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diff --git a/old/17816-h.htm b/old/17816-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f716518 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/17816-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12052 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>Letters from Egypt</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4 { + text-align: left; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + color: gray;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">Letters from Egypt, by Lucie Duff Gordon</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Letters from Egypt, by Lucie Duff Gordon, +Edited by Janet Ross + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Letters from Egypt + + +Author: Lucie Duff Gordon + +Editor: Janet Ross + +Release Date: February 21, 2006 [eBook #17816] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LETTERS FROM EGYPT*** +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>Transcribed from the 1902 R. Brimley Johnson edition by David Price, +email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk</p> +<h1>Lady Duff Gordon’s Letters from Egypt</h1> +<p>Revised Edition with Memoir by Her Daughter Janet Ross</p> +<p>New Introduction by George Meredith</p> +<p><span class="smcap"><i>second impression</i></span></p> +<p>LONDON: R. BRIMLEY JOHNSON<br /> +1902</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/ill1b.jpg"> +<img alt="Photograph of Lady Duff Gordon from sketch by G. F. Watts, R.A., about 1848" src="images/ill1s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<h2>INTRODUCTION</h2> +<p>The letters of Lady Duff Gordon are an introduction to her in person. +She wrote as she talked, and that is not always the note of private +correspondence, the pen being such an official instrument. Readers +growing familiar with her voice will soon have assurance that, addressing +the public, she would not have blotted a passage or affected a tone +for the applause of all Europe. Yet she could own to a liking +for flattery, and say of the consequent vanity, that an insensibility +to it is inhuman. Her humour was a mouthpiece of nature. +She inherited from her father the judicial mind, and her fine conscience +brought it to bear on herself as well as on the world, so that she would +ask, ‘Are we so much better?’ when someone supremely erratic +was dangled before the popular eye. She had not studied her Goethe +to no purpose. Nor did the very ridiculous creature who is commonly +the outcast of all compassion miss having the tolerant word from her, +however much she might be of necessity in the laugh, for Molière +also was of her repertory. Hers was the charity which is perceptive +and embracing: we may feel certain that she was never a dupe of the +poor souls, Christian and Muslim, whose tales of simple misery or injustice +moved her to friendly service. Egyptians, <i>consule Junio</i>, +would have met the human interpreter in her, for a picture to set beside +that of the vexed Satirist. She saw clearly into the later Nile +products, though her view of them was affectionate; but had they been +exponents of original sin, her charitableness would have found the philosophical +word on their behalf, for the reason that they were not in the place +of vantage. The service she did to them was a greater service +done to her country, by giving these quivering creatures of the baked +land proof that a Christian Englishwoman could be companionable, tender, +beneficently motherly with them, despite the reputed insurmountable +barriers of alien race and religion. Sympathy was quick in her +breast for all the diverse victims of mischance; a shade of it, that +was not indulgence, but knowledge of the roots of evil, for malefactors +and for the fool. Against the cruelty of despotic rulers and the +harshness of society she was openly at war, at a time when championship +of the lowly or the fallen was not common. Still, in this, as +in everything controversial, it was the μηδεν +αyαν with her. That singular union of the balanced +intellect with the lively heart arrested even in advocacy the floods +pressing for pathos. Her aim was at practical measures of help; +she doubted the uses of sentimentality in moving tyrants or multitudes +to do the thing needed. Moreover, she distrusted eloquence, Parliamentary, +forensic, literary; thinking that the plain facts are the persuasive +speakers in a good cause, and that rhetoric is to be suspected as the +flourish over a weak one. Does it soften the obdurate, kindle +the tardily inflammable? Only for a day, and only in cases of +extreme urgency, is an appeal to emotion of value for the gain of a +day. Thus it was that she never forced her voice, though her feelings +might be at heat and she possessed the literary art.</p> +<p>She writes from her home on the Upper Nile: ‘In this country +one gets to see how much more beautiful a perfectly natural expression +is than any degree of the mystical expression of the best painters.’ +It is by her banishing of literary colouring matter that she brings +the Arab and Copt home to us as none other has done, by her unlaboured +pleading that she touches to the heart. She was not one to ‘spread +gold-leaf over her acquaintances and make them shine,’ as Horace +Walpole says of Madame de Sévigné; they would have been +set shining from within, perhaps with a mild lustre; sensibly to the +observant, more credibly of the golden sort. Her dislike of superlatives, +when the marked effect had to be produced, and it was not the literary +performance she could relish as well as any of us, renders hard the +task of portraying a woman whose character calls them forth. To +him knowing her, they would not fit; her individuality passes between +epithets. The reading of a sentence of panegyric (commonly a thing +of extension) deadened her countenance, if it failed to quicken the +corners of her lips; the distended truth in it exhibited the comic shadow +on the wall behind. That haunting demon of human eulogy is quashed +by the manner she adopted, from instinct and training. Of her +it was known to all intimate with her that she could not speak falsely +in praise, nor unkindly in depreciation, however much the constant play +of her humour might tempt her to exalt or diminish beyond the bounds. +But when, for the dispersion of nonsense about men or things, and daintiness +held up the veil against rational eyesight, the <i>gros mot</i> was +demanded, she could utter it, as from the Bench, with a like authority +and composure.</p> +<p>In her youth she was radiantly beautiful, with dark brows on a brilliant +complexion, the head of a Roman man, and features of Grecian line, save +for the classic Greek wall of the nose off the forehead. Women, +not enthusiasts, inclined rather to criticize, and to criticize so independent +a member of their sex particularly, have said that her entry into a +ballroom took the breath. Poetical comparisons run under heavy +weights in prose; but it would seem in truth, from the reports of her, +that wherever she appeared she could be likened to a Selene breaking +through cloud; and, further, the splendid vessel was richly freighted. +Trained by a scholar, much in the society of scholarly men, having an +innate bent to exactitude, and with a ready tongue docile to the curb, +she stepped into the world armed to be a match for it. She cut +her way through the accustomed troops of adorers, like what you will +that is buoyant and swims gallantly. Her quality of the philosophical +humour carried her easily over the shoals or the deeps in the way of +a woman claiming her right to an independent judgement upon the minor +rules of conduct, as well as upon matters of the mind. An illustrious +foreigner, <i>en tête-à-tête</i> with her over some +abstract theme, drops abruptly on a knee to protest, overpowered; and +in that posture he is patted on the head, while the subject of conversation +is continued by the benevolent lady, until the form of ointment she +administers for his beseeching expression and his pain compels him to +rise and resume his allotted part with a mouth of acknowledging laughter. +Humour, as a beautiful woman’s defensive weapon, is probably the +best that can be called in aid for the bringing of suppliant men to +their senses. And so manageable are they when the idea of comedy +and the chord of chivalry are made to vibrate, that they (supposing +them of the impressionable race which is overpowered by Aphrodite’s +favourites) will be withdrawn from their great aims, and transformed +into happy crust-munching devotees—in other words, fast friends. +Lady Duff Gordon had many, and the truest, and of all lands. She +had, on the other hand, her number of detractors, whom she excused. +What woman is without them, if she offends the conventions, is a step +in advance of her day, and, in this instance, never hesitates upon the +needed occasion to dub things with their right names? She could +appreciate their disapproval of her in giving herself the airs of a +man, pronouncing verdicts on affairs in the style of a man, preferring +association with men. So it was; and, besides, she smoked. +Her physician had hinted at the soothing for an irritated throat that +might come of some whiffs of tobacco. She tried a cigar, and liked +it, and smoked from that day, in her library chair and on horseback. +Where she saw no harm in an act, opinion had no greater effect on her +than summer flies to one with a fan. The country people, sorely +tried by the spectacle at first, remembered the gentle deeds and homely +chat of an eccentric lady, and pardoned her, who was often to be seen +discoursing familiarly with the tramp on the road, incapable of denying +her house-door to the lost dog attached by some instinct to her heels. +In the circles named ‘upper’ there was mention of women +unsexing themselves. She preferred the society of men, on the +plain ground that they discuss matters of weight, and are—the +pick of them—of open speech, more liberal, more genial, better +comrades. Was it wonderful to hear them, knowing her as they did, +unite in calling her <i>cœur d’or</i>? And women could +say it of her, for the reasons known to women. Her intimate friendships +were with women as with men. The closest friend of this most manfully-minded +of women was one of her sex, little resembling her, except in downright +truthfulness, lovingness, and heroic fortitude.</p> +<p>The hospitable house at Esher gave its welcome not merely to men +and women of distinction; the humble undistinguished were made joyous +guests there, whether commonplace or counting among the hopeful. +Their hostess knew how to shelter the sensitively silent at table, if +they were unable to take encouragement and join the flow. Their +faces at least responded to her bright look on one or the other of them +when something worthy of memory sparkled flying. She had the laugh +that rocks the frame, but it was usually with a triumphant smile that +she greeted things good to the ear; and her own manner of telling was +concise, on the lines of the running subject, to carry it along, not +to produce an effect—which is like the horrid gap in air after +a blast of powder. Quotation came when it sprang to the lips and +was native. She was shrewd and cogent, invariably calm in argument, +sitting over it, not making it a duel, as the argumentative are prone +to do; and a strong point scored against her received the honours due +to a noble enemy. No pose as mistress of a salon shuffling the +guests marked her treatment of them; she was their comrade, one of the +pack. This can be the case only when a governing lady is at all +points their equal, more than a player of trump cards. In England, +in her day, while health was with her, there was one house where men +and women conversed. When that house perforce was closed, a light +had gone out in our country.</p> +<p>The fatal brilliancy of skin indicated the fell disease which ultimately +drove her into exile, to die in exile. Lucie Duff Gordon was of +the order of women of whom a man of many years may say that their like +is to be met but once or twice in a lifetime.</p> +<h2>MEMOIR</h2> +<p>Lucie Duff Gordon, born on June 24, 1821, was the only child of John +and Sarah Austin and inherited the beauty and the intellect of her parents. +The wisdom, learning, and vehement eloquence of John Austin, author +of the ‘Province of Jurisprudence Determined,’ were celebrated, +and Lord Brougham used to say: ‘If John Austin had had health, +neither Lyndhurst nor I should have been Chancellor.’ He +entered the army, and was in Sicily under Lord William Bentinck; but +soon quitted an uncongenial service, and was called to the Bar. +In 1819 he married Sarah, the youngest daughter of John Taylor of Norwich, +<a name="citation1"></a><a href="#footnote1">{1}</a> when they took +a house in Queen Square, Westminster, close to James Mill, the historian +of British India, and next door to Jeremy Bentham, whose pupil Mr. Austin +was. Here, it may be said, the Utilitarian philosophy of the nineteenth +century was born. Jeremy Bentham’s garden became the playground +of the young Mills and of Lucie Austin; his coach-house was converted +into a gymnasium, and his flower-beds were intersected by tapes and +threads to represent the passages of a panopticon prison. The +girl grew in vigour and in sense, with a strong tinge of originality +and independence and an extreme love of animals. About 1826 the +Austins went to Germany, Mr. Austin having been nominated Professor +of Civil Law in the new London University, and wishing to study Roman +Law under Niebuhr and Schlegel at Bonn. ‘Our dear child,’ +writes Mrs. Austin to Mrs. Grote, ‘is a great joy to us. +She grows wonderfully, and is the happiest thing in the world. +Her German is very pretty; she interprets for her father with great +joy and naïveté. God forbid that I should bring up +a daughter here! But at her present age I am most glad to have +her here, and to send her to a school where she learns—<i>well</i>, +writing, arithmetic, geography, and, as a matter of course, German.’ +Lucie returned to England transformed into a little German maiden, with +long braids of hair down her back, speaking German like her own language, +and well grounded in Latin. Her mother, writing to Mrs. Reeve, +her sister, says: ‘John Mill is ever my dearest child and friend, +and he really dotes on Lucie, and can do anything with her. She +is too wild, undisciplined, and independent, and though she knows a +great deal, it is in a strange, wild way. She reads everything, +composes German verses, has imagined and put together a fairy world, +dress, language, music, everything, and talks to them in the garden; +but she is sadly negligent of her own appearance, and is, as Sterling +calls her, Miss Orson. . . . Lucie now goes to a Dr. Biber, who has +five other pupils (boys) and his own little child. She seems to +take to Greek, with which her father is very anxious to have her thoroughly +imbued. As this scheme, even if we stay in England, cannot last +many years, I am quite willing to forego all the feminine parts of her +education for the present. The main thing is to secure her independence, +both with relation to her own mind and outward circumstances. +She is handsome, striking, and full of vigour and animation.’</p> +<p>From the very first Lucie Austin possessed a correct and vigorous +style, and a nice sense of language, which were hereditary rather than +implanted, and to these qualities was added a delightful strain of humour, +shedding a current of original thought all through her writings. +That her unusual gifts should have been so early developed is hardly +surprising with one of her sympathetic temperament when we remember +the throng of remarkable men and women who frequented the Austins’ +house. The Mills, the Grotes, the Bullers, the Carlyles, the Sterlings, +Sydney Smith, Luttrell, Rogers, Jeremy Bentham, and Lord Jeffrey, were +among the most intimate friends of her parents, and ‘Toodie,’ +as they called her, was a universal favourite with them. Once, +staying at a friend’s house, and hearing their little girl rebuked +for asking questions, she said: ‘<i>My</i> mamma never says “I +don’t know” or “Don’t ask questions.”’</p> +<p>In 1834 Mr. Austin’s health, always delicate, broke down, and +with his wife and daughter he went to Boulogne. Mrs. Austin made +many friends among the fishermen and their wives, but ‘la belle +Anglaise,’ as they called her, became quite a heroine on the occasion +of the wreck of the <i>Amphitrite</i>, a ship carrying female convicts +to Botany Bay. She stood the whole night on the beach in the howling +storm, saved the lives of three sailors who were washed up by the breakers, +and dashed into the sea and pulled one woman to shore. Lucie was +with her mother, and showed the same cool courage that distinguished +her in after life. It was during their stay at Boulogne that she +first met Heinrich Heine; he sat next her at the <i>table d’hôte</i>, +and, soon finding out that she spoke German perfectly, told her when +she returned to England she could tell her friends she had met Heinrich +Heine. He was much amused when she said: ‘And who is Heinrich +Heine?’ The poet and the child used to lounge on the pier +together; she sang him old English ballads, and he told her stories +in which fish, mermaids, water-sprites, and a very funny old French +fiddler with a poodle, who was diligently taking three sea-baths a day, +were mixed up in a fanciful manner, sometimes humorous, often very pathetic, +especially when the water-sprites brought him greetings from the North +Sea. He afterwards told her that one of his most charming poems,</p> +<blockquote><p>‘Wenn ich am deinem Hause<br /> +Des Morgens vorüber geh’,<br /> +So freut’s mich, du liebe Kleine,<br /> +Wenn ich dich am Fenster seh’,’ etc.,</p> +</blockquote> +<p>was meant for her whose magnificent eyes he never forgot.</p> +<p>Two years later Mr. Austin was appointed Royal Commissioner to inquire +into the grievances of the Maltese. His wife accompanied him, +but so hot a climate was not considered good for a young girl, and Lucie +was sent to a school at Bromley. She must have been as great a +novelty to the school as the school-life was to her, for with a great +deal of desultory knowledge she was singularly deficient in many rudiments +of ordinary knowledge. She wrote well already at fifteen, and +corresponded often with Mrs. Grote and other friends of her parents. +<a name="citation4"></a><a href="#footnote4">{4}</a> At sixteen +she determined to be baptized and confirmed as a member of the Church +of England (her parents and relations were Unitarians). Lord Monteagle +was her sponsor and it was chiefly owing, I believe, to the influence +of himself and his family, with whom she was very intimate in spite +of her Radical ideas, that she took this step.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/ill4b.jpg"> +<img alt="Lucie Austin, aged fifteen, from a sketch by a school friend" src="images/ill4s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>When the Austins returned from Malta in 1838, Lucie began to appear +in the world; all the old friends flocked round them, and many new friends +were made, among them Sir Alexander Duff Gordon whom she first met at +Lansdowne House. Left much alone, as her mother was always hard +at work translating, writing for various periodicals and nursing her +husband, the two young people were thrown much together, and often walked +out alone. One day Sir Alexander said to her: ‘Miss Austin, +do you know people say we are going to be married?’ Annoyed +at being talked of, and hurt at his brusque way of mentioning it, she +was just going to give a sharp answer, when he added: ‘Shall we +make it true?’ With characteristic straightforwardness she +replied by the monosyllable, ‘Yes,’ and so they were engaged. +Before her marriage she translated Niebuhr’s ‘Greek Legends,’ +which were published under her mother’s name.</p> +<p>On the 16th May, 1840, Lucie Austin and Sir Alexander Duff Gordon +were married in Kensington Old Church, and the few eye-witnesses left +still speak with enthusiasm of the beauty of bridegroom and bride. +They took a house in Queen Square, Westminster, (No 8, with a statue +of Queen Anne at one corner), and the talent, beauty, and originality, +joined with a complete absence of affectation of Lady Duff Gordon, soon +attracted a remarkable circle of friends. Lord Lansdowne, Lord +Monteagle, Mrs. Norton, Thackeray, Dickens, Elliot Warburton, Tennyson, +Tom Taylor, Kinglake, Henry Taylor, and many more, were habitués, +and every foreigner of distinction sought an introduction to the Duff +Gordons. I remember as a little child seeing Leopold Ranke walking +up and down the drawing-room, and talking vehemently in an <i>olla-podrida</i> +of English, French, German, Italian, and Spanish, with now and then +a Latin quotation in between; I thought he was a madman. When +M. Guizot escaped from France on the outbreak of the Revolution, his +first welcome and dinner was in Queen Square.</p> +<p>The first child was born in 1842, and soon afterwards Lady Duff Gordon +began her translation of ‘The Amber Witch’; the ‘French +in Algiers’ by Lamping, and Feuerbach’s ‘Remarkable +Criminal Trials,’ followed in quick succession; and together my +father and mother translated Ranke’s ‘Memoirs of the House +of Brandenburg’ and ‘Sketches of German Life.’ +A remarkable novel by Léon de Wailly, ‘Stella and Vanessa,’ +had remained absolutely unnoticed in France until my mother’s +English version appeared, when it suddenly had a great success which +he always declared he owed entirely to Lady Duff Gordon.</p> +<p>In a letter written to Mrs. Austin from Lord Lansdowne’s beautiful +villa at Richmond, which he lent to the Duff Gordons after a severe +illness of my father’s, my mother mentions Hassan el Bakkeet (a +black boy): ‘He is an inch taller for our grandeur; <i>peu s’en +faut</i>, he thinks me a great lady and himself a great butler.’ +Hassan was a personage in the establishment. One night, on returning +from a theatrical party at Dickens’, my mother found the little +boy crouching on the doorstep. His master had turned him out of +doors because he was threatened with blindness, and having come now +and then with messages to Queen Square, he found his way, as he explained, +‘to die on the threshold of the beautiful pale lady.’ +His eyes were cured, and he became my mother’s devoted slave and +my playmate, to the horror of Mr. Hilliard, the American author. +I perfectly recollect how angry I was when he asked how Lady Duff Gordon +could let a negro touch her child, whereupon she called us to her, and +kissed me first and Hassan afterwards. Some years ago I asked +our dear friend Kinglake about my mother and Hassan, and received the +following letter: ‘Can I, my dear Janet, how can I trust myself +to speak of your dear mother’s beauty in the phase it had reached +when first I saw her? The classic form of her features, the noble +poise of her head and neck, her stately height, her uncoloured yet pure +complexion, caused some of the beholders at first to call her beauty +statuesque, and others to call it majestic, some pronouncing it to be +even imperious; but she was so intellectual, so keen, so autocratic, +sometimes even so impassioned in speech, that nobody feeling her powers +could go on feebly comparing her to a statue or a mere Queen or Empress. +All this touches only the beauteous surface; the stories (which were +told me by your dear mother herself) are incidentally illustrative of +her kindness to fellow-creatures in trouble or suffering. Hassan, +it is supposed, was a Nubian, and originally, as his name implies, a +Mahometan, he came into the possession of English missionaries (who +had probably delivered him from slavery), and it resulted that he not +only spoke English well and without foreign accent, but was always ready +with phrases in use amongst pious Christians, and liked, when he could, +to apply them as means of giving honour and glory to his beloved master +and mistress; so that if, for example, it happened that, when they were +not at home, a visitor called on a Sunday, he was sure to be told by +Hassan that Sir Alexander and Lady Duff Gordon were at church, or even—for +his diction was equal to this—that they were “attending +Divine service.” Your mother had valour enough to practise +true Christian kindness under conditions from which the bulk of “good +people” might too often shrink; when on hearing that a “Mary” +once known to the household had brought herself into trouble by omitting +the precaution of marriage, my lady determined to secure the girl a +good refuge by taking her as a servant. Before taking this step, +however, she assembled the household, declared her resolve to the servants, +and ordered that, on pain of instant dismissal, no one of them should +ever dare say a single unkind word to Mary. Poor Hassan, small, +black as jet, but possessed with an idea of the dignity of his sex, +conceived it his duty to become the spokesman of the household, and +accordingly, advancing a little in front of the neat-aproned, tall, +wholesome maid-servants, he promised in his and their name a full and +careful obedience to the mistress’s order, but then, wringing +his hands and raising them over his head, he added these words: “What +a lesson to us all, my lady.”’ On the birth of a little +son Hassan triumphantly announced to all callers: ‘We have got +a boy.’ Another of his delightful speeches was made one +evening when Prince Louis Napoleon (the late Emperor of the French) +dropt in unexpectedly to dinner. ‘Please, my lady,’ +said he, on announcing that dinner was ready, ‘I ran out and bought +two pen’orth of sprats for the honour of the house.’</p> +<p>Though I was only six I distinctly remember the Chartist riots in +1848. William Bridges Adams, the engineer, an old friend of my +great-uncle, Philip Taylor, had a workshop at Bow, and my mother helped +to start a library for the men, and sometimes attended meetings and +discussed politics with them. They adored her, and when people +talked of possible danger she would smile and say: ‘My men will +look after me.’ On the evening of April 9 a large party +of stalwart men in fustian jackets arrived at our house and had supper; +Tom Taylor made speeches and proposed toasts which were cheered to the +echo, and at last my mother made a speech too, and wound up by calling +the men her ‘Gordon volunteers.’ The ‘Hip, hip, +hurrah!’ with which it was greeted startled the neighbours, who +for a moment thought the Chartists had invaded the quiet precincts of +the square.</p> +<p>To Mrs. Austin, who was then in Paris, her daughter wrote, on April +10:</p> +<blockquote><p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>‘I had only time to write once yesterday, as all hands were +full of bustle in entertaining our guests. I never wish to see +forty better gentlemen than we had here last night. As all was +quiet, we had supper—cold beef, bread and beer—with songs, +sentiments and toasts, such as “Success to the roof we are under,” +“Liberty, brotherhood and order.” Then they bivouacked +in the different houses till five this morning, when they started home. +Among the party was a stray policeman, who looked rather wonder-struck. +Tom Taylor was capital, made short speeches, told stories, and kept +all in high good-humour; and Alick came home from patrolling as a special +constable, and was received with great glee and affection. All +agreed that the fright, to us at least, was well made up by the kindly +and pleasant evening. As no one would take a penny, we shall send +books to the library, or a contribution to the school, all our neighbours +being quite anxious to pay, though not willing to fraternise. +I shall send cravats as a badge to the “Gordon volunteers.”</p> +<p>‘I enclose a letter from Eothen [Kinglake] about Paris, which +will interest you. My friends of yesterday unanimously decided +that Louis Blanc would “just suit the ‘lazy set.’”</p> +<p>‘We had one row, which, however, ceased on the appearance of +our stalwart troop; indeed, I think one Birmingham smith, a handsome +fellow six feet high, whose vehement disinterestedness would neither +allow to eat, drink, or sleep in the house, would have scattered them.’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Austin established themselves at Weybridge in a low, +rambling cottage, and we spent some summers with them. The house +was cold and damp, and our dear Hassan died in 1850 from congestion +of the lungs. I always attributed my mother’s bad health +to the incessant colds she caught there. I can see before me now +her beautiful pale face bending over poor Hassan as she applied leeches +to his chest, which a new maid refused to do, saying, with a toss of +her head, ‘Lor! my lady, I couldn’t touch either of ’em!’ +The flash of scorn with which she regarded the girl softened into deep +affection and pity when she looked down on her faithful Nubian servant.</p> +<p>In 1851 my father took a house at Esher, which was known as ‘The +Gordon Arms,’ and much frequented by our friends. In a letter, +written about that time to C. J. Bayley, then secretary to the Governor +of the Mauritius, Lady Duff Gordon gives the first note of alarm as +to her health: ‘I fear you would think me very much altered since +my illness; I look thin, ill, and old, and my hair is growing gray. +This I consider hard upon a woman just over her thirtieth birthday. +I continue to like Esher very much; I don’t think we could have +placed ourselves better. Kinglake has given Alick a great handsome +chestnut mare, so he is well mounted, and we ride merrily. I expressed +such exultation at the idea of your return that my friends, all but +Alick, refused to sympathize. Philips, Millais, and Dicky Doyle +talked of jealousy, and Tom Taylor muttered something about a “hated +rival.” Meanwhile, all send friendly greetings to you.’</p> +<p>One summer Macaulay was often at Esher, his brother-in-law having +taken a house near ours. He shared my mother’s admiration +for Miss Austen’s novels, and they used to talk of her personages +as though they were living friends. If, perchance, my grandfather +Austin was there, the talk grew indeed fast and furious, as all three +were vehement, eloquent, and enthusiastic talkers.</p> +<p>When my mother went to Paris in the summer of 1857 she saw Heine +again. As she entered the room he exclaimed ‘Oh! Lucie +has still the great brown eyes!’ He remembered every little +incident and all the people who had been in the inn at Boulogne. +‘I, for my part, could hardly speak to him,’ my mother wrote +to Lord Houghton, who asked her to give him some recollections of the +poet for his ‘Monographs,’ ‘so shocked was I by his +appearance. He lay on a pile of mattresses, his body wasted so +that it seemed no bigger than a child’s under the sheet that covered +him, the eyes closed and the face altogether like the most painful and +wasted <i>Ecce Homo</i> ever painted by some old German painter. +His voice was very weak, and I was astonished at the animation with +which he talked; evidently his mind had wholly survived his body.’ +He wished to give my mother the copyright of all his works, made out +lists how to arrange them, and gave her <i>carte-blanche</i> to cut +out what she pleased, and was especially eager that she should do a +prose translation of his songs against her opinion of its practicability. +To please him she translated ‘Almanzor’ and several short +poems into verse—the best translations I know.</p> +<p>After trying Ventnor for two winters, my mother went out to the Cape +of Good Hope in a sailing vessel, but on her return was unfortunately +persuaded to go to Eaux Bonnes in the autumn of 1862, which did her +great harm. Thence she went to Egypt, where the dry hot climate +seemed to arrest the malady for a short time. The following memoir +written by Mrs. Norton in the <i>Times</i> gives a better picture of +her than could any words of mine, the two talented and beautiful women +were intimate friends, and few mourned more deeply for Lucie Duff Gordon +than Caroline Norton:</p> +<p>‘“In Memoriam.” The brief phrase whose solemnity +prefaced millions of common place epitaphs before Tennyson taught grief +to speak, lamenting his dead friend in every phase and variety of regret. +With such gradation and difference of sorrow will the recent death of +a very remarkable woman, Lucie, Lady Duff Gordon, be mourned for by +all who knew her, and with such a sense of blank loss will they long +continue to lament one whose public success as an author was only commensurate +with the charm of her private companionship. Inheriting from both +parents the intellectual faculties which she so nobly exercised, her +work has been ended in the very noontide of life by premature failure +of health; and the long exile she endured for the sake of a better climate +has failed to arrest, though it delayed, the doom foretold by her physicians. +To that exile we owe the most popular, perhaps, of her contributions +to the literature of her country, “Letters from the Cape,” +and “Letters from Egypt,” the latter more especially interesting +from the vivid, life-like descriptions of the people among whom she +dwelt, her aspirations for their better destiny, and the complete amalgamation +of her own pursuits and interests with theirs. She was a settler, +not a traveller among them. Unlike Lady Hester Stanhope, whose +fantastic and half-insane notions of rulership and superiority have +been so often recorded for our amazement, Lady Duff Gordon kept the +simple frankness of heart and desire to be of service to her fellow-creatures +without a thought of self or a taint of vanity in her intercourse with +them. Not for lack of flattery or of real enthusiastic gratitude +on their part. It is known that when at Thebes, on more than one +of her journeys, the women raised the “cry of joy” as she +passed along, and the people flung branches and raiment on her path, +as in the old Biblical descriptions of Eastern life. The source +of her popularity was in the liberal kindliness of spirit with which +she acted on all occasions, more especially towards those she considered +the victims of bad government and oppressive laws. She says of +herself: “one’s pity becomes a perfect passion when one +sits among the people as I do, and sees all they endure. Least +of all can I forgive those among Europeans and Christians who can help +to break these bruised reeds.” And again: “Would that +I could excite the interest of my country in their suffering! +Some conception of the value of public opinion in England has penetrated +even here.” Sympathizing, helping, doctoring their sick, +teaching their children, learning the language, Lady Duff Gordon lived +in Egypt, and in Egypt she has died, leaving a memory of her greatness +and goodness such as no other European woman ever acquired in that country. +It is touching to trace her lingering hopes of life and amended health +in her letters to her husband and her mother, and to see how, as they +faded out, there rose over those hopes the grander light of fortitude +and submission to the will of God.</p> +<p>‘Gradually—how gradually the limits of this notice forbid +us to follow—hope departs, and she begins bravely to face the +inevitable destiny. And then comes the end of all, the strong +yet tender announcement of her own conviction that there would be no +more meetings, but a grave opened to receive her in a foreign land.</p> +<blockquote><p>‘“Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>‘“Do not think of coming here, as you dread the climate. +Indeed, it would be almost too painful to me to part from you again; +and as it is, I can wait patiently for the end, among people who are +kind and loving enough to be comfortable without too much feeling of +the pain of parting. The leaving Luxor was rather a distressing +scene, as they did not think to see me again. The kindness of +all the people was really touching, from the Cadi, who made ready my +tomb among his own family, to the poorest fellaheen.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>‘Such are the tranquil and kindly words with which she prefaces +her death. Those who remember her in her youth and beauty, before +disease rather than time had altered the pale heroic face, and bowed +the slight, stately figure, may well perceive some strange analogy between +soul and body in the Spartan firmness which enabled her to pen that +last farewell so quietly.</p> +<p>‘But to the last her thought was for others, and for the services +she could render. In this very letter, written, as it were, on +the verge of the tomb, she speaks with gratitude and gladness of the +advancement of her favourite attendant, Omar. This Omar had been +recommended to her by the janissary of the American Consul-General, +and so far back as 1862, when in Alexandria, she mentions having engaged +him, and his hopeful prophecy of the good her Nile life is to do her. +“My cough is bad; but Omar says I shall lose it and ‘eat +plenty’ as soon as I see a crocodile.”</p> +<p>‘Omar “could not leave her,” and he had his reward. +One of the last events in the life of this gifted and liberal-minded +Englishwoman was the visit to her dahabeeyeh, or Nile boat, of the Prince +and Princess of Wales. Then poor Omar’s simple and faithful +service to his dying mistress was rewarded in a way he could scarcely +have dreamt; and Lady Duff Gordon thus relates the incident: “Omar +sends you his heartfelt thanks, and begs the boat may remain registered +at the Consulate in your name, as a protection, for his use and benefit. +The Prince has appointed him his dragoman, but he is sad enough, poor +fellow! all his prosperity does not console him for the loss of “the +mother he found in the world.” Mahomed at Luxor wept bitterly, +and said: “Poor I—poor my children—poor all the people!” +and kissed my hand passionately; and the people at Esneh asked leave +to touch me “for a blessing,” and everyone sent delicate +bread and their best butter and vegetables and lambs. They are +kinder than ever now that I can no longer be of any use to them. +If I live till September I will go up to Esneh, where the air is softest +and I cough less; I would rather die among my own people on the Saeed +than here. Can you thank the Prince for Omar, or shall I write? +He was most pleasant and kind, and the Princess too; she is the most +perfectly simple-mannered girl I ever saw; she does not even try to +be civil like other great people, but asks blunt questions and looks +at one so heartily with her clear, honest eyes, that she must win all +hearts. They were more considerate than any people I have seen, +and the Prince, instead of being gracious, was, if I may say so, quite +respectful in manner: he is very well bred and pleasant, and has, too, +the honest eyes that make one sure he has a kind heart. My sailors +were so proud at having the honour of rowing him in <i>our own boat</i> +and of singing to him. I had a very good singer in the boat.”</p> +<p>‘Long will her presence be remembered and wept for among the +half-civilized friends of her exile, the poor, the sick, the needy and +the oppressed. She makes the gentle, half-playful boast in one +of her letters from the Nile that she is “very popular,” +and has made many cures as a Hakeem, or doctor, and that a Circassian +had sat up with a dying Englishman because she had nursed his wife.</p> +<p>‘The picture of the Circassian sitting up with the dying Englishman +because an English lady had nursed his wife is infinitely touching, +and had its parallel in the speech of an old Scottish landlady known +to the writer of this notice, whose son had died in the West Indies +among strangers. “And they were so good to him,” said +she, “that I vowed if ever I had a lodger sick I would do my best +for that stranger in remembrance.” In remembrance! +Who shall say what seeds of kindly intercommunion that dying Englishwoman +of whom and of whose works we have been speaking may have planted in +the arid Eastern soil? Or what “bread she may have cast” +on those Nile waters, “which shall be found again after many days”? +“Out of evil cometh good,” and certainly out of her sickness +and suffering good came to all within her influence.</p> +<p>‘Lady Duff Gordon’s printed works were many. She +was an excellent German scholar, and had the advantage in her translations +from that difficult language of her labours being shared by her husband. +Ranke, Niebuhr, Feuerbach, Moltke, and others, owe their introduction +to our English-reading public to the industry and talent of her pen. +She was also a classic scholar of no mean pretensions. Perhaps +no woman of our own time, except Mrs. Somerville and Mrs. Browning in +their very different styles, combined so much erudition with so much +natural ability. She was the daughter of Mr. Austin, the well-known +professor of jurisprudence, and his gifted wife, Sarah Austin, whose +name is familiar to thousands of readers, and whose social brilliancy +is yet remembered with extreme admiration and regret by the generation +immediately preceding our own.</p> +<p>‘That Lucie, Lady Duff Gordon, inherited the best of the intellect +and qualities of both these parents will, we think, hardly be disputed, +and she had besides, of her own, a certain generosity of spirit, a widespread +sympathy for humanity in general, without narrowness or sectarianism, +which might well prove her faith modelled on the sentence which appeals +too often in vain from the last page of the printed Bible to resenting +and dissenting religionists, “Multæ terricolis linguæ, +cœlestibus una.”’</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>The last two years of my mother’s life were one long struggle +against deadly disease. The last winter was cheered by the presence +of my brother, but at her express desire he came home in early summer +to continue his studies, and my father and I were going out to see her, +when the news came of her death at Cairo on July 14, 1869. Her +desire had been to be among her ‘own people’ at Thebes, +but when she felt she would never see Luxor again, she gave orders to +be buried as quietly as possible in the cemetery at Cairo. The +memory of her talent, simplicity, stately beauty, and extraordinary +eloquence, and her almost passionate pity for any oppressed creature, +will not easily fade. She bore great pain, and what was almost +a greater trial, absence from her husband, her little daughter Urania, +and her many friends, uncomplainingly, gleaning what consolation she +could by helping her poor Arab neighbours, who adored her, and have +not, I am told, forgotten the ‘Great Lady’ who was so good +to them.</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>The first volume of Lady Duff Gordon’s ‘Letters from +Egypt’ was published by Messrs. Macmillan and Co. in May, 1865, +with a preface by her mother, Mrs. Austin, who edited them, and was +obliged to omit much that might have given offence and made my mother’s +life uncomfortable—to say the least—in Egypt. Before +the end of the year the book went through three editions.</p> +<p>In 1875 a volume containing the ‘Last Letters from Egypt,’ +to which were added ‘Letters from the Cape,’ reprinted from +‘Vacation Tourists’ (1864), with a Memoir of my mother by +myself, was published by Messrs. Macmillan and Co. A second edition +appeared in 1876.</p> +<p>I have now copied my mother’s letters as they were written, +omitting only the purely family matter which is of no interest to the +public. Edward Lear’s drawing of Luxor was printed in ‘Three +Generations of Englishwomen,’ edited by Mrs. Ross, but the other +illustrations are now reproduced for the first time.</p> +<p>The names of villages alluded to in the ‘Letters’ have +been spelt as in the Atlas published by the Egyptian Exploration Fund.</p> +<p>JANET ROSS.</p> +<h2>LETTERS FROM EGYPT</h2> +<h3>November 11, 1862: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Grand Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>Tuesday</i>, <i>November</i> 11, 1862.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I write to you out of the real Arabian Nights. Well may the +Prophet (whose name be exalted) smile when he looks on Cairo. +It is a golden existence, all sunshine and poetry, and, <i>I</i> must +add, kindness and civility. I came up last Thursday by railway +with the American Consul-General, a charming person, and had to stay +at this horrid Shepheard’s Hotel. But I do little but sleep +here. Hekekian Bey, a learned old Armenian, takes care of me every +day, and the Amerian Vice-Consul is my sacrifice. I went on Sunday +to his child’s christening, and heard Sakna, the ‘Restorer +of Hearts.’ She is wonderfully like Rachel, and her singing +is <i>hinreisend</i> from expression and passion. Mr. Wilkinson +(the Consul) is a Levantine, and his wife Armenian, so they had a grand +fantasia; people feasted all over the house and in the street. +Arab music <i>schmetterte</i>, women yelled the <i>zaghareet</i>, black +servants served sweetmeats, pipes, and coffee, and behaved as if they +belonged to the company, and I was strongly under the impression that +I was at Nurreddin’s wedding with the Vizier’s daughter. +Yesterday I went to Heliopolis with Hekekian Bey and his wife, and visited +an Armenian country lady close by.</p> +<p>My servant Omar turns out a jewel. He has <i>déterré</i> +an excellent boat for the Nile voyage, and I am to be mistress of a +captain, a mate, eight men and a cabin boy for £25 a month. +I went to Boulak, the port of Cairo, and saw various boats, and admired +the way in which the English travellers pay for their insolence and +caprices. Similar boats cost people with dragomans £50 to +£65. But, then, ‘I shall lick the fellows,’ +etc., is what I hear all round. The dragoman, I conclude, pockets +the difference. The owner of the boat, Sid Achmet el-Berberi, +asked £30, whereupon I touched my breast, mouth and eyes, and +stated through Omar that I was not, like other Ingeleez, made of money, +but would give £20. He then showed another boat at £20, +very much worse, and I departed (with fresh civilities) and looked at +others, and saw two more for £20; but neither was clean, and neither +had a little boat for landing. Meanwhile Sid Achmet came after +me and explained that, if I was not like other Ingeleez in money, I +likewise differed in politeness, and had refrained from abuse, etc., +etc., and I should have the boat for £25. It was so very +excellent in all fittings, and so much larger, that I thought it would +make a great difference in health, so I said if he would go before the +American Vice-Consul (who is looked on as a sharp hand) and would promise +all he said to me before him, it should be well.</p> +<p>Mr. Thayer, the American Consul-General, gives me letters to every +consular agent depending on him; and two Coptic merchants whom I met +at the fantasia have already begged me to ‘honour their houses.’ +I rather think the poor agents, who are all Armenians and Copts, will +think I am the republic in person. The weather has been all this +time like a splendid English August, and I hope I shall get rid of my +cough in time, but it has been very bad. There is no cold at night +here as at the Cape, but it is nothing like so clear and bright.</p> +<p>Omar took Sally sightseeing all day while I was away, into several +mosques; in one he begged her to wait a minute while he said a prayer. +They compare notes about their respective countries and are great friends; +but he is put out at my not having provided her with a husband long +ago, as is one’s duty towards a ‘female servant,’ +which almost always here means a slave.</p> +<p>Of all the falsehoods I have heard about the East, that about women +being old hags at thirty is the biggest. Among the poor fellah +women it may be true enough, but not nearly as much as in Germany; and +I have now seen a considerable number of Levantine ladies looking very +handsome, or at least comely, till fifty. Sakna, the Arab Grisi, +is fifty-five—an ugly face, I am told (she was veiled and one +only saw the eyes and glimpses of her mouth when she drank water), but +the figure of a leopard, all grace and beauty, and a splendid voice +of its kind, harsh but thrilling like Malibran’s. I guessed +her about thirty, or perhaps thirty-five. When she improvised, +the finesse and grace of her whole <i>Wesen</i> were ravishing. +I was on the point of shouting out ‘Wallah!’ as heartily +as the natives. The eight younger Halmeh (<i>i.e</i>., learned +women, which the English call Almeh and think is an improper word) were +ugly and screeched. Sakna was treated with great consideration +and quite as a friend by the Armenian ladies with whom she talked between +her songs. She is a Muslimeh and very rich and charitable; she +gets £50 for a night’s singing at least.</p> +<p>It would be very easy to learn colloquial Arabic, as they all speak +with such perfect distinctness that one can follow the sentences and +catch the words one knows as they are repeated. I think I know +forty or fifty words already, besides my ‘salaam aleikum’ +and ‘backsheesh.’</p> +<p>The reverse of the brilliant side of the medal is sad enough: deserted +palaces, and crowded hovels scarce good enough for pigstyes. ‘One +day man see his dinner, and one other day none at all,’ as Omar +observes; and the children are shocking from bad food, dirt and overwork, +but the little pot-bellied, blear-eyed wretches grow up into noble young +men and women under all their difficulties. The faces are all +sad and rather what the Scotch call ‘dour,’ not <i>méchant</i> +at all, but harsh, like their voices. All the melody is in walk +and gesture; they are as graceful as cats, and the women have exactly +the ‘breasts like pomegranates’ of their poetry. A +tall Bedaween woman came up to us in the field yesterday to shake hands +and look at us. She wore a white sackcloth shift and veil, <i>und +weiter nichts</i>, and asked Mrs. Hekekian a good many questions about +me, looked at my face and hands, but took no notice of my rather smart +gown which the village women admired so much, shook hands again with +the air of a princess, wished me health and happiness, and strode off +across the graveyard like a stately ghost. She was on a journey +all alone, and somehow it looked very solemn and affecting to see her +walking away towards the desert in the setting sun like Hagar. +All is so Scriptural in the country here. Sally called out in +the railroad, ‘There is Boaz, sitting in the cornfield’; +and so it was, and there he has sat for how many thousand years,—and +Sakna sang just like Miriam in one war-song.</p> +<p><i>Wednesday</i>.—My contract was drawn up and signed by the +American Vice-Consul to-day, and my Reis kissed my hand in due form, +after which I went to the bazaar to buy the needful pots and pans. +The transaction lasted an hour. The copper is so much per oka, +the workmanship so much; every article is weighed by a sworn weigher +and a ticket sent with it. More Arabian Nights. The shopkeeper +compares notes with me about numerals, and is as much amused as I. +He treats me to coffee and a pipe from a neighbouring shop while Omar +eloquently depreciates the goods and offers half the value. A +water-seller offers a brass cup of water; I drink, and give the huge +sum of twopence, and he distributes the contents of his skin to the +crowd (there always is a crowd) in my honour. It seems I have +done a pious action. Finally a boy is called to carry the <i>batterie +de cuisine</i>, while Omar brandishes a gigantic kettle which he has +picked up a little bruised for four shillings. The boy has a donkey +which I mount astride <i>à l’Arabe</i>, while the boy carries +all the copper things on his head. We are rather a grand procession, +and quite enjoy the fury of the dragomans and other leeches who hang +on the English at such independent proceedings, and Omar gets reviled +for spoiling the trade by being cook, dragoman, and all in one.</p> +<p>I went this morning with Hekekian Bey to the two earliest mosques. +The Touloun is exquisite—noble, simple, and what ornament there +is is the most delicate lacework and embossing in stone and wood. +This Arab architecture is even more lovely than our Gothic. The +Touloun is now a vast poorhouse, a nest of paupers. I went into +three of their lodgings. Several Turkish families were in a large +square room neatly divided into little partitions with old mats hung +on ropes. In each were as many bits of carpet, mat and patchwork +as the poor owner could collect, and a small chest and a little brick +cooking-place in one corner of the room with three earthern pipkins +for I don’t know how many people;—that was all—they +possess no sort of furniture, but all was scrupulously clean and no +bad smell whatever. A little boy seized my hand and showed where +he slept, ate and cooked with the most expressive pantomime. As +there were women, Hekekian could not come in, but when I came out an +old man told us they received three loaves (cakes as big as a sailor’s +biscuit), four piastres a month—<i>i.e</i>., eightpence per adult—a +suit of clothes a year, and on festive occasions lentil soup. +Such is the almshouse here. A little crowd belonging to the house +had collected, and I gave sixpence to an old man, who transferred it +to the first old man to be <i>divided</i> among them all, ten or twelve +people at least, mostly blind or lame. The poverty wrings my heart. +We took leave with salaams and politeness like the best society, and +then turned into an Arab hut stuck against the lovely arches. +I stooped low under the door, and several women crowded in. This +was still poorer, for there were no mats or rags of carpet, a still +worse cooking-place, a sort of dog-kennel piled up of loose stones to +sleep in, which contained a small chest and the print of human forms +on the stone floor. It was, however, quite free from dust, and +perfectly sweet. I gave the young woman who had led me in sixpence, +and here the difference between Turk and Arab appeared. The division +of this created a perfect storm of noise, and we left the five or six +Arab women out-shrieking a whole rookery. I ought to say that +no one begged at all.</p> +<p><i>Friday</i>.—I went to-day on a donkey to a mosque in the +bazaar, of what we call Arabesque style, like the Alhambra, very handsome. +The Kibleh was very beautiful, and as I was admiring it Omar pulled +a lemon out of his breast and smeared it on the porphyry pillar on one +side of the arch, and then entreated me to lick it. It cures all +diseases. The old man who showed the mosque pulled eagerly at +my arm to make me perform this absurd ceremony, and I thought I should +have been forced to do it. The base of the pillar was clogged +with lemon-juice. I then went to the tombs of the Khalìfah; +one of the great ones had such arches and such wondrous cupolas but +all in ruins. There are scores of these noble buildings, any one +of which is a treasure, falling to decay. The next, strange to +say, was in perfect repair. I got off the donkey, and Omar fidgeted +and hesitated a little and consulted with a woman who had the key. +As there were no overshoes I pulled my boots off, and was rewarded by +seeing the footprints of Mohammed on two black stones, and a lovely +little mosque, a sort of <i>Sainte Chapelle</i>. Omar prayed with +ardent fervour and went out backwards, saluting the Prophet aloud. +To my surprise the woman was highly pleased with sixpence, and did not +ask for more. When I remarked this, Omar said that no Frank had +ever been inside to his knowledge. A mosque-keeper of the sterner +sex would not have let me in. I returned home through endless +streets and squares of Moslem tombs, those of the Memlooks among them. +It was very striking; and it was getting so dark that I thought of Nurreddin +Bey, and wondered if a Jinn would take me anywhere if I took up my night’s +lodging in one of the comfortable little cupola-covered buildings.</p> +<p>My Coptic friend has just called in to say that his brother expects +me at Kenneh. I find nothing but civility and a desire to please. +My boat is the <i>Zint el Bachreyn</i>, and I carry the English flag +and a small American distinguishing pennant as a signal to my consular +agents. We sail next Wednesday. Good-bye for the present, +dearest Mutter.</p> +<h3>November 21, 1862: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Boat off Embabeh</span>,<br /> +<i>November</i> 21, 1862.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>We embarked yesterday, and after the fashion of Eastern caravans +are abiding to-day at a village opposite Cairo; it is Friday, and therefore +would be improper and unlucky to set out on our journey. The scenes +on the river are wonderfully diverting and curious, so much life and +movement. But the boatmen are sophisticated; my crew have all +sported new white drawers in honour of the Sitti Ingleezee’s supposed +modesty—of course compensation will be expected. Poor fellows! +they are very well mannered and quiet in their rags and misery, and +their queer little humming song is rather pretty, ‘Eyah Mohammad, +eyah Mohammad,’ <i>ad infinitum</i>, except when an energetic +man cries ‘Yallah!’—<i>i.e</i>., ‘O God!’—which +means ‘go it’ in everyday life. Omar is gone to fetch +one or two more ‘unconsidered trifles,’ and I have been +explaining the defects to be remedied in the cabin door, broken window, +etc., to my Reis with the help of six words of Arabic and dumb show, +which they understand and answer with wonderful quickness.</p> +<p>The air on the river is certainly quite celestial—totally unlike +the damp, chilly feeling of the hotel and Frank quarter of Cairo. +The Isbekeeyeh, or public garden, where all the Franks live, was a lake, +I believe, and is still very damp.</p> +<p>I shall go up to the second Cataract as fast as possible, and return +back at leisure. Hekekian Bey came to take leave yesterday, and +lent me several books; pray tell Senior what a kindness his introduction +was. It would have been rather dismal in Cairo—if one could +be dismal there—without a soul to speak to. I was sorry +to know no Turks or Arabs, and have no opportunity of seeing any but +the tradesman of whom I bought my stores but that was very amusing. +The young man of whom I bought my <i>finjaans</i> was so handsome, elegant +and melancholy that I know he was the lover of the Sultan’s favourite +slave. How I wish you were here to enjoy all this, so new, so +beautiful, and yet so familiar, life—and you would like the people, +poor things! they are complete children, but amiable children.</p> +<p>I went into the village here, where I was a curiosity, and some women +took me into their houses and showed me their sleeping-place, cookery, +poultry, etc.; and a man followed me to keep off the children, but no +backsheesh was asked for, which showed that Europeans were rare there. +The utter destitution is terrible to see, though in this climate of +course it matters less, but the much-talked-of dirt is simply utter +poverty. The poor souls are as clean as Nile mud and water will +make their bodies, and they have not a second shirt, or any bed but +dried mud.</p> +<p>Give my love to my darlings, and don’t be uneasy if you don’t +get letters. My cough has been better now for five days without +a bad return of it, so I hope it is really better; it is the first reprieve +for so long. The sun is so hot, a regular broil, November 21, +and all doors and windows open in the cabin—a delicious breeze.</p> +<h3>November 30, 1862: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Feshn</span>,<br /> +<i>Monday</i>, <i>November</i> 30, 1862.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I have now been enjoying this most delightful way of life for ten +days, and am certainly much better. I begin to eat and sleep again, +and cough less. My crew are a great amusement to me. They +are mostly men from near the first Cataract above Assouan, sleek-skinned, +gentle, patient, merry black fellows. The little black Reis is +the very picture of good-nature and full of fun, ‘chaffing’ +the girls as we pass the villages, and always smiling. The steersman +is of lighter complexion, also very cheery, but decidedly pious. +He prays five times a day and utters ejaculations to the apostle Rusool +continually. He hurt his ankle on one leg and his instep on the +other with a rusty nail, and they festered. I dressed them with +poultices, and then with lint and strapping, with perfect success, to +the great admiration of all hands, and he announced how much better +he felt, ‘Alhamdulillah, kieth-el-hairack khateer ya Sitti’ +(Praise be to God and thanks without end O Lady), and everyone echoed, +‘kieth-el-hairack khateer.’ The most important person +is the ‘weled’—boy—Achmet. The most merry, +clever, omnipresent little rascal, with an ugly little pug face, a shape +like an antique Cupid, liberally displayed, and a skin of dark brown +velvet. His voice, shrill and clear, is always heard foremost; +he cooks for the crew, he jumps overboard with the rope and gives advice +on all occasions, grinds the coffee with the end of a stick in a mortar, +which he holds between his feet, and uses the same large stick to walk +proudly before me, brandishing it if I go ashore for a minute, and ordering +everybody out of the way. ‘Ya Achmet!’ resounds all +day whenever anybody wants anything, and the ‘weled’ is +always ready and able. My favourite is Osman, a tall, long-limbed +black who seems to have stepped out of a hieroglyphical drawing, shirt, +skull-cap and all. He has only those two garments, and how anyone +contrives to look so inconceivably ‘neat and respectable’ +(as Sally truly remarked) in that costume is a mystery. He is +always at work, always cheerful, but rather silent—in short, the +able seaman and steady, respectable ‘hand’ <i>par excellence</i>. +Then we have El Zankalonee from near Cairo, an old fellow of white complexion +and a valuable person, an inexhaustible teller of stories at night and +always <i>en train</i>, full of jokes and remarkable for a dry humour +much relished by the crew. I wish I understood the stories, which +sound delightful, all about Sultans and Efreets, with effective ‘points,’ +at which all hands exclaim ‘Mashallah!’ or ‘Ah!’ +(as long as you can drawl it). The jokes, perhaps, I may as well +be ignorant of. There is a certain Shereef who does nothing but +laugh and work and be obliging; helps Omar with one hand and Sally with +the other, and looks like a great innocent black child. The rest +of the dozen are of various colours, sizes and ages, some quite old, +but all very quiet and well-behaved.</p> +<p>We have had either dead calm or contrary wind all the time and the +men have worked very hard at the tow-rope. On Friday I proclaimed +a halt in the afternoon at a village at prayer-time for the pious Muslims +to go to the mosque; this gave great satisfaction, though only five +went, Reis, steersman, Zankalonee and two old men. The up-river +men never pray at all, and Osman occupied himself by buying salt out +of another boat and stowing it away to take up to his family, as it +is terribly dear high up the river. At Benisouef we halted to +buy meat and bread, it is <i>comme qui dirait</i> an assize town, there +is one butcher who kills one sheep a day. I walked about the streets +escorted by Omar in front and two sailors with huge staves behind, and +created a sensation accordingly. It is a dull little country town +with a wretched palace of Said Pasha. On Sunday we halted at Bibbeh, +where I caught sight of a large Coptic church and sallied forth to see +whether they would let me in. The road lay past the house of the +headman of the village, and there ‘in the gate’ sat a patriarch, +surrounded by his servants and his cattle. Over the gateway were +crosses and queer constellations of dots, more like Mithraic symbols +than anything Christian, but Girgis was a Copt, though the chosen head +of the Muslim village. He rose as I came up, stepped out and salaamed, +then took my hand and said I must go into his house before I saw the +church and enter the hareem. His old mother, who looked a hundred, +and his pretty wife, were very friendly; but, as I had to leave Omar +at the door, our talk soon came to an end, and Girgis took me out into +the divan, without the sacred precincts of the hareem. Of course +we had pipes and coffee, and he pressed me to stay some days, to eat +with him every day and to accept all his house contained. I took +the milk he offered, and asked him to visit me in the boat, saying I +must return before sunset when it gets cold, as I was ill. The +house was a curious specimen of a wealthy man’s house—I +could not describe it if I tried, but I felt I was acting a passage +of the Old Testament. We went to the church, which outside looked +like nine beehives in a box. Inside, the nine domes resting on +square pillars were very handsome. Girgis was putting it into +thorough repair at his own expense, and it will cost a good deal, I +think, to repair and renew the fine old wood panelling of such minute +and intricate workmanship. The church is divided by three screens; +one in front of the eastern three domes is impervious and conceals the +holy of holies. He opened the horseshoe door for me to look in, +but explained that no Hareem might cross the threshold. All was +in confusion owing to the repairs which were actively going on without +the slightest regard to Sunday; but he took up a large bundle, kissed +it, and showed it me. What it contained I cannot guess, and I +scrupled to inquire through a Muslim interpreter. To the right +of this sanctum is the tomb of a Muslim saint! enclosed under the adjoining +dome. Here we went in and Girgis kissed the tomb on one side while +Omar salaamed it on the other—a pleasant sight. They were +much more particular about our shoes than in the mosques. Omar +wanted to tie handkerchiefs over my boots like at Cairo, but the priest +objected and made me take them off and march about in the brick and +mortar rubbish in my stockings. I wished to hear the service, +but it was not till sunset, and, as far as I could make out, not different +on Sunday to other days. The Hareems are behind the screen furthest +removed from the holy screen, behind a third screen where also was the +font, locked up and shaped like a Muslim tomb in little. (Hareem +is used here just like the German <i>Frauenzimmer</i>, to mean a respectable +woman. Girgis spoke of me to Omar as ‘Hareem.’) +The Copts have but one wife, but they shut her up much closer than the +Arabs. The children were sweetly pretty, so unlike the Arab brats, +and the men very good-looking. They did not seem to acknowledge +me at all as a <i>co-religionnaire</i>, and asked whether we of the +English religion did not marry our brothers and sisters.</p> +<p>The priest then asked me to drink coffee at his house close by, and +there I ‘sat in the gate’—<i>i.e</i>., in a large +sort of den raised 2 feet from the ground and matted, to the left of +the gate. A crowd of Copts collected and squatted about, and we +were joined by the mason who was repairing the church, a fine, burly, +rough-bearded old Mussulman, who told how the Sheykh buried in the church +of Bibbeh had appeared to him three nights running at Cairo and ordered +him to leave his work and go to Bibbeh and mend his church, and how +he came and offered to do so without pay if the Copts would find the +materials. He spoke with evident pride, as one who had received +a Divine command, and the Copts all confirmed the story and everyone +was highly gratified by the miracle. I asked Omar if he thought +it was all true, and he had no doubt of it. The mason he knew +to be a respectable man in full work, and Girgis added that he had tried +to get a man to come for years for the purpose without success. +It is not often that a dead saint contrives to be equally agreeable +to Christians and Mussulmans, and here was the staunch old ‘true +believer’ working away in the sanctuary which they would not allow +an English fellow-Christian to enter.</p> +<p>Whilst we sat hearing all these wonders, the sheep and cattle pushed +in between us, coming home at eve. The venerable old priest looked +so like Father Abraham, and the whole scene was <i>so</i> pastoral and +Biblical that I felt quite as if my wish was fulfilled to live a little +a few thousands of years ago. They wanted me to stay many days, +and then Girgis said I must stop at Feshn where he had a fine house +and garden, and he would go on horseback and meet me there, and would +give me a whole troop of Fellaheen to pull the boat up quick. +Omar’s eyes twinkled with fun as he translated this, and said +he knew the Sitt would cry out, as she always did about the Fellaheen, +as if she were hurt herself. He told Girgis that the English customs +did not allow people to work without pay, which evidently seemed very +absurd to the whole party.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Gebel Sheyk Embarak</span>,<br /> +<i>Thursday</i>.</p> +<p>I stopped last night at Feshn, but finding this morning that my Coptic +friends were not expected till the afternoon, I would not spend the +whole day, and came on still against wind and stream. If I could +speak Arabic I should have enjoyed a few days with Girgis and his family +immensely, to learn their <i>Ansichten</i> a little; but Omar’s +English is too imperfect to get beyond elementary subjects. The +thing that strikes me most is the tolerant spirit that I see everywhere. +They say ‘Ah! it is your custom,’ and express no sort of +condemnation, and Muslims and Christians appear perfectly good friends, +as my story of Bibbeh goes to prove. I have yet to see the much-talked-of +fanaticism, at present I have not met with a symptom of it. There +were thirteen Copt families at Bibbeh and a considerable Muslim population, +who had elected Girgis their headman and kissed his hand very heartily +as our procession moved through the streets. Omar said he was +a very good man and much liked.</p> +<p>The villages look like slight elevations in the mud banks cut into +square shapes. The best houses have neither paint, whitewash, +plaster, bricks nor windows, nor any visible roofs. They don’t +give one the notion of human dwellings at all at first, but soon the +eye gets used to the absence of all that constitutes a house in Europe, +the impression of wretchedness wears off, and one sees how picturesque +they are, with palm-trees and tall pigeon-houses, and here and there +the dome over a saint’s tomb. The men at work on the river-banks +are exactly the same colour as the Nile mud, with just the warmer hue +of the blood circulating beneath the skin. Prometheus has just +formed them out of the universal material at hand, and the sun breathed +life into them. Poor fellows—even the boatmen, ragged crew +as they are—say ‘Ah, Fellaheen!’ with a contemptuous +pity when they see me watch the villagers at work.</p> +<p>The other day four huge barges passed us towed by a steamer and crammed +with hundreds of the poor souls torn from their homes to work at the +Isthmus of Suez, or some palace of the Pasha’s, for a nominal +piastre a day, and find their own bread and water and cloak. One +of my crew, Andrasool, a black savage whose function is always to jump +overboard whenever the rope gets entangled or anything is wanted, recognised +some relations of his from a village close to Assouan. There was +much shouting and poor Andrasool looked very mournful all day. +It may be his turn next. Some of the crew disloyally remarked +that they were sure the men there wished they were working for a Sitti +Ingleez, as Andrasool told them he was. Think too what splendid +pay it must be that the boat-owner can give out of £25 a month +to twelve men, after taking his own profits, the interest of money being +enormous.</p> +<p>When I call my crew black, don’t think of negroes. They +are elegantly-shaped Arabs and all gentlemen in manners, and the black +is transparent, with amber <i>reflets</i> under it in the sunshine; +a negro looks <i>blue</i> beside them. I have learned a great +deal that is curious from Omar’s confidences, who tells me his +family affairs and talks about the women of his family, which he would +not to a man. He refused to speak to his brother, a very grand +dragoman, who was with the Prince of Wales, and who came up to us in +the hotel at Cairo and addressed Omar, who turned his back on him. +I asked the reason, and Omar told me how his brother had a wife, ‘An +old wife, been with him long time, very good wife.’ She +had had three children—all dead. All at once the dragoman, +who is much older than Omar, declared he would divorce her and marry +a young woman. Omar said, ‘No, don’t do that; keep +her in your house as head of your home, and take one of your two black +slave girls as your Hareem.’ But the other insisted, and +married a young Turkish wife; whereupon Omar took his poor old sister-in-law +to live with him and his own young wife, and cut his grand brother dead. +See how characteristic!—the urging his brother to take the young +slave girl ‘as his Hareem,’ like a respectable man—that +would have been all right; but what he did was ‘not good.’ +I’ll trouble you (as Mrs. Grote used to say) to settle these questions +to everyone’s satisfaction. I own Omar seemed to me to take +a view against which I had nothing to say. His account of his +other brother, a confectioner’s household with two wives, was +very curious. He and they, with his wife and sister-in-law, all +live together, and one of the brother’s wives has six children—three +sleep with their own mother and three with their <i>other</i> mother—and +all is quite harmonious.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Siout</span>,<br /> +<i>December</i> 10.</p> +<p>I could not send a letter from Minieh, where we stopped, and I visited +a sugar manufactory and a gentlemanly Turk, who superintended the district, +the Moudir. I heard a boy singing a <i>Zikr</i> (the ninety-nine +attributes of God) to a set of dervishes in a mosque, and I think I +never heard anything more beautiful and affecting. Ordinary Arab +singing is harsh and nasal, but it can be wonderfully moving. +Since we left Minieh we have suffered dreadfully from the cold; the +chickens died of it, and the Arabs look blue and pinched. Of course +it is <i>my weather</i> and there never was such cold and such incessant +contrary winds known. To-day was better, and Wassef, a Copt here, +lent me his superb donkey to go up to the tomb in the mountain. +The tomb is a mere cavern, so defaced, but the view of beautiful Siout +standing in the midst of a loop of the Nile was ravishing. A green +deeper and brighter than England, graceful minarets in crowds, a picturesque +bridge, gardens, palm-trees, then the river beyond it, the barren yellow +cliffs as a frame all around that. At our feet a woman was being +carried to the grave, and the boys’ voices rang out the Koran +full and clear as the long procession—first white turbans and +then black veils and robes—wound along. It is all a dream +to me. You can’t think what an odd effect it is to take +up an English book and read it and then look up and hear the men cry, +‘Yah Mohammad.’ ‘Bless thee, Bottom, how art +thou translated;’ it is the reverse of all one’s former +life when one sat in England and read of the East. ‘<i>Und +nun sitz ich mitten drein</i>’ in the real, true Arabian Nights, +and don’t know whether ‘I be I as I suppose I be’ +or not.</p> +<p>Tell Alick the news, for I have not written to any but you. +I do so long for my Rainie. The little Copt girls are like her, +only pale; but they don’t let you admire them for fear of the +evil-eye.</p> +<h3>December 20, 1862: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Thebes</span>,<br /> +<i>December</i> 20, 1862.</p> +<p>Dear Alick,</p> +<p>I have had a long, dawdling voyage up here, but enjoyed it much, +and have seen and heard many curious things. I only stop here +for letters and shall go on at once to Wady Halfeh, as the weather is +very cold still, and I shall be better able to enjoy the ruins when +I return about a month hence, and shall certainly prefer the tropics +now. I can’t describe the kindness of the Copts. The +men I met at a party in Cairo wrote to all their friends and relations +to be civil to me. Wassef’s attentions consisted first in +lending me his superb donkey and accompanying me about all day. +Next morning arrived a procession headed by his clerk, a gentlemanly +young Copt, and consisting of five black memlooks carrying a live sheep, +a huge basket of the most delicious bread, a pile of cricket-balls of +creamy butter, a large copper caldron of milk and a cage of poultry. +I was confounded, and tried to give a good baksheesh to the clerk, but +he utterly declined. At Girgeh one Mishrehgi was waiting for me, +and was in despair because he had only time to get a few hundred eggs, +two turkeys, a heap of butter and a can of milk. At Keneh one +Issa (Jesus) also lent a donkey, and sent me three boxes of delicious +Mecca dates, which Omar thought stingy. Such attentions are agreeable +here where good food is not to be had except as a gift. They all +made me promise to see them again on my return and dine at their houses, +and Wassef wanted to make a fantasia and have dancing girls. How +you would love the Arab women in the country villages. I wandered +off the other day alone, while the men were mending the rudder, and +fell in with a troop of them carrying water-jars—such sweet, graceful +beings, all smiles and grace. One beautiful woman pointed to the +village and made signs of eating and took my hand to lead me. +I went with her, admiring them as they walked. Omar came running +after and wondered I was not afraid. I laughed, and said they +were much too pretty and kindly-looking to frighten anyone, which amused +them immensely when he told them so. They all wanted me to go +and eat in their houses, and I had a great mind to it, but the wind +was fair and the boat waiting, so I bid my beautiful friends farewell. +They asked if we wanted anything—milk or eggs—for they would +give it with pleasure, it was not their custom to sell things, they +said, I offered a bit of money to a little naked child, but his mother +would not let him take it. I shall never forget the sweet, engaging +creatures at that little village, or the dignified politeness of an +old weaver whose loom I walked in to look at, and who also wished to +‘set a piece of bread before me.’ It is the true poetical +pastoral life of the Bible in the villages where the English have not +been, and happily they don’t land at the little places. +Thebes has become an English watering-place. There are now nine +boats lying here, and the great object is to <i>do the Nile</i> as fast +as possible. It is a race up to Wady Halfeh or Assouan. +I have gained so much during this month that I hope the remaining three +will do real good, as the weather will improve with the new year they +tell me. All the English stay here and ‘make Christmas,’ +as Omar calls it, but I shall go on and do my devotions with the Copts +at Esneh or Edfou. I found that their seeming disinclination to +let one attend their service arose from an idea that we English would +not recognise them as Christians. I wrote a curious story of a +miracle to my mother, I find that I was wrong about the saint being +a Mussulman (and so is Murray); he is no less than Mar Girghis, our +own St. George himself. Why he selected a Mussulman mason I suppose +he best knows.</p> +<p>In a week I shall be in Nubia. Some year we must all make this +voyage; you would revel in it. Kiss my darlings for me.</p> +<h3>February 11, 1863: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Thebes</span>,<br /> +<i>February</i> 11, 1863.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>On arriving here last night I found one letter from you, dated December +10, and have received nothing else. Pray write again forthwith +to Cairo where I hope to stay some weeks. A clever old dragoman +I met at Philæ offers to lend me furniture for a lodging or a +tent for the desert, and when I hesitated he said he was very well off +and it was not his business to sell things, but only to be paid for +his services by rich people, and that if I did not accept it as he meant +it he should be quite hurt. This is what I have met with from +everything Arab—nothing but kindness and politeness. I shall +say farewell to Egypt with real feeling; among other things, it will +be quite a pang to part with Omar who has been my shadow all this time +and for whom I have quite an affection, he is so thoroughly good and +amiable.</p> +<p>I am really much better I hope and believe, though only within the +last week or two. We have had the coldest winter ever known in +Nubia, such bitter north-east winds, but when the wind by great favour +did not blow, the weather was heavenly. If the millennium really +does come I shall take a good bit of mine on the Nile. At Assouan +I had been strolling about in that most poetically melancholy spot, +the granite quarry of old Egypt and burial-place of Muslim martyrs, +and as I came homewards along the bank a party of slave merchants, who +had just loaded their goods for Senaar from the boat on the camels, +asked me to dinner, and, oh! how delicious it felt to sit on a mat among +the camels and strange bales of goods and eat the hot tough bread, sour +milk and dates, offered with such stately courtesy. We got quite +intimate over our leather cup of sherbet (brown sugar and water), and +the handsome jet-black men, with features as beautiful as those of the +young Bacchus, described the distant lands in a way which would have +charmed Herodotus. They proposed to me to join them, ‘they +had food enough,’ and Omar and I were equally inclined to go. +It is of no use to talk of the ruins; everybody has said, I suppose, +all that can be said, but Philæ surpassed my expectations. +No wonder the Arab legends of Ans el Wogood are so romantic, and Abou +Simbel and many more. The scribbling of names is quite infamous, +beautiful paintings are defaced by Tomkins and Hobson, but worst of +all Prince Pückler Muskau has engraved his and his <i>Ordenskreuz</i> +in huge letters on the naked breast of that august and pathetic giant +who sits at Abou Simbel. I wish someone would kick him for his +profanity.</p> +<p>I have eaten many odd things with odd people in queer places, dined +in a respectable Nubian family (the castor-oil was trying), been to +a Nubian wedding—such a dance I saw. Made friends with a +man much looked up to in his place (Kalabshee—notorious for cutting +throats), inasmuch as he had killed several intrusive tax-gatherers +and recruiting officers. He was very gentlemanly and kind and +carried me up a place so steep I could not have reached it. Just +below the cataract—by-the-by going up is nothing but noise and +shouting, but coming down is fine fun—<i>Fantasia khateer</i> +as my excellent little Nubian pilot said. My sailors all prayed +away manfully and were horribly frightened. I confess my pulse +quickened, but I don’t think it was fear. Well, below the +cataract I stopped for a religious fête, and went to a holy tomb +with the darweesh, so extraordinarily handsome and graceful—the +true <i>feingemacht</i> noble Bedaween type. He took care of me +through the crowd, who never had seen a Frank woman before and crowded +fearfully, and pushed the true believers unmercifully to make way for +me. He was particularly pleased at my not being afraid of Arabs; +I laughed, and asked if he was afraid of us. ‘Oh no! he +would like to come to England; when there he would work to eat and drink, +and then sit and sleep in the church.’ I was positively +ashamed to tell my religious friend that with us the ‘house of +God’ is not the house of the poor stranger. I asked him +to eat with me but he was holding a preliminary Ramadan (it begins next +week), and could not; but he brought his handsome sister, who was richly +dressed, and begged me to visit him and eat of his bread, cheese and +milk. Such is the treatment one finds if one leaves the highroad +and the backsheesh-hunting parasites. There are plenty of ‘gentlemen’ +barefooted and clad in a shirt and cloak ready to pay attentions which +you may return with a civil look and greeting, and if you offer a cup +of coffee and a seat on the floor you give great pleasure, still more +if you eat the dourah and dates, or bread and sour milk with an appetite.</p> +<p>At Koom Ombo we met a Rifaee darweesh with his basket of tame snakes. +After a little talk he proposed to initiate me, and so we sat down and +held hands like people marrying. Omar sat behind me and repeated +the words as my ‘Wakeel,’ then the Rifaee twisted a cobra +round our joined hands and requested me to spit on it, he did the same +and I was pronounced safe and enveloped in snakes. My sailors +groaned and Omar shuddered as the snakes put out their tongues—the +darweesh and I smiled at each other like Roman augurs. I need +not say the creatures were toothless.</p> +<p>It is worth going to Nubia to see the girls. Up to twelve or +thirteen they are neatly dressed in a bead necklace and a leather fringe +4 inches wide round the loins, and anything so absolutely perfect as +their shapes or so sweetly innocent as their look can’t be conceived. +My pilot’s little girl came in the dress mentioned before carrying +a present of cooked fish on her head and some fresh eggs; she was four +years old and so <i>klug</i>. I gave her a captain’s biscuit +and some figs, and the little pet sat with her little legs tucked under +her, and ate it so <i>manierlich</i> and was so long over it, and wrapped +up some more white biscuit to take home in a little rag of a veil so +carefully. I longed to steal her, she was such a darling. +Two beautiful young Nubian women visited me in my boat, with hair in +little plaits finished off with lumps of yellow clay burnished like +golden tags, soft, deep bronze skins, and lips and eyes fit for Isis +and Hathor. Their very dress and ornaments were the same as those +represented in the tombs, and I felt inclined to ask them how many thousand +years old they were. In their house I sat on an ancient Egyptian +couch with the semicircular head-rest, and drank out of crockery which +looked antique, and they brought a present of dates in a basket such +as you may see in the British Museum. They are dressed in drapery +like Greek statues, and are as perfect, but have hard, bold faces, and, +though far handsomer, lack the charm of the Arab women; and the men, +except at Kalabshee and those from far up the country, are not such +gentlemen as the Arabs.</p> +<p>Everyone is cursing the French here. Forty thousand men always +at work at the Suez Canal at starvation-point, does not endear them +to the Arabs. There is great excitement as to what the new Pasha +will do. If he ceases to give forced labour, the Canal, I suppose, +must be given up. Well, I must leave off and send my letter to +Mustapha Aga to forward. I shall stay here ten days or so, and +then return slowly to Cairo on March 10, the last day of Ramadan. +I will stay a short time at Cairo, and then take a small boat and drop +down to Alexandria and see Janet. How I did wish for my darling +Rainie to play with Achmet in the boat and see the pretty Nubian boys +and girls. I have seen and heard so much, that like M. de Conti +<i>je voudrais être levé pour l’aller dire</i>. +I long to bore you with traveller’s tales. Pray write soon.</p> +<p>Omar wanted to hear all that ‘the gentleman’ said about +‘weled and bint’ (boy and girl), and was quite delighted +to hear of Maurice’s good report at school, he thinks that the +‘Abou el welàd’ (father of the children—you, +to wit) will send a sheep to the ‘fikee’ who teaches him. +I have learned a new code of propriety altogether—<i>célà +a du bon et du mauvais</i>, like ours. When I said ‘my husband’ +Omar blushed and gently corrected me; when my donkey fell in the streets +he cried with vexation, and on my mentioning the fall to Hekekian Bey +he was quite indignant. ‘Why you say it, ma’am? that +shame’—a <i>faux pas</i> in fact. On the other hand +they mention all that belongs to the production of children with perfect +satisfaction and pleasure. A very pleasing, modest and handsome +Nubian young woman, wishing to give me the best present she could think +of, brought me a mat of her own making, and which had been her marriage-bed. +It was a gift both friendly and honourable, and I treasure it accordingly. +Omar gave me a description of his own marriage, appealing to my sympathy +about the distress of absence from his wife. I intimated that +English people were not accustomed to some words and might be shocked, +on which he said, ‘Of course I not speak of my Hareem to English +gentleman, but to good Lady can speak it.’</p> +<p>Good-bye, dear Alick, no, that is improper: I must say ‘O my +Lord’ or ‘Abou Maurice.’</p> +<h3>March 7, 1863: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">A few miles below Girgeh</span>,<br /> +<i>March</i> 7, 1863.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I was so glad to find from your letter (which Janet sent me to Thebes +by a steamer) that mine from Siout had reached you safely. First +and foremost I am wonderfully better. In Cairo the winter has +been terribly cold and damp, as the Coptic priest told me yesterday +at Girgeh. So I don’t repent the expense of the boat for +<i>j’en ai pour mon argent</i>—I am <i>all</i> the money +better and really think of getting well. Now that I know the ways +of this country a little, which Herodotus truly says is like no other, +I see that I might have gone and lived at Thebes or at Keneh or Assouan +on next to nothing, but then how could I know it? The English +have raised a mirage of false wants and extravagance which the servants +of the country of course, some from interest and others from mere ignorance, +do their best to keep up. As soon as I had succeeded in really +persuading Omar that I was not as rich as a Pasha and had no wish to +be thought so, he immediately turned over a new leaf as to what must +be had and said ‘Oh, if I could have thought an English lady would +have eaten and lived and done the least like Arab people, I might have +hired a house at Keneh for you, and we might have gone up in a clean +passenger boat, but I thought no English could bear it.’ +At Cairo, where we shall be, Inshallaha, on the 19th, Omar will get +a lodging and borrow a few mattresses and a table and chair and, as +he says, ‘keep the money in our pockets instead of giving it to +the hotel.’ I hope Alick got my letter from Thebes, and +that he told you that I had dined with ‘the blameless Ethiopians.’ +I have seen all the temples in Nubia and down as far as I have come, +and nine of the tombs at Thebes. Some are wonderfully beautiful—Abou +Simbel, Kalabshee, Room Ombo—a little temple at El Kab, lovely—three +tombs at Thebes and most of all Abydos; Edfou and Dendera are the most +perfect, Edfou quite perfect, but far less beautiful. But the +most lovely object my eyes ever saw is the island of Philæ. +It gives one quite the supernatural feeling of Claude’s best landscapes, +only not the least like them—<i>ganz anders</i>. The Arabs +say that Ans el Wogood, the most beautiful of men, built it for his +most beautiful beloved, and there they lived in perfect beauty and happiness +all alone. If the weather had not been so cold while I was there +I should have lived in the temple, in a chamber sculptured with the +mystery of Osiris’ burial and resurrection. Omar cleaned +it out and meant to move my things there for a few days, but it was +too cold to sleep in a room without a door. The winds have been +extraordinarily cold this year, and are so still. We have had +very little of the fine warm weather, and really been pinched with cold +most of the time. On the shore away from the river would be much +better for invalids.</p> +<p>Mustapha Aga, the consular agent at Thebes, has offered me a house +of his, up among the tombs in the finest air, if ever I want it. +He was very kind and hospitable indeed to all the English there. +I went into his hareem, and liked his wife’s manners very much. +It was charming to see that she henpecked her handsome old husband completely. +They had fine children and his boy, about thirteen or so, rode and played +Jereed one day when Abdallah Pasha had ordered the people of the neighbourhood +to do it for General Parker. I never saw so beautiful a performance. +The old General and I were quite excited, and he tried it to the great +amusement of the Sheykh el Beled. Some young Englishmen were rather +grand about it, but declined mounting the horses and trying a throw. +The Sheykh and young Hassan and then old Mustapha wheeled round and +round like beautiful hawks, and caught the palm-sticks thrown at them +as they dashed round. It was superb, and the horses were good, +though the saddles and bridles were rags and ends of rope, and the men +mere tatterdemalions. A little below Thebes I stopped, and walked +inland to Koos to see a noble old mosque falling to ruin. No English +had ever been there and we were surrounded by a crowd in the bazaar. +Instantly five or six tall fellows with long sticks improvised themselves +our body-guard and kept the people off, who <i>du reste</i> were perfectly +civil and only curious to see such strange ‘Hareem,’ and +after seeing us well out of the town evaporated as quietly as they came +without a word. I gave about ten-pence to buy oil, as it is Ramadan +and the mosque ought to be lighted, and the old servant of the mosque +kindly promised me full justice at the Day of Judgment, as I was one +of those Nasranee of whom the Lord Mohammed said that they are not proud +and wish well to the Muslimeen. The Pasha had confiscated all +the lands belonging to the mosque, and allowed 300 piastres—not +£2 a month—for all expenses; of course the noble old building +with its beautiful carving and arabesque mouldings must fall down. +There was a smaller one beside it, where he declared that anciently +forty girls lived unmarried and recited the Koran—Muslim nuns, +in fact. I intend to ask the Alim, for whom I have a letter from +Mustapha, about such an anomaly.</p> +<p>Some way above Bellianeh Omar asked eagerly leave to stop the boat +as a great Sheyk had called to us, and we should inevitably have some +disaster if we disobeyed. So we stopped and Omar said, ‘come +and see the Sheyk, ma’am.’ I walked off and presently +found about thirty people, including all my own men, sitting on the +ground round St. Simon Stylites—without the column. A hideous +old man like Polyphemus, utterly naked, with the skin of a rhinoceros +all cracked with the weather, sat there, and had sat day and night, +summer and winter, motionless for twenty years. He never prays, +he never washes, he does not keep Ramadan, and yet he is a saint. +Of course I expected a good hearty curse from such a man, but he was +delighted with my visit, asked me to sit down, ordered his servant to +bring me sugar-cane, asked my name and tried to repeat it over and over +again, and was quite talkative and full of jokes and compliments, and +took no notice of anyone else. Omar and my crew smiled and nodded, +and all congratulated me heartily. Such a distinction proves my +own excellence (as the Sheyk knows all people’s thoughts), and +is sure to be followed by good fortune. Finally Omar proposed +to say the Fathah in which all joined except the Sheykh, who looked +rather bored by the interruption, and desired us not to go so soon, +unless I were in a hurry. A party of Bedaween came up on camels +with presents for the holy man, but he took no notice of them, and went +on questioning Omar about me, and answering my questions. What +struck me was the total absence of any sanctimonious air about the old +fellow, he was quite worldly and jocose; I suppose he knew that his +position was secure, and thought his dirt and nakedness proved his holiness +enough. Omar then recited the Fathah again, and we rose and gave +the servants a few foddahs—the saint takes no notice of this part +of the proceeding—but he asked me to send him twice my hand full +of rice for his dinner, an honour so great that there was a murmur of +congratulation through the whole assembly. I asked Omar how a +man could be a saint who neglected all the duties of a Muslim, and I +found that he fully believed that Sheykh Seleem could be in two places +at once, that while he sits there on the shore he is also at Mecca, +performing every sacred function and dressed all in green. ‘Many +people have seen him there, ma’am, quite true.’</p> +<p>From Bellianeh we rode on pack-donkeys without bridles to Abydos, +six miles through the most beautiful crops ever seen. The absence +of weeds and blight is wonderful, and the green of Egypt, where it is +green, would make English green look black. Beautiful cattle, +sheep and camels were eating the delicious clover, while their owners +camped there in reed huts during the time the crops are growing. +Such a lovely scene, all sweetness and plenty. We ate our bread +and dates in Osiris’ temple, and a woman offered us buffalo milk +on our way home, which we drank warm out of the huge earthen pan it +had been milked in. At Girgeh I found my former friend Mishregi +absent, but his servants told some of his friends of my arrival, and +about seven or eight big black turbans soon gathered in the boat. +A darling little Coptic boy came with his father and wanted a ‘<i>kitaab</i>’ +(book) to write in, so I made one with paper and the cover of my old +pocket-book, and gave him a pencil. I also bethought me of showing +him ‘pickys’ in a book, which was so glorious a novelty +that he wanted to go with me to my town, ‘Beled Ingleez,’ +where more such books were to be found.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Siout</span>,<br /> +<i>March</i> 9.</p> +<p>I found here letters from Alick, telling me of dear Lord Lansdowne’s +death. Of course I know that his time was come, but the thought +that I shall never see his face again, that all that kindness and affection +is gone out of my life, is a great blow. No friend could leave +such a blank to me as that old and faithful one, though the death of +younger ones might be more tragic; but so many things seem gone with +him into the grave. Many indeed will mourn that kind, wise, steadfast +man—<i>Antiqua fides</i>. No one nowadays will be so noble +with such unconsciousness and simplicity. I have bought two Coptic +turbans to make a black dress out of. I thought I should like +to wear it for him—here, where ‘compliment’ is out +of the question.</p> +<p>I also found a letter from Janet, who has been very ill; the account +was so bad that I have telegraphed to hear how she is, and shall go +at once to Alexandria if she is not better. If she is I shall +hold to my plan and see Beni Hassan and the Pyramids on my way to Cairo. +I found my kind friend the Copt Wassef kinder than ever. He went +off to telegraph to Alexandria for me, and showed so much feeling and +real kindness that I was quite touched.</p> +<p>I was grieved to hear that you had been ill again, dearest Mutter. +The best is that I feel so much better that I think I may come home +again without fear; I still have an irritable cough, but it has begun +to have lucid intervals, and is far less frequent. I can walk +four or five miles and my appetite is good. All this in spite +of really cold weather in a boat where nothing shuts within two fingers’ +breadths. I long to be again with my own people.</p> +<p>Please send this to Alick, to whom I will write again from Cairo.</p> +<h3>March 10, 1863: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<i>March</i> 10, 1863.</p> +<blockquote><p>‘If in the street I led thee, dearest,<br /> +Though the veil hid thy face divine,<br /> +They who beheld thy graceful motion<br /> +Would stagger as though drunk with wine.</p> +<p>Nay, e’en the holy Sheykh, while praying<br /> +For guidance in the narrow way,<br /> +Must needs leave off, and on the traces<br /> +Of thine enchanting footsteps stray.</p> +<p>O ye who go down in the boats to Dumyat,<br /> +Cross, I beseech ye, the stream to Budallah;<br /> +Seek my beloved, and beg that she will not<br /> +Forget me, I pray and implore her by Allah.</p> +<p>‘Fair as two moons is the face of my sweetheart,<br /> +And as to her neck and her bosom—Mashallah.<br /> +And unless to my love I am soon reunited<br /> +Death is my portion—I swear it by Allah.’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Thus sings Ali Asleemee, the most <i>debraillé</i> of my crew, +a <i>hashshásh</i>, <a name="citation48"></a><a href="#footnote48">{48}</a> +but a singer and a good fellow. The translation is not free, though +the sentiments are. I merely rhymed Omar’s literal word-for-word +interpretation. The songs are all in a similar strain, except +one funny one abusing the ‘Sheykh el-Beled, may the fleas bite +him.’ Horrid imprecation! as I know to my cost, for after +visiting the Coptic monks at Girgeh I came home to the boat with myriads. +Sally said she felt like Rameses the Great, so tremendous was the slaughter +of the active enemy.</p> +<p>I had written the first page just as I got to Siout and was stopped +by bad news of Janet; but now all is right again, and I am to meet her +in Cairo, and she proposes a jaunt to Suez and to Damietta. I +have got a superb illumination to-night, improvised by Omar in honour +of the Prince of Wales’s marriage, and consequently am writing +with flaring candles, my lantern being on duty at the masthead, and +the men are singing an epithalamium and beating the tarabookeh as loud +as they can.</p> +<p>You will have seen my letter to my mother, and heard how much better +I am for the glorious air of Nubia and the high up-country. Already +we are returning into misty weather. I dined and spent the day +with Wassef and his Hareem, such an amiable, kindly household. +I was charmed with their manner to each other, to the slaves and family. +The slaves (all Muslims) told Omar what an excellent master they had. +He had meant to make a dance-fantasia, but as I had not good news it +was countermanded. Poor Wassef ate his boiled beans rather ruefully, +while his wife and I had an excellent dinner, she being excused fasting +on account of a coming baby. The Copt fast is no joke, neither +butter, milk, eggs nor fish being allowed for fifty-five days. +They made Sally dine with us, and Omar was admitted to wait and interpret. +Wassef’s younger brother waited on him as in the Bible, and his +clerk, a nice young fellow, assisted. Black slaves brought the +dishes in, and capital the food was. There was plenty of joking +between the lady and Omar about Ramadan, which he had broken, and the +Nasranee fast, and also about the number of wives allowed, the young +clerk intimating that he rather liked that point in Islam. I have +promised to spend ten or twelve days at their house if ever I go up +the Nile again. I have also promised to send Wassef all particulars +as to the expense, etc. of educating his boy in England, and to look +after him and have him to our house in the holidays. I can’t +describe how anxiously kind these people were to me. One gets +such a wonderful amount of sympathy and real hearty kindness here. +A curious instance of the affinity of the British mind for prejudice +is the way in which every Englishman I have seen scorns the Eastern +Christians, and droll enough that sinners like Kinglake and I should +be the only people to feel the tie of the ‘common faith’ +(<i>vide</i> ‘Eothen’). A very pious Scotch gentleman +wondered that I could think of entering a Copt’s house, adding +that they were the publicans (tax-gatherers) of this country, which +is partly true. I felt inclined to mention that better company +than he or I had dined with publicans, and even sinners.</p> +<p>The Copts are evidently the ancient Egyptians. The slightly +aquiline nose and long eye are the very same as the profiles of the +tombs and temples, and also like the very earliest Byzantine pictures; +<i>du reste</i>, the face is handsome, but generally sallow and rather +inclined to puffiness, and the figure wants the grace of the Arabs. +Nor has any Copt the thoroughbred, <i>distingué</i> look of the +meanest man or woman of good Arab blood. Their feet are the long-toed, +flattish foot of the Egyptian statue, while the Arab foot is classically +perfect and you could put your hand under the instep. The beauty +of the Ababdeh, black, naked, and shaggy-haired, is quite marvellous. +I never saw such delicate limbs and features, or such eyes and teeth.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>March</i> 19.</p> +<p>After leaving Siout I caught cold. The worst of going up the +Nile is that one must come down again and find horrid fogs, and cold +nights with sultry days. So I did not attempt Sakhara and the +Pyramids, but came a day before my appointed time to Cairo. Up +here in the town it is much warmer and dryer, and my cough is better +already. I found all your letters in many volumes, and was so +excited over reading them that I could not sleep one moment last night, +so excuse dulness, but I thought you’d like to know I was safe +in Briggs’ bank, and expecting Janet and Ross to-night.</p> +<h3>April 9, 1863: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>April</i> 9, 1863.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I write to you because I know Janet is sure to write to Alick. +I have had a very severe attack of bronchitis. As I seemed to +be getting worse after Janet and Ross left for Alexandria, Omar very +wisely sent for Hekekian Bey, who came at once bringing De Leo Bey, +the surgeon-in-chief of the Pasha’s troops, and also the doctor +to the hareem. He has been most kind, coming two and three times +a day at first. He won’t take any fee, <i>sous prétexte</i> +that he is <i>officier du Pasha</i>; I must send him a present from +England. As to Hekekian Bey, he is absolutely the Good Samaritan, +and these Orientals do their kindnesses with such an air of enjoyment +to themselves that it seems quite a favour to let them wait upon one. +Hekekian comes in every day with his handsome old face and a budget +of news, all the gossip of the Sultan and his doings. I shall +always fancy the Good Samaritan in a tarboosh with a white beard and +very long eyes. I am out of bed to-day for the second time, and +waiting for a warm day to go out. Sally saw the illuminations +last night; the Turkish bazaar she says was gorgeous. The Sultan +and all his suite have not eaten bread here, all their food comes from +Constantinople. To-morrow the Mahmaal goes—think of my missing +that sight! <i>C’est désclant</i>.</p> +<p>I have a black slave—a real one. I looked at her little +ears wondering they had not been bored for rings. She fancied +I wished them bored (she was sitting on the floor close at my side), +and in a minute she stood up and showed me her ear with a great pin +through it: ‘Is that well, lady?’ the creature is eight +years old. The shock nearly made me faint. What extremities +of terror had reduced that little mind to such a state. She is +very good and gentle, and sews quite nicely already. When she +first came, she tells me, she thought I should eat her; now her one +dread is that I should leave her behind. She sings a wild song +of joy to Maurice’s picture and about the little Sitt. She +was sent from Khartoum as a present to Mr. Thayer, who has no woman-servant +at all. He fetched me to look at her, and when I saw the terror-stricken +creature being coarsely pulled about by his cook and groom, I said I +would take her for the present. Sally teaches her, and she is +very good; but now she has set her whole little black soul upon me. +De Leo can give no opinion as to what I ought to do, as he knows little +but Egypt, and thinks England rather like Norway, I fancy. Only +don’t let me be put in a dreadful mountain valley; I hear the +drip, drip, drip of Eaux Bonnes in bad dreams still, when I am chilly +and oppressed in my sleep. I’ll write again soon, send this +to Alick, please.</p> +<h3>April 13, 1863: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>April</i> 13, 1863.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>You will have heard from my mother of my ill luck, falling sick again. +The fact is that the spring in Egypt is very trying, and I came down +the river a full month too soon. People do tell such lies about +the heat. To-day is the first warm day we have had; till now I +have been shivering, and Sally too. I have been out twice, and +saw the holy Mahmaal rest for its first station outside the town, it +is a deeply affecting sight—all those men prepared to endure such +hardship. They halt among the tombs of the Khalìfah, such +a spot. Omar’s eyes were full of tears and his voice shaking +with emotion, as he talked about it and pointed out the Mahmaal and +the Sheykh al-Gemel, who leads the sacred camel, naked to the waist +with flowing hair. Muslim piety is so unlike what Europeans think +it is, so full of tender emotions, so much more sentimental than we +imagine—and it is wonderfully strong. I used to hear Omar +praying outside my door while I was so ill, ‘O God, make her better. +O my God, let her sleep,’ as naturally as we should say, ‘I +hope she’ll have a good night.’</p> +<p>The Sultan’s coming is a kind of riddle. No one knows +what he wants. The Pasha has ordered all the women of the lower +classes to keep indoors while he is here. Arab women are outspoken, +and might shout out their grievances to the great Sultan.</p> +<p><i>April</i> 15.—I continue to get better slowly, and in a +few days will go down to Alexandria. Omar is gone to Boulak to +inquire the cost of a boat, as I am not fond of the railroad, and have +a good deal of heavy baggage, cooking utensils, etc., which the railway +charges enormously for. The black slave girl, sent as a present +to the American Consul-General, is as happy as possible, and sings quaint, +soft little Kordofan songs all day. I hope you won’t object +to my bringing her home. She wails so terribly when Omar tells +her she is not my slave, for fear I should leave her, and insists on +being my slave. She wants to be a present to Rainie, the little +Sitt, and laughs out so heartily at the thought of her. She is +very quiet and gentle, poor little savage, and the utter slavishness +of the poor little soul quite upsets me; she has no will of her own. +Now she has taken to talking, and tells all her woes and how <i>batal</i> +(bad) everyone was at Khartoum; and then she rubs her little black nose +on my hand, and laughs so merrily, and says all is <i>quyis keteer</i> +(very good) here, and she hugs herself with delight. I think Rainie +will like her very much.</p> +<p>I am going to visit an old Muslim French painter’s family. +He has an Arab wife and grown-up daughters, and is a very agreeable +old man with a store of Arab legends; I am going to persuade him to +write them and let me translate them into English. The Sultan +goes away to-day. Even water to drink has been brought from Constantinople; +I heard that from Hekekian Bey, who formerly owned the eunuch who is +now Kislar Aghasy to the Sultan himself. Hekekian had the honour +of kissing his old slave’s hand. If anyone tries to make +you believe any bosh about civilization in Egypt, laugh at it. +The real life and the real people are exactly as described in the most +veracious of books, the ‘Thousand and One Nights’; the tyranny +is the same, the people are not altered—and very charming people +they are. If I could but speak the language I could get into Arab +society here through two or three different people, and see more than +many Europeans who have lived here all their lives. The Arabs +are keenly alive to the least prejudice against them, but when they +feel quite safe on that point they rather like the amusement of a stranger.</p> +<p>Omar devised a glorious scheme, if I were only well and strong, of +putting me in a takterrawan and taking me to Mecca in the character +of his mother, supposed to be a Turk. To a European man, of course, +it would be impossible, but an enterprising woman might do it easily +with a Muslim confederate. Fancy seeing the pilgrimage! +In a few days I shall go down to Alexandria, if it makes me ill again +I must return to Europe or go to Beyrout. I can’t get a +boat under £12; thus do the Arabs understand competition; the +owner of boats said so few were wanted, times were bad on account of +the railway, etc., he must have double what he used to charge. +In vain Omar argued that that was not the way to get employment. +‘Maleesh!’ (Never mind!), and so I must go by rail. +Is not that Eastern? Up the river, where there is no railroad, +I might have had it at half that rate. All you have ever told +me as most Spanish in Spain is in full vigour here, and also I am reminded +of Ireland at every turn; the same causes produce the same effects.</p> +<p>To-day the Khamseen is blowing and it is decidedly hot, quite unlike +the heat at the Cape; this is close and gloomy, no sunshine. Altogether +the climate is far less bright than I expected, very, very inferior +to the Cape. Nevertheless, I heartily agree to the Arab saying: +‘He who has drunk Nile water will ever long to drink it again’; +and when a graceful woman in a blue shirt and veil lifts a huge jar +from her shoulder and holds it to your lips with a hearty smile and +welcome, it tastes doubly sweet. <i>Alhamdulillah</i>! Sally +says all other water is like bad small-beer compared to sweet ale after +the Nile water. When the Khamseen is over, Omar insists on my +going to see the tree and the well where Sittina Mariam rested with +Seyidna Issa <a name="citation55"></a><a href="#footnote55">{55}</a> +in her arms during the flight into Egypt. It is venerated by Christian +and Muslim alike, and is a great place for feasting and holiday-making +out of doors, which the Arabs so dearly love. Do write and tell +me what you wish me to do. If it were not that I cannot endure +not to see you and the children, I would stay here and take a house +at the Abbassieh in the desert; but I could not endure it. Nor +can I endure this wandering life much longer. I must come home +and die in peace if I don’t get really better. Write to +Alexandria next.</p> +<h3>April 18, 1863: Mr. Tom Taylor</h3> +<p><i>To Mr. Tom Taylor</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>April</i> 18, 1863.</p> +<p>My dear Tom,</p> +<p>Your letter and Laura’s were a great pleasure to me in this +distant land. I could not answer before, as I have been very ill. +But Samaritans came with oil and wine and comforted me. It had +an odd, dreary effect to hear my friend Hekekian Bey, a learned old +Armenian, and De Leo Bey, my doctor, discoursing Turkish at my bedside, +while my faithful Omar cried and prayed <i>Yah Robbeena</i>! <i>Yah +Saatir</i>! (O Lord! O Preserver!) ‘don’t let her +die.’</p> +<p>Alick is quite right that I am in love with the Arabs’ ways, +and I have contrived to see and know more of family life than many Europeans +who have lived here for years. When the Arabs feel that one really +cares for them, they heartily return it. If I could only speak +the language I could see anything. Cairo <i>is</i> the Arabian +Nights; there is a little Frankish varnish here and there, but the government, +the people—all is unchanged since that most veracious book was +written. No words can describe the departure of the holy Mahmal +and the pilgrims for Mecca. I spent half the day loitering about +in the Bedaween tents admiring the glorious, free people. To see +a Bedaween and his wife walk through the streets of Cairo is superb. +Her hand resting on his shoulder, and scarcely deigning to cover her +haughty face, she looks down on the Egyptian veiled woman who carries +the heavy burden and walks behind her lord and master.</p> +<p>By no deed of my own have I become a slave-owner. The American +Consul-General turned over to me a black girl of eight or nine, and +in consequence of her reports the poor little black boy who is the slave +and marmiton of the cook here has been entreating Omar to beg me to +buy him and take him with me. It is touching to see the two poor +little black things recounting their woes and comparing notes. +I went yesterday to deposit my cooking things and boat furniture at +my washerwoman’s house. Seeing me arrive on my donkey, followed +by a cargo of household goods, about eight or ten Arab women thronged +round delighted at the idea that I was coming to live in their quarter, +and offering me neighbourly services. Of course all rushed upstairs, +and my old washerwoman was put to great expense in pipes and coffee. +I think, as you, that I must have the ‘black drop,’ and +that the Arabs see it, for I am always told that I am like them, with +praises of my former good looks. ‘You were beautiful Hareem +once.’ Nothing is more striking to me than the way in which +one is constantly reminded of Herodotus. The Christianity and +the Islam of this country are full of the ancient worship, and the sacred +animals have all taken service with Muslim saints. At Minieh one +reigns over crocodiles; higher up I saw the hole of Æsculapius’ +serpent at Gebel Sheykh Hereedee, and I fed the birds—as did Herodotus—who +used to tear the cordage of boats which refused to feed them, and who +are now the servants of Sheykh Naooneh, and still come on board by scores +for the bread which no Reis dares refuse them. Bubastis’ +cats are still fed in the Cadi’s court at public expense in Cairo, +and behave with singular decorum when ‘the servant of the cats’ +serves them their dinner. Among gods, Amun Ra, the sun-god and +serpent-killer, calls himself Mar Girgis (St. George), and is worshipped +by Christians and Muslims in the same churches, and Osiris holds his +festivals as riotously as ever at Tanta in the Delta, under the name +of Seyd el Bedawee. The <i>fellah</i> women offer sacrifices to +the Nile, and walk round ancient statues in order to have children. +The ceremonies at births and burials are not Muslim, but ancient Egyptian.</p> +<p>The Copts are far more close and reserved and backward than the Arabs, +and they have been so repudiated by Europeans that they are doubly shy +of us. The Europeans resent being called ‘Nazranee’ +as a genteel Hebrew gentleman may shrink from ‘Jew.’ +But I said boldly, ‘<i>Ana Nazraneeh</i>. <i>Alhamdulillah</i>!’ +(I am a Nazranee. Praise be to God), and found that it was much +approved by the Muslims as well as the Copts. Curious things are +to be seen here in religion—Muslims praying at the tomb of Mar +Girgis (St. George) and the resting-places of Sittina Mariam and Seyidna +Issa, and miracles, brand-new, of an equally mixed description.</p> +<p>If you have any power over any artists, send them to paint here. +No words can describe either the picturesque beauty of Cairo or the +splendid forms of the people in Upper Egypt, and above all in Nubia. +I was in raptures at seeing how superb an animal man (and woman) really +is. My donkey-girl at Thebes, dressed like a Greek statue—Ward +es-Sham (the Rose of Syria)—was a feast to the eyes; and here, +too, what grace and sweetness, and how good is a drink of Nile water +out of an amphora held to your lips by a woman as graceful as she is +kindly. ‘May it benefit thee,’ she says, smiling with +all her beautiful teeth and eyes. ‘<i>Alhamdulillah</i>,’ +you reply; and it is worth thanking God for. The days of the beauty +of Cairo are numbered. The mosques are falling to decay, the exquisite +lattice windows rotting away and replaced by European glass and jalousies. +Only the people and the Government remain unchanged. Read all +the pretty paragraphs about civilisation here, and then say, Bosh!</p> +<p>If you know anyone coming here and wanting a good servant and dragoman, +recommend my dear Omar Abou el-Haláweh of Alexandria. He +has been my friend and companion, as well as my cook and general servant, +now for six months, and we are very sad at our approaching separation. +I am to spend a day in his house with his young wife at Alexandria, +and to eat his bread. He sadly wants to go with me to Europe and +to see my children. Sally, I think, is almost as fond of the Arabs +as I am, and very popular. My poor ragged crew were for ever calling +out ‘Yah Sara’ for some assistance or other, hurt fingers +or such calamities; and the quantity of doctoring I did was fearful. +Sally was constantly wishing for you to see all manner of things and +to sketch. What a yarn I have made!</p> +<h3>May 12, 1863: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Alexandria</span>,<br /> +<i>May</i> 12, 1863.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I have been here a fortnight, but the climate disagrees so much with +me that I am going back to Cairo at once by the advice of the doctor +of the Suez Canal. I cannot shake off my cough here. Mr. +Thayer kindly lends me his nice little bachelor house, and I take Omar +back again for the job. It is very hot here, but with a sea-breeze +which strikes me like ice; strong people enjoy it, but it gives even +Janet cold in the head. She is very well, I think, and seems very +happy. She is <i>Times</i> correspondent and does it very well.</p> +<p>I am terribly disappointed at not being as materially better as I +had hoped I should be while in Upper Egypt. I cannot express the +longing I have for home and my children, and how much I feel the sort +of suspense it all causes to you and to Alick, and my desire to be with +you.</p> +<p>One must come to the East to understand absolute equality. +As there is no education and no reason why the donkey-boy who runs behind +me may not become a great man, and as all Muslims are <i>ipso facto</i> +equal; money and rank are looked on as mere accidents, and my <i>savoir +vivre</i> was highly thought of because I sat down with Fellaheen and +treated everyone as they treat each other. In Alexandria all that +is changed. The European ideas and customs have extinguished the +Arab altogether, and those who remain are not improved by the contact. +Only the <i>Bedaween</i> preserve their haughty <i>nonchalance</i>. +I found the Mograbee bazaar full of them when I went to buy a white +cloak, and was amused at the way in which one splendid bronze figure, +who lay on the shop-front, moved one leg to let me sit down. They +got interested in my purchase, and assisted in making the bargain and +wrapping the cloak round me Bedawee fashion, and they too complimented +me on having ‘the face of the Arab,’ which means Bedaween. +I wanted a little Arab dress for Rainie, but could not find one, as +at her age none are worn in the desert.</p> +<p>I dined one day with Omar, or rather I ate at his house, for he would +not eat with me. His sister-in-law cooked a most admirable dinner, +and everyone was delighted. It was an interesting family circle. +A very respectable elder brother a confectioner, whose elder wife was +a black woman, a really remarkable person, who speaks Italian perfectly, +and gave me a great deal of information and asked such intelligent questions. +She ruled the house but had no children, so he had married a fair, gentle-looking +Arab woman who had six children, and all lived in perfect harmony. +Omar’s wife is a tall, handsome girl of his own age, with very +good manners. She had been outside the door of the close little +court which constituted the house <i>once</i> since her marriage. +I now begin to understand all about the <i>wesen</i> with the women. +There is a good deal of chivalry in some respects, and in the respectable +lower and middle classes the result is not so bad. I suspect that +among the rich few are very happy. But I don’t know them, +or anything of the Turkish ways. I will go and see the black woman +again and hear more, her conversation was really interesting.</p> +<h3>May 12, 1863: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Alexandria</span>,<br /> +<i>May</i> 12, 1863.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I only got your letter an hour ago, and the mail goes out at four. +I enclose to you the letter I had written to my mother, so I need not +repeat about my plans. Continue to write here, a letter comes +as soon and safer. My general health is so much stronger and better—especially +before I had this last severe attack—that I still hope, though +it is a severe trial of patience not to throw it up and come home for +good. It would be delightful to have you at Cairo now I have pots +and pans and all needful for a house, but a carpet and a few mattresses, +if you could camp with me <i>à l’Arabe</i>.</p> +<p>How you would revel in old Masr el-Kahira, peep up at lattice windows, +gape like a <i>gasheem</i> (green one) in the bazaar, go wild over the +mosques, laugh at portly Turks and dignified Sheykhs on their white +donkeys, drink sherbet in the streets, ride wildly about on a donkey, +peer under black veils at beautiful eyes and feel generally intoxicated! +I am quite a good cicerone now of the glorious old city. Omar +is in raptures at the idea that the Sidi el Kebir (the Great Master) +might come, and still more if he brought the ‘little master.’ +He plans meeting you on the steamboat and bringing you to me, that I +may kiss your hand first of all. Mashallah! How our hearts +would be dilated!</p> +<h3>May 21, 1863: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Masr el-Kahira</span>, <span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>May</i> 21, 1863.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I came here on Saturday night. To-day is Wednesday, and I am +already much better. I have attached an excellent donkey and his +master, a delightful youth called Hassan, to my household for fifteen +piastres (under two shillings) a day. They live at the door, and +Hassan cleans the stairs and goes errands during the heat of the day, +and I ride out very early, at six or seven, and again at five. +The air is delicious now. It is very hot for a few hours, but +not stifling, and the breeze does not chill one as it does at Alexandria. +I live all day and all night with open windows, and plenty of fresh +warm air is the best of remedies. I can do no better than stay +here till the heat becomes too great. I left little Zeyneb at +Alexandria with Janet’s maid Ellen who quite loves her, and begged +to keep her ‘for company,’ and also to help in their removal +to the new house. She clung about me and made me promise to come +back to her, but was content to stop with Ellen, whose affection she +of course returns. It was pleasant to see her so happy, and how +she relished being ‘put to bed’ with a kiss by Ellen or +Sally. Her Turkish master, whom she pronounces to have been <i>batal</i> +(bad), called her Salaam es-Sidi (the Peace of her Master); but she +said that in her own village she used to be Zeyneb, and so we call her. +She has grown fatter and, if possible, blacker. Mahbrooka (Good +Fortune), the elder wife of Hegab, the confectioner, was much interested +in her, as her fate had been the same. She was bought by an Italian +who lived with her till his death, when she married Hegab. She +is a pious Muslimeh, and invoked the intercession of Seyidna Mohammad +for me when I told her I had no intention of baptizing Zeyneb by force, +as had been done to her.</p> +<p>The fault of my lodging here is the noise. We are on the road +from the railway and there is no quiet except in the few hot hours, +when nothing is heard but the cool tinkle of the Sakka’s brass +cup as he sells water in the street, or perchance <i>erksoos</i> (liquorice-water), +or caroub or raisin sherbet. The <i>erksoos</i> is rather bitter +and very good. I drink it a good deal, for drink one must; a gulleh +of water is soon gone. A gulleh is a wide-mouthed porous jar, +and Nile water drunk out of it without the intervention of a glass is +delicious. Omar goes to market every morning with a donkey—I +went too, and was much amused—and cooks, and in the evening goes +out with me if I want him. I told him I had recommended him highly, +and hoped he would get good employment; but he declares that he will +go with no one else so long as I come to Egypt, whatever the difference +of wages may be. ‘The bread I eat with you is sweet’—a +pretty little unconscious antithesis to Dante. I have been advising +his brother Hajjee Ali to start a hotel at Thebes for invalids, and +he has already set about getting a house there; there is <i>one</i>. +Next winter there will be steamers twice a week—to Assouan! +Juvenal’s distant Syene, where he died in banishment. My +old washerwoman sent me a fervent entreaty through Omar that I would +dine with her one day, since I had made Cairo delightful with my presence. +If one will only devour these people’s food, they are enchanted; +they like that much better than a present. So I will honour her +house some day. Good old Hannah, she is divorced for being too +fat and old, and replaced by a young Turk whose family sponge on Hajjee +Ali and are condescending. If I could afford it, I would have +a sketch of a beloved old mosque of mine, falling to decay, and with +three palm-trees growing in the middle of it. Indeed, I would +have a book full, for all is exquisite, and alas, all is going. +The old Copt quarter is <i>entamé</i>, and hideous, shabby French +houses, like the one I live in, are being run up; and in this weather +how much better would be the Arab courtyard, with its mastabah and fountain!</p> +<p>There is a quarrel now in the street; how they talk and gesticulate, +and everybody puts in a word; a boy has upset a cake-seller’s +tray, ‘<i>Naal Abu’k</i>!’ (Curses on your father) +he claims six piastres damages, and everyone gives an opinion <i>pour +ou contre</i>. We all look out of the window; my opposite neighbour, +the pretty Armenian woman, leans out, and her diamond head-ornaments +and earrings glitter as she laughs like a child. The Christian +dyer is also very active in the row, which, like all Arab rows, ends +in nothing; it evaporates in fine theatrical gestures and lots of talk. +Curious! In the street they are so noisy, but get the same men +in a coffee-shop or anywhere, and they are the quietest of mankind. +Only one man speaks at a time, the rest listen, and never interrupt; +twenty men don’t make the noise of three Europeans.</p> +<p>Hekekian Bey is my near neighbour, and he comes in and we <i>fronder</i> +the Government. His heart is sore with disinterested grief for +the sufferings of the people. ‘Don’t they deserve +to be decently governed, to be allowed a little happiness and prosperity? +They are so docile, so contented; are they not a good people?’ +Those were his words as he was recounting some new iniquity. Of +course half these acts are done under pretext of improving and civilizing, +and the Europeans applaud and say, ‘Oh, but nothing could be done +without forced labour,’ and the poor Fellaheen are marched off +in gangs like convicts, and their families starve, and (who’d +have thought it) the population keeps diminishing. No wonder the +cry is, ‘Let the English Queen come and take us.’ +You see, I don’t see things quite as Ross does, but mine is another +<i>standpunkt</i>, and my heart is with the Arabs. I care less +about opening up the trade with the Soudan and all the new railways, +and I should like to see person and property safe, which no one’s +is here (Europeans, of course, excepted). Ismail Pasha got the +Sultan to allow him to take 90,000 feddans of uncultivated land for +himself as private property, very well, but the late Viceroy Said granted +eight years ago certain uncultivated lands to a good many Turks, his +<i>employés</i>, in hopes of founding a landed aristocracy and +inducing them to spend their capital in cultivation. They did +so, and now Ismail Pasha takes their improved land and gives them feddan +for feddan of his new land, which will take five years to bring into +cultivation, instead. He forces them to sign a <i>voluntary</i> +deed of exchange, or they go off to Fazogloo, a hot Siberia whence none +return. The Sultan also left a large sum of money for religious +institutions and charities—Muslim, Jew, and Christian. None +have received a foddah. It is true the Sultan and his suite plundered +the Pasha and the people here; but from all I hear the Sultan really +wishes to do good. What is wanted here is hands to till the ground, +and wages are very high; food, of course, gets dearer, and the forced +labour inflicts more suffering than before, and the population will +decrease yet faster. This appears to me to be a state of things +in which it is no use to say that public works must be made at any cost. +The wealth will perhaps be increased, if meanwhile the people are not +exterminated. Then, every new Pasha builds a huge new palace while +those of his predecessors fall to ruin. Mehemet Ali’s sons +even cut down the trees of his beautiful botanical garden and planted +beans there; so money is constantly wasted more than if it were thrown +into the Nile, for then the Fellaheen would not have to spend their +time, so much wanted for agriculture, in building hideous barrack-like +so-called palaces. What chokes me is to hear English people talk +of the stick being ‘the only way to manage Arabs’ as if +anyone could doubt that it is the easiest way to manage any people where +it can be used with impunity.</p> +<p><i>Sunday</i>.—I went to a large unfinished new Coptic church +this morning. Omar went with me up to the women’s gallery, +and was discreetly going back when he saw me in the right place, but +the Coptic women began to talk to him and asked questions about me all +the time I was looking down on the strange scene below. I believe +they celebrate the ancient mysteries still. The clashing of cymbals, +the chanting, a humming unlike any sound I ever heard, the strange yellow +copes covered with stranger devices—it was <i>wunderlich</i>. +At the end everyone went away, and I went down and took off my shoes +to go and look at the church. While I was doing so a side-door +opened and a procession entered. A priest dressed in the usual +black robe and turban of all Copts carrying a trident-shaped sort of +candlestick, another with cymbals, a lot of little boys, and two young +ecclesiastics of some sort in the yellow satin copes (contrasting queerly +with the familiar tarboosh of common life on their heads), these carried +little babies and huge wax tapers, each a baby and a taper. They +marched round and round three times, the cymbals going furiously, and +chanting a jig tune. The dear little tiny boys marched just in +front of the priest with such a pretty little solemn, consequential +air. Then they all stopped in front of the sanctuary, and the +priest untied a sort of broad-coloured tape which was round each of +the babies, reciting something in Coptic all the time, and finally touched +their foreheads and hands with water. This is a ceremony subsequent +to baptism after I don’t know how many days, but the priest ties +and then unties the bands. Of what is this symbolical? <i>Je +m’y perds</i>. Then an old man gave a little round cake +of bread, with a cabalistic-looking pattern on it, both to Omar and +to me, which was certainly baked for Isis. A lot of closely-veiled +women stood on one side in the aisle, and among them the mothers of +the babies who received them from the men in yellow copes at the end +of the ceremony. One of these young men was very handsome, and +as he stood looking down and smiling on the baby he held, with the light +of the torch sharpening the lines of his features, would have made a +lovely picture. The expression was sweeter than St. Vincent de +Paul, because his smile told that he could have played with the baby +as well as have prayed for it. In this country one gets to see +how much more beautiful a perfectly natural expression is than any degree +of the mystical expression of the best painters, and it is so refreshing +that no one tries to look pious. The Muslim looks serious, and +often warlike, as he stands at prayer. The Christian just keeps +his everyday face. When the Muslim gets into a state of devotional +frenzy he does not think of making a face, and it is quite tremendous. +I don’t think the Copt has any such ardours, but the scene this +morning was all the more touching that no one was ‘behaving him +or herself’ at all. A little acolyte peeped into the sacramental +cup and swigged off the drops left in it with the most innocent air, +and no one rebuked him, and the quite little children ran about in the +sanctuary—up to seven they are privileged—and only they +and the priests enter it. It is a pretty commentary on the words +‘Suffer the little children,’ etc.</p> +<p>I am more and more annoyed at not being able to ask questions for +myself, as I don’t like to ask through a Muslim and no Copts speak +any foreign language, or very very few. Omar and Hassan had been +at five this morning to the tomb of Sittina Zeyneb, one of the daughters +of the Prophet, to ‘see her’ (Sunday is her day of reception), +and say the Fathah at her tomb. Next Friday the great Bairam begins +and every Muslim eats a bit of meat at his richer neighbour’s +expense. It is the day on which the pilgrims go up the sacred +mount near Mecca, to hear the sermon which terminates the Haj. +Yesterday I went to call on pretty Mrs. Wilkinson, she is an Armenian +of the Greek faith, and was gone to pray at the convent of Mar Girgis +(St. George) to cure the pains a bad rheumatic fever has left in her +hands. Evidently Mar Girgis is simply Ammon Ra, the God of the +Sun and great serpent-slayer, who is still revered in Egypt by all sects, +and Seyd el-Bedawee is as certainly one form of Osiris. His festivals, +held twice a year at Tanta, still display the symbol of the Creator +of all things. All is thus here—the women wail the dead, +as on the old sculptures, all the ceremonies are pagan, and would shock +an Indian Mussulman as much as his objection to eat with a Christian +shocks an Arab. This country is a palimpsest, in which the Bible +is written over Herodotus, and the Koran over that. In the towns +the Koran is most visible, in the country Herodotus. I fancy it +is most marked and most curious among the Copts, whose churches are +shaped like the ancient temples, but they are so much less accessible +than the Arabs that I know less of their customs.</p> +<p>Now I have filled such a long letter I hardly know if it is worth +sending, and whether you will be amused by my commonplaces of Eastern +life. I kill a sheep next Friday, and Omar will cook a stupendous +dish for the poor Fellaheen who are lying about the railway-station, +waiting to be taken to work somewhere. That is to be my Bairam, +and Omar hopes for great benefit for me from the process.</p> +<h3>May 25, 1863: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>May</i> 25, 1863.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I have spun such a yarn to my mother that I shall make it serve for +both. It may amuse you to see what impression Cairo makes. +I ride along on my valiant donkey led by the stalwart Hassan and attended +by Omar, and constantly say, ‘Oh, if our master were here, how +pleased he would be’—husband is not a correct word.</p> +<p>I went out to the tombs yesterday. Fancy that Omar witnessed +the destruction of some sixty-eight or so of the most exquisite buildings—the +tombs and mosques of the Arab Khaleefehs, which Said Pasha used to divert +himself with bombarding for practice for his artillery. Omar was +then in the boy corps of camel artillery, now disbanded. Thus +the Pasha added the piquancy of sacrilege to barbarity.</p> +<p>The street and the neighbours would divert you. Opposite lives +a Christian dyer who must be a seventh brother of the admirable barber. +The same impertinence, loquacity, and love of meddling in everybody’s +business. I long to see him thrashed, though he is a constant +comedy. My delightful servant, Omar Abou-el-Halláweh (the +father of sweets)—his family are pastrycooks—is the type +of all the amiable <i>jeune premiers</i> of the stories. I am +privately of opinion that he is Bedr-ed-Deen Hassan, the more that he +can make cream tarts and there is no pepper in them. Cream tarts +are not very good, but lamb stuffed with pistachio nuts fulfils all +one’s dreams of excellence. The Arabs next door and the +Levantines opposite are quiet enough, but how <i>do</i> they eat all +the cucumbers they buy of the man who cries them every morning as ‘fruit +gathered by sweet girls in the garden with the early dew.’</p> +<p>The more I see of the back-slums of Cairo, the more in love I am +with it. The oldest European towns are tame and regular in comparison, +and the people are so pleasant. If you smile at anything that +amuses you, you get the kindest, brightest smiles in return; they give +hospitality with their faces, and if one brings out a few words, ‘Mashallah! +what Arabic the Sitt Ingleez speaks.’ The Arabs are clever +enough to understand the amusement of a stranger and to enter into it, +and are amused in turn, and they are wonderfully unprejudiced. +When Omar explains to me their views on various matters, he adds: ‘The +Arab people think so—I know not if right;’ and the way in +which the Arab merchants worked the electric telegraph, and the eagerness +of the Fellaheen for steam-ploughs, are quite extraordinary. They +are extremely clever and nice children, easily amused, easily roused +into a fury which lasts five minutes and leaves no malice, and half +the lying and cheating of which they are accused comes from misunderstanding +and ignorance. When I first took Omar he was by way of ‘ten +pounds, twenty pounds,’ being nothing for my dignity. But +as soon as I told him that ‘my master was a Bey who got £100 +a month and no backsheesh,’ he was as careful as if for himself. +They see us come here and do what only their greatest Pashas do, hire +a boat to ourselves, and, of course, think our wealth is boundless. +The lying is mostly from fright. They dare not suggest a difference +of opinion to a European, and lie to get out of scrapes which blind +obedience has often got them into. As to the charges of shopkeepers, +that is the custom, and the haggling a ceremony you must submit to. +It is for the purchaser or employer to offer a price and fix wages—the +reverse of Europe—and if you ask the price they ask something +fabulous at random.</p> +<p>I hope to go home next month, as soon as it gets too hot here and +is likely to be warm enough in England. I do so long to see the +children again.</p> +<h3>October 19, 1863: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Alexandria</span>,<br /> +<i>October</i> 19, 1863.</p> +<p>We had a wretched voyage, good weather, but such a <i>pétaudière</i> +of a ship. I am competent to describe the horrors of the middle +passage—hunger, suffocation, dirt, and such <i>canaille</i>, high +and low, on board. The only gentleman was a poor Moor going to +Mecca (who stowed his wife and family in a spare boiler on deck). +I saw him washing his children in the morning! ‘<i>Que c’est +degoutant</i>!’ was the cry of the French spectators. If +an Arab washes he is a <i>sale cochon</i>—no wonder! A delicious +man who sat near me on deck, when the sun came round to our side, growled +between his clenched teeth: ‘<i>Voilà un tas d’intrigants +a l’ombre tandis que le soleil me grille, moi</i>,’ a good +resume of French politics, methinks. Well, on arriving at noon +of Friday, I was consoled for all by seeing Janet in a boat looking +as fresh and bright and merry as ever she could look. The heat +has evidently not hurt her at all. Omar’s joy was intense. +He has had an offer of a place as messenger with the mails to Suez and +back, £60 a year; and also his brother wanted him for Lady Herbert +of Lea, who has engaged Hajjee Ali, and Ali promised high pay, but Omar +said that he could not leave me. ‘I think my God give her +to me to take care of her, how then I leave her if she not well and +not very rich? I can’t speak to my God if I do bad things +like that.’ I am going to his house to-day to see the baby +and Hajjee Hannah, who is just come down from Cairo. Omar is gone +to try to get a dahabieh to go up the river, as I hear that the half-railway, +half-steamer journey is dreadfully inconvenient and fatiguing, and the +sight of the overflowing Nile is said to be magnificent, it is all over +the land and eight miles of the railway gone. Omar kisses your +hand and is charmed with the knife, but far more that my family should +know his name and be satisfied with my servant.</p> +<p>I cannot live in Thayer’s house because the march of civilization +has led a party of French and Wallachian women into the ground-floor +thereof to instruct the ignorant Arabs in drinking, card-playing, and +other vices. So I will consult Hajjee Hannah to-day; she may know +of an empty house and would make divan cushions for me. Zeyneb +is much grown and very active and intelligent, but a little louder and +bolder than she was owing to the maids here wanting to christianize +her, and taking her out unveiled, and letting her be among the men. +However, she is as affectionate as ever, and delighted at the prospect +of going with me. I have replaced the veil, and Sally has checked +her tongue and scolded her sister Ellen for want of decorum, to the +amazement of the latter. Janet has a darling Nubian boy. +Oh dear! what an elegant person Omar seemed after the French ‘gentleman,’ +and how noble was old Hamees’s (Janet’s doorkeeper) paternal +but reverential blessing! It is a real comfort to live in a nation +of truly well-bred people and to encounter kindness after the savage +incivility of France.</p> +<p><i>Tuesday</i>, <i>October</i> 20.</p> +<p>Omar has got a boat for £13, which is not more than the railway +would cost now that half must be done by steamer and a bit on donkeys +or on foot. Poor Hajjee Hannah was quite knocked up by the journey +down; I shall take her up in my boat. Two and a half hours to +sit grilling at noonday on the banks, and two miles to walk carrying +one’s own baggage is hard lines for a fat old woman. Everything +is almost double in price owing to the cattle murrain and the high Nile. +Such an inundation as this year was never known before. Does the +blue God resent Speke’s intrusion on his privacy? It will +be a glorious sight, but the damage to crops, and even to the last year’s +stacks of grain and beans, is frightful. One sails among the palm-trees +and over the submerged cotton-fields. Ismail Pasha has been very +active, but, alas! his ‘eye is bad,’ and there have been +as many calamities as under Pharaoh in his short reign. The cattle +murrain is fearful, and is now beginning in Cairo and Upper Egypt. +Ross reckons the loss at twelve millions sterling in cattle. The +gazelles in the desert have it too, but not horses, asses or goats.</p> +<h3>October 26, 1863: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Alexandria</span>,<br /> +<i>October</i> 26, 1863.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I went to two hareems the other day with a little boy of Mustapha +Aga’s, and was much pleased. A very pleasant Turkish lady +put out all her splendid bedding and dresses for me, and was most amiable. +At another a superb Arab with most <i>grande dame</i> manners, dressed +in white cotton and with unpainted face, received me statelily. +Her house would drive you wild, such antique enamelled tiles covering +the panels of the walls, all divided by carved woods, and such carved +screens and galleries, all very old and rather dilapidated, but superb, +and the lady worthy of the house. A bold-eyed slave girl with +a baby put herself forward for admiration, and was ordered to bring +coffee with such cool though polite imperiousness. One of our +great ladies can’t half crush a rival in comparison, she does +it too coarsely. The quiet scorn of the pale-faced, black-haired +Arab was beyond any English powers. Then it was fun to open the +lattice and make me look out on the square, and to wonder what the neighbours +would say at the sight of my face and European hat. She asked +about my children and blessed them repeatedly, and took my hand very +kindly in doing so, for fear I should think her envious and fear her +eye—she had none.</p> +<p><i>Tuesday</i>.—The post goes out to-morrow, and I have such +a cold I must stay in bed and cannot write much. I go on Thursday +and shall go to Briggs’ house. Pray write to me at Cairo. +Sally and I are both unwell and anxious to get up the river. I +can’t write more.</p> +<h3>October 31, 1863: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Kafr Zeyat</span>,<br /> +<i>October</i> 31, 1863.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>We left Alexandria on Thursday about noon, and sailed with a fair +wind along the Mahmoudieh Canal. My little boat flies like a bird, +and my men are a capital set of fellows, bold and careful sailors. +I have only seven in all, but they work well, and at a pinch Omar leaves +the pots and pans and handles a rope or a pole manfully. We sailed +all night and passed the locks at Atleh at four o’clock yesterday, +and were greeted by old Nile tearing down like a torrent. The +river is magnificent, ‘seven men’s height,’ my Reis +says, above its usual pitch; it has gone down five or six feet and left +a sad scene of havoc on either side. However what the Nile takes +he repays with threefold interest, they say. The women are at +work rebuilding their mud huts, and the men repairing the dykes. +A Frenchman told me he was on board a Pasha’s steamer under M. +de Lesseps’ command, and they passed a flooded village where two +hundred or so people stood on their roofs crying for help. Would +you, could you, believe it that they passed on and left them to drown? +None but an eyewitness could have made me believe such villainy.</p> +<p>All to-day we sailed in such heavenly weather—a sky like nothing +but its most beautiful self. At the bend of the river just now +we had a grand struggle to get round, and got entangled with a big timber +boat. My crew got so vehement that I had to come out with an imperious +request to everyone to bless the Prophet. Then the boat nearly +pulled the men into the stream, and they pulled and hauled and struggled +up to their waists in mud and water, and Omar brandished his pole and +shouted ‘Islam el Islam!’ which gave a fresh spirit to the +poor fellows, and round we came with a dash and caught the breeze again. +Now we have put up for the night, and shall pass the railway-bridge +to-morrow. The railway is all under water from here up to Tantah—eight +miles—and in many places higher up.</p> +<h3>November 14, 1863: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>November</i> 14, 1863.</p> +<p>Here I am at last in my old quarters at Thayer’s house, after +a tiresome negotiation with the Vice-Consul, who had taken possession +and invented the story of women on the ground-floor. I was a week +in Briggs’ damp house, and too ill to write. The morning +I arrived at Cairo I was seized with hæmorrhage, and had two days +of it; however, since then I am better. I was very foolish to +stay a fortnight in Alexandria.</p> +<p>The passage under the railway-bridge at Tantah (which is only opened +once in two days) was most exciting and pretty. Such a scramble +and dash of boats—two or three hundred at least. Old Zedan, +the steersman, slid under the noses of the big boats with my little +<i>Cangia</i> and through the gates before they were well open, and +we saw the rush and confusion behind us at our ease, and headed the +whole fleet for a few miles. Then we stuck, and Zedan raged; but +we got off in an hour and again overtook and passed all. And then +we saw the spectacle of devastation—whole villages gone, submerged +and melted, mud to mud, and the people with their animals encamped on +spits of sand or on the dykes in long rows of ragged makeshift tents, +while we sailed over where they had lived. Cotton rotting in all +directions and the dry tops crackling under the bows of the boat. +When we stopped to buy milk, the poor woman exclaimed: ‘Milk! +from where? Do you want it out of my breasts?’ However, +she took our saucepan and went to get some from another family. +No one refuses it if they have a drop left, for they all believe the +murrain to be a punishment for churlishness to strangers—by whom +committed no one can say. Nor would they fix a price, or take +more than the old rate. But here everything has doubled in price.</p> +<p>Never did a present give such pleasure as Mme. De Leo’s bracelet. +De Leo came quite overflowing with gratitude at my having remembered +such a trifle as his attending me and coming three times a day! +He thinks me looking better, and advises me to stay on here till I feel +it cold. Mr. Thayer’s underling has been doing Levantine +rogueries, selling the American protégé’s claims +to the Egyptian Government, and I witnessed a curious phase of Eastern +life. Omar, when he found him in <i>my</i> house, went and ordered +him out. I was ill in bed, and knew nothing till it was done, +and when I asked Omar how he came to do it, he told me to be civil to +him if I saw him as it was not for me to know what he was; that was +his (Omar’s) business. At the same time Mr. Thayer’s +servant sent him a telegram so insolent that it amounted to a kicking. +Such is the Nemesis for being a rogue here. The servants know +you, and let you feel it. I was quite ‘flabbergasted’ +at Omar, who is so reverential to me and to the Rosses, and who I fancied +trembled before every European, taking such a tone to a man in the position +of a ‘gentleman.’ It is a fresh proof of the feeling +of actual equality among men that lies at the bottom of such great inequality +of position. Hekekian Bey has seen a Turkish Pasha’s shins +kicked by his own servants, who were cognizant of his misdeeds. +Finally, on Thursday we got the keys of the house, and Omar came with +two <i>ferashes</i> and shovelled out the Levantine dirt, and scoured +and scrubbed; and on Friday afternoon (yesterday) we came in. +Zeyneb has been very good ever since she has been with us, she will +soon be a complete ‘dragowoman,’ for she is learning Arabic +from Omar and English from us fast. In Janet’s house she +only heard a sort of ‘lingua franca’ of Greek, Italian, +Nubian and English. She asked me ‘How piccolo bint?’ +(How’s the little girl?) a fine specimen of Alexandrian. +Ross is here, and will dine with me to-night before starting by an express +train which Ismail Pasha gives him.</p> +<p>On Thursday evening I rode to the Abbassieh, and met all the schoolboys +going home for their Friday. Such a pretty sight! The little +Turks on grand horses with velvet trappings and two or three sais running +before them, and the Arab boys fetched—some by proud fathers on +handsome donkeys, some by trusty servants on foot, some by poor mothers +astride on shabby donkeys and taking up their darlings before them, +some two and three on one donkey, and crowds on foot. Such a number +of lovely faces—all dressed in white European-cut clothes and +red tarbooshes.</p> +<p>Last night we had a wedding opposite. A pretty boy, about Maurice’s +size, or rather less, with a friend of his own size, dressed like him +in a scarlet robe and turban, on each side, and surrounded by men carrying +tapers and singing songs, and preceded by cressets flaring. He +stepped along like Agag, very slowly and mincingly, and looked very +shy and pretty. My poor Hassan (donkey-driver) is ill—I +fear very ill. His father came with the donkey for me, and kept +drawing his sleeve over his eyes and sighing so heavily. ‘<i>Yah +Hassan meskeen</i>! <i>yah Hassan ibn</i>!’ (Oh poor Hassan! oh +Hassan my son!); and then, in a resigned tone, ‘<i>Allah kereem</i>’ +(God is merciful). I will go and see him this morning, and have +a doctor to him ‘by force,’ as Omar says, if he is very +bad. There is something heart-rending in the patient, helpless +suffering of these people.</p> +<p><i>Sunday</i>.—Abu Hassan reported his son so much better that +I did not go after him, having several things to do, and Omar being +deep in cooking a <i>festin de Balthazar</i> because Ross was to dine +with me. The weather is delicious—much what we had at Bournemouth +in summer—but there is a great deal of sickness, and I fear there +will be more, from people burying dead cattle on their premises inside +the town. It costs 100 <i>gersh</i> to bury one outside the town. +All labour is rendered scarce, too, as well as food dear, and the streets +are not cleaned and water hard to get. My <i>sakka</i> comes very +irregularly, and makes quite a favour of supplying us with water. +All this must tell heavily on the poor. Hekekian’s wife +had seventy head of cattle on her farm—one wretched bullock is +left; and, of seven to water the house in Cairo, also one left, and +that expected to die. I wonder what ill-conditioned fellow of +a Moses is at the bottom of it. Hajjee Ali has just been here, +and offers me his tents if I like to go up to Thebes and not live in +a boat, so that I may not be dependent on getting a house there. +He is engaged by Lady Herbert of Lea, so will not go to Syria this year +and has all his tents to spare. I fancy I might be very comfortable +among the tombs of the Kings or in the valley of Assaseef with good +tents. It is never cold at all among the hills at Thebes—<i>au +contraire</i>. On the sunny side of the valley you are broiled +and stunned with heat in January, and in the shade it is heavenly. +How I do wish you could come too, how you would enjoy it! I shall +rather like the change from a boat life to a Bedawee one, with my own +sheep and chickens and horse about the tent, and a small following of +ragged retainers; moreover, it will be considerably cheaper, I think.</p> +<h3>November 21, 1863: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>November</i> 21, 1863.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I shall stay on here till it gets colder, and then go up the Nile +either in a steamer or a boat. The old father of my donkey-boy, +Hassan, gave me a fine illustration of Arab feeling towards women to-day. +I asked if Abd el-Kader was coming here, as I had heard; he did not +know, and asked me if he were not <i>Achul en-Benàt</i>, a brother +of girls. I prosaically said I did not know if he had sisters. +‘The Arabs, O lady, call that man a “brother of girls” +to whom God has given a clean heart to love all women as his sisters, +and strength and courage to fight for their protection.’ +Omar suggested a ‘thorough gentleman’ as the equivalent +of Abou Hassan’s title. Our European <i>galimatias</i> about +the ‘smiles of the fair,’ etc., look very mean beside ‘Achul +en Benàt,’ methinks. Moreover, they carry it into +common life. Omar was telling me of some little family tribulations, +showing that he is not a little henpecked. His wife wanted all +his money. I asked how much she had of her own, as I knew she +had property. ‘Oh, ma’am! I can’t speak +of that, shame for me if I ask what money she got.’ A man +married at Alexandria, and took home the daily provisions for the first +week; after that he neglected it for two days, and came home with a +lemon in his hand. He asked for some dinner, and his wife placed +the stool and the tray and the washing basin and napkin, and in the +tray the lemon cut in quarters. ‘Well, and the dinner?’ +‘Dinner! you want dinner? Where from? What man are +you to want women when you don’t keep them? I am going to +the Cadi to be divorced from you;’ and she did. The man +must provide all necessaries for his Hareem, and if she has money or +earns any she spends it in dress; if she makes him a skullcap or a handkerchief +he must pay her for her work. <i>Tout n’est pas roses</i> +for these Eastern tyrants, not to speak of the unbridled license of +tongue allowed to women and children. Zeyneb hectors Omar and +I cannot persuade him to check her. ‘How I say anything +to it, that one child?’ Of course, the children are insupportable, +and, I fancy, the women little better.</p> +<p>A poor neighbour of mine lost his little boy yesterday, and came +out in the streets, as usual, for sympathy. He stood under my +window leaning his head against the wall, and sobbing and crying till, +literally, his tears wetted the dust. He was too grieved to tear +off his turban or to lament in form, but clasped his hands and cried, +‘Yah weled, yah weled, yah weled’ (O my boy, my boy). +The bean-seller opposite shut his shop, the dyer took no notice but +smoked his pipe. Some people passed on, but many stopped and stood +round the poor man, saying nothing, but looking concerned. Two +were well-dressed Copts on handsome donkeys, who dismounted, and all +waited till he went home, when about twenty men accompanied him with +a respectful air. How strange it seems to us to go out into the +street and call on the passers-by to grieve with one! I was at +the house of Hekekian Bey the other day when he received a parcel from +his former slave, now the Sultan’s chief eunuch. It contained +a very fine photograph of the eunuch—whose face, though negro, +is very intelligent and of charming expression—a present of illustrated +English books, and some printed music composed by the Sultan, Abd el +Aziz, himself. <i>O tempera</i>! <i>O mores</i>! one was a waltz. +The very ugliest and scrubbiest of street dogs has adopted me—like +the Irishman who wrote to Lord Lansdowne that he had selected him as +his patron—and he guards the house and follows me in the street. +He is rewarded with scraps, and Sally cost me a new tin mug by letting +the dog drink out of the old one, which was used to scoop the water +from the jars, forgetting that Omar and Zeyneb could not drink after +the poor beast.</p> +<p><i>Monday</i>.—I went yesterday to the port of Cairo, Boulak, +to see Hassaneyn Effendi about boats. He was gone up the Nile, +and I sat with his wife—a very nice Turkish woman who speaks English +to perfection—and heard all sorts of curious things. I heard +the whole story of an unhappy marriage made by Leyla, my hostess’s +sister, and much Cairo gossip. Like all Eastern ladies that I +have seen she complains of indigestion, and said she knew she ought +to go out more and to walk, but custom <i>e contra il nostro decoro</i>.</p> +<p>Mr. Thayer will be back in Egypt on December 15, so I shall embark +about that time, as he may want his house here. It is now a little +fresh in the early morning, but like fine English summer weather.</p> +<p><i>Tuesday</i>.—Since I have been here my cough is nearly gone, +and I am better for having good food again. Omar manages to get +good mutton, and I have discovered that some of the Nile fish is excellent. +The <i>abyad</i>, six or eight feet long and very fat, is delicious, +and I am told there are still better; the eels are delicate and good +too. Maurice might hook an <i>abyad</i>, but how would he land +him? The worst is that everything is just double the price of +last year, as, of course, no beef can be eaten at all, and the draught +oxen being dead makes labour dear as well. The high Nile was a +small misfortune compared to the murrain. There is a legend about +it, of course. A certain Sheykh el-Beled (burgomaster) of some +place—not mentioned—lost his cattle, and being rich defied +God, said he did not care, and bought as many more; they died too, and +he continued impenitent and defiant, and bought on till he was ruined, +and now he is sinking into the earth bodily, though his friends dig +and dig without ceasing night and day. It is curious how like +the German legends the Arab ones are. All those about wasting +bread wantonly are almost identical. If a bit is dirty, Omar carefully +gives it to the dog; if clean, he keeps it in a drawer for making breadcrumbs +for cutlets; not a bit must fall on the floor. In other things +they are careless enough, but <i>das liebe Brod</i> is sacred—<i>vide</i> +Grimm’s <i>Deutsche Sagen</i>. I am constantly struck with +resemblances to German customs. A Fellah wedding is very like +the German <i>Bauern hochzeit</i> firing of guns and display of household +goods, only on a camel instead of a cart. I have been trying to +get a teacher of Arabic, but it is very hard to find one who knows any +European language, and the consular dragoman asks four dollars a lesson. +I must wait till I get to Thebes, where I think a certain young Said +can teach me. Meanwhile I am beginning to understand rather more +and to speak a very little. Please direct to me to Briggs and +Co. at Cairo; if I am gone, the letters will follow up the river.</p> +<h3>December 1, 1863: Mrs. Ross</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Ross</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>December</i> 1, 1863.</p> +<p>Dearest Janet,</p> +<p>I should much like to go with Thayer if his times and seasons will +suit mine; but I cannot wait indefinitely, still less come down the +river before the end of April. But most likely the Pasha will +give him a boat. It is getting cold here and I feel my throat +sore to-day. I went to see Hassan yesterday, he is much better, +but very weak and pale. It is such a nice family—old father, +mother, and sister, all well-bred and pleasing like Hassan himself. +He almost shrieked at hearing of your fall, and is most anxious to see +you when you come here. Zeyneb, after behaving very well for three +weeks, has turned quietly sullen and displays great religious intolerance. +It would seem that the Berberi men have put it into her head that we +are inferior beings, and she pretends not to be able to eat because +she thinks everything is pig. Omar’s eating the food does +not convince her. As she evidently does not like us I will offer +her to Mrs. Hekekian Bey, and if she does not do there, in a household +of black Mussulman slaves, they must pass her on to a Turkish house. +She is very clever and I am sorry, but to keep a sullen face about me +is more than I can endure, as I have shown her every possible kindness. +I think she despises Omar for his affection towards me. How much +easier it is to instil the bad part of religion than the good; it is +really a curious phenomenon in so young a child. She waits capitally +at table, and can do most things, but she won’t move if the fancy +takes her except when ordered, and spends her time on the terrace. +One thing is that the life is dull for a child, and I think she will +be happier in a larger, more bustling house. I don’t know +whether, after the fearful example of Mrs. B., I can venture to travel +up the Nile with such a <i>séducteur</i> as our dear Mr. Thayer. +What do you think? Will gray hairs on my side and <i>mutual</i> +bad lungs guarantee our international virtue; or will someone ask the +Pater when he means to divorce me? Would it be considered that +Yankeedoodle had ‘stuck a feather in his cap’ by leading +a British matron and grandmother astray?</p> +<h3>December 2, 1863: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>December</i> 2, 1863.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>It is beginning to be cold here, and I only await the results of +my inquiries about possible houses at Thebes to hire a boat and depart. +Yesterday I saw a camel go through the eye of a needle—<i>i.e</i>., +the low arched door of an enclosure; he must kneel and bow his head +to creep through—and thus the rich man must humble himself. +See how a false translation spoils a good metaphor, and turns a familiar +simile into a ferociously communist sentiment. I expect Henry +and Janet here in four or five days when her ancle allows her to travel. +If I get a house at Thebes, I will only hire a boat up and dismiss it, +and trust to Allah for my return. There are rumours of troubles +at Jeddah, and a sort of expectation of fighting somewhere next spring; +even here people are buying arms to a great extent, I think the gunsmiths’ +bazaar looks unusually lively. I do look forward to next November +and your coming here; I know you would donkey-ride all day in a state +of ecstasy. I never saw so good a servant as Omar and such a nice +creature, so pleasant and good. When I hear and see what other +people spend here in travelling and in living, and what bother they +have, I say: ‘May God favour Omar and his descendants.’</p> +<p>I stayed in bed yesterday for a cold, and my next-door neighbour, +a Coptic merchant, kept me awake all night by auditing his accounts +with his clerk. How would you like to chant your rows of figures? +He had just bought lots of cotton, and I had to get into my door on +Monday over a camel’s back, the street being filled with bales.</p> +<p>* * * * *</p> +<p>[The house at Thebes of which my mother speaks in the following letter +was built about 1815, over the ancient temple of Khem, by Mr. Salt, +English Consul-General in Egypt. He was an archæologist +and a student of hieroglyphics, and when Belzoni landed at Alexandria +was struck by his ability, and sent him up to Thebes to superintend +the removal of the great bust of Memnon, now in the British Museum. +Belzoni, I believe, lived for some time in Mr. Salt’s house, which +afterwards became the property of the French Government, and was known +as the <i>Maison de France</i>; it was pulled down in 1884 when the +great temple of Luxor was excavated by M. Maspero. My late friend +Miss A. B. Edwards wrote a description of his work in the <i>Illustrated +London News</i>, from which I give a few extracts:</p> +<blockquote><p>‘Squatters settled upon the temple like a swarm +of mason bees; and the extent of the mischief they perpetrated in the +course of centuries may be gathered from the fact that they raised the +level of the surrounding soil to such a height that the obelisks, the +colossi, and the entrance pylon were buried to a depth of 40 feet, while +inside the building the level of the native village was 50 feet above +the original pavement. Seven months ago the first court contained +not only the local mosque, but a labyrinthine maze of mud structures, +numbering some thirty dwellings, and eighty strawsheds, besides yards, +stables, and pigeon-towers, the whole being intersected by innumerable +lanes and passages. Two large mansions—real mansions, spacious +and, in Arab fashion, luxurious,—blocked the great Colonnade of +Horembebi; while the second court, and all the open spaces and ruined +parts of the upper end of the Temple, were encumbered by sheepfolds, +goat-yards, poultry-yards, donkey-sheds, clusters of mud huts, refuse-heaps, +and piles of broken pottery. Upon the roof of the portico there +stood a large, rambling, ruinous old house, the property of the French +Government, and known as the “Maison de France” . . . +Within its walls the illustrious Champollion and his ally Rosellini +lived and worked together in 1829, during part of their long sojourn +at Thebes. Here the naval officers sent out by the French in 1831 +to remove the obelisk which now stands in the Place de la Concorde took +up their temporary quarters. And here, most interesting to English +readers, Lady Duff Gordon lingered through some of her last winters, +and wrote most of her delightful “Letters from Egypt.” +A little balcony with a broken veranda and a bit of lattice-work parapet, +juts out above some mud walls at the end of the building. Upon +that balcony she was wont to sit in the cool of the evening, watching +the boats upon the river and the magical effect of the after-glow upon +the Libyan mountains opposite. All these buildings—“Maison +de France,” stores, yards, etc. . . . are all swept away.’]</p> +</blockquote> +<h3>December 17, 1863: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>December</i> 17, 1863.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>At last I hope I shall get off in a few days. I have had one +delay and bother after another, chiefly caused by relying on the fine +speeches of Mr. D. On applying straight to the French Consulate +at Alexandria, Janet got me the loan of the <i>Maison de France</i> +at Thebes at once. M. Mounier, the agent to Halim Pasha, is going +up to Esneh, and will let me travel in the steamer which is to tow his +dahabieh. It will be dirty, but will cost little and take me out +of this dreadful cold weather in five or six days.</p> +<p><i>December</i> 22.—I wrote the above five days ago, since +when I have had to turn out of Thayer’s house, as his new Vice-Consul +wanted it, and am back at Briggs’. M. Mounier is waiting +in frantic impatience to set off, and I ditto; but Ismail Pasha keeps +him from day to day. The worry of depending on anyone in the East +is beyond belief. Tell your mother that Lady Herbert is gone up +the river; her son was much the better for Cairo. I saw Pietro, +her courier, who is stupendously grand, he offered Omar £8 a month +to go with them; you may imagine how Pietro despised his heathenish +ignorance in preferring to stay with me for £3. It quite +confirmed him in his contempt for the Arabs.</p> +<p>You would have laughed to hear me buying a carpet. I saw an +old broker with one on his shoulder in the bazaar, and asked the price, +‘eight napoleons’—then it was unfolded and spread +in the street, to the great inconvenience of passers-by, just in front +of a coffee-shop. I look at it superciliously, and say, ‘Three +hundred piastres, O uncle,’ the poor old broker cries out in despair +to the men sitting outside the coffee-shop: ‘O Muslims, hear that +and look at this excellent carpet. Three hundred piastres! +By the faith, it is worth two thousand!’ But the men take +my part and one mildly says: ‘I wonder that an old man as thou +art should tell us that this lady, who is a traveller and a person of +experience, values it at three hundred—thinkest thou we will give +thee more?’ Then another suggests that if the lady will +consent to give four napoleons, he had better take them, and that settles +it. Everybody gives an opinion here, and the price is fixed by +a sort of improvised jury.</p> +<p><i>Christmas Day</i>.—At last my departure is fixed. +I embark to-morrow afternoon at Boulak, and we sail—or steam, +rather—on Sunday morning early, and expect to reach Thebes in +eight days. I heard a curious illustration of Arab manners to-day. +I met Hassan, the janissary of the American Consulate, a very respectable, +good man. He told me he had married another wife since last year—I +asked what for. It was the widow of his brother who had always +lived with him in the same house, and who died leaving two boys. +She is neither young nor handsome, but he considered it his duty to +provide for her and the children, and not to let her marry a stranger. +So you see that polygamy is not always sensual indulgence, and a man +may practise greater self-sacrifice so than by talking sentiment about +deceased wives’ sisters. Hassan has £3 a month, and +two wives come expensive. I said, laughing, to Omar as we left +him, that I did not think the two wives sounded very comfortable. +‘Oh no! not comfortable at all for the man, but he take care of +the women, that’s what is proper—that is the good Mussulman.’</p> +<p>I shall have the company of a Turkish Effendi on my voyage—a +Commissioner of Inland Revenue, in fact, going to look after the tax-gatherers +in the Saeed. I wonder whether he will be civil. Sally is +gone with some English servants out to the Virgin’s tree, the +great picnic frolic of Cairene Christians, and, indeed, of Muslimeen +also at some seasons. Omar is gone to a <i>Khatmeh</i>—a +reading of the Koran—at Hassan the donkey-boy’s house. +I was asked, but am afraid of the night air. A good deal of religious +celebration goes on now, the middle of the month of Regeb, six weeks +before Ramadan. I rather dread Ramadan as Omar is sure to be faint +and ill, and everybody else cross during the first five days or so; +then their stomachs get into training. The new passenger-steamers +have been promised ever since the 6th, and will not now go till after +the races—6th or 7th of next month. Fancy the Cairo races! +It is growing dreadfully Cockney here, I must go to Timbuctoo: and we +are to have a railway to Mecca, and take return tickets for the <i>Haj</i> +from all parts of the world.</p> +<h3>December 27, 1863: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Boulak, on board a river steam-boat</span>,<br /> +<i>December</i> 27, 1863.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>After infinite delays and worries, we are at last on board, and shall +sail to-morrow morning. After all was comfortably settled, Ismail +Pasha sent for <i>all</i> the steamers up to Rhoda, near Minieh, and +at the same time ordered a Turkish General to come up instantly somehow. +So Latif Pasha, the head of the steamers, had to turn me out of the +best cabin, and if I had not come myself, and taken rather forcible +possession of the forecastle cabin, the servants of the Turkish General +would not have allowed Omar to embark the baggage. He had been +waiting all the morning in despair on the bank; but at four I arrived, +and ordered the <i>hammals</i> to carry the goods into the forecabin, +and walked on board myself, where the Arab captain pantomimically placed +me in his right eye and on the top of his head. Once installed, +this has become a hareem, and I may defy the Turkish Effendi with success. +I have got a good-sized cabin with good, clean divans round three sides +for Sally and myself. Omar will sleep on deck and cook where he +can. A poor Turkish lady is to inhabit a sort of dusthole by the +side of my cabin; if she seems decent, I will entertain her hospitably. +There is no furniture of any sort but the divan, and we cook our own +food, bring our own candles, jugs, basins, beds and everything. +If Sally and I were not such complete Arabs we should think it very +miserable; but as things stand this year we say, <i>Alhamdulillah</i> +it is no worse! Luckily it is a very warm night, so we can make +our arrangements unchilled. There is no door to the cabin, so +we nail up an old plaid, and, as no one ever looks into a hareem, it +is quite enough. All on board are Arabs—captain, engineer, +and men. An English Sitt is a novelty, and the captain is unhappy +that things are not <i>alla Franca</i> for me. We are to tow three +dahabiehs—M. Mounier’s, one belonging to the envoy from +the Sultan of Darfour, and another. Three steamers were to have +done it, but the Pasha had a fancy for all the boats, and so our poor +little craft must do her best. Only fancy the Queen ordering all +the river steamers up to Windsor!</p> +<p>At Minieh the Turkish General leaves us, and we shall have the boat +to ourselves, so the captain has just been down to tell me. I +should like to go with the gentlemen from Darfor, as you may suppose. +See what strange combinations of people float on old Nile. Two +Englishwomen, one French (Mme. Mounier), one Frenchman, Turks, Arabs, +Negroes, Circassians, and men from Darfor, all in one party; perhaps +the third boat contains some other strange element. The Turks +are from Constantinople and can’t speak Arabic, and make faces +at the muddy river water, which, indeed, I would rather have filtered.</p> +<p>I hope to have letters from home to-morrow morning. Hassan, +my faithful donkey-boy, will go to the post as soon as it is open and +bring them down to Boulak. Darling Rainie sent me a card with +a cock robin for Christmas; how terribly I miss her dear little face +and talk! I am pretty well now; I only feel rather weaker than +before and more easily tired. I send you a kind letter of Mme. +Tastu’s, who got her son to lend me the house at Thebes.</p> +<h3>January 3, 1864: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">On board the steamer, near Siout</span>,<br /> +<i>Sunday</i>, <i>January</i> 3, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>We left Cairo last Sunday morning, and a wonderfully queer company +we were. I had been promised all the steamer to myself, but owing +to Ismail Pasha’s caprices our little steamer had to do the work +of three—<i>i.e</i>., to carry passengers, to tow M. Mounier’s +dahabieh, and to tow the oldest, dirtiest, queerest Nubian boat, in +which the young son of the Sultan of Darfoor and the Sultan’s +envoy, a handsome black of Dongola (not a negro), had visited Ismail +Pasha. The best cabin was taken by a sulky old one-eyed Turkish +Pasha, so I had the fore-cabin, luckily a large one, where I slept with +Sally on one divan and I on the other, and Omar at my feet. He +tried sleeping on deck, but the Pasha’s Arnouts were too bad company, +and the captain begged me to ‘cover my face’ and let my +servant sleep at my feet. Besides, there was a poor old asthmatic +Turkish Effendi going to collect the taxes, and a lot of women in the +engine-room, and children also. It would have been insupportable +but for the hearty politeness of the Arab captain, a regular ‘old +salt,’ and owing to his attention and care it was only very amusing.</p> +<p>At Benisouef, the first town above Cairo (seventy miles), we found +no coals: the Pasha had been up and taken them all. So we kicked +our heels on the bank all day, with the prospect of doing so for a week. +The captain brought H.R.H. of Darfoor to visit me, and to beg me to +make him hear reason about the delay, as I, being English, must know +that a steamer could not go without coals. H.R.H. was a pretty +imperious little nigger about eleven or twelve, dressed in a yellow +silk kuftan and a scarlet burnous, who cut the good old captain short +by saying, ‘Why, she is a woman; she can’t talk to me.’ +‘Wallah! wallah! what a way to talk to English Hareem!’ +shrieked the captain, who was about to lose his temper; but I had a +happy idea and produced a box of French sweetmeats, which altered the +young Prince’s views at once. I asked if he had brothers. +‘Who can count them? they are like mice.’ He said +that the Pasha had given him only a few presents, and was evidently +not pleased. Some of his suite are the most formidable-looking +wild beasts in human shape I ever beheld—bulldogs and wild-boars +black as ink, red-eyed, and, ye gods! such jowls and throats and teeth!—others +like monkeys, with arms down to their knees.</p> +<p>The Illyrian Arnouts on board our boat are revoltingly white—like +fish or drowned people, no pink in the tallowy skin at all. There +were Greeks also who left us at Minieh (second large town), and the +old Pasha left this morning at Rodah. The captain at once ordered +all my goods into the cabin he had left and turned out the Turkish Effendi, +who wanted to stay and sleep with us. No impropriety! he said +he was an old man and sick, and my company would be agreeable to him; +then he said he was ashamed before the people to be turned out by an +English woman. So I was civil and begged him to pass the day and +to dine with me, and that set all right, and now after dinner he has +gone off quite pleasantly to the fore-cabin and left me here. +I have a stern-cabin, a saloon and an anteroom here, so we are comfortable +enough—only the fleas! Never till now did I know what fleas +could be; even Omar groaned and tossed in his sleep, and Sally and I +woke every ten minutes. Perhaps this cabin may be better, some +fleas may have landed in the beds of the Turks. I send a dish +from my table every day henceforth to the captain; as I take the place +of a Pasha it is part of my dignity to do so; and as I occupy the kitchen +and burn the ship’s coals, I may as well let the captain dine +a little at my expense. In the day I go up and sit in his cabin +on deck, and we talk as well as we can without an interpreter. +The old fellow is sixty-seven, but does not look more than forty-five. +He has just the air and manner of a seafaring-man with us, and has been +wrecked four times—the last in the Black Sea during the Crimean +War, when he was taken prisoner by the Russians and sent to Moscow for +three years, until the peace. He has a charming boy of eleven +with him, and he tells me he has twelve children in all, but only one +wife, and is as strict a monogamist as Dr. Primrose, for he told me +he should not marry again if she died, nor he believed would she. +He is surprised at my gray hair.</p> +<p>There are a good many Copts on board too, of a rather low class and +not pleasant. The Christian gentlemen are very pleasant, but the +low are <i>low</i> indeed compared to the Muslimeen, and one gets a +feeling of dirtiness about them to see them eat all among the coals, +and then squat there and pull out their beads to pray without washing +their hands even. It does look nasty when compared to the Muslim +coming up clean washed, and standing erect and manly—looking to +his prayers; besides they are coarse in their manners and conversation +and have not the Arab respect for women. I only speak of the common +people—not of educated Copts. The best fun was to hear the +Greeks (one of whom spoke English) abusing the Copts—rogues, heretics, +schismatics from the Greek Church, ignorant, rapacious, cunning, impudent, +etc., etc. In short, they narrated the whole fable about their +own sweet selves. I am quite surprised to see how well these men +manage their work. The boat is quite as clean as an English boat +as crowded could be kept, and the engine in beautiful order. The +head-engineer, Achmet Effendi, and indeed all the crew and captain too, +wear English clothes and use the universal ‘All right, stop her—fooreh +(full) speed, half speed—turn her head,’ etc. I was +delighted to hear ‘All right—go ahead—<i>el-Fathah</i>’ +in one breath. Here we always say the <i>Fathah</i> (first chapter +of the Koran, nearly identical with the Lord’s Prayer) when starting +on a journey, concluding a bargain, etc. The combination was very +quaint. There are rats and fleas on board, but neither bugs nor +cockroaches. Already the climate has changed, the air is sensibly +drier and clearer and the weather much warmer, and we are not yet at +Siout. I remarked last year that the climate changed most at Keneh, +forty miles below Thebes. The banks are terribly broken and washed +away by the inundation, and the Nile far higher even now than it was +six weeks earlier last year.</p> +<p>At Benisouef, which used to be the great cattle place, not a buffalo +was left, and we could not get a drop of milk. But since we left +Minieh we see them again, and I hear the disease is not spreading up +the river. Omar told me that the poor people at Benisouef were +complaining of the drought and prospect of scarcity, as they could no +longer water the land for want of oxen. I paid ten napoleons passage-money, +and shall give four or five more as backsheesh, as I have given a good +deal of trouble with all my luggage, beddings, furniture, provisions +for four months, etc., and the boat’s people have been more than +civil, really kind and attentive to us; but a bad dahabieh would have +cost forty, so I am greatly the gainer. Nothing can exceed the +muddle, uncertainty and carelessness of the ‘administration’ +at Cairo: no coals at the depots, boats announced to sail and dawdling +on three weeks, no order and no care for anybody’s convenience +but the Pasha’s own. But the subordinates on board the boats +do their work perfectly well. We go only half as quickly as we +ought because we have two very heavy dahabiehs in tow instead of one; +but no time is lost, as long as the light lasts we go, and start again +as soon as the moon rises. The people on board have promoted me +in rank—and call me ‘el-Ameereh,’ an obsolete Arab +title which the engineer thinks is the equivalent of ‘Ladysheep,’ +as he calls it. ‘Sitti,’ he said, was the same as +‘Meessees.’ I don’t know how he acquired his +ideas on the subject of English precedence.</p> +<p>Omar has just come in with coffee, and begs me to give his best salaam +to his big master and his little master and lady, and not to forget +to tell them he is their servant and my memlook (slave) ‘from +one hand to the other’ (the whole body). If we stay at all +at Siout, I will ride a donkey up to Wassef’s house, and leave +this letter for him to send down with his next opportunity to Cairo. +At Keneh we must try to find time to buy two filters and some gullehs +(water-coolers); they are made there. At Thebes nothing can be +got.</p> +<p>How I do wish you were here to enjoy all the new and strange sights! +I am sure it would amuse you, and as the fleas don’t bite you +there would be no drawback. Janet sent me a photo of dear little +Rainie; it is ugly, but very like the ‘zuweyeh’ (little +one). Give her no end of kisses, and thank her for the cock robin, +which pleased me quite as much as she thought it would.</p> +<h3>January 5, 1864: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<i>Tuesday</i>, <i>January</i> 5, 1864.</p> +<p>We left Siout this afternoon. The captain had announced that +we should start at ten o’clock, so I did not go into the town, +but sent Omar to buy food and give my letter and best salaam to Wassef. +But the men of Darfoor all went off declaring that they would stop, +promising to cut off the captain’s head if he went without them. +Hassan Effendi, the Turk, was furious, and threatened to telegraph his +complaints to Cairo if we did not go directly, and the poor captain +was in a sad quandary. He appealed to me, peaceably sitting on +the trunk of a palm-tree with some poor <i>fellaheen</i> (of whom more +anon). I uttered the longest sentence I could compose in Arabic, +to the effect that he was captain, and that while on the boat we were +all bound to obey him. ‘<i>Mashallah</i>! one English Hareem +is worth more than ten men for sense; these Ingeleez have only one word +both for themselves and for other people: <i>doghree</i>—<i>doghree</i> +(right is right); this Ameereh is ready to obey like a memlook, and +when she has to command—whew!’—with a most expressive +toss back of the head. The bank was crowded with poor <i>fellaheen</i> +who had been taken for soldiers and sent to await the Pasha’s +arrival at Girgeh; three weeks they lay there, and were then sent down +to Soohaj (the Pasha wanted to see them himself and pick out the men +he liked); eight days more at Soohaj, then to Siout eight days more, +and meanwhile Ismail Pasha has gone back to Cairo and the poor souls +may wait indefinitely, for no one will venture to remind the Pasha of +their trifling existence. <i>Wallah</i>, <i>wallah</i>!</p> +<p>While I was walking on the bank with M. and Mme. Mounier, a person +came up and saluted them whose appearance puzzled me. Don’t +call me a Persian when I tell you it was an eccentric Bedawee young +lady. She was eighteen or twenty at most, dressed like a young +man, but small and feminine and rather pretty, except that one eye was +blind. Her dress was handsome, and she had women’s jewels, +diamonds, etc., and a European watch and chain. Her manner was +excellent, quite <i>ungenirt</i>, and not the least impudent or swaggering, +and I was told—indeed, I could hear—that her language was +beautiful, a thing much esteemed among Arabs. She is a virgin +and fond of travelling and of men’s society, being very clever, +so she has her dromedary and goes about quite alone. No one seemed +surprised, no one stared, and when I asked if it was <i>proper</i>, +our captain was surprised. ‘Why not? if she does not wish +to marry, she can go alone; if she does, she can marry—what harm? +She is a virgin and free.’ She went to breakfast with the +Mouniers on their boat (Mme. M. is Egyptian born, and both speak Arabic +perfectly), and the young lady had many things to ask them, she said. +She expressed her opinions pretty freely as far as I could understand +her. Mme. Mounier had heard of her before, and said she was much +respected and admired. M. Mounier had heard that she was a spy +of the Pasha’s, but the people on board the boat here say that +the truth was that she went before Said Pasha herself to complain of +some tyrannical Moodir who ground and imprisoned the <i>fellaheen</i>—a +bold thing for a girl to do. To me she seems, anyhow, far the +most curious thing I have yet seen.</p> +<p>The weather is already much warmer, it is nine in the evening, we +are steaming along and I sit with the cabin window open. My cough +is, of course, a great deal better. <i>Inshallah</i>! Above +Keneh (about another 150 miles) it will go away. To-day, for the +first time, I pulled my cloak over my head in the sun, it was so stinging +hot—quite delicious, and it is the 5th of January. <i>Poveri +voi</i> in the cold! Our captain was prisoner for three years +at Moscow and at Bakshi Serai, and declares he never saw the sun at +all—hard lines for an Egyptian. Do you remember the cigarettes +you bought for me at Eaux Bonnes? Well, I gave them to the old +Turkish Effendi, who is dreadfully asthmatic, and he is enchanted; of +course five other people came to be cured directly. The rhubarb +pills are a real comfort to travellers, for they can’t do much +harm, and inspire great confidence.</p> +<p>Luckily we left all the fleas behind in the fore-cabin, for the benefit +of the poor old Turk, who, I hear, suffers severely. The divans +were all brand-new, and the fleas came in the cotton stuffing, for there +are no live things of any sort in the rest of the boat.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Girgeh</span>,<br /> +<i>January</i> 9, 1864.</p> +<p>We have put in here for the night. To-day we took on board +three convicts in chains, two bound for Fazogloo, one for calumny and +perjury, and one for manslaughter. Hard labour for life in that +climate will soon dispose of them. The third is a petty thief +from Keneh who has been a year in chains in the Custom-house of Alexandria, +and is now being taken back to be shown in his own place in his chains. +The <i>causes célèbres</i> of this country would be curious +reading; they do their crimes so differently to us. If I can get +hold of anyone who can relate a few cases well, I’ll write them +down. Omar has told me a few, but he may not know the details +quite exactly.</p> +<p>I made further inquiries about the Bedawee lady, who is older than +she looks, for she has travelled constantly for ten years. She +is rich and much respected, and received in all the best houses, where +she sits with the men all day and sleeps in the hareem. She has +been in the interior of Africa and to Mecca, speaks Turkish, and M. +Mounier says he found her extremely agreeable, full of interesting information +about all the countries she had visited. As soon as I can talk +I must try and find her out; she likes the company of Europeans.</p> +<p>Here is a contribution to folk-lore, new even to Lane I think. +When the coffee-seller lights his stove in the morning, he makes two +cups of coffee of the best and nicely sugared, and pours them out all +over the stove, saying, ‘God bless or favour Sheykh Shadhilee +and his descendants.’ The blessing on the saint who invented +coffee of course I knew, and often utter, but the libation is new to +me. You see the ancient religion crops up even through the severe +faith of Islam. If I could describe all the details of an Arab, +and still more of a Coptic, wedding, you would think I was relating +the mysteries of Isis. At one house I saw the bride’s father +looking pale and anxious, and Omar said, ‘I think he wants to +hold his stomach with both hands till the women tell him if his daughter +makes his face white.’ It was such a good phrase for the +sinking at heart of anxiety. It certainly seems more reasonable +that a woman’s misconduct should blacken her father’s face +than her husband’s. There are a good many things about hareem +here which I am barbarian enough to think extremely good and rational. +An old Turk of Cairo, who had been in Europe, was talking to an Englishman +a short time ago, who politely chaffed him about Mussulman license. +The venerable Muslim replied, ‘Pray, how many women have you, +who are quite young, seen (that is the Eastern phrase) in your whole +life?’ The Englishman could not count—of course not. +‘Well, young man, I am old, and was married at twelve, and I have +seen in all my life seven women; four are dead, and three are happy +and comfortable in my house. <i>Where are all yours</i>?’ +Hassaneyn Effendi heard the conversation, which passed in French, and +was amused at the question.</p> +<p>I find that the criminal convicted of calumny accused, together with +twenty-nine others not in custody, the Sheykh-el-Beled of his place +of murdering his servant, and produced a basket full of bones as proof, +but the Sheykh-el-Beled produced the living man, and his detractor gets +hard labour for life. The proceeding is characteristic of the +childish <i>ruses</i> of this country. I inquired whether the +thief who was dragged in chains through the streets would be able to +find work, and was told, ‘Oh, certainly; is he not a poor man? +For the sake of God everyone will be ready to help him.’ +An absolute uncertainty of justice naturally leads to this result. +Our captain was quite shocked to hear that in my country we did not +like to employ a returned convict.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>January</i> 13, 1864.</p> +<p>We spent all the afternoon of Saturday at Keneh, where I dined with +the English Consul, a worthy old Arab, who also invited our captain, +and we all sat round his copper tray on the floor and ate with our fingers, +the captain, who sat next me, picking out the best bits and feeding +me and Sally with them. After dinner the French Consul, a Copt, +one Jesus Buktor, sent to invite me to a fantasia at his house, where +I found the Mouniers, the Moudir, and some other Turks, and a disagreeable +Italian, who stared at me as if I had been young and pretty, and put +Omar into a great fury. I was glad to see the dancing-girls, but +I liked old Seyyid Achmet’s patriarchal ways much better than +the tone of the Frenchified Copt. At first I thought the dancing +queer and dull. One girl was very handsome, but cold and uninteresting; +one who sang was also very pretty and engaging, and a dear little thing. +But the dancing was contortions, more or less graceful, <i>very</i> +wonderful as gymnastic feats, and no more. But the captain called +out to one Latifeh, an ugly, clumsy-looking wench, to show the Sitt +what she could do. And then it was revealed to me. The ugly +girl started on her feet and became the ‘serpent of old Nile,’—the +head, shoulders and arms eagerly bent forward, waist in, and haunches +advanced on the bent knees—the posture of a cobra about to spring. +I could not call it <i>voluptuous</i> any more than Racine’s <i>Phèdre</i>. +It is <i>Venus toute entière à sa proie attachée</i>, +and to me seemed tragic. It is far more realistic than the ‘fandango,’ +and far less coquettish, because the thing represented is <i>au grande +sérieux</i>, not travestied, <i>gazé</i>, or played with; +and like all such things, the Arab men don’t think it the least +improper. Of course the girls don’t commit any indecorums +before European women, except the dance itself. Seyyid Achmet +would have given me a fantasia, but he feared I might have men with +me, and he had had a great annoyance with two Englishmen who wanted +to make the girls dance naked, which they objected to, and he had to +turn them out of his house after hospitably entertaining them.</p> +<p>Our procession home to the boat was very droll. Mme. Mounier +could not ride an Arab saddle, so I lent her mine and <i>enfourché’d</i> +my donkey, and away we went with men running with ‘meshhaals’ +(fire-baskets on long poles) and lanterns, and the captain shouting +out’ Full speed!’ and such English phrases all the way—like +a regular old salt as he is. We got here last night, and this +morning Mustapha A’gha and the Nazir came down to conduct me up +to my palace. I have such a big rambling house all over the top +of the temple of Khem. How I wish I had you and the chicks to +fill it! We had about twenty <i>fellahs</i> to clean the dust +of <i>three years</i>’ accumulation, and my room looks quite handsome +with carpets and a divan. Mustapha’s little girl found her +way here when she heard I was come, and it seemed quite pleasant to +have her playing on the carpet with a dolly and some sugar-plums, and +making a feast for dolly on a saucer, arranging the sugar-plums Arab +fashion. She was monstrously pleased with Rainie’s picture +and kissed it. Such a quiet, nice little brown tot, and curiously +like Rainie and walnut-juice.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/ill101b.jpg"> +<img alt="Luxor, by Edward Lear, showing Lady Duff Gordon’s house, now destroy" src="images/ill101s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>The view all round my house is magnificent on every side, over the +Nile in front facing north-west, and over a splendid range of green +and distant orange buff hills to the south-east, where I have a spacious +covered terrace. It is rough and dusty to the extreme, but will +be very pleasant. Mustapha came in just now to offer me the loan +of a horse, and to ask me to go to the mosque in a few nights to see +the illumination in honour of a great Sheykh, a son of Sidi Hosseyn +or Hassan. I asked whether my presence might not offend any Muslimeen, +and he would not hear of such a thing. The sun set while he was +here, and he asked if I objected to his praying in my presence, and +went through his four <i>rekahs</i> very comfortably on my carpet. +My next-door neighbour (across the courtyard all filled with antiquities) +is a nice little Copt who looks like an antique statue himself. +I shall <i>voisiner</i> with his family. He sent me coffee as +soon as I arrived, and came to help. I am invited to El-Moutaneh, +a few hours up the river, to visit the Mouniers, and to Keneh to visit +Seyyid Achmet, and also the head of the merchants there who settled +the price of a carpet for me in the bazaar, and seemed to like me. +He was just one of those handsome, high-bred, elderly merchants with +whom a story always begins in the Arabian Nights. When I can talk +I will go and see a real Arab hareem. A very nice English couple, +a man and his wife, gave me breakfast in their boat, and turned out +to be business connections of Ross’s, of the name of Arrowsmith; +they were going to Assouan, and I shall see them on their way back. +I asked Mustapha about the Arab young lady, and he spoke very highly +of her, and is to let me know if she comes here and to offer hospitality +from me: he did not know her name—she is called ‘el <i>Hággeh</i>’ +(the Pilgrimess).</p> +<p><i>Thursday</i>.—Now I am settled in my Theban palace, it seems +more and more beautiful, and I am quite melancholy that you cannot be +here to enjoy it. The house is very large and has good thick walls, +the comfort of which we feel to-day for it blows a hurricane; but indoors +it is not at all cold. I have glass windows and doors to some +of the rooms. It is a lovely dwelling. Two funny little +owls as big as my fist live in the wall under my window, and come up +and peep in, walking on tip-toe, and looking inquisitive like the owls +in the hieroglyphics; and a splendid horus (the sacred hawk) frequents +my lofty balcony. Another of my contemplar gods I sacrilegiously +killed last night, a whip snake. Omar is rather in consternation +for fear it should be ‘the snake of the house,’ for Islam +has not dethroned the <i>Dii lares et tutelares</i>.</p> +<p>I have been ‘sapping’ at the <i>Alif Bey</i> (A B C) +to-day, under the direction of Sheykh Yussuf, a graceful, sweet-looking +young man, with a dark brown face and such fine manners, in his <i>fellah</i> +dress—a coarse brown woollen shirt, a <i>libdeh</i>, or felt skull-cap, +and a common red shawl round his head and shoulders; writing the wrong +way is very hard work. Some men came to mend the staircase, which +had fallen in and which consists of huge solid blocks of stone. +One crushed his thumb and I had to operate on it. It is extraordinary +how these people bear pain; he never winced in the least, and went off +thanking God and the lady quite cheerfully. Till to-day the weather +has been quite heavenly; last night I sat with my window open, it was +so warm. If only I had you all here! How Rainie would play +in the temple, Maurice fish in the Nile, and you go about with your +spectacles on your nose. I think you would discard Frangi dress +and take to a brown shirt and a <i>libdeh</i>, and soon be as brown +as any <i>fellah</i>. It was so curious to see Sheykh Yussuf blush +from shyness when he came in first; it shows quite as much in the coffee-brown +Arab skin as in the fairest European—quite unlike the much lighter-coloured +mulatto or Malay, who never change colour at all. A photographer +who is living here showed me photographs done high up the White Nile. +One negro girl is so splendid that I must get him to do me a copy to +send you. She is not perfect like the Nubians, but so superbly +strong and majestic. If I can get hold of a handsome <i>fellahah</i> +here, I’ll get her photographed to show you in Europe what a woman’s +breast can be, for I never knew it before I came here—it is the +most beautiful thing in the world. The dancing-girl I saw moved +her breasts by some extraordinary muscular effort, first one and then +the other; they were just like pomegranates and gloriously independent +of stays or any support.</p> +<h3>January 20, 1864: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<i>Wednesday</i>, <i>January</i> 20, 1864.</p> +<p>I received your welcome letters of December 15 and 25 on Monday, +to my great joy, but was much grieved to hear of Thomas’s death, +and still more so to hear from Janet that Thackeray and Mrs. Alison +were dead. She died the morning I left Cairo, so her last act +almost was to send sweetmeats to the boat after me on the evening before. +Poor dear soul her sweetness and patience were very touching. +We have had a week of piercing winds, and yesterday I stayed in bed, +to the great surprise of Mustapha’s little girl who came to see +me. To-day was beautiful again, and I mounted old Mustapha’s +cob pony and jogged over his farm with him, and lunched on delicious +sour cream and <i>fateereh</i> at a neighbouring village, to the great +delight of the <i>fellaheen</i>. It was more Biblical than ever; +the people were all relations of Mustapha’s, and to see Sidi Omar, +the head of the household, and the ‘young men coming in from the +field,’ and the ‘flocks and herds and camels and asses,’ +was like a beautiful dream. All these people are of high blood, +and a sort of ‘roll of Battle’ is kept here for the genealogies +of the noble Arabs who came in with Amr—the first Arab conqueror +and lieutenant of Omar. Not one of these brown men, who do not +own a second shirt, would give his brown daughter to the greatest Turkish +Pasha. This country <i>noblesse</i> is more interesting to me +by far than the town people, though Omar, who is quite a Cockney, and +piques himself on being ‘delicate,’ turns up his nose at +their beggarly pride, as Londoners used to do at bare-legged Highlanders. +The air of perfect equality—except as to the respect due to the +head of the clan—with which the villagers treated Mustapha, and +which he fully returned, made it all seem so very gentlemanly. +They are not so dazzled by a little show, and far more manly than the +Cairenes. I am on visiting terms with all the ‘county families’ +resident in Luxor already. The Názir (magistrate) is a +very nice person, and my Sheykh Yussuf, who is of the highest blood +(being descended from Abu-l-Hajjaj himself), is quite charming. +There is an intelligent little German here as Austrian Consul, who draws +nicely. I went into his house, and was startled by hearing a pretty +Arab boy, his servant, inquire, ‘<i>Soll ich den Kaffee bringen</i>?’ +What next? They are all mad to learn languages, and Mustapha begs +me and Sally to teach his little girl Zeyneb English.</p> +<p><i>Friday</i>, 22<i>nd</i>.—Yesterday I rode over to Karnac, +with Mustapha’s <i>sais</i> running by my side. Glorious +hot sun and delicious air. To hear the <i>sais</i> chatter away, +his tongue running as fast as his feet, made me deeply envious of his +lungs. Mustapha joined me, and pressed me to go to visit the Sheykh’s +tomb for the benefit of my health, as he and Sheykh Yussuf wished to +say a <i>Fathah</i> for me; but I must not drink wine at dinner. +I made a little difficulty on the score of difference of religion, but +Sheykh Yussuf, who came up, said that he presumed I worshipped God, +and not stones, and that sincere prayers were good anywhere. Clearly +the bigotry would have been on my side if I had refused any longer. +So in the evening I went with Mustapha. It was a very curious +sight, the little dome illuminated with as much oil as the mosque could +afford, and the tombs of Abu-l-Hajjaj and his three sons. A magnificent +old man, like Father Abraham himself, dressed in white, sat on a carpet +at the foot of the tomb; he was the head of the family of Abu-l-Hajjaj. +He made me sit by, and was extremely polite. Then came the Názir, +the Kadee, a Turk travelling on Government business, and a few other +gentlemen, who all sat down round us after kissing the hand of the old +Sheykh. Everyone talked; in fact it was a <i>soirée</i> +for the entertainment of the dead Sheykh. A party of men sat at +the further end of the place, with their faces to the Kibleh, and played +on a <i>taraboukeh</i> (sort of small drum stretched on earthenware +which gives a peculiar sound), a tambourine without bells, and little +tinkling cymbals fitting on thumb and fingers (crotales), and chanted +songs in honour of Mohammed and verses from the Psalms of David. +Every now and then one of our party left off talking, and prayed a little +or counted his beads. The old Sheykh sent for coffee, and gave +me the first cup—a wonderful concession. At last the Názir +proposed a <i>Fathah</i> for me, which the whole group round me repeated +aloud, and then each said to me, ‘Our Lord God bless and give +thee health and peace, to thee and thy family, and take thee back safe +to thy master and thy children,’ one adding <i>Ameen</i> and giving +the salaam with the hand. I returned it, and said, ‘Our +Lord reward thee and all the people of kindness to strangers,’ +which was considered a very proper answer. After that we went +away, and the worthy Názir walked home with me to take a pipe +and a glass of sherbet, and enjoy a talk about his wife and eight children, +who are all in Foum-el-Bachr’, except two boys at school in Cairo. +Government appointments are so precarious that it is not worth while +to move them up here, as the expense would be too heavy on a salary +of £15 a month, with the chance of recall any day. In Cairo +or Lower Egypt it would be quite impossible for a Christian to enter +a Sheykh’s tomb at all—above all on his birthday festival +and on the night of Friday.</p> +<p><i>Friday</i>, <i>January</i> 29.—I have been too unwell to +write all this week, but will finish this to-day to send off by Lady +Herbert’s boat. The last week has been very cold here, the +thermometer at 59° and 60°, with a nipping wind and bright sun. +I was obliged to keep my bed for three or four days, as of course a +<i>palazzo</i> without doors or windows to speak of was very trying, +though far better than a boat. Yesterday and to-day are much better, +not really much warmer, but a different air.</p> +<p>The <i>moolid</i> (festival) of the Sheykh terminated last Saturday +with a procession, in which the new cover of his tomb, and the ancient +sacred boat, were carried on men’s shoulders. It all seemed +to have walked out of the royal tombs, only dusty and shabby instead +of gorgeous. These festivals of the dead are such as Herodotus +alludes to as held in honour of ‘Him whose name he dares not mention—Him +who sleeps in Philæ,’ only the name is changed and the mummy +is absent.</p> +<p>For a fortnight everyone who had a horse and could ride came and +‘made fantasia’ every afternoon for two hours before sunset; +and very pretty it was. The people here show their good blood +in their riding. On the last three days all strangers were entertained +with bread and cooked meat at the expense of the Luxor people; every +house killed a sheep and baked bread. As I could not do that for +want of servants enough, I sent 100 piastres (12s) to the servants of +Abu-l-Hajjaj at the mosque to pay for the oil burnt at the tomb, etc. +I was not well and in bed, but I hear that my gift gave immense satisfaction, +and that I was again well prayed for. The Coptic Bishop came to +see me, but he is a tipsy old monk and an impudent beggar. He +sent for tea as he was ill, so I went to see him, and perceived that +his disorder was arrakee. He has a very nice black slave, a Christian +(Abyssinian, I think), who is a friend of Omar’s, and who sent +Omar a handsome dinner all ready cooked; among other things a chicken +stuffed with green wheat was excellent. Omar constantly gets dinners +sent him, a lot of bread, some dates and cooked fowls or pigeons, and +<i>fateereh</i> with honey, all tied up hot in a cloth. I gave +an old fellow a pill and dose some days ago, but his <i>dura ilia</i> +took no notice, and he came for more, and got castor-oil. I have +not seen him since, but his employer, <i>fellah</i> Omar, sent me a +lot of delicious butter in return. I think it shows great intelligence +in these people, how none of them will any longer consult an Arab <i>hakeem</i> +if they can get a European to physic them. They now ask directly +whether the Government doctors have been to Europe to learn <i>Hekmeh</i>, +and if not they don’t trust them—for poor ‘savages’ +and ‘heathens’ <i>ce n’est pas si bête</i>. +I had to interrupt my lessons from illness, but Sheykh Yussuf came again +last night. I have mastered <i>Abba shedda o mus beteen</i>—<i>ibbi +shedda o heftedeen</i>, etc. Oh dear, what must poor Arab children +suffer in learning ABC! It is a terrible alphabet, and the <i>shekel</i> +(points) are <i>désespérants</i>; but now I stick for +want of a dictionary.</p> +<p>Mr. Arrowsmith kindly gave me Miss Martineau’s book, which +I have begun. It is true as far as it goes, but there is the usual +defect—the people are not real people, only part of the scenery +to her, as to most Europeans. You may conceive how much we are +naturalized when I tell you that I have received a serious offer of +marriage for Sally. Mustapha A’gha has requested me to ‘give +her to him’ for his eldest son Seyyid, a nice lad of nineteen +or twenty at most. As Mustapha is the richest and most considerable +person here, it shows that the Arabs draw no unfavourable conclusions +as to our morals from the freedom of our manners. He said of course +she would keep her own religion and her own customs. Seyyid is +still in Alexandria, so it will be time to refuse when he returns. +I said she was too old, but they think that no objection at all. +She will have to say that her father would not allow it, for of course +a handsome offer deserves a civil refusal. Sally’s proposals +would be quite an ethnological study; Mustapha asked what I should require +as dowry for her. Fancy Sally as Hareem of the Sheykh-el-Beled +of Luxor!</p> +<p>I am so charmed with my house that I begin seriously to contemplate +staying here all the time. Cairo is so dear now, and so many dead +cattle are buried there, that I think I should do better in this place. +There is a huge hall, so large and cold now as to be uninhabitable, +which in summer would be glorious. My dear old captain of steamer +XII. would bring me up coffee and candles, and if I ‘sap’ +and learn to talk to people, I shall have plenty of company.</p> +<p>The cattle disease has not extended above Minieh to any degree, and +here there has not been a case. <i>Alhamdulillah</i>! Food +is very good here, rather less than half Cairo prices even now; in summer +it will be half that. Mustapha urges me to stay, and proposes +a picnic of a few days over in the tombs with his Hareem as a diversion. +I have got a photo, for a stereoscope, which I send you, of my two beloved, +lovely palm-trees on the river-bank just above and looking over Philæ.</p> +<p>Hitherto my right side has been the bad one, but now one side is +uneasy and the other impossible to lie on. It does not make one +sleep pleasantly, and the loss of my good, sound sleep tries me, and +so I don’t seem well. We shall see what hot weather will +do; if that fails I will give up the contest, and come home to see as +much as I shall have time for of you and my chicks.</p> +<h3>February 7, 1864: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<i>Sunday</i>, <i>February</i> 7, 1864</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>We have had our winter pretty sharp for three weeks, and everybody +has had violent colds and coughs—the Arabs, I mean.</p> +<p>I have been a good deal ailing, but have escaped any violent cold +altogether, and now the thermometer is up to 64°, and it feels very +pleasant. In the sun it is always very hot, but that does not +prevent the air from being keen, and chapping lips and noses, and even +hands; it is curious how a temperature, which would be summer in England, +makes one shiver at Thebes—<i>Alhamdulillah</i>! it is over now.</p> +<p>My poor Sheykh Yussuf is in great distress about his brother, also +a young Sheykh (<i>i.e</i>., one learned in theology and competent to +preach in the mosque). Sheykh Mohammed is come home from studying +in ‘El-Azhar’ at Cairo—I fear to die. I went +with Sheykh Yussuf, at his desire, to see if I could help him, and found +him gasping for breath and very, very ill. I gave him a little +soothing medicine, and put mustard plasters on him, and as it relieved +him, I went again and repeated them. All the family and a lot +of neighbours crowded in to look on. There he lay in a dark little +den with bare mud walls, worse off, to our ideas, than any pauper; but +these people do not feel the want of comforts, and one learns to think +it quite natural to sit with perfect gentlemen in places inferior to +our cattle-sheds. I pulled some blankets up against the wall, +and put my arm behind Sheykh Mohammed’s back to make him rest +while the poultices were on him, whereupon he laid his green turban +on my shoulder, and presently held up his delicate brown face for a +kiss like an affectionate child. As I kissed him, a very pious +old moollah said <i>Bismillah</i> (In the name of God) with an approving +nod, and Sheykh Mohammed’s old father, a splendid old man in a +green turban, thanked me with effusion, and prayed that my children +might always find help and kindness. I suppose if I confessed +to kissing a ‘dirty Arab’ in a ‘hovel’ the English +travellers would execrate me; but it shows how much there is in ‘Mussulman +bigotry, unconquerable hatred, etc.,’ for this family are Seyyids +(descendents of the Prophet) and very pious. Sheykh Yussuf does +not even smoke, and he preaches on Fridays. You would love these +Saeedees, they are such thorough gentlemen. I rode over to the +village a few days ago to see a farmer named Omar. Of course I +had to eat, and the people were enchanted at my going alone, as they +are used to see the English armed and guarded. Sidi Omar, however, +insisted on accompanying me home, which is the civil thing here. +He piled a whole stack of green fodder on his little nimble donkey, +and hoisted himself atop of it without saddle or bridle (the fodder +was for Mustapha A’gha), and we trotted home across the beautiful +green barley-fields, to the amazement of some European young men out +shooting. We did look a curious pair, certainly, with my English +saddle and bridle, habit, hat and feather, on horseback, and Sidi Omar’s +brown shirt, brown legs and white turban, guiding his donkey with his +chibouque. We were laughing very merrily, too, over my blundering +Arabic.</p> +<p>Young Heathcote and Strutt called here, but were hurrying on up the +river. I shall see more of them when they come down. Young +Strutt is so like his mother I knew him in the street. I would +like to give him a fantasia, but it is not proper for a woman to send +for the dancing-girls, and as I am the friend of the Maōhn (police +magistrate), the Kadee, and the respectable people here, I cannot do +what is indecent in their eyes. It is quite enough that they approve +my unveiled face, and my associating with men; that is ‘my custom,’ +and they think no harm of it.</p> +<p>To-morrow or next day Ramadan begins at the first sight of the new +moon. It is a great nuisance, because everybody is cross. +Omar did not keep it last year, but this year he will, and if he spoils +my dinners, who can blame him? There was a wedding close by here +last night, and about ten o’clock all the women passed under my +windows with crys of joy ‘ez-zaghareet’ down to the river. +I find, on inquiry, that in Upper Egypt, as soon as the bridegroom has +‘taken the face’ of his bride, the women take her down to +‘see the Nile.’ They have not yet forgotten that the +old god is the giver of increase, it seems.</p> +<p>I have been reading Miss Martineau’s book; the descriptions +are excellent, but she evidently knew and cared nothing about the people, +and had the feeling of most English people here, that the difference +of manners is a sort of impassable gulf, the truth being that their +feelings and passions are just like our own. It is curious that +all the old books of travels that I have read mention the natives of +strange countries in a far more natural tone, and with far more attempt +to discriminate character, than modern ones, <i>e.g</i>., Niebuhr’s +Travels here and in Arabia, Cook’s Voyages, and many others. +<i>Have</i> we grown so <i>very</i> civilized since a hundred years +that outlandish people seem like mere puppets, and not like real human +beings? Miss M.’s bigotry against Copts and Greeks is droll +enough, compared to her very proper reverence for ‘Him who sleeps +in Philæ,’ and her attack upon hareems outrageous; she implies +that they are brothels. I must admit that I have not seen a Turkish +hareem, and she apparently saw no other, and yet she fancies the morals +of Turkey to be superior to those of Egypt. It is not possible +for a woman to explain all the limitations to which ordinary people +do subject themselves. Great men I know nothing of; but women +can and do, without blame, sue their husbands-in-law for the full ‘payment +of debt,’ and demand a divorce if they please in default. +Very often a man marries a second wife out of duty to provide for a +brother’s widow and children, or the like. Of course licentious +men act loosely as elsewhere. <i>Kulloolum Beni Adam</i> (we are +all sons of Adam), as Sheykh Yussuf says constantly, ‘bad-bad +and good-good’; and modern travellers show strange ignorance in +talking of foreign natives <i>in the lump</i>, as they nearly all do.</p> +<p><i>Monday</i>.—I have just heard that poor Sheykh Mohammed +died yesterday, and was, as usual, buried at once. I had not been +well for a few days, and Sheykh Yussuf took care that I should not know +of his brother’s death. He went to Mustapha A’gha, +and told him not to tell anyone in my house till I was better, because +he knew ‘what was in my stomach towards his family,’ and +feared I should be made worse by the news. And how often I have +been advised not to meddle with sick Arabs, because they are sure to +suspect a Christian of poisoning those who die! I do grieve for +the graceful, handsome young creature and his old father. Omar +was vexed at not knowing of his death, because he would have liked to +help to carry him to the grave.</p> +<p>I have at last learned the alphabet in Arabic, and can write it quite +tidily, but now I am in a fix for want of a dictionary, and have written +to Hekekian Bey to buy me one in Cairo. Sheykh Yussuf knows not +a word of English, and Omar can’t read or write, and has no notion +of grammar or of <i>word for word</i> interpretation, and it is very +slow work. When I walk through the court of the mosque I give +the customary coppers to the little boys who are spelling away loudly +under the arcade, <i>Abba sheddeh o nusbeyteen</i>, <i>Ibbi sheddeh +o heftedeen</i>, etc., with a keen sympathy with their difficulties +and well-smudged tin slates. An additional evil is that the Arabic +books printed in England, and at English presses here, require a 40-horse +power microscope to distinguish a letter. The ciphering is like +ours, but with other figures, and I felt very stupid when I discovered +how I had reckoned Arab fashion from right to left all my life and never +observed the fact. However, they ‘cast down’ a column +of figures from top to bottom.</p> +<p>I am just called away by some poor men who want me to speak to the +English travellers about shooting their pigeons. It is very thoughtless, +but it is in great measure the fault of the servants and dragomans who +think they must not venture to tell their masters that pigeons are private +property. I have a great mind to put a notice on the wall of my +house about it. Here, where there are never less than eight or +ten boats lying for full three months, the loss to the <i>fellaheen</i> +is serious, and our Consul Mustapha A’gha is afraid to say anything. +I have given my neighbours permission to call the pigeons mine, as they +roost in flocks on my roof, and to go out and say that the Sitt objects +to her poultry being shot, especially as I have had them shot off my +balcony as they sat there.</p> +<p>I got a note from M. Mounier yesterday, inviting me to go and stay +at El-Moutaneh, Halim Pasha’s great estate, near Edfoo, and offering +to send his dahabieh for me. I certainly will go as soon as the +weather is decidedly hot. It is now very warm and pleasant. +If I find Thebes too hot as summer advances I must drop down and return +to Cairo, or try Suez, which I hear is excellent in summer—bracing +desert air. But it is very tempting to stay here—a splendid +cool house, food extremely cheap; about £1 a week for three of +us for fish, bread, butter, meat, milk, eggs and vegetables; all grocery, +of course, I brought with me; no trouble, rest and civil neighbours. +I feel very disinclined to move unless I am baked out, and it takes +a good deal to bake me. The only fear is the Khamaseen wind. +I do not feel very well. I don’t ail anything in particular; +blood-spitting frequent, but very slight; much less cough; but I am +so weak and good for nothing. I seldom feel able to go out or +do more than sit in the balcony on one side or other of the house. +I have no donkey here, the hired ones are so very bad and so dear; but +I have written Mounier to try and get me one at El-Moutaneh and send +it down in one of Halim Pasha’s corn-boats. There is no +comfort like a donkey always ready. If I have to send for Mustapha’s +horse, I feel lazy and fancy it is too much trouble unless I can go +just when I want.</p> +<p>I have received a letter from Alexandria of January 8. What +dreadful weather! We felt the ghost of it here in our three weeks +of cold. Sometimes I feel as if I must go back to you all <i>coûte +qui coûte</i>, but I know it would be no use to try it in the +summer. I long for more news of you and my chicks.</p> +<h3>February 8, 1864: February 8, 1864</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Ross</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>Tuesday</i>, <i>February</i> 8, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Child,</p> +<p>I got your letter No. 3 about a week ago, and two others before it. +I have been very lazy in writing, for it has been very cold (for Thebes), +and I have been very seedy—no severe attack, but no strength at +all. The last three or four days the weather has been warm, and +I am beginning to feel better. I send this to Cairo by a clever, +pleasant Mme. de Beaulaincourt, a daughter of Maréchal Castellane, +who is here in one of the Pasha’s steamers. She will call +on you when she goes to Alexandria. I have been learning to write +Arabic, and know my letters—no trifle, I assure you. My +Sheykh is a perfect darling—the most graceful, high-bred young +creature, and a Seyyid. These Saeedees are much nicer than the +Lower Egypt people. They have good Arab blood in their veins, +keep pedigrees, and are more manly and independent, and more liberal +in religion.</p> +<p>Sheykh Yussuf took me into the tomb of his ancestor, Sheykh Abul +Hajjaj, the great saint here, and all the company said a Fathah for +my health. It was on the night of Friday, and during the moolid +of the Sheykh. Omar was surprised at the proceeding, and a little +afraid the dead Sheykh might be offended. My great friend is the +Maōhn (police magistrate) here—a very kind, good man, much +liked, I hear, by all except the Kadee, who was displeased at his giving +the stick to a Mussulman for some wrong to a Copt. I am beginning +to stammer out a little Arabic, but find it horribly difficult. +The plurals are bewildering and the verbs quite heart-breaking. +I have no books, which makes learning very slow work. I have written +to Hekekian Bey to buy me a dictionary.</p> +<p>The house here is delightful—rather cold now, but will be perfect +in hot weather—so airy and cheerful. I think I shall stay +on here all the time the expense is nil, and it is very comfortable. +I have a friend in a farm in a neighbouring village, and am much amused +at seeing country life. It cannot be rougher, as regards material +comforts, in New Zealand or Central Africa, but there is no barbarism +or lack of refinement in the manners of the people. M. Mounier +has invited me to go and stay with them at El-Moutaneh, and offers to +send his dahabieh for me. When it gets really hot I shall like +the trip very much.</p> +<p>Pray, when you see Mme. Tastu, say civil things for me, and tell +her how much I like the house. I think it wonderful that Omar +cooked the dinner without being cross. I am sure I should swear +if I had to cook for a heretic in Ramadan.</p> +<h3>February 12, 1864: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>February</i> 12, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>We are in Ramadan now, and Omar really enjoys a good opportunity +of ‘making his soul.’ He fasts and washes vigorously, +prays his five times a day, goes to mosque on Fridays, and is quite +merry over it, and ready to cook infidels’ dinners with exemplary +good-humour. It is a great merit in Muslims that they are not +at all grumpy over their piety. The weather has set in since five +or six days quite like paradise. I sit on my lofty balcony and +drink the sweet northerly breeze, and look at the glorious mountain +opposite, and think if only you and the chicks were here it would be +‘the best o’ life.’ The beauty of Egypt grows +on one, and I think it far more lovely this year than I did last. +My great friend the Maōhn (he is <i>not</i> the Nazir, who is a +fat little pig-eyed, jolly Turk) lives in a house which also has a superb +view in another direction, and I often go and sit ‘on the bench’—<i>i.e</i>., +the <i>mastabah</i> in front of his house—and do what little talk +I can and see the people come with their grievances. I don’t +understand much of what goes on, as the <i>patois</i> is broad and doubles +the difficulty, or I would send you a Theban police report; but the +Maōhn is very pleasant in his manner to them, and they don’t +seem frightened. We have appointed a very small boy our <i>bowàb</i>, +or porter—or, rather, he has appointed himself—and his assumption +of dignity is quite delicious. He has provided himself with a +huge staff, and he behaves like the most tremendous janissary. +He is about Rainie’s size, as sharp as a needle, and possesses +the remains of a brown shirt and a ragged kitchen duster as turban. +I am very fond of little Achmet, and like to see him doing <i>tableaux +vivants</i> from Murillo with a plate of broken victuals. The +children of this place have become so insufferable about <i>backsheesh</i> +that I have complained to the Maōhn, and he will assemble a committee +of parents and enforce better manners. It is only here and just +where the English go. When I ride into the little villages I never +hear the word, but am always offered milk to drink. I have taken +it two or three times and not offered to pay, and the people always +seem quite pleased.</p> +<p>Yesterday Sheykh Yussuf came again, the first time since his brother’s +death; he was evidently deeply affected, but spoke in the usual way, +‘It is the will of God, we must all die,’ etc. I wish +you could see Sheykh Yussuf. I think he is the sweetest creature +in look and manner I ever beheld—so refined and so simple, and +with the animal grace of a gazelle. A high-bred Arab is as graceful +as an Indian, but quite without the feline <i>Geschmeidigkeit</i> or +the look of dissimulation; the eye is as clear and frank as a child’s. +Mr. Ruchl, the Austrian Consul here, who knows Egypt and Arabia well, +tells me that he thinks many of them quite as good as they look, and +said of Sheykh Yussuf, <i>Er ist so gemüthlich</i>. There +is a German here deciphering hieroglyphics, Herr Dümmichen, a very +agreeable man, but he has gone across the river to live at el-Kurneh. +He has been through Ethiopia in search of temples and inscriptions. +I am to go over and visit him, and see some of the tombs again in his +company, which I shall enjoy, as a good interpreter is sadly wanted +in those mysterious regions.</p> +<p>My chest is wonderfully better these last six or seven days. +It is quite clear that downright heat is what does me good. Moreover, +I have just heard from M. Mounier that a good donkey is <i>en route</i> +in a boat from El-Moutaneh—he will cost me between £4 and +£5 and will enable me to be about far more than I can by merely +borrowing Mustapha’s horse, about which I have scruples as he +lends it to other lady travellers. Little Achmet will be my sais +as well as my door-keeper, I suppose. I wish you would speak to +Layard in behalf of Mustapha A’gha. He has acted as English +Consul here for something like thirty years, and he really is the slave +of the travellers. He gives them dinners, mounts them, and does +all the disagreeable business of wrangling with the reis and dragomans +for them, makes himself a postmaster, takes care of their letters and +sends them out to the boats, and does all manner of services for them, +and lends his house for the infidels to pray in on Sundays when a clergyman +is here. For this he has no remuneration at all, except such presents +as the English see fit to make him, and I have seen enough to know that +they are neither large nor always gracefully given. The old fellow +at Keneh who has nothing to do gets regular pay, and I think Mustapha +ought to have something; he is now old and rather infirm, and has to +keep a clerk to help him; and at least, his expenses should be covered. +Please say this to Layard from me as my message to him. Don’t +forget it, please, for Mustapha is a really kind friend to me at all +times and in all ways.</p> +<p><i>February</i> 14th.—Yesterday we had a dust-storm off the +desert. It made my head heavy and made me feel languid, but did +not affect my chest at all. To-day is a soft gray day; there was +a little thunder this morning and a few, very few, drops of rain—hardly +enough for even Herodotus to consider portentous. My donkey came +down last night, and I tried him to-day, and he is very satisfactory +though alarmingly small, as the real Egyptian donkey always is; the +big ones are from the Hejaz. But it is wonderful how the little +creatures run along under one as easy as possible, and they have no +will of their own. I rode mine out to Karnac and back, and he +did not seem to think me at all heavy. When they are overworked +and overgalloped they become bad on the legs and easily fall, and all +those for hire are quite stumped up, poor beasts—they are so willing +and docile that everyone overdrives them.</p> +<h3>February 19, 1864: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>February</i> 19, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I have only time for a few lines to go down by Mr. Strutt and Heathcote’s +boat to Cairo. They are very good specimens and quite recognised +as ‘belonging to the higher people,’ because they ‘do +not make themselves big.’ I received your letter of January +21 with little darling Rainie’s three days ago.</p> +<p>I am better now that the weather is fine again. We had a whole +day’s rain (which Herodotus says is a portent here) and a hurricane +from the south worthy of the Cape. I thought we should have been +buried under the drifting sand. To-day is again heavenly. +I saw Abd-el-Azeez, the chemist in Cairo; he seemed a very good fellow, +and was a pupil of my old friend M. Chrevreul, and highly recommended +by him. Here I am out of all European ideas. The Sheykh-el-Arab +(of the Ababdeh tribe), who has a sort of town house here, has invited +me out into the desert to the black tents, and I intend to pay a visit +with old Mustapha A’gha. There is a Roman well in his yard +with a ghoul in it. I can’t get the story from Mustapha, +who is ashamed of such superstitions, but I’ll find it out. +We had a fantasia at Mustapha’s for young Strutt and Co., and +a very good dancing-girl. Some dear old prosy English people made +me laugh so. The lady wondered how the women here could wear clothes +‘so different from English females—poor things!’ but +they were not <i>malveillants</i>, only pitying and wonderstruck—nothing +astonished them so much as my salutations with Seleem Effendi, the Maōhn.</p> +<p>I begin to feel the time before me to be away from you all very long +indeed, but I do think my best chance is a long spell of real heat. +I have got through this winter without once catching cold at all to +signify, and now the fine weather is come. I am writing in Arabic +from Sheykh Yussuf’s dictation the dear old story of the barber’s +brother with the basket of glass. The Arabs are so diverted at +hearing that we all know the <i>Alf Leyleh o Leyleh</i>, the ‘Thousand +Nights and a Night.’ The want of a dictionary with a teacher +knowing no word of English is terrible. I don’t know how +I learn at all. The post is pretty quick up to here. I got +your letter within three weeks, you see, but I get no newspapers; the +post is all on foot and can’t carry anything so heavy. One +of my men of last year, Asgalani the steersman, has just been to see +me; he says his journey was happier last year.</p> +<p>I hear that Phillips is coming to Cairo, and have written to him +there to invite him up here to paint these handsome Saeedees. +He could get up in a steamer as I did through Hassaneyn Effendi for +a trifle. I wish you <i>could</i> come, but the heat here which +gives me life would be quite <i>impossible</i> to you. The thermometer +in the cold antechamber now is 67° where no sun ever comes, and +the blaze of the sun is prodigious.</p> +<h3>February 26, 1864: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>February</i> 26, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I have just received your letter of the 3rd inst., and am glad to +get such good tidings. You would be amused to see Omar bring me +a letter and sit down on the floor till I tell him the family news, +and then <i>Alhamdulillah</i>, we are so pleased, and he goes off to +his pots and pans again. Lord and Lady Spencer are here, and his +sister, in two boats. The English ‘Milord,’ extinct +on the Continent, has revived in Egypt, and is greatly reverenced and +usually much liked. ‘These high English have mercy in their +stomachs,’ said one of my last year’s sailors who came to +kiss my hand—a pleasing fact in natural history! <i>Fee +wahed Lord</i>, was little ragged Achmet’s announcement of Lord +Spencer—‘Here’s a Lord.’ They are very +pleasant people. I heard from Janet to-day of <i>ice</i> at Cairo +and at Shoubra, and famine prices. I cannot attempt Cairo with +meat at 1s. 3d. a pound, and will e’en stay here and grill at +Thebes. Marry-come-up with your Thebes and savagery! What +if we <i>do</i> wear ragged brown shirts? ‘’Tis manners +makyth man,’ and we defy you to show better breeding.</p> +<p>We are now in the full enjoyment of summer weather; there has been +no cold for fully a fortnight, and I am getting better every day now. +My cough has quite subsided, and the pain in the chest much diminished; +if the heat does not overpower me I feel sure it will be very healing +to my lungs. I sit out on my glorious balcony and drink the air +from early morning till noon, when the sun comes upon it and drives +me under cover. The thermometer has stood at 64° for a fortnight +or three weeks, rising sometimes to 67°, but people in the boats +tell me it is still cold at night on the river. Up here, only +a stone’s-throw from it, it is warm all night. I fear the +loss of cattle has suspended irrigation to a fearful extent, and that +the harvests of Lower Egypt of all kinds will be sadly scanty. +The disease has not spread above Minieh, or very slightly; but, of course, +cattle will rise in price here also. Already food is getting dearer +here; meat is 4½ piastres—7d.—the <i>rötl</i> +(a fraction less than a pound), and bread has risen considerably—I +should say corn, for no bakers exist here. I pay a woman to grind +and bake my wheat which I buy, and delicious bread it is. It is +impossible to say how exactly like the early parts of the Bible every +act of life is here, and how totally new it seems when one reads it +here. Old Jacob’s speech to Pharaoh really made me laugh +(don’t be shocked), because it is so exactly what a fellah says +to a Pasha: ‘Few and evil have been the days,’ etc. (Jacob +being a most prosperous man); but it is manners to say all that, and +I feel quite kindly to Jacob, whom I used to think ungrateful and discontented; +and when I go to Sidi Omar’s farm, does he not say, ‘Take +now fine meal and bake cakes quickly,’ and wants to kill a kid? +<i>Fateereh</i> with plenty of butter is what the ‘three men’ +who came to Abraham ate; and the way that Abraham’s chief memlook, +acting as Vakeel, manages Isaac’s marriage with Rebekah! +All the vulgarized associations with Puritanism and abominable little +‘Scripture tales and pictures’ peel off here, and the inimitably +truthful representation of life and character—not a flattering +one certainly—comes out, and it feels like Homer. Joseph’s +tears and his love for the brother born of the <i>same mother</i> is +so perfect. Only one sees what a bad inferior race the Beni Israel +were compared to the Beni Ishmael or to the Egyptians. Leviticus +and Deuteronomy are so very heathenish compared to the law of the Koran, +or to the early days of Abraham. Verily the ancient Jews were +a foul nation, judging by the police regulations needful for them. +Please don’t make these remarks public, or I shall be burnt with +Stanley and Colenso (unless I suffer Sheykh Yussuf to propose me El-Islam). +He and M. de Rougé were here last evening, and we had an Arabic +<i>soirée</i>. M. de Rougé speaks admirably, quite +like an Alim, and it was charming to see Sheykh Yussuf’s pretty +look of grateful pleasure at finding himself treated like a gentleman +and a scholar by two such eminent Europeans; for I (as a woman) am quite +as surprising as even M. de Rougé’s knowledge of hieroglyphics +and Arabic <i>Fosseeha</i>. It is very interesting to see something +of Arabs who have read and have the ‘gentleman’ ideas. +His brother, the Imam, has lost his wife; he was married twenty-two +years, and won’t hear of taking another. I was struck with +the sympathy he expressed with the English Sultana, as all the uneducated +people say, ‘Why doesn’t she marry again?’ It +is curious how refinement brings out the same feelings under all ‘dispensations.’ +I apologized to Yussuf for inadvertently returning the <i>Salaam aleykoum</i> +(Peace be with thee), which he said to Omar, and which I, as an unbeliever, +could not accept. He coloured crimson, touched my hand and kissed +his own, quite distressed lest the distinction might wound me. +When I think of a young parsonic prig at home I shudder at the difference. +But Yussuf is superstitious; he told me how someone down the river cured +his cattle with water poured over a <i>Mushaf</i> (a copy of the Koran), +and has hinted at writing out a chapter for me to wear as a <i>hegab</i> +(an amulet for my health). He is interested in the antiquities +and in M. de Rougé’s work, and is quite up to the connection +between Ancient Egypt and the books of Moses, exaggerating the importance +of <i>Seyidna Moussa</i>, of course.</p> +<p>If I go down to Cairo again I will get letters to some of the Alim +there from Abd-el-Waris, the Imam here, and I shall see what no European +but Lane has seen. I think things have altered since his day, +and that men of that class would be less inaccessible than they were +then; and then a woman who is old (Yussuf guessed me at sixty) and educated +does not shock, and does interest them. All the Europeans here +are traders, and only speak the vulgarest language, and don’t +care to know Arab gentlemen; if they see anything above their servants +it is only Turks, or Arab merchants at times. Don’t fancy +that I can speak at all decently yet, but I understand a good deal, +and stammer out a little.</p> +<h3>March 1, 1864: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>March</i> 1, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I think I shall have an opportunity of sending letters in a few days +by a fast steamer, so I will begin one on the chance and send it by +post if the steamer is delayed long. The glory of the climate +now is beyond description, and I feel better every day. I go out +early—at seven or eight o’clock—on my tiny black donkey, +and come in to breakfast about ten, and go out again at four.</p> +<p>I want to photograph Yussuf for you. The feelings and prejudices +and ideas of a cultivated Arab, as I get at them little by little, are +curious beyond compare. It won’t do to generalize from one +man, of course, but even one gives some very new ideas. The most +striking thing is the sweetness and delicacy of feeling—the horror +of hurting anyone (this must be individual, of course: it is too good +to be general). I apologized to him two days ago for inadvertently +answering the <i>Salaam aleykoum</i>, which he, of course, said to Omar +on coming in. Yesterday evening he walked in and startled me by +a <i>Salaam aleykee</i> addressed to me; he had evidently been thinking +it over whether he ought to say it to me, and come to the conclusion +that it was not wrong. ‘Surely it is well for all the creatures +of God to speak peace (<i>Salaam</i>) to each other,’ said he. +Now, no uneducated Muslim would have arrived at such a conclusion. +Omar would pray, work, lie, do anything for me—sacrifice money +even; but I doubt whether he <i>could</i> utter <i>Salaam aleykoum</i> +to any but a Muslim. I answered as I felt: ‘Peace, oh my +brother, and God bless thee!’ It was almost as if a Catholic +priest had felt impelled by charity to offer the communion to a heretic. +I observed that the story of the barber was new to him, and asked if +he did not know the ‘Thousand and One Nights.’ No; +he studied only things of religion, no light amusements were proper +for an Alim (elder of religion); <i>we</i> Europeans did not know that, +of course, as <i>our</i> religion was to enjoy ourselves; but <i>he</i> +must not make merry with diversions, or music, or droll stories. +(See the mutual ignorance of all ascetics!) He has a little girl +of six or seven, and teaches her to write and read; no one else, he +believes, thinks of such a thing out of Cairo; there many of the daughters +of the Alim learn—those who desire it. His wife died two +years ago, and six months ago he married again a wife of twelve years +old! (Sheykh Yussuf is thirty he tells me; he looks twenty-two +or twenty-three.) What a stepmother and what a wife! He +can repeat the whole Koran without a book, it takes twelve hours to +do it. Has read the Towrát (old Testament) and the el-Aangeel +(Gospels), of course, every Alim reads them. ‘The words +of Seyyidna Eesa are the true faith, but Christians have altered and +corrupted their meaning. So we Muslims believe. We are all +the children of God.’ I ask if Muslims call themselves so, +or only the slaves of God. ‘’Tis all one, children +or slaves. Does not a good man care for both tenderly alike?’ +(Pray observe the Oriental feeling here. <i>Slave</i> is a term +of affection, not contempt; and remember the Centurion’s ‘<i>servant</i> +(slave) whom he loved.’) He had heard from Fodl Pasha how +a cow was cured of the prevailing disease in Lower Egypt by water weighed +against a <i>Mushaf</i> (copy of the Koran), and had no doubt it was +true, Fodl Pasha had tried it. Yet he thinks the Arab doctors +no use at all who use verses of the Koran.</p> +<p>M. de Rougé, the great <i>Egyptologue</i>, came here one evening; +he speaks Arabic perfectly, and delighted Sheykh Yussuf, who was much +interested in the translations of the hieroglyphics and anxious to know +if he had found anything about <i>Moussa</i> (Moses) or <i>Yussuf</i> +(Joseph). He looked pleased and grateful to be treated like a +‘gentleman and scholar’ by such an Alim as M. de Rougé +and such a Sheykhah as myself. As he acts as clerk to Mustapha, +our consular agent, and wears a shabby old brown shirt, or gown, and +speaks no English, I dare say he not seldom encounters great slights +(from sheer ignorance). He produced a bit of old Cufic MS. and +consulted M. de R. as to its meaning—a pretty little bit of flattery +in an Arab Alim to a Frenchman, to which the latter was not insensible, +I saw. In answer to the invariable questions about all my family +I once told him my father had been a great Alim of the Law, and that +my mother had got ready his written books and put some lectures in order +to be printed. He was amazed—first that I had a mother, +as he told me he thought I was fifty or sixty, and immensely delighted +at the idea. ‘God has favoured your family with understanding +and knowledge; I wish I could kiss the <i>Sheykhah</i> your mother’s +hand. May God favour her!’ Maurice’s portrait +(as usual) he admired fervently, and said one saw his good qualities +in his face—a compliment I could have fully returned, as he sat +looking at the picture with affectionate eyes and praying, <i>sotto +voce</i>, for <i>el gedda</i>, <i>el gemeel</i> (the youth, the beautiful), +in the words of the <i>Fathah</i>, ‘O give him guidance and let +him not stray into the paths of the rejected!’ Altogether, +something in Sheykh Yussuf reminds me of Worsley: there is the same +look of <i>Seelen reinheit</i>, with far less thought and intelligence; +indeed little thought, of course, and an additional childlike innocence. +I suppose some medieval monks may have had the same look, but no Catholic +I have ever seen looks so peaceful or so unpretending. I see in +him, like in all people who don’t know what doubt means, that +easy familiarity with religion. I hear him joke with Omar about +Ramadan, and even about Omar’s assiduous prayers, and he is a +frequent and hearty laugher. I wonder whether this gives you any +idea of a character new to you. It is so impossible to describe +<i>manner</i>, which gives so much of the impression of novelty. +My conclusion is the heretical one: that to dream of converting here +is absurd, and, I will add, wrong. All that is wanted is general +knowledge and education, and the religion will clear and develop itself. +The elements are identical with those of Christianity, encumbered, as +that has been, with asceticism and intolerance. On the other hand, +the creed is simple and there are no priests, a decided advantage. +I think the faith has remained wonderfully rational considering the +extreme ignorance of those who hold it. I will add Sally’s +practical remark, that ‘The prayers are a fine thing for lazy +people; they must wash first, and the prayer is a capital drill.’</p> +<p>You would be amused to hear Sally when Omar does not wake in time +to wash, pray, and eat before daybreak now in Ramadán. +She knocks at his door and acts as Muezzin. ‘Come, Omar, +get up and pray and have your dinner’ (the evening meal is ‘breakfast,’ +the early morning one ‘dinner’). Being a light sleeper +she hears the Muezzin, which Omar often does not, and passes on the +‘Prayers is better than sleep’ in a prose version. +Ramadán is a dreadful business; everybody is cross and lazy—no +wonder! The camel-men quarrelled all day under my window yesterday, +and I asked what it was all about. ‘All about nothing; it +is Ramadán with them,’ said Omar laughing. ‘I +want to quarrel with someone myself; it is hot to-day, and thirsty weather.’ +Moreover, I think it injures the health of numbers permanently, but +of course it is the thing of most importance in the eyes of the people; +there are many who never pray at ordinary times, but few fail to keep +Ramadán. It answers to the Scotch Sabbath, a comparison +also borrowed from Sally.</p> +<p><i>Friday</i>.—My friend Seleem Effendi has just been here +talking about his own affairs and a good deal of theology. He +is an immense talker, and I just put <i>eywas</i> (yes) and <i>là</i> +(no) and <i>sahé</i> (very true), and learn manners and customs. +He tells me he has just bought two black slave women, mother and daughter, +from a Copt for about £35 the two. The mother is a good +cook, and the daughter is ‘for his bed,’ as his wife does +not like to leave Cairo and her boys at school there. It does +give one a sort of start to hear a most respectable magistrate tell +one such a domestic arrangement. He added that it would not interfere +with the <i>Sittel Kebeer</i> (the great lady), the black girl being +only a slave, and these people never think they have children enough. +Moreover, he said he could not get on with his small pay without women +to keep house, which is quite true here, and women are not respectable +in a man’s house on other terms. Seleem has a high reputation, +and is said not to ‘eat the people.’ He is a hot Mussulman, +and held forth very much as a very superficial Unitarian might do, evidently +feeling considerable contempt for the absurdities, as he thinks them, +of the Copts (he was too civil to say Christians), but no hatred (and +he is known to show no partiality), only he ‘can’t understand +how people can believe such nonsense.’ He is a good specimen +of the good, honest, steady-going man-of-the-world Muslim, a strong +contrast to the tender piety of dear Sheykh Yussuf, who has all the +feelings which we call Christian charity in the highest degree, and +whose face is like that of ‘the beloved disciple,’ but who +has no inclination for doctrinal harangues like worthy Seleem. +There is a very general idea among the Arabs that Christians hate the +Muslims; they attribute to us the old Crusading spirit. It is +only lately that Omar has let us see him at prayer, for fear of being +ridiculed, but now he is sure that is not so, I often find him praying +in the room where Sally sits at work, which is a clean, quiet place. +Yussuf went and joined him there yesterday evening, and prayed with +him, and gave him some religious instruction quite undisturbed by Sally +and her needlework, and I am continually complimented on <i>not hating</i> +the Muslims. Yussuf promises me letters to some Alim in Cairo +when I go there again, that I may be shown the Azhar (the great college). +Omar had told him that I refused to go with a janissary from the Consul +for fear of giving offence to any very strict Muslims, which astonished +him much. He says his friends shall dress me in their women’s +clothes and take me in. I asked whether as a concealment of my +religion, and he said no, only there were ‘thousands’ of +young men, and it would be ‘more delicate’ that they should +not stare and talk about my face.</p> +<p>Seleem told me a very pretty grammatical quibble about ‘son’ +and ‘prophet’ (apropos of Christ) on a verse in the Gospel, +depending on the reduplicative sign [Arabic sign for sheddeh] (<i>sheddeh</i>) +over one letter; he was just as put out when I reminded him that it +was written in Greek, as our amateur theologians are if you say the +Bible was not originally composed in English. However, I told +him that many Christians in England, Germany, and America did not believe +that Seyyidna Eesa was God, but only the greatest of prophets and teachers, +and that I was myself of that opinion. He at once declared that +that was sufficient, that all such had ‘received guidance,’ +and were not ‘among the rejected’; how could they be, since +such Christians only believed the teaching of Eesa, which was true, +and not the falsifications of the priests and bishops (the bishops always +‘catch it,’ as schoolboys say). I was curious to hear +whether on the strength of this he would let out any further intolerance +against the Copts, but he said far less and far less bitterly than I +have heard from Unitarians, and debited the usual most commonplace, +common-sense kind of arguments on the subject. I fancy it would +not be very palatable to many Unitarians, to be claimed <i>mir nichts +dir nichts</i> as followers of <i>el-Islam</i>; but if people really +wish to convert in the sense of improving, that door is open, and no +other.</p> +<p><i>Monday</i>, 7<i>th</i>.—The steamer is come down already +and will, I suppose, go on to-morrow, so I must finish this letter to +go by it. I have not received any letter for some time, and am +anxiously expecting the post. We have now settled into quite warm +weather ways, no more going out at mid-day. It is now broiling, +and I have been watching eight tall fine blacks swimming and capering +about, their skins shining like otters’ fur when wet. They +belong to a <i>gelláab</i>—a slave-dealer’s boat. +The beautiful thing is to see the men and boys at work among the green +corn, the men half naked and the boys wholly so; in the sun their brown +skins look just like dark clouded amber—semi-transparent, so fine +are they.</p> +<p>I rejoice to say that on Wednesday is Bairam, and to-morrow Ramadan +‘dies.’ Omar is very thin and yellow and headachy, +and everyone is cross. How I wish I were going, instead of my +letter, to see you all, but it is evident that this heat is the thing +that does me good, if anything will.</p> +<h3>March 7, 1864: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>March</i> 7, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>The real hot weather (speaking after the manner of the English) has +begun, and the fine sun and clear air are delicious and reviving. +My cough fades away, and my strength increases slowly. One can +no longer go out in the middle of the day, and I mount my donkey early +and late, with little Achmet trotting beside me. In the evenings +comes my dear Sheykh Yussuf, and I blunder through an hour’s dictation, +and reading of the story of the Barber’s fifth brother (he with +the basket of glass). I presume that Yussuf likes me too, for +I am constantly greeted with immense cordiality by graceful men in green +turbans, belonging, like him, to the holy family of Sheykh Abu-’l-Hajjaj. +They inquire tenderly after my health, and pray for me, and hope I am +going to stay among them.</p> +<p>You would be much struck here with the resemblance to Spain, I think. +‘Cosas de España’ is exactly the ‘<i>Shogl-el-Arab</i>,’ +and Don Fulano is the Arabic word <i>foolan</i> (such a one), as <i>Ojala</i> +is <i>Inshallah</i> (please God). The music and dancing here, +too, are Spanish, only ‘more so’ and much more.</p> +<p><i>March</i> 10, 1864.—Yesterday was Bairam, and on Tuesday +evening everybody who possessed a gun or a pistol banged away, every +drum and taraboukeh was thumped, and all the children holloaed, <i>Ramadan +Māt</i>, <i>Ramadan Māt</i> (Ramadan’s dead) about the +streets. At daybreak Omar went to the early prayer, a special +ceremony of the day. There were crowds of people, so, as it was +useless to pray and preach in the mosque, Sheykh Yussuf went out upon +a hillock in the burying-ground, where they all prayed and he preached. +Omar reported the sermon to me, as follows (it is all extempore): First +Yussuf pointed to the graves, ‘Where are all those people?’ +and to the ancient temples, ‘Where are those who built them? +Do not strangers from a far country take away their very corpses to +wonder at? What did their splendour avail them? etc., etc. +What then, O Muslims, <i>will</i> avail that you may be happy when that +comes which will come for all? Truly God is just and will defraud +no man, and He will reward you if you do what is right; and that is, +to wrong no man, neither in person, nor in his family, nor in his possessions. +<i>Cease then to cheat one another, O men</i>, and to be greedy, and +do not think that you can make amends by afterwards giving alms, or +praying, or fasting, or giving gifts to the servants of the mosque. +<i>Benefits come from God; it is enough for you if you do no injury +to any man, and above all to any woman or little one</i>.’ +Of course it was much longer, but this was the substance, Omar tells +me, and pretty sound morality too, methinks, and might be preached with +advantage to a meeting of philanthropists in Exeter Hall. There +is no predestination in <i>Islam</i>, and every man will be judged upon +his actions. ‘Even unbelievers God will not defraud,’ +says the Koran. Of course, a belief in meritorious works leads +to the same sort of superstition as among Catholics, the endeavour to +‘make one’s soul’ by alms, fastings, endowments, etc.; +therefore Yussuf’s stress upon doing no evil seems to me very +remarkable, and really profound. After the sermon, all the company +assembled rushed on him to kiss his head, and his hands and his feet, +and mobbed him so fearfully that he had to lay about him with the wooden +sword which is carried by the officiating Alim. He came to wish +me the customary good wishes soon after, and looked very hot and tumbled, +and laughed heartily about the awful kissing he had undergone. +All the men embrace on meeting on the festival of Bairam.</p> +<p>The kitchen is full of cakes (ring-shaped) which my friends have +sent me, just such as we see offered to the gods in the temples and +tombs. I went to call on the Maōhn in the evening, and found +a lot of people all dressed in their best. Half were Copts, among +them a very pleasing young priest who carried on a religious discussion +with Seleem Effendi, strange to say, with perfect good-humour on both +sides. A Copt came up with his farm labourer, who had been beaten +and the field robbed. The Copt stated the case in ten words, and +the Maōhn sent off his cavass with him to apprehend the accused +persons, who were to be tried at sunrise and beaten, if found guilty, +and forced to make good the damage. General Hay called yesterday—a +fine old, blue-eyed soldier. He found a lot of Fellaheen sitting +with me, enjoying coffee and pipes hugely, and they were much gratified +at our pressing them not to move or disturb themselves, when they all +started up in dismay at the entrance of such a grand-looking Englishman +and got off the carpet. So we told them that in our country the +business of a farmer was looked upon as very respectable, and that the +General would ask his farmers to sit and drink wine with him. +‘<i>Mashallah, taib kateer</i>’ (It is the will of God, +and most excellent), said old Omar, my fellah friend, and kissed his +hand to General Hay quite affectionately. We English are certainly +liked here. Seleem said yesterday evening that he had often had +to do business with them, and found them always <i>doghri</i> (straight), +men of one word and of no circumlocutions, ‘and so unlike all +the other Europeans, and especially the French!’ The fact +is that few but decent English come here, I fancy our scamps go to the +colonies, whereas Egypt is the sink for all the iniquity of the South +of Europe.</p> +<p>A worthy Copt here, one Todorus, took ‘a piece of paper’ +for £20 for antiquities sold to an Englishman, and after the Englishman +was gone, brought it to me to ask what sort of paper it was, and how +he could get it changed, or was he, perhaps, to keep it till the gentleman +sent him the money? It was a circular note, which I had difficulty +in explaining, but I offered to send it to Cairo to Brigg’s and +get it cashed; as to when he would get the money I could not say, as +they must wait for a safe hand to send gold by. I told him to +put his name on the back of the note, and Todorus thought I wanted it +<i>as a receipt</i> for the money which was yet to come, and was going +cheerfully to write me a receipt for the £20 he was entrusting +to me. Now a Copt is not at all green where his pocket is concerned, +but they will take anything from the English. I do hope no swindler +will find it out. Mr. Close told me that when his boat sank in +the Cataract, and he remained half dressed on the rock, without a farthing, +four men came and offered to lend him anything. While I was in +England last year an Englishman to whom Omar acted as <i>laquais de +place</i> went away owing him £7 for things bought. Omar +had money enough to pay all the tradespeople, and kept it secret for +fear any of the other Europeans should say, ‘Shame for the English’ +and did not even tell his family. Luckily, the man sent the money +by the next mail from Malta, and the Sheykh of the dragomans proclaimed +it, and so Omar got it; but he would never have mentioned it else. +This ‘concealing of evil’ is considered very meritorious, +and where women are concerned positively a religious duty. <i>Le +scandale est ce qui fait l’offense</i> is very much the notion +in Egypt, and I believe that very forgiving husbands are commoner here +than elsewhere. The whole idea is founded on the verse of the +Koran, incessantly quoted, ‘The woman is made for the man, but +the man is made for the woman’; <i>ergo</i>, the obligations to +chastity are equal; <i>ergo</i>, as the men find it difficult, they +argue that the women do the same. I have never heard a woman’s +misconduct spoken of without a hundred excuses; perhaps her husband +had slave girls, perhaps he was old or sick, or she didn’t like +him, or she couldn’t help it. Violent love comes ‘by +the visitation of God,’ as our juries say; the man or woman must +satisfy it or die. A poor young fellow is now in the muristan +(the madhouse) of Cairo owing to the beauty and sweet tongue of an English +lady whose servant he was. How could he help it? God sent +the calamity.</p> +<p>I often hear of Lady Ellenborough, who is married to the Sheykh-el-Arab +of Palmyra, and lives at Damascus. The Arabs think it inhuman +of English ladies to avoid her. Perhaps she has repented; at all +events, she is married and lives with her husband. I asked Omar +if he would tell his brother if he saw his wife do anything wrong. +(N.B.—He can’t endure her.) ‘Certainly not, +I must cover her with my cloak.’ I am told, also, that among +the Arabs of the desert (the <i>real</i> Arabs), when a traveller, tired +and wayworn, seeks their tents, it is the duty of his host, generally +the Sheykh, to send him into the hareem, and leave him there three days, +with full permission to do as he will after the women have bathed, and +rubbed, and refreshed him. But then he must never speak of that +Hareem; they are to him as his own, to be reverenced. If he spoke, +the husband would kill him; but the Arab would never do it for a European, +‘because all Europeans are so hard upon women,’ and do not +fear God and conceal their offences. If a dancing-girl repents, +the most respectable man may and does marry her, and no one blames or +laughs at him. I believe all this leads to a good deal of irregularity, +but certainly the feeling is amiable. It is impossible to conceive +how startling it is to a Christian to hear the rules of morality applied +with perfect impartiality to both sexes, and to hear Arabs who know +our manners talk of the English being ‘jealous’ and ‘hard +upon their women.’ Any unchastity is wrong and <i>haram</i> +(unlawful), but equally so in men and women. Seleem Effendi talked +in this strain, and seemed to incline to greater indulgence to women +on the score of their ignorance and weakness. Remember, I only +speak of Arabs. I believe the Turkish ideas are different, as +is their whole hareem system, and Egypt is not the rule for all Muslims.</p> +<p><i>Saturday</i>, 12<i>th</i>.—I dined last night with Mustapha, +who again had the dancing-girls for some Englishmen to see. Seleem +Effendi got the doctor, who was of the party, to prescribe for him, +and asked me to translate to him all about his old stomach as coolly +as possible. He, as usual, sat by me on the divan, and during +the pause in the dancing called ‘el Maghribeeyeh,’ the best +dancer, to come and talk. She kissed my hand, sat on her heels +before us, and at once laid aside the professional <i>galliardise</i> +of manner, and talked very nicely in very good Arabic and with perfect +propriety, more like a man than a woman; she seemed very intelligent. +What a thing we should think it for a worshipful magistrate to call +up a girl of that character to talk to a lady!</p> +<p>Yesterday we had a strange and unpleasant day’s business. +The evening before I had my pocket picked in Karnac by two men who hung +about me, one to sell a bird, the other one of the regular ‘loafers’ +who hang about the ruins to beg, and sell water or curiosities, and +who are all a lazy, bad lot, of course. I went to Seleem, who +wrote at once to the Sheykh-el-Beled of Karnac to say that we should +go over next morning at eight o’clock to investigate the affair, +and to desire him to apprehend the men. Next morning Seleem fetched +me, and Mustapha came to represent English interests, and as we rode +out of Luxor the Sheykh-el-Ababdeh joined us, with four of his tribe +with their long guns, and a lot more with lances. He was a volunteer, +and furious at the idea of a lady and a stranger being robbed. +It is the first time it has happened here, and the desire to beat was +so strong that I went to act as counsel for the prisoner. Everyone +was peculiarly savage that it should have happened to me, a person well +known to be so friendly to <i>el Muslimeen</i>. When we arrived +we went into a square enclosure, with a sort of cloister on one side, +spread with carpets where we sat, and the wretched fellows were brought +in chains. To my horror, I found they had been beaten already. +I remonstrated, ‘What if you had beaten the wrong men?’ +‘<i>Maleysh</i>! (Never mind!) we will beat the whole village +until your purse is found.’ I said to Mustapha, ‘This +won’t do; you must stop this.’ So Mustapha ordained, +with the concurrence of the Maōhn, that the Sheykh-el-Beled and +the <i>gefiyeh</i> (the keeper of the ruins) should pay me the value +of the purse. As the people of Karnac are very troublesome in +begging and worrying, I thought this would be a good lesson to the said +Sheykh to keep better order, and I consented to receive the money, promising +to return it and to give a napoleon over if the purse comes back with +its contents (3½ napoleons). The Sheykh-el-Ababdeh harangued +the people on their ill-behaviour to Hareemát, called them <i>harámee</i> +(rascals), and was very high and mighty to the Sheykh-el-Beled. +Hereupon I went away to visit a Turkish lady in the village, leaving +Mustapha to settle. After I was gone they beat eight or ten of +the boys who had mobbed me, and begged with the two men. Mustapha, +who does not like the stick, stayed to see that they were not hurt, +and so far it will be a good lesson to them. He also had the two +men sent over to the prison here, for fear the Sheykh-el-Beled should +beat them again, and will keep them here for a time. So far so +good, but my fear now is that innocent people will be squeezed to make +up the money, if the men do not give up the purse. I have told +Sheykh Yussuf to keep watch how things go, and if the men persist in +the theft and don’t return the purse, I shall give the money to +those whom the Sheykh-el-Beled will assuredly squeeze, or else to the +mosque of Karnac. I cannot pocket it, though I thought it quite +right to exact the fine as a warning to the Karnac <i>mauvais sujets</i>. +As we went home the Sheykh-el-Ababdeh (such a fine fellow he looks) +came up and rode beside me, and said, ‘I know you are a person +of kindness; do not tell this story in this country. If Effendina +(Ismail Pasha) comes to hear, he may “take a broom and sweep away +the village.”’ I exclaimed in horror, and Mustapha +joined at once in the request, and said, ‘Do not tell anyone in +Egypt. The Sheykh-el-Ababdeh is quite true; it might cost many +lives.’ The whole thing distressed me horribly. If +I had not been there they would have beaten right and left, and if I +had shown any desire to have anyone punished, evidently they would have +half killed the two men. Mustapha behaved extremely well. +He showed sense, decision, and more feelings of humanity than I at all +expected of him. Pray do as I begged you, try to get him paid. +Some of the Consuls in Cairo are barely civil, and old Mustapha has +all the bother and work of the whole of the Nile boats (eighty-five +this winter), and he is boundlessly kind and useful to the English, +and a real protection against cheating, etc.</p> +<h3>March 16, 1864: Mr. Tom Taylor</h3> +<p><i>To Mr. Tom Taylor</i>.<br /> +<i>March</i> 16, 1864.</p> +<p>Dear Tom,</p> +<p>I cannot tell you how delighted I was to hear that all had gone well +with Laura and your little daughter. <i>Mashallah</i>! God +bless her! When I told Omar that a friend ‘like my brother,’ +as Arabs say, had got a baby, he proposed to illuminate our house and +fire off all the pistols in the premises. Pray give my kind love +and best wishes to Laura.</p> +<p>I am living here a very quiet, dreamy sort of life in hot Thebes, +visiting a little among my neighbours and learning a little Arabic from +a most sweet, gentle young Sheykh who preaches on Fridays in the mosque +of Luxor. I wish I could draw his soft brown face and graceful, +brown-draped figure; but if I could, he is too devout I believe, to +permit it. The police magistrate—el-Maōhn—Seleem +Effendi, is also a great friend of mine, and the Kadee is civil, but +a little scornful to heretical Hareem, I think. It is already +very hot, and the few remaining traveller’s dahabiehs are now +here on their way down the river; after that I shall not see a white +face for many months, except Sally’s.</p> +<p>Sheykh Yussuf laughed so heartily over a print in an illustrated +paper, from a picture of Hilton’s, of Rebekah at the well, with +the old <i>Vakeel</i> of Sidi Ibraheem (Abraham’s chief servant) +<i>kneeling</i> before the girl he was sent to fetch like an old fool +without his turban, and Rebekah and the other girls in queer fancy dresses, +and the camels with snouts like pigs. ‘If the painter could +not go to Es-Sham (Syria) to see how the Arab (Bedaween) really look,’ +said Sheykh Yussuf, ‘why did he not paint a well in England with +girls like English peasants? At least it would have looked natural +to English people, and the <i>Vakeel</i> would not seem so like a <i>majnoon</i> +(a madman) if he had taken off a hat.’ I cordially agreed +with Yussuf’s art criticism. Fancy pictures of Eastern things +are hopelessly absurd, and fancy poems too. I have got hold of +a stray copy of Victor Hugo’s ‘<i>Orientales</i>,’ +and I think I never laughed more in my life.</p> +<p>The corn is now full-sized here, but still green; in twenty days +will be harvest, and I am to go to the harvest-home to a fellah friend +of mine in a village a mile or two off. The crop is said to be +unusually fine. Old Nile always pays back the damage he does when +he rises so very high. The real disaster is the cattle disease, +which still goes on, I hear, lower down. It has not at present +spread above Minieh, but the destruction has been fearful.</p> +<p>I more and more feel the difficulty of quite understanding a people +so unlike ourselves—the more I know them, I mean. One thing +strikes me, that like children, they are not conscious of the great +gulf which divides educated Europeans from themselves; at least, I believe +it is so. We do not attempt to explain our ideas to them, but +I cannot discover any such reticence in them. I wonder whether +this has struck people who can talk fluently and know them better than +I do? I find they appeal to my sympathy in trouble quite comfortably, +and talk of religious and other feelings apparently as freely as to +each other. In many respects they are more unprejudiced than we +are, and very intelligent, and very good in many ways; and yet they +seem so strangely childish, and I fancy I detect that impression even +in Lane’s book, though he does not say so.</p> +<p>If you write to me, dear Tom, please address me care of Briggs and +Co., Cairo. I shall be so glad to hear of you and yours. +Janet is going to England. I wish I were going too, but it is +useless to keep trying a hopeless experiment. At present I am +very comfortable in health as long as I do nothing and the weather is +warm. I suffer little pain, only I feel weak and weary.</p> +<p>I have extensive practice in the doctoring line; bad eyes, of course, +abound. My love to Watts, and give greetings to any other of my +friends. I grieve over Thackeray much, and more over his girls’ +lonely sort of position.</p> +<p>I think you would enjoy, as I do, the peculiar sort of social equality +which prevails here; it is the exact contrary of French <i>égalité</i>. +There are the great and powerful people, much honoured (outwardly, at +all events), but nobody has <i>inferiors</i>. A man comes in and +kisses my hand, and sits down <i>off</i> the carpet out of respect; +but he smokes his pipe, drinks his coffee, laughs, talks and asks questions +as freely as if he were an Effendi or I were a fellahah; he is not my +inferior, he is my poor brother. The servants in my friends’ +houses receive me with profound demonstrations of respect, and wait +at dinner reverently, but they mix freely in the conversation, and take +part in all amusements, music, dancing-girls, or reading of the Koran. +Even the dancing-girl is not an outcast; she is free to talk to me, +and it is highly irreligious to show any contempt or aversion. +The rules of politeness are the same for all. The passer-by greets +the one sitting still, or the one who comes into a room those who are +already there, without distinction of rank. When I have greeted +the men they always rise, but if I pass without, they take no notice +of me. All this is very pleasant and graceful, though it is connected +with much that is evil. The fact that any man may be a Bey or +a Pasha to-morrow is not a good fact, for the promotion is more likely +to fall on a bad slave than on a good or intelligent free man. +Thus, the only honourable class are those who have nothing to hope from +the great—I won’t say anything to fear, for all have cause +for that. Hence the high respectability and <i>gentility</i> of +the merchants, who are the most independent of the Government. +The English would be a little surprised at Arab judgments of them; they +admire our veracity and honesty, and like us on the whole, but they +blame the men for their conduct to women. They are shocked at +the way Englishmen talk about Hareem among themselves, and think the +English hard and unkind to their wives, and to women in general. +English Hareemát is generally highly approved, and an Arab thinks +himself a happy man if he can marry an English girl. I have had +an offer for Sally from the chief man here for his son, proposing to +allow her a free exercise of her religion and customs as a matter of +course. I think the influence of foreigners is much more real +and much more useful on the Arabs than on the Turks, though the latter +show it more in dress, etc. But all the engineers and physicians +are Arabs, and very good ones, too. Not a Turk has learnt anything +practical, and the dragomans and servants employed by the English have +learnt a strong appreciation of the value of a character for honesty, +deserved or no; but many do deserve it. Compared to the couriers +and <i>laquais de place</i> of Europe, these men stand very high. +Omar has just run in to say a boat is going, so good-bye, and God bless +you.</p> +<h3>March 22, 1864: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>March</i> 22, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I am glad my letters amuse you. Sometimes I think they must +breathe the unutterable dulness of Eastern life: not that it is dull +to me, a curious spectator, but how the men with nothing to do can endure +it is a wonder. I went yesterday to call on a Turk at Karnac; +he is a gentlemanly man, the son of a former Moudir, who was murdered, +I believe, for his cruelty and extortion. He has 1,000 feddans +(acres, or a little more) of land, and lives in a mud house, larger +but no better than any fellahs, with two wives and the brother of one +of them. He leaves the farm to his fellaheen altogether, I fancy. +There was one book, a Turkish one; I could not read the title-page, +and he did not tell me what it was. In short, there was no means +of killing time but the narghile, no horse, no gun, nothing, and yet +they did not seem bored. The two women are always clamorous for +my visits, and very noisy and school-girlish, but apparently excellent +friends and very good-natured. The gentleman gave me a <i>kufyeh</i> +(thick head kerchief for the sun), so I took the ladies a bit of silk +I happened to have. You never heard anything like his raptures +over Maurice’s portrait, ‘<i>Mashallah</i>, <i>Mashallah</i>, +<i>Wallahy zay el ward</i>’ (It is the will of God, and by God +he is like a rose). But I can’t ‘cotton to’ +the Turks. I always feel that they secretly dislike us European +women, though they profess huge admiration and pay <i>personal</i> compliments, +which an Arab very seldom attempts. I heard Seleem Effendi and +Omar discussing English ladies one day lately while I was inside the +curtain with Seleem’s slave girl, and they did not know I heard +them. Omar described Janet, and was of the opinion that a man +who was married to her could want nothing more. ‘By my soul, +she rides like a Bedawee, she shoots with the gun and pistol, and rows +the boat; she speaks many languages, works with the needle like an Efreet, +and to see her hands run over the teeth of the music-box (keys of piano) +amazes the mind, while her singing gladdens the soul. How then +should her husband ever desire the coffee-shop? <i>Wallahy</i>! +she can always amuse him at home. And as to my lady, the thing +is not that she does not know. When I feel my stomach tightened, +I go to the divan and say to her, ‘Do you want anything, a pipe, +or sherbet, or so and so?’ and I talk till she lays down her book +and talks to me, and I question her and amuse my mind, and, by God! +if I were a rich man and could marry one English Hareem like that I +would stand before her and serve her like her memlook. You see +I am only this lady’s servant, and I have not once sat in the +coffee-shop because of the sweetness of her tongue. Is it not +therefore true that the man who can marry such Hareem is rich more than +with money?’ Seleem seemed disposed to think a little more +of looks, though he quite agreed with all Omar’s enthusiasm, and +asked if Janet were beautiful. Omar answered with decorous vagueness +that she was a ‘moon,’ but declined mentioning her hair, +eyes, etc. (it is a liberty to describe a woman minutely). I nearly +laughed out at hearing Omar relate his manœuvres to make me ‘amuse +his mind’; it seems I am in no danger of being discharged for +being dull.</p> +<p>The weather has set in so hot that I have shifted my quarters out +of my fine room to the south-west into one with only three sides looking +over a lovely green view to the north-east, with a huge sort of solid +veranda, as large as the room itself, on the open side; thus I live +in the open air altogether. The bats and the swallows are quite +sociable; I hope the serpents and scorpions will be more reserved. +‘<i>El Khamaseen</i>’ (the fifty) has begun, and the wind +is enough to mix up heaven and earth, but it is not distressing like +the Cape south-easter, and, though hot, not choking like the Khamseen +in Cairo and Alexandria. Mohammed brought me a handful of the +new wheat just now. Think of harvest in March and April! +These winds are as good for the crops here as a ‘nice steady rain’ +is in England. It is not necessary to water so much when the wind +blows strong. As I rode through the green fields along the dyke, +a little boy sang as he turned round on the musically-creaking Sakìah +(the water-wheel turned by an ox) the one eternal Sakìah tune—the +words are <i>ad libitum</i>, and my little friend chanted ‘Turn +oh Sakìah to the right and turn to the left—who will take +care of me if my father dies? Turn oh Sakìah, etc., pour +water for the figs and the grass and for the watermelons. Turn +oh Sakìah!’ Nothing is so pathetic as that Sakìah +song.</p> +<p>I passed the house of the Sheykh-el-Ababdeh, who called out to me +to take coffee. The moon was splendid and the scene was lovely. +The handsome black-brown Sheykh in dark robes and white turban, Omar +in a graceful white gown and red turban, and the wild Ababdeh in all +manner of dingy white rags, and with every kind of uncouth weapon, spears, +matchlocks, etc., in every kind of wild and graceful attitude, with +their long black ringlets and bare heads, a few little black-brown children +quite naked and shaped like Cupids. And there we sat and looked +so romantic and talked quite like ladies and gentlemen about the merits +of Sakna and Almás, the two great rival women-singers of Cairo. +I think the Sheykh wished to display his experiences of fashionable +life.</p> +<p>The Copts are now fasting and cross. They fast fifty-five days +for Lent; no meat, fish, eggs, or milk, no exception for Sundays, no +food till after twelve at noon, and no intercourse with the hareem. +The only comfort is lots of arrak, and what a Copt can carry decently +is an unknown quantity; one seldom sees them drunk, but they imbibe +awful quantities. They offer me wine and arrak always, and can’t +think why I don’t drink it. I believe they suspect my Christianity +in consequence of my preference for Nile water. As to that, though, +they scorn all heretics, <i>i.e</i>., all Christians but themselves +and the Abyssinians, more than they do the Muslims, and dislike them +more; the procession of the Holy Ghost question divides us with the +Gulf of Jehannum. The gardener of this house is a Copt, such a +nice fellow, and he and Omar chaff one another about religion with the +utmost good humour; indeed they are seldom touchy with the Moslems. +There is a pretty little man called Michaïl, a Copt, vakeel to +M. Mounier. I wish I could draw him to show a perfect specimen +of the ancient Egyptian race; his blood must be quite unmixed. +He came here yesterday to speak to Ali Bey, the Moudir of Keneh, who +was visiting me (a splendid handsome Turk he is); so little Michaïl +crept in to mention his business under my protection, and a few more +followed, till Ali Bey got tired of holding a durbar in my divan and +went away to his boat. You see the people think the <i>courbash</i> +is not quite so handy with an English spectator. The other day +Mustapha A’gha got Ali Bey to do a little job for him—to +let the people in the Gezeereh (the island), which is Mustapha’s +property, work at a canal there instead of at the canal higher up for +the Pasha. Very well, but down comes the Nazir (the Moudir’s +<i>sub</i>.), and courbashes the whole Gezeereh, not Mustapha, of course, +but the poor <i>fellaheen</i> who were doing his corvée instead +of the Pasha’s by the Moudir’s order. I went to the +Gezeereh and thought that Moses was at work again and had killed a firstborn +in every house by the crying and wailing, when up came two fellows and +showed me their bloody feet, which their wives were crying over like +for a death, <i>Shorghl el Mizr</i>—things of Egypt—like +<i>Cosas de España</i>.</p> +<p><i>Wednesday</i>.—Last night I bored Sheykh Yussuf with Antara +and Abou-Zeyd, maintaining the greater valour of Antara who slew 10,000 +for the love of Ibla; you know Antara. Yussuf looks down on such +profanities, and replied, ‘What are Antara and Abou-Zeyd compared +to the combats of our Lord Moses with Og and other infidels of might, +and what is the love of Antara for Ibla compared to that of our Lord +Solomon for Balkees (Queen of Sheba), or their beauty and attractiveness +to that of our Lord Joseph?’ And then he related the combat +of <i>Seyyidna Mousa</i> with Og; and I thought, ‘hear O ye Puritans, +and give ear O ye Methodists, and learn how religion and romance are +one to those whose manners and ideas are the manners and ideas of the +Bible, and how Moses was not at all a crop-eared Puritan, but a gallant +warrior!’ There is the Homeric element in the religion here, +the Prophet is a hero like Achilles, and like him directed by God—Allah +instead of Athene. He fights, prays, teaches, makes love, and +is truly a <i>man</i>, not an abstraction; and as to wonderful events, +instead of telling one to ‘gulp them down without looking’ +(as children are told with a nasty dose, and as we are told about Genesis, +etc.) they believe them and delight in them, and tell them to amuse +people. Such a piece of deep-disguised scepticism as <i>Credo +quia impossibile</i> would find no favour here; ‘What is impossible +to God?’ settles everything. In short, Mohammed has somehow +left the stamp of romance on the religion, or else it is in the blood +of the people, though the Koran is prosy and ‘common-sensical’ +compared to the Old Testament. I used to think Arabs intensely +prosaic till I could understand a little of their language, but now +I can trace the genealogy of Don Quixote straight up to some Sheykh-el-Arab.</p> +<p>A fine, handsome woman with a lovely baby came to me the other day. +I played with the baby, and gave it a cotton handkerchief for its head. +The woman came again yesterday to bring me a little milk and some salad +as a present, and to tell my fortune with date stones. I laughed, +and so she contented herself with telling Omar about his family, which +he believed implicitly. She is a clever woman evidently, and a +great sibyl here. No doubt she has faith in her own predictions. +She told Mme. Mounier (who is a Levantine) that she would never have +a child, and was forbidden the house accordingly, and the prophecy has +‘come true.’ Superstition is wonderfully infectious +here. The fact is that the Arabs are so intensely impressionable, +and so cowardly about inspiring any ill-will, that if a man looks askance +at them it is enough to make them ill, and as calamities are not infrequent, +there is always some mishap ready to be laid to the charge of somebody’s +‘eye.’ Omar would fain have had me say nothing about +the theft of my purse, for fear the Karnac people should hate me and +give me the eye. A part of the boasting about property, etc., +is politeness, so that one may not be supposed to be envious of one’s +neighbours’ nice things. My Sakka (water carrier) admired +my bracelet yesterday, as he was watering the verandah floor, and instantly +told me of all the gold necklaces and earrings he had bought for his +wife and daughters, that I might not be uneasy and fear his envious +eye. He is such a good fellow. For two shillings a month +he brings up eight or ten huge skins of water from the river a day, +and never begs or complains, always merry and civil. I shall enlarge +his backsheesh. There are a lot of camels who sleep in the yard +under my verandah; they are pretty and smell nice, but they growl and +swear at night abominably. I wish I could draw you an Egyptian +farm-yard, men, women and cattle; but what no one can draw is the amber +light, so brilliant and so soft, not like the Cape diamond sunshine +at all, but equally beautiful, hotter and less dazzling. There +is no glare in Egypt like in the South of France, and, I suppose, in +Italy.</p> +<p><i>Thursday</i>.—I went yesterday afternoon to the island again +to see the crops, and show Sally my friend farmer Omar’s house +and Mustapha’s village. Of course we had to eat, and did +not come home till the moon had long risen. Mustapha’s brother +Abdurachman walked about with us, such a noble-looking man, tall, spare, +dignified and active, grey-bearded and hard-featured, but as lithe and +bright-eyed as a boy, scorning any conveyance but his own feet, and +quite dry while we ‘ran down.’ He was like Boaz, the +wealthy gentleman peasant—nothing except the Biblical characters +gave any idea of the rich <i>fellah</i>. We sat and drank new +milk in a ‘lodge in a garden of cucumbers’ (the ‘lodge’ +is a neat hut of palm branches), and saw the moon rise over the mountains +and light up everything like a softer sun. Here you see all colours +as well by moonlight as by day; hence it does not look as brilliant +as the Cape moon, or even as I have seen in Paris, where it throws sharp +black shadows and white light. The night here is a tender, subdued, +dreamy sort of enchanted-looking day. My Turkish acquaintance +from Karnac has just been here; he boasted of his house in Damascus, +and invited me to go with him after the harvest here, also of his beautiful +wife in Syria, and then begged me not to mention her to his wives here.</p> +<p>It is very hot now; what will it be in June? It is now 86° +in my shady room at noon; it will be hotter at two or three. But +the mornings and evenings are delicious. I am shedding my clothes +by degrees; stockings are unbearable. Meanwhile my cough is almost +gone, and the pain is quite gone. I feel much stronger, too; the +horrible feeling of exhaustion has left me; I suppose I must have salamander +blood in my body to be made lively by such heat. Sally is quite +well; she does not seem at all the worse at present.</p> +<p><i>Saturday</i>.—This will go to-morrow by some travellers, +the last winter swallows. We went together yesterday to the Tombs +of the Kings on the opposite bank. The mountains were red-hot, +and the sun went down into Amenti all on fire. We met Mr. Dümmichen, +the German, who is living in the temple of Dayr el-Bahree, translating +inscriptions, and went down Belzoni’s tomb. Mr. Dümmichen +translated a great many things for us which were very curious, and I +think I was more struck with the beauty of the drawing of the figures +than last year. The face of the Goddess of the Western shore, +Amenti, Athor, or Hecate, is ravishing as she welcomes the King to her +regions; death was never painted so lovely. The road is a long +and most wild one—truly through the valley of the shadow of death—not +an insect nor a bird. Our moonlight ride home was beyond belief +beautiful. The Arabs who followed us were immensely amused at +hearing me interpret between German and English, and at my speaking +Arabic; they asked if I was dragoman of all the languages in the world. +One of them had droll theories about ‘Amellica’ (America), +as they pronounce it always. Was the King very powerful that the +country was called ‘<i>Al Melekeh</i>’ (the Kings)? +I said, ‘No: all are Kings there: you would be a King like the +rest.’ My friend disapproved utterly: ‘If all are +Kings they must all be taking away every man the other’s money’—a +delightful idea of the kingly vocation.</p> +<p>When we landed on the opposite shore, I told little Achmet to go +back in the ferry-boat, in which he had brought me over my donkey; a +quarter of an hour after I saw him by my side. The guide asked +why he had not gone as I told him. ‘Who would take care +of the lady?’ the monkey is Rainie’s size. Of course +he got tired, and on the way home I told him to jump up behind me <i>en +croupe</i> after the Fellah fashion. I thought the Arabs would +never have done laughing and saying <i>Wallah</i> and <i>Mashallah</i>. +Sheykh Yussuf talked about the excavations, and is shocked at the way +the mummies are kicked about. One boy told him they were not Muslims +as an excuse, and he rebuked him severely, and told him it was <i>haraam</i> +(accursed) to do so to the children of Adam. He says they have +learned it very much of Mariette Bey, but I suspect it was always so +with the fellaheen. To-day a tremendous wind is blowing; excellent +for the corn. At Mustapha’s farm they are preparing for +the harvest, baking bread and selecting a young bull to be killed for +the reapers. It is not hot to-day; only 84° in a cool room. +The dust is horrid with this high wind; everything is gritty, and it +obscures the sun. I am desired to eat a raw onion every day during +the Khamseen for health and prosperity. This too must be a remnant +of ancient Egypt. How I do long to see you and the children. +Sometimes I feel rather down-hearted, but it is no good to say all that. +And I am much better and stronger. I stood a long ride and some +scrambling quite well last evening.</p> +<h3>April 6, 1864: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>April</i> 6, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I received yours of March 10 two days ago; also one from Hekekian +Bey, much advising me to stay here the summer and get my disease ‘evaporated.’ +Since I last wrote the great heat abated, and we now have 76° to +80°, with strong north breezes up the river—glorious weather—neither +too hot nor chilly at any time. Last evening I went out to the +threshing-floor to see the stately oxen treading out the corn, and supped +there with Abdurachman on roasted corn, sour cream, and eggs, and saw +the reapers take their wages, each a bundle of wheat according to the +work he had done—the most lovely sight. The graceful, half-naked, +brown figures loaded with sheaves; some had earned so much that their +mothers or wives had to help to carry it, and little fawn-like, stark-naked +boys trudged off, so proud of their little bundles of wheat or of <i>hummuz</i> +(a sort of vetch much eaten both green and roasted). The <i>sakka</i> +(water-carrier), who has brought water for the men, gets a handful from +each, and drives home his donkey with empty waterskins and a heavy load +of wheat, and the barber who has shaved all these brown heads on credit +this year past gets his pay, and everyone is cheerful and happy in their +gentle, quiet way; here is no beer to make men sweaty and noisy and +vulgar; the harvest is the most exquisite pastoral you can conceive. +The men work seven hours in the day (<i>i.e</i>., eight, with half-hours +to rest and eat), and seven more during the night; they go home at sunset +to dinner, and sleep a bit, and then to work again—these ‘lazy +Arabs’! The man who drives the oxen on the threshing-floor +gets a measure and a half for his day and night’s work, of threshed +corn, I mean. As soon as the wheat, barley, <i>addas</i> (lentils) +and <i>hummuz</i> are cut, we shall sow <i>dourrah</i> of two kinds, +common maize and Egyptian, and plant sugar-cane, and later cotton. +The people work very hard, but here they eat well, and being paid in +corn they get the advantage of the high price of corn this year.</p> +<p>I told you how my purse had been stolen and the proceedings thereanent. +Well, Mustapha asked me several times what I wished to be done with +the thief, who spent twenty-one days here in irons. With my absurd +English ideas of justice I refused to interfere at all, and Omar and +I had quite a tiff because he wished me to say, ‘Oh, poor man, +let him go; I leave the affair to God.’ I thought Omar absurd, +but it was I who was wrong. The authorities concluded that it +would oblige me very much if the poor devil were punished with a ‘rigour +beyond the law,’ and had not Sheykh Yussuf come and explained +the nature of the proceedings, the man would have been sent up to the +mines in Fazogloo <i>for life</i>, out of civility to me, by the Moudir +of Keneh, Ali Bey. There was no alternative between my ‘forgiving +him for the love of God’ or sending him to a certain death by +a climate insupportable to these people. Mustapha and Co. tried +hard to prevent Sheykh Yussuf from speaking to me, for fear I should +be angry and complain at Cairo, if my vengeance were not wreaked on +the thief, but he said he knew me better, and brought the <i>procès +verbal</i> to show me. Fancy my dismay! I went to Seleem +Effendi and to the Kadee with Sheykh Yussuf, and begged the man might +be let go, and not sent to Keneh at all. Having settled this, +I said that I had thought it right that the people of Karnac should +pay the money I had lost, as a fine for their bad conduct to strangers, +but that I did not require it for the sake of the money, which I would +accordingly give to the poor of Luxor in the mosque and in the church +(great applause from the crowd). I asked how many were Muslimeen +and how many Nazranee, in order to divide the three napoleons and a +half, according to the numbers. Sheykh Yussuf awarded one napoleon +to the church, two to the mosque, and the half to the water-drinking +place—the <i>Sebeel</i>—which was also applauded. +I then said, ‘Shall we send the money to the bishop?’ but +a respectable elderly Copt said, ‘<i>Malcysh</i>! (never mind) +better give it all to Sheykh Yussuf; he will send the bread to the church.’ +Then the Cadi made me a fine speech, and said I had behaved like a great +<i>Emeereh</i>, and one that feared God; and Sheykh Yussuf said he knew +the English had mercy in their stomachs, and that I especially had Mussulman +feelings (as we say, Christian charity). Did you ever hear of +such a state of administration of justice. Of course, sympathy +here, as in Ireland, is mostly with the ‘poor man’ in prison—‘in +trouble,’ as we say. I find that accordingly a vast number +of disputes are settled by private arbitration, and Yussuf is constantly +sent for to decide between contending parties, who abide by his decision +rather than go to law; or else five or six respectable men are called +upon to form a sort of amateur jury, and to settle the matter. +In criminal cases, if the prosecutor is powerful, he has it all his +own way; if the prisoner can bribe high, he is apt to get off. +All the appealing to my compassion was quite <i>en règle</i>. +Another trait of Egypt.</p> +<p>The other day we found all our water-jars empty and our house unsprinkled. +On enquiry it turned out that the <i>sakkas</i> had all run away, carrying +with them their families and goods, and were gone no one knew whither, +in consequence of some ‘persons having authority,’ one, +a Turkish <i>cawass</i> (policeman), having forced them to fetch water +for building purposes at so low a price that they could not bear it. +My poor <i>sakka</i> is gone without a whole month’s pay—two +shillings!—the highest pay by far given in Luxor. I am interested +in another story. I hear that a plucky woman here has been to +Keneh, and threatened the Moudir that she will go to Cairo and complain +to Effendina himself of the unfair drafting for soldiers—her only +son taken, while others have bribed off. She’ll walk in +this heat all the way, unless she succeeds in frightening the Moudir, +which, as she is of the more spirited sex in this country, she may possibly +do. You see these Saeedes are a bit less patient than Lower Egyptians. +The <i>sakkas</i> can strike, and a woman can face a Moudir.</p> +<p>You would be amused at the bazaar here. There is a barber, +and on Tuesdays some beads, calico, and tobacco are sold. The +only artizan is—a jeweller! We spin and weave our own brown +woollen garments, and have no other wants, but gold necklaces and nose +and earrings are indispensable. It is the safest way of hoarding, +and happily combines saving with ostentation. Can you imagine +a house without beds, chairs, tables, cups, glasses, knives—in +short, with nothing but an oven, a few pipkins and water-jars, and a +couple of wooden spoons, and some mats to sleep on? And yet people +are happy and quite civilized who live so. An Arab cook, with +his fingers and one cooking-pot, will serve you an excellent dinner +quite miraculously. The simplification of life possible in such +a climate is not conceivable unless one has seen it. The Turkish +ladies whom I visit at Karnac have very little more. They are +very fond of me, and always want me to stay and sleep, but how could +I sleep in my clothes on a mat-divan, poor spoiled European that I am? +But they pity and wonder far more at the absence of my ‘master.’ +I made a bad slip of the tongue and said ‘my husband’ before +Abdul Rafiah, the master of the house. The ladies laughed and +blushed tremendously, and I felt very awkward, but they turned the tables +on me in a few minutes by some questions they asked quite coolly.</p> +<p>I hardly know what I shall have to do. If the heat does not +turn out overpowering, I shall stay here; if I cannot bear it, I must +go down the river. I asked Omar if he could bear a summer here, +so dull for a young man fond of a little coffee-shop and gossip, for +that, if he could not, he might go down for a time and join me again, +as I could manage with some man here. He absolutely cried, kissed +my hands, and declared he was never so happy as with me, and he could +not rest if he thought I had not all I wanted. ‘I am your +<i>memlook</i>, not your servant—your <i>memlook</i>.’ +I really believe that these people sometimes love their English masters +better than their own people. Omar certainly has shown the greatest +fondness for me on all occasions.</p> +<h3>April 7, 1864: Mrs. Ross</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Ross</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>April</i> 7, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Janet,</p> +<p>I have continued very fairly well. We had great heat ten days +ago; now it is quite cool. Harvesting is going on, and never did +I see in any dream so lovely a sight as the whole process. An +acquaintance of mine, one Abdurachman, is Boaz, and as I sat with him +on the threshing-floor and ate roasted corn, I felt quite puzzled as +to whether I were really alive or only existing in imagination in the +Book of Ruth. It is such a <i>kief</i> that one enjoys under the +palm-trees, with such a scene. The harvest is magnificent here; +I never saw such crops. There is no cattle disease, but a good +deal of sickness among the people; I have to practise very extensively, +and often feel very anxious, as I cannot refuse to go to the poor souls +and give them medicine, with sore misgivings all the while. Fancy +that Hekekian Bey can’t get me an Arabic dictionary in Cairo. +I must send to London, I suppose, which seems hardly worth while. +I wish you could see my teacher, Sheykh Yussuf. I never before +saw a pious person amiable and good like him. He is intensely +devout, and not at all bigoted—a difficult combination; and, moreover, +he is lovely to behold, and has the prettiest and merriest laugh possible. +It is quite curious to see the mixture of a sort of learning with utter +ignorance and great superstition, and such perfect high-breeding and +beauty of character. It is exactly like associating with St. John.</p> +<p>I want dreadfully to be able to draw, or to photograph. The +group at the Sheykh-el-Ababdeh’s last night was ravishing, all +but my ugly hat and self. The black ringlets and dirty white drapery +and obsolete weapons—the graceful splendid Sheykh ‘black +but beautiful’ like the Shulamite—I thought of Antar and +Abou Zeyd.</p> +<p>Give my salaam to Mme. Tastu and ask her whether I may stay on here, +or if I go down stream during the heat whether I may return next winter, +in which case I might leave some of my goods. Hekekian strongly +advises me to remain here, and thinks the heat will be good. I +will try; 88° seemed to agree with me wonderfully, my cough is much +better.</p> +<h3>April 14, 1864: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>April</i> 14, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I have but this moment received your letter of the 18th March, which +went after Janet, who was hunting at Tel-el-Kebir. We have had +a tremendous Khamseen wind, and now a strong north wind quite fresh +and cool. The thermometer was 92° during the Khamseen, but +it did me no harm. Luckily I am very well for I am worked hard, +as a strange epidemic has broken out, and I am the <i>Hakeemeh</i> (doctress) +of Luxor. The <i>Hakeem</i> Pasha from Cairo came up and frightened +the people, telling them it was catching, and Yussuf forgot his religion +so far as to beg me not to be all day in the people’s huts; but +Omar and I despised the danger, I feeling sure it was not infectious, +and Omar saying <i>Min Allah</i>. The people get stoppage of the +bowels and die in eight days unless they are physicked; all who have +sent for me in time have recovered. <i>Alhamdulillah</i>, that +I can help the poor souls. It is harvest, and the hard work, and +the spell of intense heat, and the green corn, beans, etc., which they +eat, brings on the sickness. Then the Copts are fasting from all +animal food, and full of green beans and salad, and green corn. +Mustapha tried to persuade me not to give physick, for fear those who +died should pass for being poisoned, but both Omar and I are sure it +is only to excuse his own selfishness. Omar is an excellent assistant. +The bishop tried to make money by hinting that if I forbade my patients +to fast, I might pay for their indulgence. One poor, peevish little +man refused the chicken-broth, and told me that we Europeans had <i>our</i> +heaven in <i>this</i> world; Omar let out <i>kelb</i> (dog), but I stopped +him, and said, ‘Oh, my brother, God has made the Christians of +England unlike those of Egypt, and surely will condemn neither of us +on that account; mayest thou find a better heaven hereafter than I now +enjoy here.’ Omar threw his arms round me and said, ‘Oh, +thou good one, surely our Lord will reward thee for acting thus with +the meekness of a Muslimeh, and kissing the hand of him who strikes +thy face.’ (See how each religion claims humility.) +Suleyman was not pleased at his fellow-christian’s display of +charity. It does seem strange that the Copts of the lower class +will not give us the blessing, or thank God for our health like the +Muslimeen. Most of my patients are Christians, and some are very +nice people indeed. The people here have named me Sittee (Lady) +<i>Noor-ala-Noor</i>. A poor woman whose only child, a young man, +I was happy enough to cure when dreadfully ill, kissed my feet and asked +by what name to pray for me. I told her my name meant <i>Noor</i> +(light—<i>lux</i>), but as that was one of the names of God I +could not use it. ‘Thy name is <i>Noor-ala-Noor</i>,’ +said a man who was in the room. That means something like ‘God +is upon thy mind,’ or ‘light from the light,’ and +<i>Noor-ala-Noor</i> it remains; a combination of one of the names of +God is quite proper, like Abdallah, Abdurachman, etc. I begged +some medicines from a Countess Braniscki, who went down the other day; +when all is gone I don’t know what I shall do. I am going +to try to make castor oil; I don’t know how, but I shall try, +and Omar fancies he can manage it. The cattle disease has also +broken out desperately up in Esneh, and we see the dead beasts float +down all day. Of course we shall soon have it here.</p> +<p><i>Sunday</i>, <i>April</i> 17.—The epidemic seems to be over, +but there is still a great deal of gastric fever, etc., about. +The <i>hakeem</i> from Keneh has just been here—such a pleasing, +clever young man, speaking Italian perfectly, and French extremely well. +He is the son of some fellah of Lower Egypt, sent to study at Pisa, +and has not lost the Arab gentility and elegance by a <i>Frenghi</i> +education. We fraternized greatly, and the young <i>hakeem</i> +was delighted at my love for his people, and my high opinion of their +intelligence. He is now gone to inspect the sick, and is to see +me again and give me directions. He was very unhappy that he could +not supply me with medicines; none are to be bought above Cairo, except +from the hospital doctors, who sell the medicines of the Government, +as the Italian at Siout did. But Ali Effendi is too honest for +that. The old bishop paid me a visit of three and a half hours +yesterday, and <i>pour me tirer une carotte</i> he sent me a loaf of +sugar, so I must send a present ‘for the church’ to be consumed +in raki. The old party was not very sober, and asked for wine. +I coolly told him it was <i>haraam</i> (forbidden) to us to drink during +the day—only with our dinner. I never will give the Christians +drink here, and now they have left off pressing me to drink spirits +at their houses. The bishop offered to alter the hour of prayer +for me, and to let me into the <i>Heykel</i> (where women must not go) +on Good Friday, which will be eighteen days hence. All of which +I refused, and said I would go on the roof of the church and look down +through the window with the other <i>Hareemat</i>. Omar kissed +the bishop’s hand, and I said: ‘What! do <i>you</i> kiss +his hand like a Copt?’ ‘Oh yes, he is an old man, +and a servant of my God, but dreadful dirty,’ added Omar; and +it was too true. His presence diffused a fearful monastic odour +of sanctity. A Bishop must be a monk, as priests are married.</p> +<p><i>Monday</i>.—To-day Ali Effendi-<i>el-Hakeem</i> came to +tell me how he had been to try to see my patients and failed; all the +families declared they were well and would not let him in. Such +is the deep distrust of everything to do with the Government. +They all waited till he was gone away, and then came again to me with +their ailments. I scolded, and they all said, ‘<i>Wallah, +ya Sitt, ya Emeereh</i>; that is the <i>Hakeem</i> Pasha, and he would +send us off to hospital at Keneh, and then they would poison us; by +thy eyes do not be angry with us, or leave off from having compassion +on us on this account.’ I said, ‘Ali Effendi is an +Arab and a Muslim and an <i>Emeer</i> (gentleman), and he gave me good +advice, and would have given more,’ etc. No use at all. +He is the Government doctor, and they had rather die, and will swallow +anything from <i>el-Sittee Noor-ala-Noor</i>. Here is a pretty +state of things.</p> +<p>I gave Sheykh Yussuf £4 for three months’ daily lessons +last night, and had quite a contest to force it upon him. ‘It +is not for money, oh Lady;’ and he coloured crimson. He +had been about with Ali Effendi, but could not get the people to see +him. The Copts, I find, <i>have</i> a religious prejudice against +him, and, indeed, against all heretics. They consider themselves +and the Abyssinians as the only true believers. If they acknowledge +<i>us</i> as brethren, it is for money. I speak only of the low +class, and of the priests; of course the educated merchants are very +different. I had two priests and two deacons, and the mother of +one, here to-day for physic for the woman. She was very pretty +and pleasing; miserably reduced and weak from the long fast. I +told her she must eat meat and drink a little wine, and take cold baths, +and gave her quinine. She will take the wine and the quinine, +but neither eat nor wash. The Bishop tells them they will die +if they break the fast, and half the Christians are ill from it. +One of the priests spoke a little English; he fabricates false antiques +very cleverly, and is tolerably sharp; but, Oh <i>mon Dieu</i>, it is +enough to make one turn Muslim to compare these greasy rogues with such +high-minded charitable <i>shurafa</i> (noblemen) as Abd-el-Waris and +Sheykh Yussuf. A sweet little Copt boy who is very ill will be +killed by the stupid bigotry about the fast. My friend Suleyman +is much put out, and backs my exhortations to the sick to break it. +He is a capital fellow, and very intelligent, and he and Omar are like +brothers; it is the priests who do all they can to keep alive religious +prejudice. <i>Alhamdulillah</i>, they are only partially successful. +Mohammed has just heard that seventy-five head of cattle are dead at +El-Moutaneh. Here only a few have died as yet, and Ali Effendi +thinks the disease less virulent than in Lower Egypt. I hope he +is right; but dead beasts float down the river all day long.</p> +<p>To turn to something more amusing—but please don’t tell +it—such a joke against my gray hairs. I have had a proposal, +or at least an attempt at one. A very handsome Sheykh-el-Arab +(<i>Bedawee</i>) was here for a bit, and asked Omar whether I were a +widow or divorced, as in either case he would send a <i>dellaleh</i> +(marriage brokeress) to me. Omar told him that would never do. +I had a husband in England; besides, I was not young, had a married +daughter, my hair was gray, etc. The Sheykh swore he didn’t +care; I could dye my hair and get a divorce; that I was not like stupid +modern women, but like an ancient Arab <i>Emeereh</i>, and worthy of +Antar or Abou Zeyd—a woman for whom men killed each other or themselves—and +he would pay all he could afford as my dowry. Omar came in in +fits of laughter at the idea, and the difficulty he had had in stopping +the <i>dellaleh’s</i> visit. He told the Sheykh I should +certainly beat her I should be so offended. The disregard of differences +of age here on marriage is very strange. My adorer was not more +than thirty, I am sure. Don’t tell people, my dear Alick; +it is so very absurd; I should be ‘ashamed before the people.’</p> +<p><i>Saturday</i>, <i>April</i> 23.—<i>Alhamdulillah</i>! the +sickness is going off. I have just heard Suleyman’s report +as follows: Hassan Abou-Achmet kisses the Emeereh’s feet, and +the bullets have cleaned his stomach six times, and he has said the +<i>Fathah</i> for the Lady. The two little girls who had diarrhœa +are well. The Christian dyer has vomited his powder and wants +another. The mother of the Christian cook who married the priest’s +sister has got dysentery. The hareem of Mustapha Abou-Abeyd has +two children with bad eyes. The Bishop had a quarrel, and scolded +and fell down, and cannot speak or move; I must go to him. The +young-deacon’s jaundice is better. The slave girl of Kursheed +A’gha is sick, and Kursheed is sitting at her head in tears; the +women say I must go to her, too. Kursheed is a fine young Turk, +and very good to his <i>Hareemat</i>. That is all; Suleyman has +nothing on earth to do, and brings me a daily report; he likes the gossip +and the importance.</p> +<p>The reis of a cargo-boat brought me up your Lafontaine, and some +papers and books from Hekekian Bey. Sheykh Yussuf is going down +to Cairo, to try to get back some of the lands which Mahommed Ali took +away from the mosques and the Ulema without compensation. He asked +me whether Ross would speak for him to Effendina! What are the +Muslimeen coming to? As soon as I can read enough he offers to +read in the Koran with me—a most unusual proceeding, as the ‘noble +Koran’ is not generally put into the hands of heretics; but my +‘charity to the people in sickness’ is looked upon by Abd-el-Waris +the Imam, and by Yussuf, as a proof that I have ‘received direction,’ +and am of those Christians of whom <i>Seyyidna</i> Mohammed (upon whose +name be peace) has said ‘that they have no pride, that they rival +each other in good works, and that God will increase their reward.’ +There is no <i>arrière pensée</i> of conversion that they +think hopeless, but charity covers all sins with Muslimeen. Next +Friday is the <i>Djuma el-Kebeer</i> (Good Friday) with the Copts, and +the prayers are in the daytime, so I shall go to the church. Next +moon is the great Bairam, <i>el-Eed el-Kebeer</i> (the great festival), +with the Muslimeen—the commemoration of the sacrifice of Isaac +or Ishmael (commentators are uncertain which)—and Omar will kill +a sheep for the poor for the benefit of his baby, according to custom. +I have at length compassed the destruction of mine enemy, though he +has not written a book. A fanatical Christian dog (quadruped), +belonging to the Coptic family who live on the opposite side of the +yard, hated me with such virulent intensity that, not content with barking +at me all day, he howled at me all night, even after I had put out the +lantern and he could not see me in bed. Sentence of death has +been recorded against him, as he could not be beaten into toleration. +Michaïl, his master’s son, has just come down from El-Moutaneh, +where he is <i>vakeel</i> to M. Mounier. He gives a fearful account +of the sickness there among men and cattle—eight and ten deaths +a day; here we have had only four a day, at the worst, in a population +of (I guess) some 2,000. The Mouniers have put themselves in quarantine, +and allow no one to approach their house, as Mustapha wanted me to do. +One hundred and fifty head of cattle have died at El-Moutaneh; here +only a few calves are dead, but as yet no full-grown beasts, and the +people are healthy again. I really think I did some service by +not showing any fear, and Omar behaved manfully. By-the-by, will +you find out whether a <i>passaporto</i>, as they call it, a paper granting +British protection, can be granted in England. It is the object +of Omar’s highest ambition to belong as much as possible to the +English, and feel safe from being forced to serve a Turk. If it +can be done by any coaxing and jobbing, pray do it, for Omar deserves +any service I can render him in return for all his devotion and fidelity. +Someone tried to put it into his head that it was <i>haraam</i> to be +too fond of us heretics and be faithful, but he consulted Sheykh Yussuf, +who promised him a reward hereafter for good conduct to me, and who +told me of it as a good joke, adding that he was <i>raghil ameen</i>, +the highest praise for fidelity, the sobriquet of the Prophet. +Do not be surprised at my lack of conscience in desiring to benefit +my own follower <i>in qualunque modo</i>; justice is not of Eastern +growth, and <i>Europeo</i> is ‘your only wear,’ and here +it is only base not to stick by one’s friends. Omar kisses +the hands of the <i>Sidi-el-Kebeer</i> (the great master), and desires +his best salaam to the little master and the little lady, whose servant +he is. He asks if I, too, do not kiss Iskender Bey’s hand +in my letter, as I ought to do as his Hareem, or whether ‘I make +myself big before my master,’ like some French ladies he has seen? +I tell him I will do so if Iskender Bey will get him his <i>warak</i> +(paper), whereupon he picks up the hem of my gown and kisses that, and +I civilly expostulate on such condescension to a woman. Yussuf +is quite puzzled about European women, and a little shocked at the want +of respect to their husbands they display. I told him that the +outward respect shown to us by our men was <i>our veil</i>, and explained +how superficial the difference was. He fancied that the law gave +us the upper hand. Omar reports yesterday’s sermon ‘on +toleration,’ it appears. Yussuf took the text of ‘Thou +shalt love thy brother as thyself, and never act towards him but as +thou wouldest he should act towards thee.’ I forget chapter +and verse; but it seems he took the bull by the horns and declared <i>all +men</i> to be brothers, not Muslimeen only, and desired his congregation +to look at the good deeds of others and not at their erroneous faith, +for God is all-knowing (<i>i.e</i>., He only knows the heart), and if +they saw aught amiss to remember that the best man need say <i>Astafer +Allah</i> (I beg pardon of God) seven times a day.</p> +<p>I wish the English could know how unpleasant and mischievous their +manner of talking to their servants about religion is. Omar confided +to me how bad it felt to be questioned, and then to see the Englishman +laugh or put up his lip and say nothing. ‘I don’t +want to talk about his religion at all, but if he talks about mine he +ought to speak of his own, too. You, my Lady, say, when I tell +you things, that is the same with us, or that is different, or good, +or not good in your mind, and that is the proper way, not to look like +thinking “all nonsense.”’</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Esneh</span>,<br /> +<i>Saturday</i>, <i>April</i> 30.</p> +<p>On Thursday evening as I was dreamily sitting on my divan, who should +walk in but Arthur Taylor, on his way, all alone in a big dahabieh, +to Edfou. So I offered to go too, whereupon he said he would go +on to Assouan and see Philæ as he had company, and we went off +to Mustapha to make a bargain with his Reis for it; thus then here we +are at Esneh. I embarked on Wednesday evening, and we have been +two days <i>en route</i>. Yesterday we had the thermometer at +110; I was the only person awake all day in the boat. Omar, after +cooking, lay panting at my feet on the deck. Arthur went fairly +to bed in the cabin; ditto Sally. All the crew slept on the deck. +Omar cooked amphibiously, bathing between every meal. The silence +of noon with the <i>white heat</i> glowing on the river which flowed +like liquid tin, and the silent Nubian rough boats floating down without +a ripple, was magnificent and really awful. Not a breath of wind +as we lay under the lofty bank. The Nile is not quite so low, +and I see a very different scene from last year. People think +us crazy to go up to Assouan in May, but I do enjoy it, and I really +wanted to forget all the sickness and sorrow in which I have taken part. +When I went to Mustapha’s he said Sheykh Yussuf was ill, and I +said ‘Then I won’t go.’ But Yussuf came in with +a sick headache only. Mustapha repeated my words to him, and never +did I see such a lovely expression in a human face as that with which +Yussuf said <i>Eh, ya Sitt</i>! Mustapha laughed, and told him +to thank me, and Yussuf turned to me and said, in a low voice, ‘my +sister does not need thanks, save from God.’ Fancy a Shereef, +one of the Ulema, calling a <i>Frengeeyeh</i> ‘sister’! +His pretty little girl came in and played with me, and he offered her +to me for Maurice. I cured Kursheed’s Abyssinian slave-girl. +You would have laughed to see him obeying my directions, and wiping +his eyes on his gold-embroidered sleeve. And then the Coptic priest +came for me for his wife who was ill. He was in a great quandary, +because, if she died, he, as a priest, could never marry again, as he +loudly lamented before her; but he was truly grieved, and I was very +happy to leave her convalescent.</p> +<p>Verily we are sorely visited. The dead cattle float down by +thousands. M. Mounier buried a thousand at El-Moutaneh alone, +and lost forty men. I would not have left Luxor, but there were +no new cases for four days before, and the worst had been over for full +ten days. Two or three poor people brought me new bread and vegetables +to the boat when they saw me going, and Yussuf came down and sat with +us all the evening, and looked quite sad. Omar asked him why, +and he said it made him think how it would seem when ‘<i>Inshallah</i> +should be well and should leave my place empty at Luxor and go back +with the blessing of God to my own place and to my own people.’ +Whereupon Omar grew quite sentimental too, and nearly cried. I +don’t know how Arthur would have managed without us, for he had +come with two Frenchmen who had proper servants and who left the boat +at Girgeh, and he has a wretched little dirty idiotic Coptic tailor +as a servant, who can’t even sew on a button. It is becoming +quite a calamity about servants here. Arthur tells me that men, +not fit to light Omar’s pipe, asked him £10 a month in Cairo +and would not take less, and he gives his Copt £4. I really +feel as if I were cheating Omar to let him stay on for £3; but +if I say anything he kisses my hand and tells me ‘not to be cross.’</p> +<p>I have letters from Yussuf to people at Assouan. If I want +anything I am to call on the Kadee. We have a very excellent boat +and a good crew, and are very comfortable. When the Luxor folk +heard the ‘son of my uncle’ was come, they thought it must +be my husband. I was diverted at Omar’s propriety. +He pointed out to Mustapha and Yussuf how <i>he</i> was to sleep in +the cabin between Arthur’s and mine, which was considered quite +satisfactory apparently, and it was looked upon as very proper of Omar +to have arranged it so, as he had been sent to put the boat in order. +Arthur has been all along the Suez Canal, and seen a great many curious +things. The Delta must be very unlike Upper Egypt from all he +tells me. The little troop of pilgrims for Mecca left Luxor about +ten days ago. It was a pretty and touching sight. Three +camels, five donkeys, and about thirty men and women, several with babies +on their shoulders, all uttering the <i>zaghareet</i> (cry of joy). +They were to walk to Koseir (eight days’ journey with good camels), +babies and all. It is the happiest day of their lives, they say, +when they have scraped together money enough to make the <i>hajj</i>.</p> +<p>This minute a poor man is weeping beside our boat over a pretty heifer +decked with many <i>hegabs</i> (amulets), which have not availed against +the sickness. It is heart-rending to see the poor beasts and their +unfortunate owners. Some dancing girls came to the boat just now +for cigars which Arthur had promised them, and to ask after their friend +el Maghribeeyeh, the good dancer at Luxor, whom they said was very ill. +Omar did not know at all about her, and the girls seemed much distressed. +They were both very pretty, one an Abyssinian. I must leave off +to send this to the post; it will cost a fortune, but you won’t +grudge it.</p> +<h3>May 15, 1864: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>May</i> 15, 1864,<br /> +<i>Day before Eed-el-Kebir</i><br /> +(<i>Bairam</i>).</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>We returned to Luxor the evening before last just after dark. +The salute which Omar fired with your old horse-pistols brought down +a lot of people, and there was a chorus of <i>Alhamdulilah Salaameh +ya Sitt</i>, and such a kissing of hands, and ‘Welcome home to +your place’ and ‘We have tasted your absence and found it +bitter,’ etc., etc. Mustapha came with letters for me, and +Yussuf beaming with smiles, and Mahommed with new bread made of new +wheat, and Suleyman with flowers, and little Achmet rushing in wildly +to kiss hands. When the welcome had subsided, Yussuf, who stayed +to tea, told me all the cattle were dead. Mustapha lost thirty-four, +and has three left; and poor farmer Omar lost all—forty head. +The distress in Upper Egypt will now be fearful. Within six weeks +<i>all</i> our cattle are dead. They are threshing the corn with +donkeys, and men are turning the sakiahs (water-wheels) and drawing +the ploughs, and dying by scores of overwork and want of food in many +places. The whole agriculture depended on the oxen, and they are +all dead. At El-Moutaneh and the nine villages round Halim Pasha’s +estate 24,000 head have died; four beasts were left when we were there +three days ago.</p> +<p>We spent two days and nights at Philæ and <i>Wallahy</i>! it +was hot. The basalt rocks which enclose the river all round the +island were burning. Sally and I slept in the Osiris chamber, +on the roof of the temple, on our air-beds. Omar lay across the +doorway to guard us, and Arthur and his Copt, with the well-bred sailor +Ramadan, were sent to bivouac on the Pylon. Ramadan took the hareem +under his special and most respectful charge, and waited on us devotedly, +but never raised his eyes to our faces, or spoke till spoken to. +Philæ is six or seven miles from Assouan, and we went on donkeys +through the beautiful Shellaleeh (the village of the cataract), and +the noble place of tombs of Assouan. Great was the amazement of +everyone at seeing Europeans so out of season; we were like swallows +in January to them. I could not sleep for the heat in the room, +and threw on an <i>abbayeh</i> (cloak) and went and lay on the parapet +of the temple. What a night! What a lovely view! The +stars gave as much light as the moon in Europe, and all but the cataract +was still as death and glowing hot, and the palm-trees were more graceful +and dreamy than ever. Then Omar woke, and came and sat at my feet, +and rubbed them, and sang a song of a Turkish slave. I said, ‘Do +not rub my feet, oh brother—that is not fit for thee’ (because +it is below the dignity of a free Muslim altogether to touch shoes or +feet), but he sang in his song, ‘The slave of the Turk may be +set free by money, but how shall one be ransomed who has been paid for +by kind actions and sweet words?’ Then the day broke deep +crimson, and I went down and bathed in the Nile, and saw the girls on +the island opposite in their summer fashions, consisting of a leathern +fringe round their slender hips—divinely graceful—bearing +huge saucer-shaped baskets of corn on their stately young heads; and +I went up and sat at the end of the colonnade looking up into Ethiopia, +and dreamed dreams of ‘Him who sleeps in Philæ,’ until +the great Amun Ra kissed my northern face too hotly, and drove me into +the temple to breakfast, and coffee, and pipes, and <i>kief</i>. +And in the evening three little naked Nubians rowed us about for two +or three hours on the glorious river in a boat made of thousands of +bits of wood, each a foot long; and between whiles they jumped overboard +and disappeared, and came up on the other side of the boat. Assouan +was full of Turkish soldiers, who came and took away our donkeys, and +stared at our faces most irreligiously. I did not go on shore +at Kom Ombos or El Kab, only at Edfou, where we spent the day in the +temple; and at Esneh, where we tried to buy sugar, tobacco, etc., and +found nothing at all, though Esneh is a <i>chef-lieu</i>, with a Moudir. +It is only in winter that anything is to be got for the travellers. +We had to ask the Nazir in Edfou to <i>order</i> a man to sell us charcoal. +People do without sugar, and smoke green tobacco, and eat beans, etc., +etc. Soon we must do likewise, for our stores are nearly exhausted.</p> +<p>We stopped at El-Moutaneh, and had a good dinner in the Mouniers’ +handsome house, and they gave me a loaf of sugar. Mme. Mounier +described Rachel’s stay with them for three months at Luxor, in +my house, where they then lived. She hated it so, that on embarking +to leave she turned back and spat on the ground, and cursed the place +inhabited by savages, where she had been <i>ennuyée a mort</i>. +Mme. Mounier fully sympathized with her, and thought no <i>femme aimable</i> +could live with Arabs, who are not at all <i>galants</i>. She +is Levantine, and, I believe, half Arab herself, but hates the life +here, and hates the Muslims. As I write this I laugh to think +of <i>galanterie</i> and <i>Arab</i> in one sentence, and glance at +‘my brother’ Yussuf, who is sleeping on a mat, quite overcome +with the Simoom (which is blowing) and the fast which he is keeping +to-day, as the eve of the <i>Eed-el-Kebir</i> (great festival). +This is the coolest place in the village. The glass is only 95½° +now (eleven a.m.) in the darkened divan. The Kadee, and the Maōhn, +and Yussuf came together to visit me, and when the others left he lay +down to sleep. Omar is sleeping in the passage, and Sally in her +room. I alone don’t sleep—but the Simoom is terrible. +Arthur runs about all day, sight-seeing and drawing, and does not suffer +at all from the heat. I can’t walk now, as the sand blisters +my feet.</p> +<p><i>Tuesday</i>, <i>May</i> 17.—Yesterday the Simoom was awful, +and last night I slept on the terrace, and was very hot. To-day +the north wind sprang up at noon and revived us, though it is still +102° in my divan. My old ‘great-grandfather’ has +come in for a pipe and coffee; he was Belzoni’s guide, and his +eldest child was born seven days before the French under Bonaparte marched +into Luxor. He is superbly handsome and erect, and very talkative, +but only remembers old times, and takes me for Mme. Belzoni. He +is grandfather to Mahommed, the guard of this house, and great-grandfather +to my little Achmet. His grandsons have married him to a tidy +old woman to take care of him; he calls me ‘My lady grand-daughter,’ +and Omar he calls ‘Mustapha,’ and we salute him as ‘grandfather.’ +I wish I could paint him; he is so grand to look at. Old Mustapha +had a son born yesterday—his tenth child. I must go and +wish him joy, after which I will go to Arthur’s boat and have +a bathe; the sailors rig me out a capital awning. We had a good +boat, and a capital crew; one man Mahommed, called Alatee (the singer), +sang beautifully, to my great delight, and all were excellent fellows, +quiet and obliging; only his servant was a lazy beast, dirty and conceited—a +Copt, spoiled by an Italian education and Greek associates, thinking +himself very grand because he was a Christian. I wondered at the +patience and good-nature with which Omar did all his work and endured +all his insolence. There was one stupendous row at Assouan, however. +The men had rigged out a sort of tent for me to bathe in over the side +of the boat, and Ramadan caught the Copt trying to peep in, and half +strangled him. Omar called him ‘dog,’ and asked him +if he was an infidel, and Macarius told him I was a Christian woman, +and not <i>his Hareem</i>. Omar lost his temper, and appealed +to the old reis and all the sailors, ‘O Muslims, ought not I to +cut his throat if he had defiled the noble person of the lady with his +pig’s eyes? God forgive me for mentioning her in such a +manner.’ Then they all cursed him for a pig and an infidel, +and threatened to put him ashore and leave him for his vile conduct +towards noble <i>Hareem</i>. Omar sobbed with passion, saying +that I was to him like the ‘back of his mother,’ and how +‘dare Macarius take my name in his dirty mouth,’ etc. +The Copt tried to complain of being beaten afterwards, but I signified +to him that he had better hold his tongue, for that I understood Arabic, +upon which he sneaked off.</p> +<h3>May 23, 1864: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>Monday</i>, <i>May</i> 23, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I meant to have written to you by Arthur Taylor, who left for Cairo +yesterday morning, but the Simoom made me so stupid that I could hardly +finish a letter to Alick. So I begin one to-day to recount the +wonders of the season here. I went over to Mustapha’s island +to spend the day in the tent, or rather the hut, of dourrah-stalks and +palm-branches, which he has erected there for the threshing and winnowing. +He had invited me and ‘his worship’ the Maōhn to a +picnic. Only imagine that it <i>rained</i>! all day, a gentle +slight rain, but enough to wet all the desert. I laughed and said +I had brought English weather, but the Maōhn shook his head and +opined that we were suffering the anger of God. Rain in summer-time +was quite a terror. However, we consoled ourselves, and Mustapha +called a nice little boy to recite the ‘noble Koran’ for +our amusement, and out of compliment to me he selected the chapter of +the family of Amran (the history of Jesus), and recited it with marvellous +readiness and accuracy. A very pleasant-mannered man of the Shourafa +of Gurneh came and joined us, and was delighted because I sent away +a pipe which Abdurachman brought me (it is highly improper to smoke +while the Koran is being read or recited). He thanked me for the +respect, and I told him I knew he would not smoke in a church, or while +I prayed; why should I? It rather annoys me to find that they +always expect from us irreverence to their religion which they would +on no account be guilty of to ours. The little boy was a <i>fellah</i>, +the child of my friend Omar, who has lost all his cattle, but who came +as pleasant and smiling as ever to kiss my hand and wait upon me. +After that the Maōhn read the second chapter, ‘the Cow,’ +in a rather nasal, quavering chant. I perceived that no one present +understood any of it, except just a few words here and there—not +much more than I could follow myself from having read the translation. +I think it is not any nearer spoken Arabic than Latin is to Italian. +After this, Mustapha, the Maōhn, Omar, Sally and I, sat down round +the dinner-tray, and had a very good dinner of lamb, fowls and vegetables, +such as bahmias and melucheeah, both of the mallow order, and both excellent +cooked with meat; rice, stewed apricots (mish-mish), with nuts and raisins +in it, and cucumbers and water-melons strewed the ground. One +eats all <i>durcheinander</i> with bread and fingers, and a spoon for +the rice, and green limes to squeeze over one’s own bits for sauce. +We were very merry, if not very witty, and the Maōhn declared, +‘<i>Wallahi</i>! the English are fortunate in their customs, and +in the enjoyment of the society of learned and excellent <i>Hareemat</i>;’ +and Omar, lying on the rushes, said: ‘This is the happiness of +the Arab. Green trees, sweet water, and a kind face, make the +“garden”’ (paradise), an Arab saying. The Maōhn +joked him as to how a ‘child of Cairo’ could endure <i>fellah</i> +life. I was looking at the heaps of wheat and thinking of Ruth, +when I started to hear the soft Egyptian lips utter the very words which +the Egyptian girl spake more than a thousand years ago: ‘Behold +my mother! where she stays I stay, and where she goes I will go; her +family is my family, and if it pleaseth God, nothing but the Separator +of friends (death) shall divide me from her.’ I really could +not speak, so I kissed the top of Omar’s turban, Arab fashion, +and the Maōhn blessed him quite solemnly, and said: ‘God +reward thee, my son; thou hast honoured thy lady greatly before thy +people, and she has honoured thee, and ye are an example of masters +and servants, and of kindness and fidelity;’ and the brown labourers +who were lounging about said: ‘Verily, it is true, and God be +praised for people of excellent conduct.’ I never expected +to feel like Naomi, and possibly many English people might only think +Omar’s unconscious repetition of Ruth’s words rather absurd, +but to me they sounded in perfect harmony with the life and ways of +this country and these people, who are so full of tender and affectionate +feelings, when they have not been crushed out of them. It is not +humbug; I have seen their actions. Because they use grand compliments, +Europeans think they are never sincere, but the compliments are not +meant to deceive, they only profess to be forms. Why do the English +talk of the beautiful sentiment of the Bible and pretend to feel it +so much, and when they come and see the same life before them they ridicule +it.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/ill174b.jpg"> +<img alt="Omar, 1864, from a photograph" src="images/ill174s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p><i>Tuesday</i>.—We have a family quarrel going on. Mohammed’s +wife, a girl of eighteen or so, wanted to go home on Bairam day for +her mother to wash her head and unplait her hair. Mohammed told +her not to leave him on that day, and to send for a woman to do it for +her; whereupon she cut off her hair, and Mohammed, in a passion, told +her to ‘cover her face’ (that is equivalent to a divorce) +and take her baby and go home to her father’s house. Ever +since he has been mooning about the yard and in and out of the kitchen +very glum and silent. This morning I went into the kitchen and +found Omar cooking with a little baby in his arms, and giving it sugar. +‘Why what is that?’ say I. ‘Oh don’t say +anything. I sent Achmet to fetch Mohammed’s baby, and when +he comes here he will see it, and then in talking I can say so and so, +and how the man must be good to the <i>Hareem</i>, and what this poor, +small girl do when she big enough to ask for her father.’ +In short, Omar wants to exercise his diplomacy in making up the quarrel. +After writing this I heard Mohammed’s low, quiet voice, and Omar’s +boyish laugh, and then silence, and went to see the baby and its father. +My kitchen was a pretty scene. Mohammed, in his ample brown robes +and white turban, lay asleep on the floor with the baby’s tiny +pale face and little eyelids stained with kohl against his coffee-brown +cheek, both fast asleep, baby in her father’s arms. Omar +leant against the <i>fournaise</i> in his house-dress, a white shirt +open at the throat and white drawers reaching to the knees, with the +red tarboosh and red and yellow <i>kufyeh</i> (silk handkerchief) round +it turban-wise, contemplating them with his great, soft eyes. +The two young men made an excellent contrast between Upper and Lower +Egypt. Mohammed is the true Arab type—coffee-brown, thin, +spare, sharp-featured, elegant hands and feet, bright glittering small +eyes and angular jaw—not a handsome Arab, but <i>bien charactérisé</i>. +Omar, the colour of new boxwood or old ivory, pale, with eyes like a +cow, full lips, full chin and short nose, not the least negro, but perfectly +Egyptian, the eyes wide apart—unlike the Arab—moustache +like a woman’s eyebrow, curly brown hair, bad hands and feet and +not well made, but graceful in movement and still more in countenance, +very inferior in beauty to the pure Arab blood which prevails here, +but most sweet in expression. He is a true <i>Akh-ul-Benât</i> +(brother of girls), and truly chivalrous to <i>Hareem</i>. How +astonished Europeans would be to hear Omar’s real opinion of their +conduct to women. He mentioned some Englishman who had divorced +his wife and made her frailty public. You should have seen him +spit on the floor in abhorrence. Here it is quite blackguard not +to forfeit the money and take all the blame in a divorce.</p> +<p><i>Friday</i>.—We have had better weather again, easterly wind +and pretty cool, and I am losing the cough and languor which the damp +of the Simoom brought me. Sheykh Yussuf has just come back from +Keneh, whither he and the Kadee went on their donkeys for some law business. +He took our saddle bags at Omar’s request, and brought us back +a few pounds of sugar and some rice and tobacco (isn’t it like +Fielding’s novels?). It is two days’ journey, so they +slept in the mosque at Koos half way. I told Yussuf how Suleyman’s +child has the smallpox and how Mohammed only said it was <i>Min Allah</i> +(from God) when I suggested that his baby should be vaccinated at once. +Yussuf called him in and said: ‘Oh man, when thou wouldst build +a house dost thou throw the bricks in a heap on the ground and say the +building thereof is from God, or dost thou use the brains and hands +which God has given thee, and then pray to Him to bless thy work? +In all things do the best of thy understanding and means, and then say +<i>Min Allah</i>, for the end is with Him!’ There is not +a pin to choose in fatalism here between Muslim and Christian, the lazy, +like Mohammed and Suleyman (one Arab the other Copt), say <i>Min Allah</i> +or any form of dawdle you please; but the true Muslim doctrine is just +what Yussuf laid down—‘do all you can and be resigned to +whatever be the result.’ <i>Fais ce que dois advienne qui +pourra</i> is good doctrine. In fact, I am very much puzzled to +discover the slightest difference between Christian and Muslim morality +or belief—if you exclude certain dogmas—and in fact, very +little is felt here. No one attempts to apply different standards +of morals or of piety to a Muslim and a Copt. East and West is +the difference, not Muslim and Christian. As to that difference +I could tell volumes. Are they worse? Are they better? +Both and neither. I am, perhaps, not quite impartial, because +I am <i>sympathique</i> to the Arabs and they to me, and I am inclined +to be ‘kind’ to their virtues if not ‘blind’ +to their faults, which are visible to the most inexperienced traveller. +You see all our own familiar ‘bunkum’ (excuse the vulgarity) +falls so flat on their ears, bravado about ‘honour,’ ‘veracity,’ +etc., etc., they look blank and bored at. The schoolboy morality +as set forth by Maurice is current here among grown men. Of course +we tell lies to Pashas and Beys, why shouldn’t we? But shall +I call in that ragged sailor and give him an order to bring me up £500 +in cash from Cairo when he happens to come? It would not be an +unusual proceeding. I sleep every night in a <i>makaab</i> (sort +of verandah) open to all Luxor, and haven’t a door that has a +lock. They bother me for backsheesh; but oh how poor they are, +and how rich must be a woman whose very servants drink sugar to their +coffee! and who lives in the <i>Kasr</i> (palace) and is respectfully +visited by Ali Bey—and, come to that, Ali Bey would like a present +even better than the poorest fellah, who also loves to give one. +When I know, as I now do thoroughly, all Omar’s complete integrity—without +any sort of mention of it—his self-denial in going ragged and +shabby to save his money for his wife and child (a very great trial +to a good-looking young Arab), and the equally unostentatious love he +has shown to me, and the delicacy and real nobleness of feeling which +come out so oddly in the midst of sayings which, to our ideas, seem +very shabby and time-serving, very often I wonder if there be anything +as good in the civilized West. And as Sally most justly says, +‘All their goodness is quite their own. God knows there +is no one to teach anything but harm!’</p> +<p><i>Tuesday</i>.—Two poor fellows have just come home from the +Suez Canal work with gastric fever, I think. I hope it won’t +spread. The wife of one said to me yesterday, ‘Are there +more <i>Sittat</i> (ladies) like you in your village?’ ‘Wallah,’ +said I, ‘there are many better, and good doctors, Alhamdullillah!’ +‘Alhamdullillah,’ said she, ‘then the poor people +don’t want you so much, and by God you must stay here for <i>we</i> +can’t do without you, so write to your family to say so, and don’t +go away and leave us.’</p> +<p><i>Thursday</i>, <i>June</i> 2,—A steamer has just arrived +which will take this letter, so I can only say good-bye, my dearest +Mutter, and God bless you. I continue very fairly well. +The epidemic here is all but over; but my medical fame has spread so, +that the poor souls come twenty miles (from Koos) for physic. +The constant phrase of ‘Oh our sister, God hath sent thee to look +to us!’ is so sad. <i>Such</i> a little help is a wonder +to my poor fellaheen. It is not so hot as it was I think, except +at night, and I now sleep half the night outside the house. The +cattle are all dead; perhaps five are left in all Luxor. <i>Allah +kereem</i>! (God is merciful) said fellah Omar, ‘I have one left +from fifty-four.’ The grain is unthreshed, and butter three +shillings a pound! We get nothing here but by post; no papers, +no nothing. I suppose the high Nile will bring up boats. +Now the river is down at its lowest, and now I really know how Egyptians +live.</p> +<h3>June 12, 1864: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>Sunday</i>, <i>June</i> 12, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>Three letters have I received from you within a few days, for the +post of the Saeed is not that of the Medes and Persians. I have +had an abominable toothache, which quite floored me, and was aggravated +by the Oriental custom, namely, that all the <i>beau monde</i> of Thebes +<i>would</i> come and sit with me, and suggest remedies, and look into +my mouth, and make quite a business of my tooth. Sheykh Yussuf +laid two fingers on my cheek and recited verses from the Koran, I regret +to say with no effect, except that while his fingers touched me the +pain ceased. I find he <i>is</i> celebrated for soothing headaches +and other nervous pains, and I daresay is an unconscious mesmeriser. +The other day our poor Maōhn was terrified by a communication from +Ali Bey (Moudir of Keneh) to the effect that he had heard from Alexandria +that someone had reported that the dead cattle had lain about the streets +of Luxor and that the place was pestilential. The British mind +at once suggested a counter-statement, to be signed by the most respectable +inhabitants. So the Cadi drew it up, and came and read it to me, +and took my deposition and witnessed my signature, and the Maōhn +went his way rejoicing, in that ‘the words of the Englishwoman’ +would utterly defeat Ali Bey. The truth was that the worthy Maōhn +worked really hard, and superintended the horrible dead cattle business +in person, which is some risk and very unpleasant. To dispose +of three or four hundred dead oxen every day with a limited number of +labourers is no trifle, and if a travelling Englishman smells one a +mile off he calls us ‘lazy Arabs.’ The beasts could +not be buried deep enough, but all were carried a mile off from the +village. I wish some of the dilettanti who stop their noses at +us in our trouble had to see or to do what I have seen and done.</p> +<p><i>June</i> 17.—We have had four or five days of such fearful +heat with a Simoom that I have been quite knocked up, and literally +could not write. Besides, I sit in the dark all day, and am now +writing so—and at night go out and sit in the verandah, and can’t +have candles because of the insects. I sleep outside till about +six a.m., and then go indoors till dark again. This fortnight +is the hottest time. To-day the drop falls into the Nile at its +source, and it will now rise fast and cool the country. It has +risen one cubit, and the water is green; next month it will be blood +colour. My cough has been a little troublesome again, I suppose +from the Simoom. The tooth does not ache now. <i>Alhamdulillah</i>! +for I rather dreaded the <i>muzeyinn</i> (barber) with his <i>tongs</i>, +who is the sole dentist here. I was amused the other day by the +entrance of my friend the Maōhn, attended by Osman Effendi and +his cawass and pipe-bearer, and bearing a saucer in his hand, wearing +the look, half sheepish, half cocky, with which elderly gentlemen in +all countries announce what he did, <i>i.e</i>., that his black slave-girl +was three months with child and longed for olives, so the respectable +magistrate had trotted all over the bazaar and to the Greek corn-dealers +to buy some, but for no money were they to be had, so he hoped I might +have some and forgive the request, as I, of course, knew that a man +must beg or even steal for a woman under these circumstances. +I called Omar and said, ‘I trust there are olives for the honourable +Hareem of Seleem Effendi—they are needed there.’ Omar +instantly understood the case, and ‘Praise be to God a few are +left; I was about to stuff the pigeons for dinner with them; how lucky +I had not done it.’ And then we belaboured Seleem with compliments. +‘Please God the child will be fortunate to thee,’ say I. +Omar says, ‘Sweeten my mouth, oh Effendim, for did I not tell +thee God would give thee good out of this affair when thou boughtest +her?’ While we were thus rejoicing over the possible little +mulatto, I thought how shocked a white Christian gentleman of our Colonies +would be at our conduct to make all this fuss about a black girl—‘<i>he</i> +give her sixpence’ (under the same circumstances I mean) ‘he’d +see her d---d first,’ and my heart warmed to the kind old Muslim +sinner (?) as he took his saucer of olives and walked with them openly +in his hand along the street. Now the black girl is free, and +can only leave Seleem’s house by her own good will and probably +after a time she will marry and he will pay the expenses. A man +can’t sell his slave after he has made known that she is with +child by him, and it would be considered unmanly to detain her if she +should wish to go. The child will be added to the other eight +who fill the Maōhn’s quiver in Cairo and will be exactly +as well looked on and have equal rights if he is as black as a coal.</p> +<p>A most quaint little half-black boy a year and a half old has taken +a fancy to me and comes and sits for hours gazing at me and then dances +to amuse me. He is Mahommed our guard’s son by a jet-black +slave of his and is brown-black and very pretty. He wears a bit +of iron wire in one ear and iron rings round his ankles, and that is +all—and when he comes up little Achmet, who is his uncle, ‘makes +him fit to be seen’ by emptying a pitcher of water over his head +to rinse off the dust in which of course he has been rolling—that +is equivalent to a clean pinafore. You would want to buy little +Said I know, he is so pretty and so jolly. He dances and sings +and jabbers baby Arabic and then sits like a quaint little idol cross-legged +quite still for hours.</p> +<p>I am now writing in the kitchen, which is the coolest place where +there is any light at all. Omar is diligently spelling words of +six letters, with the wooden spoon in his hand and a cigarette in his +mouth, and Sally is lying on her back on the floor. I won’t +describe our costume. It is now two months since I have worn stockings, +and I think you would wonder at the fellaha who ‘owns you,’ +so deep a brown are my face, hands and feet. One of the sailors +in Arthur’s boat said: ‘See how the sun of the Arabs loves +her; he has kissed her so hotly that she can’t go home among English +people.’</p> +<p><i>June</i> 18.—I went last night to look at Karnac by moonlight. +The giant columns were overpowering. I never saw anything so solemn. +On our way back we met the Sheykh-el-Beled, who ordered me an escort +of ten men home. Fancy me on my humble donkey, guarded most superfluously +by ten tall fellows, with oh! such spears and venerable matchlocks. +At Mustapha’s house we found a party seated before the door, and +joined it. There was a tremendous Sheykh-el-Islam from Tunis, +a Maghribee, seated on a carpet in state receiving homage. I don’t +think he liked the heretical woman at all. Even the Maōhn +did not dare to be as ‘politeful’ as usual to me, but took +the seat above me, which I had respectfully left vacant next to the +holy man. Mustapha was in a stew, afraid not to do the respectful +to me, and fussing after the Sheykh. Then Yussuf came fresh from +the river, where he had bathed and prayed, and then you saw the real +gentleman. He salaamed the great Sheykh, who motioned to him to +sit before him, but Yussuf quietly came round and sat <i>below</i> me +on the mat, leaned his elbow on my cushion, and made more demonstration +of regard for me than ever, and when I went came and helped me on my +donkey. The holy Sheykh went away to pray, and Mustapha hinted +to Yussuf to go with him, but he only smiled, and did not stir; he had +prayed an hour before down at the Nile. It was as if a poor curate +had devoted himself to a rank papist under the eye of a scowling Shaftesbury +Bishop. Then came Osman Effendi, a young Turk, with a poor devil +accused in a distant village of stealing a letter with money in it addressed +to a Greek money-lender. The discussion was quite general, the +man, of course, denying all. But the Nazir had sent word to beat +him. Then Omar burst out, ‘What a shame to beat a poor man +on the mere word of a Greek money-lender who eats the people; the Nazir +shouldn’t help him.’ There was a Greek present who +scowled at Omar, and the Turk gaped at him in horror. Yussuf said, +with his quiet smile, ‘My brother, thou art talking English,’ +with a glance at me; and we all laughed, and I said, ‘Many thanks +for the compliment.’ All the village is in good spirits; +the Nile is rising fast, and a star of most fortunate character has +made its appearance, so Yussuf tells me, and portends a good year and +an end to our afflictions. I am much better to-day, and I think +I too feel the rising Nile; it puts new life into all things. +The last fortnight or three weeks have been very trying with the Simoom +and intense heat. I suppose I look better for the people here +are for ever praising God about my amended looks. I am too hot, +and it is too dark to write more.</p> +<h3>June 26, 1864: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>June</i> 26, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I have just paid a singular visit to a political <i>detenu</i> or +exile rather. Last night Mustapha came in with a man in great +grief who said his boy was very ill on board a cangia just come from +Cairo and going to Assouan. The watchman on the river-bank had +told him that there was an English Sitt ‘who would not turn her +face from anyone in trouble’ and advised him to come to me for +medicine, so he went to Mustapha and begged him to bring him to me, +and to beg the cawass (policeman) in charge of El-Bedrawee (who was +being sent to Fazoghlou in banishment) to wait a few hours. The +cawass (may he not suffer for his humanity) consented. He described +his boy’s symptoms and I gave him a dose of castor oil and said +I would go to the boat in the morning. The poor fellow was a Cairo +merchant but living at Khartoum, he poured out his sorrow in true Eastern +style. ‘Oh my boy, and I have none but he, and how shall +I come before his mother, a Habbesheeyeh, oh Lady, and tell her “thy +son is dead”?’ So I said, ‘<i>Allah kereem ya +Seedee</i>, and <i>Inshallah tayib</i>,’ etc., etc., and went +this morning early to the boat. It was a regular old Arab cangia +lumbered up with corn, sacks of matting, a live sheep, etc., and there +I found a sweet graceful boy of fifteen or so in a high fever. +His father said he had visited a certain Pasha on the way and evidently +meant that he had been poisoned or had the evil eye. I assured +him it was only the epidemic and asked why he had not sent for the doctor +at Keneh. The old story! He was afraid, ‘God knows +what a government doctor might do to the boy.’ Then Omar +came in and stood before El-Bedrawee and said, ‘Oh my master, +why do we see thee thus? Mashallah, I once ate of thy bread when +I was of the soldiers of Said Pasha, and I saw thy riches and thy greatness, +and what has God decreed against thee?’ So El-Bedrawee who +is (or was) one of the wealthiest men of Lower Egypt and lived at Tantah, +related how Effendina (Ismail Pasha) sent for him to go to Cairo to +the Citadel to transact some business, and how he rode his horse up +to the Citadel and went in, and there the Pasha at once ordered a cawass +to take him down to the Nile and on board a common cargo boat and to +go with him and take him to Fazoghlou. Letters were given to the +cawass to deliver to every Moudir on the way, and another despatched +by hand to the Governor of Fazoghlou with orders concerning El-Bedrawee. +He begged leave to see his son once more before starting, or any of +his family. ‘No, he must go at once and see no one.’ +But luckily a fellah, one of his relations had come after him to Cairo +and had £700 in his girdle; he followed El-Bedrawee to the Citadel +and saw him being walked off by the cawass and followed him to the river +and on board the boat and gave him the £700 which he had in his +girdle. The various Moudirs had been civil to him, and friends +in various places had given him clothes and food. He had not got +a chain round his neck or fetters, and was allowed to go ashore with +the cawass, for he had just been to the tomb of Abou-l-Hajjaj and had +told that dead Sheykh all his affliction and promised, if he came back +safe, to come every year to his <i>moolid</i> (festival) and pay the +whole expenses (<i>i.e</i>. feed all comers). Mustapha wanted +him to dine with him and me, but the cawass could not allow it, so Mustapha +sent him a fine sheep and some bread, fruit, etc. I made him a +present of some quinine, rhubarb pills, and sulphate of zinc for eye +lotion. Here you know we all go upon a more than English presumption +and believe every prisoner to be innocent and a victim—as he gets +no trial he <i>never</i> can be proved guilty—besides poor old +El-Bedrawee declared he had not the faintest idea what he was accused +of or how he had offended Effendina.</p> +<p>I listened to all this in extreme amazement, and he said, ‘Ah! +I know you English manage things very differently; I have heard all +about your excellent justice.’</p> +<p>He was a stout, dignified-looking fair man, like a Turk, but talking +broad Lower Egypt fellah talk, so that I could not understand him, and +had to get Mustapha and Omar to repeat his words. His father was +an Arab, and his mother a Circassian slave, which gave the fair skin +and reddish beard. He must be over fifty, fat and not healthy; +of course he is <i>meant</i> to die up in Fazoghlou, especially going +at this season. He owns (or owned, for God knows who has it now) +12,000 feddans of fine land between Tantah and Samanhoud, and was enormously +rich. He consulted me a great deal about his health, and I gave +him certainly very good advice. I cannot write in a letter which +I know you will show what drugs a Turkish doctor had furnished him with +to ‘strengthen’ him in the trying climate of Fazoghlou. +I wonder was it intended to kill him or only given in ignorance of the +laws of health equal to his own?</p> +<p>After a while the pretty boy became better and recovered consciousness, +and his poor father, who had been helping me with trembling hands and +swimming eyes, cried for joy, and said, ‘By God the most high, +if ever I find any of the English, poor or sick or afflicted up in Fazoghlou, +I will make them know that I Abu Mahommed never saw a face like the +pale face of the English lady bent over my sick boy.’ And +then El-Bedrawee and his fellah kinsman, and all the crew blessed me +and the Captain, and the cawass said it was time to sail. So I +gave directions and medicine to Abu Mahommed, and kissed the pretty +boy and went out. El-Bedrawee followed me up the bank, and said +he had a request to make—would I pray for him in his distress. +I said, ‘I am not of the Muslimeen,’ but both he and Mustapha +said, <i>Maleysh</i> (never mind), for that it was quite certain I was +not of the <i>Mushkireen</i>, as they hate the Muslimeen and their deeds +are evil—but blessed be God, many of the English begin to repent +of their evil, and to love the Muslims and abound in kind actions. +So we parted in much kindness. It was a strange feeling to me +to stand on the bank and see the queer savage-looking boat glide away +up the stream, bound to such far more savage lands, and to be exchanging +kind farewells quite in a homely manner with such utter ‘aliens +in blood and faith.’ ‘God keep thee Lady, God keep +thee Mustapha.’ Mustapha and I walked home very sad about +poor El-Bedrawee.</p> +<p><i>Friday</i>, <i>July</i> 7.—It has been so ‘awfully’ +hot that I have not had pluck to go on with my letter, or indeed to +do anything but lie on a mat in the passage with a minimum of clothes +quite indescribable in English. <i>Alhamdulilah</i>! laughs Omar, +‘that I see the clever English people do just like the lazy Arabs.’ +The worst is not the positive heat, which has not been above 104° +and as low as 96° at night, but the horrible storms of hot wind +and dust which are apt to come on at night and prevent one’s even +lying down till twelve or one o’clock. Thebes is bad in +the height of summer on account of its expanse of desert, and sand and +dust. The Nile is pouring down now gloriously, and <i>really</i> +red as blood—more crimson than a Herefordshire lane—and +in the distance the reflection of the pure blue sky makes it deep violet. +It had risen five cubits a week ago; we shall soon have it all over +the land here. It is a beautiful and inspiriting sight to see +the noble old stream as young and vigorous as ever. No wonder +the Egyptians worshipped the Nile: there is nothing like it. We +have had all the plagues of Egypt this year, only the lice are commuted +for bugs, and the frogs for mice; the former have eaten me and the latter +have eaten my clothes. We are so ragged! Omar has one shirt +left, and has to sleep without and wash it every night. The dust, +the drenching perspiration, and the hard-fisted washing of Mahommed’s +slave-women destroys everything.</p> +<p>Mustapha intends to give you a grand <i>fantasia</i> if you come, +and to have the best dancing girls down from Esneh for you; but I am +consternated to hear that you can’t come till December. +I hoped you would have arrived in Cairo early in November, and spent +a month there with me, and come up the river in the middle of December +when Cairo gets very cold.</p> +<p>I remain very well in general health, but my cough has been troublesome +again. I do not feel at all like breathing cold damp air again. +This depresses me very much as you may suppose. You will have +to divorce me, and I must marry some respectable Kadee. I have +been too ‘lazy Arab,’ as Omar calls it, to go on with my +Arabic lessons, and Yussuf has been very busy with law business connected +with the land and the crops. Every harvest brings a fresh settling +of the land. Wheat is selling at £1 the ardeb <a name="citation188"></a><a href="#footnote188">{188}</a> +here <i>on the threshing-floor</i>, and barley at one hundred and sixteen +piastres; I saw some Nubians pay Mustapha that. He is in comic +perplexity about saying <i>Alhamdulillah</i> about such enormous gains—you +see it is rather awkward for a Muslim to thank God for dear bread—so +he compounds by very lavish almsgiving. He gave all his fellaheen +clothes the other day—forty calico shirts and drawers. Do +you remember my describing an Arab <i>emancipirtes Fraülein</i> +at Siout? Well, the other day I saw as I thought a nice-looking +lad of sixteen selling corn to my opposite neighbour, a Copt. +It was a girl. Her father had no son and is infirm, so she works +in the field for him, and dresses and does like a man. She looked +very modest and was quieter in her manner than the veiled women often +are.</p> +<p>I am so glad to hear such good accounts of my Rainie and Maurice. +I can hardly bear to think of another year without seeing them. +However it is fortunate for me that ‘my lines have fallen in pleasant +places,’ so long a time at the Cape or any Colony would have become +intolerable. Best love to Janet, I really can’t write, it’s +too hot and dusty. Omar desires his salaam to his great master +and to that gazelle Sittee Ross.</p> +<h3>August 13, 1864: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>August</i> 13, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>For the last month we have had a purgatory of hot wind and dust, +such as I never saw—impossible to stir out of the house. +So in despair I have just engaged a return boat—a <i>Gelegenheit</i>—and +am off to Cairo in a day or two, where I shall stop till <i>Inshallah</i>! +you come to me. Can’t you get leave to come at the beginning +of November? Do try, that is the pleasant time in Cairo.</p> +<p>I am a ‘stupid, lazy Arab’ now, as Omar says, having +lain on a mat in a dark stone passage for six weeks or so, but my chest +is no worse—better I think, and my health has not suffered at +all—only I am stupid and lazy. I had a pleasant visit lately +from a great doctor from Mecca—a man so learned that he can read +the Koran in seven different ways, he is also a physician of European +<i>Hekmeh</i> (learning). Fancy my wonder when a great Alim in +gorgeous Hegazee dress walked in and said: ‘<i>Madame, tout ce +qu’on m’a dit de vous fait tellement l’éloge +de votre cœur et de votre esprit que je me suis arreté +pour tacher de me procurer le plaisir de votre connaissance</i>!’ +A lot of Luxor people came in to pay their respects to the great man, +and he said to me that he hoped I had not been molested on account of +religion, and if I had I must forgive it, as the people here were so +very ignorant, and <i>barbarians were bigots everywhere</i>. I +said, ‘<i>Wallahy</i>, the people of Luxor are my brothers!’ +and the Maōhn said, ‘True, the fellaheen are like oxen, but +not such swine as to insult the religion of a lady who has served God +among them like this one. She risked her life every day.’ +‘And if she <i>had</i> died,’ said the great theologian, +‘her place was made ready among the martyrs of God, because she +showed more love to her brothers than to herself!’</p> +<p>Now if this was humbug it was said in Arabic before eight or ten +people, by a man of great religious authority.</p> +<p>Omar was <i>aux anges</i> to hear his Sitt spoken of ‘in such +a grand way for the religion.’ I believe that a great change +is taking place among the Ulema, that Islam is ceasing to be a mere +party flag, just as occurred with Christianity, and that all the moral +part is being more and more dwelt on. My great Alim also said +I had practised the precepts of the Koran, and then laughed and added, +‘I suppose I ought to say the Gospel, but what matters it, <i>el +Hakh</i> (the truth) is one, whether spoken by Our Lord Jesus or by +Our Lord Mahommed!’ He asked me to go with him to Mecca +next winter for my health, as it was so hot and dry there. I found +he had fallen in with El-Bedrawee and the Khartoum merchant at Assouan. +The little boy was well again, and I had been outrageously extolled +by them. We are now sending off all the corn. I sat the +other evening on Mustapha’s doorstep and saw the Greeks piously +and zealously attending to the divine command to spoil the Egyptians. +Eight months ago a Greek bought up corn at 60 piastres the ardeb (he +follows the Coptic tax-gatherer like a vulture after a crow), now wheat +is at 170 piastres the ardeb here, and the fellah has paid 3½ +<i>per cent. a month</i> besides. Reckon the profit! Two +men I know are quite ruined, and have sold all they had. The cattle +disease forced them to borrow at these ruinous rates, and now alas, +the Nile is sadly lingering in its rise, and people are very anxious. +Poor Egypt! or rather, poor Egyptians! Of course, I need not say +that there is great improvidence in those who can be fleeced as they +are fleeced. Mustapha’s household is a pattern of muddling +hospitality, and Mustapha is generous and mean by turns; but what chance +have people like these, so utterly uncivilized and so isolated, against +Europeans of unscrupulous characters.</p> +<p>I can’t write more in the wind and dust. You shall hear +again from Cairo.</p> +<h3>October 9, 1864: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>October</i> 9, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I have not written for a long time because I have had a fever. +Now I am all right again, only weak. If you can come please bring +the books in enclosed list for an American Egyptologist at Luxor—a +friend of mine. My best love to Janet and my other chicks. +I wish I could see my Maurice. Tell Janet that Hassan donkey boy, +has married a girl of eleven, and Phillips that Hassan remembers him +quite tenderly and is very proud of having had his ‘face’ +drawn by him, ‘certainly he was of the friends if not a brother +of the Sitt, he so loved the things of the Arabs.’ I went +to the Hareem <i>soirée</i> at Hassan’s before the wedding—at +that event I was ill. My good doctor was up the river, and Hekekian +Bey is in Italy, so I am very lonely here. The weather is bad, +so very damp; I stream with perspiration more than in June at Luxor, +and I don’t like civilization so very much. It keeps me +awake at night in the grog shops and rings horrid bells and fights and +quarrels in the street, and disturbs my Muslim nerves till I utter such +epithets as <i>kelb</i> (dog) and <i>khanseer</i> (pig) against the +Frangi, and wish I were in a ‘beastly Arab’ quarter.</p> +<h3>October 21, 1864: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>October</i> 21, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I got your letter yesterday. I hope Alick got mine of two weeks +ago before leaving, and told you I was better. I am still rather +weak, however I ride my donkey and the weather has suddenly become gloriously +dry and cool. I rather shiver with the thermometer at 79°—absurd +is it not, but I got so used to real heat.</p> +<p>I never wrote about my leaving Luxor or my journey, for our voyage +was quite tempestuous after the three first days and I fell ill as soon +as I was in my house here. I hired the boat for six purses (£18) +which had taken Greeks up to Assouan selling groceries and strong drinks, +but the reis would not bring back their cargo of black slaves to dirty +the boat and picked us up at Luxor. We sailed at daybreak having +waited all one day because it was an unlucky day.</p> +<p>As I sat in the boat people kept coming to ask whether I was coming +back very anxiously and bringing fresh bread, eggs and things as presents, +and all the quality came to take leave and hope, <i>Inshallah</i>, I +should soon ‘come home to my village safe and bring the Master, +please God, to see them,’ and then to say the <i>Fattah</i> for +a safe journey and my health. In the morning the balconies of +my house were filled with such a group to see us sail—a party +of wild Abab’deh with their long Arab guns and flowing hair, a +Turk elegantly dressed, Mohammed in his decorous brown robes and snow-white +turban, and several fellaheen. As the boat moved off the Abab’deh +blazed away with their guns and Osman Effendi with a sort of blunderbuss, +and as we dropped down the river there was a general firing; even Todoros +(Theodore), the Coptic Mallim, popped off his American revolver. +Omar keeping up a return with Alick’s old horse pistols which +are much admired here on account of the excessive noise they make.</p> +<p>Poor old Ismain, who always thought I was Mme. Belzoni and wanted +to take me up to Abou Simbel to meet my husband, was in dire distress +that he could not go with me to Cairo. He declared he was still +<i>shedeed</i> (strong enough to take care of me and to fight). +He is ninety-seven and only remembers fifty or sixty years ago and old +wild times—a splendid old man, handsome and erect. I used +to give him coffee and listen to his old stories which had won his heart. +His grandson, the quiet, rather stately, Mohammed who is guard of the +house I lived in, forgot all his Muslim dignity, broke down in the middle +of his set speech and flung himself down and kissed and hugged my knees +and cried. He had got some notion of impending ill-luck, I found, +and was unhappy at our departure—and the backsheesh failed to +console him. Sheykh Yussuf was to come with me, but a brother +of his just wrote word that he was coming back from the Hejaz where +he had been with the troops in which he is serving his time; I was very +sorry to lose his company. Fancy how dreadfully irregular for +one of the Ulema and a heretical woman to travel together. What +would our bishops say to a parson who did such a thing? We had +a lovely time on the river for three days, such moonlight nights, so +soft and lovely; and we had a sailor who was as good as a professional +singer, and who sang religious songs, which I observe excite people +here far more than love songs. One which began ‘Remove my +sins from before thy sight Oh God’ was really beautiful and touching, +and I did not wonder at the tears which ran down Omar’s face. +A very pretty profane song was ‘Keep the wind from me Oh Lord, +I fear it will hurt me’ (<i>wind</i> means <i>love</i>, which +is like the Simoom) ‘Alas! it has struck me and I am sick. +Why do ye bring the physician? Oh physician put back thy medicine +in the canister, for only he who has hurt can cure me.’ +The masculine pronoun is always used instead of <i>she</i> in poetry +out of decorum—sometimes even in conversation.</p> +<p><i>October</i> 23.—Yesterday I met a Saedee—a friend +of the brother of the Sheykh of the wild Abab’deh, and as we stood +handshaking and kissing our fingers in the road, some of the Anglo-Indian +travellers passed and gazed with fierce disgust; the handsome Hassan, +being black, was such a flagrant case of a ‘native.’ +Mutter dear, it is heart-breaking to see what we are sending to India +now. The mail days are dreaded, we never know when some outrage +may not excite ‘Mussulman fanaticism.’ The English +tradesmen here complain as much as anyone, and I, who as the Kadee of +Luxor said am ‘not outside the family’ (of Ishmael, I presume), +hear what the Arabs really think. There are also crowds ‘like +lice’ as one Mohammed said, of low Italians, French, etc., and +I find my stalwart Hassan’s broad shoulders no superfluous <i>porte-respect</i> +in the Frangee quarter. Three times I have been followed and insolently +stared at (<i>à mon age</i>)!! and once Hassan had to speak. +Fancy how dreadful to Muslims! I hate the sight of a hat here +now.</p> +<p>I can’t write more now my eyes are weak still. Omar begs +me to give you his best salaam and say, <i>Inshallah</i>, he will take +great care of your daughter, which he most zealously and tenderly does.</p> +<h3>December 23, 1864: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">On the Nile</span>,<br /> +<i>Friday</i>, <i>December</i> 23, 1864.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>Here I am again between Benisouef and Minieh, and already better +for the clear air of the river and the tranquil boat life; I will send +you my Christmas Salaam from Siout. While Alick was with me I +had as much to do as I was able and could not write for there was much +to see and talk about. I think he was amused but I fear he felt +the Eastern life to be very poor and comfortless. I have got so +used to having nothing that I had quite forgotten how it would seem +to a stranger.</p> +<p>I am quite sorry to find how many of my letters must have been lost +from Luxor; in future I shall trust the Arab post which certainly is +safer than English travellers. I send you my long plaits by Alick, +for I had my hair cut short as it took to falling out by handfuls after +my fever, and moreover it is more convenient Turkish hareem fashion.</p> +<p>Please tell Dean Stanley how his old dragoman Mahommed Gazawee cried +with pleasure when he told me he had seen Sheykh Stanley’s sister +on her way to India, and the ‘little ladies’ <i>knew his +name</i> and shook hands with him, which evidently was worth far more +than the backsheesh. I wondered who ‘Sheykh’ Stanley +could be, and Mahommed (who is a darweesh and very pious) told me he +was the <i>Gassis</i> (priest) who was <i>Imám</i> (spiritual +guide) to the son of our Queen, ‘and in truth,’ said he, +‘he is <i>really</i> a Sheykh and one who teaches the excellent +things of religion, why he was kind even to his horse! and it is of +the mercies of God to the English that such a one is the Imám +of your Queen and Prince.’ I said laughing, ‘How dost +thou, a darweesh among Muslims, talk thus of a Nazarene priest?’ +‘Truly oh Lady,’ he answered, ‘one who loveth all +the creatures of God, him God loveth also, there is no doubt of that.’ +Is any one bigot enough to deny that Stanley has done more for real +religion in the mind of that Muslim darweesh than if he had baptised +a hundred savages out of one fanatical faith into another?</p> +<p>There is no hope of a good understanding with Orientals until Western +Christians can bring themselves to recognise the common faith contained +in the two religions, the <i>real</i> difference consists in all the +class of notions and feelings (very important ones, no doubt) which +we derive—not from the Gospels at all—but from Greece and +Rome, and which of course are altogether wanting here.</p> +<p>Alick will tell you how curiously Omar illustrated the patriarchal +feelings of the East by entirely dethroning me in favour of the ‘Master.’ +‘That <i>our Master</i>, we all eat bread from his hand, and he +work for <i>us</i>.’ Omar and I were equal before <i>our +Seedee</i>. He can sit at his ease at my feet, but when the Master +comes in he must stand reverently, and gave me to understand that I +too must be respectful.</p> +<p>I have got the boat of the American Mission at an outrageous price, +£60, but I could get nothing under; the consolation is that the +sailors profit, poor fellows, and get treble wages. My crew are +all Nubians. Such a handsome reis and steersman—brothers—and +there is a black boy, of fourteen or so, with legs and feet so sweetly +beautiful as to be quite touching—at least I always feel those +lovely round young innocent forms to be somehow affecting. Our +old boat of last summer (Arthur Taylor’s) is sailing in company +with us, and stately old reis Mubharak hails me every morning with the +Blessing of God and the Peace of the Prophet. Alee Kuptan, my +steamboat captain will announce our advent at Thebes; he passed us to-day. +This boat is a fine sailer, but iron built and therefore noisy, and +not convenient. The crew encourage her with ‘Get along, +father of three,’ because she has three sails, whereas two is +the usual number. They are active good-humoured fellows—my +men—but lack the Arab courtesy and <i>simpatico</i> ways, and +then I don’t understand their language which is pretty and sounds +a little like Caffre, rather bird-like and sing-song, instead of the +clattering guttural Arabic. I now speak pretty tolerably for a +stranger, <i>i.e</i>. I can keep up a conversation, and understand all +that is said to me much better than I can speak, and follow about half +what people say to each other. When I see you, <i>Inshallah</i>, +next summer I shall be a good scholar, I hope.</p> +<h3>January 2, 1865: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>January</i> 2, 1865.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I posted a letter for you at Girgeh, as we passed Siout with a good +wind, I hope you will get it. My crew worked as I never saw men +work, they were paid to get to Luxor, and for eighteen days they never +rested or slept day or night, and all the time were merry and pleasant. +It shows what power of endurance these ‘lazy Arabs’ have +when there is good money at the end of a job, instead of the favourite +panacea of ‘stick.’</p> +<p>We arrived at midnight and next morning my boat had the air of being +pillaged. A crowd of laughing, chattering fellows ran off to the +house laden with loose articles snatched up at random, loaves of sugar, +pots and pans, books, cushions, all helter-skelter. I feared breakages, +but all was housed safe and sound. The small boys of an age licensed +to penetrate into the cabin, went off with the oddest cargoes of dressing +things and the like—of backsheesh not one word. <i>Alhamdulillah +salaameh</i>! ‘Thank God thou art in peace,’ and <i>Ya +Sitt, Ya Emeereh</i>, till my head went round. Old Ismaeen fairly +hugged me and little Achmet hung close to my side. I went up to +Mustapha’s house while the unpacking took place and breakfasted +there, and found letters from all of you, from you to darling Rainie, +Sheykh Yussuf was charmed with her big writing and said he thought the +news in that was the best of all.</p> +<p>The weather was intensely hot the first two days. Now it is +heavenly, a fresh breeze and gorgeous sunshine. I brought two +common Arab lanterns for the tomb of Abu-l-Hajjaj and his <i>moolid</i> +is now going on. Omar took them and lighted them up and told me +he found several people who called on the rest to say the <i>Fathah</i> +for me. I was sitting out yesterday with the people on the sand +looking at the men doing <i>fantasia</i> on horseback for the Sheykh, +and a clever dragoman of the party was relating about the death of a +young English girl whom he had served, and so <i>de fil en aiguille</i> +we talked about the strangers buried here and how the bishop had extorted +£100. I said, ‘<i>Maleysh</i> (never mind) the people +have been hospitable to me alive and they will not cease if I die, but +give me a tomb among the Arabs.’ One old man said, ‘May +I not see thy day, oh Lady, and indeed thou shouldest be buried as a +daughter of the Arabs, but we should fear the anger of thy Consul and +thy family, but thou knowest that wherever thou art buried thou wilt +assuredly lie in a Muslim grave.’ ‘How so?’ +said I. ‘Why, when a bad Muslim dies the angels take him +out of his tomb and put in one of the good from among the Christians +in his place.’ This is the popular expression of the doctrine +that the good are sure of salvation. Omar chimed in at once, ‘Certainly +there is no doubt of it, and I know a story that happened in the days +of Mahommed Ali Pasha which proves it.’ We demanded the +story and Omar began. ‘There was once a very rich man of +the Muslims so stingy that he grudged everybody even so much as a “bit +of the paper inside the date” (Koran). When he was dying +he said to his wife, “Go out and buy me a lump of pressed dates,” +and when she had brought it he bade her leave him alone. Thereupon +he took all his gold out of his sash and spread it before him, and rolled +it up two or three pieces at a time in the dates, and swallowed it piece +after piece until only three were left, when his wife came in and saw +what he was doing and snatched them from his hand. Presently after +he fell back and died and was carried out to the burial place and laid +in his tomb. When the Kadee’s men came to put the seal on +his property and found no money they said, “Oh woman, how is this? +we know thy husband was a rich man and behold we find no money for his +children and slaves or for thee.” So the woman told what +had happened, and the Kadee sent for three other of the Ulema, and they +decided that after three days she should go herself to her husband’s +tomb and open it, and take the money from his stomach; meanwhile a guard +was put over the tomb to keep away robbers. After three days therefore +the woman went, and the men opened the tomb and said, “Go in O +woman and take thy money.” So the woman went down into the +tomb alone. When there, instead of her husband’s body she +saw a box (coffin) of the boxes of the Christians, and when she opened +it she saw the body of a young girl, adorned with many ornaments of +gold necklaces, and bracelets, and a diamond <i>Kurs</i> on her head, +and over all a veil of black muslin embroidered with gold. So +the woman said within herself, “Behold I came for money and here +it is, I will take it and conceal this business for fear of the Kadee.” +So she wrapped the whole in her <i>melayeh</i> (a blue checked cotton +sheet worn as a cloak) and came out, and the men said “Hast thou +done thy business?”’ and she answered “Yes” +and returned home.</p> +<p>‘In a few days she gave the veil she had taken from the dead +girl to a broker to sell for her in the bazaar, and the broker went +and showed it to the people and was offered one hundred piastres. +Now there sat in one of the shops of the merchants a great Ma-allim +(Coptic clerk) belonging to the Pasha, and he saw the veil and said, +“How much asketh thou?” and the broker said “Oh thine +honour the clerk whatever thou wilt.” “Take from me +then five hundred piastres and bring the person that gave thee the veil +to receive the money.” So the broker fetched the woman and +the Copt, who was a great man, called the police and said, “Take +this woman and fetch my ass and we will go before the Pasha,” +and he rode in haste to the palace weeping and beating his breast, and +went before the Pasha and said, “Behold this veil was buried a +few days ago with my daughter who died unmarried, and I had none but +her and I loved her like my eyes and would not take from her her ornaments, +and this veil she worked herself and was very fond of it, and she was +young and beautiful and just of the age to be married; and behold the +Muslims go and rob the tombs of the Christians and if thou wilt suffer +this we Christians will leave Egypt and go and live in some other country, +O Effendina, for we cannot endure this abomination.”</p> +<p>‘Then the Pasha turned to the woman and said, “Woe to +thee O woman, art thou a Muslimeh and doest such wickedness?” +And the woman spoke and told all that had happened and how she sought +money and finding gold had kept it. So the Pasha said, “Wait +oh Ma-allim, and we will discover the truth of this matter,” and +he sent for the three Ulema who had desired that the tomb should be +opened at the end of three days and told them the case; and they said, +“Open now the tomb of the Christian damsel.” And the +Pasha sent his men to do so, and when they opened it behold it was full +of fire, and within it lay the body of the wicked and avaricious Mussulman.’ +Thus it was manifest to all that on the night of terror the angels of +God had done this thing, and had laid the innocent girl of the Christians +among those who have received direction, and the evil Muslim among the +rejected. Admire how rapidly legends arise here. This story +which everybody declared was quite true is placed no longer ago than +in Mahommed Ali Pasha’s time.</p> +<p>There are hardly any travellers this year, instead of a hundred and +fifty or more boats, perhaps twenty. A son of one of the Rothschilds, +a boy of fourteen, has just gone up like a royal prince in one of the +Pasha’s steamers—all his expenses paid and crowds of attendants. +‘All that honour to the money of the Jew,’ said an old fellah +to me with a tone of scorn which I could not but echo in my heart. +He has turned out his dragoman—a respectable elderly man, very +sick, and paid him his bare wages and the munificent sum of £5 +to take him back to Cairo. On board there was a doctor and plenty +of servants, and yet he abandons the man here on Mustapha’s hands. +I have brought Er-Rasheedee here (the sick man) as poor Mustapha is +already overloaded with strangers. I am sorry the name of <i>Yahoodee</i> +(Jew) should be made to stink yet more in the nostrils of the Arabs. +I am very well, indeed my cough is almost gone and I can walk quite +briskly and enjoy it. I think, dear Mutter, I am really better. +I never felt the cold so little as this winter since my illness, the +chilly mornings and nights don’t seem to signify at all now, and +the climate feels more delicious than ever.</p> +<p>Mr. Herbert, the painter, went back to Cairo from Farshoot below +Keneh; so I have no ‘Frangee’ society at all. But +Sheykh Yussuf and the Kadee drop in to tea very often and as they are +agreeable men I am quite content with my company.</p> +<p>Bye the bye I will tell you about the tenure of land in Egypt which +people are always disputing about, as the Kadee laid it down for me. +The <i>whole</i> land belongs to the Sultan of Turkey, the Pasha being +his vakeel (representative), nominally of course as we know. Thus +there are no owners, only tenants paying from one hundred piastres tariff +(£1) down to thirty piastres yearly per feddan (about an acre) +according to the quality of the land, or the favour of the Pasha when +granting it. This tenancy is hereditary to children only—not +to collaterals or ascendants—and it may be sold, but in that case +application must be made to the Government. If the owner or tenant +dies childless the land reverts to the Sultan, <i>i.e</i>. to the Pasha, +and <i>if the Pasha chooses to have any man’s land he can take +it from him on payment—or without</i>. Don’t let any +one tell you that I exaggerate; I have known it happen: I mean the <i>without</i>, +and the man received feddan for feddan of desert, in return for his +good land which he had tilled and watered.</p> +<p>To-morrow night is the great night of Sheykh Abu-l-Hajjaj’s +<i>moolid</i> and I am desired to go to the mosque for the benefit of +my health, and that my friends may say a prayer for my children. +The kind hearty welcome I found here has been a real pleasure, and every +one was pleased because I was glad to come home to my <i>beled</i> (town), +and they all thought it so nice of ‘my master’ to have come +so far to see me because I was sick—all but one Turk, who clearly +looked with pitying contempt on so much trouble taken about a sick old +woman.</p> +<p>I have left my letter for a long while. You will not wonder—for +after some ten days’ fever, my poor guest Mohammed Er-Rasheedee +died to-day. Two Prussian doctors gave me help for the last four +days, but left last night. He sank to sleep quietly at noon with +his hand in mine, a good old Muslim sat at his head on one side and +I on the other. Omar stood at his head and his black boy Khayr +at his feet. We had laid his face to the Kibleh and I spoke to +him to see if he knew anything and when he nodded the three Muslims +chanted the <i>Islamee La Illáhá</i>, etc., etc., while +I closed his eyes. The ‘respectable men’ came in by +degrees, took an inventory of his property which they delivered to me, +and washed the body, and within an hour and a half we all went out to +the burial place; I following among a troop of women who joined us to +wail for ‘the brother who had died far from his place.’ +The scene as we turned in between the broken colossi and the pylons +of the temple to go to the mosque was over-powering. After the +prayer in the mosque we went out to the graveyard, Muslims and Copts +helping to carry the dead, and my Frankish hat in the midst of the veiled +and wailing women; all so familiar and yet so strange. After the +burial the Imám, Sheykh Abd-el-Waris, came and kissed me on the +shoulders and the Shereef, a man of eighty, laid his hands on my shoulders +and said, ‘Fear not my daughter, neither all the days of thy life +nor at the hour of thy death, for God is with thee.’ I kissed +the old man’s hand and turned to go, but numberless men came and +said ‘A thousand thanks, O our sister, for what thou hast done +for one among us,’ and a great deal more. Now the solemn +chanting of the <i>Fikees</i>, and the clear voice of the boy reciting +the Koran in the room where the man died are ringing through the house. +They will pass the night in prayer, and to-morrow there will be the +prayer of deliverance in the mosque. Poor Khayr has just crept +in to have a quiet cry—poor boy. He is in the inventory +and to-morrow I must deliver him up to <i>les autorités</i> to +be forwarded to Cairo with the rest of the property. He is very +ugly with his black face wet and swollen, but he kisses my hand and +calls me his mother quite ‘natural like’—you see colour +is no barrier here.</p> +<p>The weather is glorious this year, and in spite of some fatigue I +am extremely well and strong, and have hardly any cough at all. +I am so sorry that the young Rothschild was so hard to Er-Rasheedee +and that his French doctor refused to come and see him. It makes +bad blood naturally. However, the German doctors were most kind +and helpful.</p> +<p>The festival of Abu-l-Hajjaj was quite a fine sight, not splendid +at all—<i>au contraire</i>—but spirit-stirring; the flags +of the Sheykh borne by his family chanting, and the men tearing about +in mimic fight on horseback with their spears. My acquaintance +of last year, Abd-el-Moutovil, the fanatical Sheykh from Tunis was there. +At first he scowled at me. Then someone told him how Rothschild +had left Er-Rasheedee, and he held forth about the hatred of all the +unbelievers to the Muslims, and ended by asking where the sick man was. +A quaint little smile twinkled in Sheykh Yussuf’s soft eyes and +he curled his silky moustache as he said demurely, ‘Your Honour +must go and visit him at the house of the English Lady.’ +I am bound to say that the Pharisee ‘executed himself handsomely, +for in a few minutes he came up to me and took my hand and even hoped +I would visit the tomb of Abu-l-Hajjaj with him!!</p> +<p>Since I wrote last I have been rather poorly—more cough, and +most wearing sleeplessness. A poor young Englishman died here +at the house of the Austrian Consular agent. I was too ill to +go to him, but a kind, dear young Englishwoman, a Mrs. Walker, who was +here with her family in a boat, sat up with him three nights and nursed +him like a sister. A young American lay sick at the same time +in the house, he is now gone down to Cairo, but I doubt whether he will +reach it alive. The Englishman was buried on the first day of +Ramadan where they bury strangers, on the site of a former Coptic church. +Archdeacon Moore read the service; Omar and I spread my old flag over +the bier, and Copts and Muslims helped to carry the poor stranger. +It was a most impressive sight. The party of Europeans, all strangers +to the dead but all deeply moved; the group of black-robed and turbaned +Copts; the sailors from the boats; the gaily dressed dragomans; several +brown-shirted fellaheen and the thick crowd of children—all the +little Abab’deh stark naked and all behaving so well, the expression +on their little faces touched me most of all. As Muslims, Omar +and the boatmen laid him down in the grave, and while the English prayer +was read the sun went down in a glorious flood of light over the distant +bend of the Nile. ‘Had he a mother, he was young?’ +said an Abab’deh woman to me with tears in her eyes and pressing +my hand in sympathy for that far-off mother of such a different race.</p> +<p>Passenger steamboats come now every fortnight, but I have had no +letter for a month. I have no almanack and have lost count of +European time—to-day is the 3 of Ramadan, that is all I know. +The poor black slave was sent back from Keneh, God knows why—because +he had no money and the Moudir could not ‘eat off him’ as +he could off the money and property—he believes. He is a +capital fellow, and in order to compensate me for what he eats he proposed +to wash for me, and you would be amused to see Khayr with his coal-black +face and filed teeth doing laundry-maid out in the yard. He fears +the family will sell him and hopes he may fetch a good price for ‘his +boy’—only on the other hand he would so like me to buy him—and +so his mind is disturbed. Meanwhile the having all my clothes +washed clean is a great luxury.</p> +<p>The steamer is come and I must finish in haste. I have corrected +the proofs. There is not much to alter, and though I regret several +lost letters I can’t replace them. I tried, but it felt +like a forgery. Do you cut out and correct, dearest Mutter, you +will do it much better than I.</p> +<h3>January 8, 1865: Dowager Lady Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To the Dowager Lady Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>January</i> 8, 1865.</p> +<p>Dear Old Lady,</p> +<p>I received your kind letter in the midst of the drumming and piping +and chanting and firing of guns and pistols and scampering of horses +which constitute a religious festival in Egypt. The last day of +the <i>moolid</i> of Abu-l-Hajjaj fell on the 1st January so you came +to wish me ‘May all the year be good to thee’ as the people +here were civil enough to do when I told them it was the first day of +the <i>Frankish</i> year. (The <i>Christian</i> year here begins +in September.)</p> +<p>I was very sorry to hear of poor Lady Theresa’s (Lady Theresa +Lewis) death. I feel as if I had no right to survive people whom +I left well and strong when I came away so ill. As usual the air +of Upper Egypt has revived me again, but I am still weak and thin, and +hear many lamentations at my altered looks. However, ‘<i>Inshallah</i>, +thou wilt soon be better.’</p> +<p>Why don’t you make Alexander edit your letters from Spain? +I am sure they would be far more amusing than mine can possibly be—for +you <i>can</i> write letters and I never could. I wish I had Miss +Berry’s though I never did think her such a genius as most people, +but her letters must be amusing from the time when they were written. +Alexander will tell you how heavy the hand of Pharaoh is upon this poor +people. ‘My father scourged you with whips but I will scourge +you with scorpions,’ did not Rehoboam say so? or I forget which +King of Judah. The distress here is frightful in all classes, +and no man’s life is safe.</p> +<p>Ali Bey Rheda told me the other day that Prince Arthur is coming +here and that he was coming up with him after taking a Prince of Hohenzollern +back to Cairo. There will be all the <i>fantasia</i> possible +for him here. Every man that has a horse will gallop him to pieces +in honour of the son of the Queen of the English, and not a charge of +powder will be spared. If you see Layard tell him that Mustapha +A’gha had the whole Koran read for his benefit at the tomb of +Abu-l-Hajjaj besides innumerable <i>fathahs</i> which he said for him +himself. He consulted me as to the propriety of sending Layard +a backsheesh, but I declared that Layard was an Emeer of the Arabs and +a giver, not a taker of backsheesh.</p> +<h3>January 9, 1865: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>January</i> 9, 1865.</p> +<p>I gave Sheykh Yussuf your knife to cut his <i>kalem</i> (reed pen) +with, and to his little girl the coral waistband clasp you gave me <i>as +from you</i>. He was much pleased. I also brought the Shereef +the psalms in Arabic to his great delight. The old man called +on all ‘our family’ to say a <i>fathah</i> for their sister, +after making us all laugh by shouting out ‘<i>Alhamdulillah</i>! +here is our darling safe back again.’</p> +<p>I wish you could have seen me in the crowd at Keneh holding on to +the Kadee’s <i>farageeyeh</i> (a loose robe worn by the Ulema). +He is the real original Kadee of the Thousand and One Nights. +Did ever Kadee tow an Englishwoman round a Sheykh’s tomb before? +but I thought his determination to show the people that he considered +a Christian not out of place in a Muslim holy place very edifying.</p> +<p>I find an exceedingly pleasant man here, an Abab’deh, a very +great Sheykh from beyond Khartoum, a man of fifty I suppose, with manners +like an English nobleman, simple and polite and very intelligent. +He wants to take me to Khartoum for two months up and back, having a +tent and a <i>takhterawan</i> (camel-litter) and to show me the Bishareen +in the desert. We traced the route on my map which to my surprise +he understood, and I found he had travelled into Zanzibar and knew of +the existence of the Cape of Good Hope and the English colony there. +He had also travelled in the Dinka and Shurook country where the men +are seven feet and over high (Alexander saw a Dinka girl at Cairo three +inches taller than himself!). He knows Madlle. Tiné and +says she is ‘on everyone’s head and in their eyes’ +where she has been. You may fancy that I find Sheykh Alee very +good company.</p> +<p>To-day the sand in front of the house is thronged with all the poor +people with their camels, of which the Government has made a new levy +of eight camels to every thousand feddans. The poor beasts are +sent off to transport troops in the Soudan, and not being used to the +desert, they all die—at all events their owners never see one +of them again. The discontent is growing stronger every day. +Last week the people were cursing the Pasha in the streets of Assouan, +and every one talks aloud of what they think.</p> +<p><i>January</i> 11.—The whole place is in desolation, the men +are being beaten, one because his camel is not good enough, another +because its saddle is old and shabby, and the rest because they have +not money enough to pay two months’ food and the wages of one +man, to every four camels, to be paid for the use of the Government +beforehand. The <i>courbash</i> has been going on my neighbours’ +backs and feet all the morning. It is a new sensation too when +a friend turns up his sleeve and shows the marks of the wooden handcuffs +and the gall of the chain on his throat. The system of wholesale +extortion and spoliation has reached a point beyond which it would be +difficult to go. The story of Naboth’s vineyard is repeated +daily on the largest scale. I grieve for Abdallah-el-Habbashee +and men of high position like him, sent to die by disease (or murder), +in Fazoghou, but I grieve still more over the daily anguish of the poor +fellaheen, who are forced to take the bread from the mouths of their +starving families and to eat it while toiling for the private profit +of one man. Egypt is one vast ‘plantation’ where the +master works his slaves without even feeding them. From my window +now I see the men limping about among the poor camels that are waiting +for the Pasha’s boats to take them, and the great heaps of maize +which they are forced to bring for their food. I can tell you +the tears such a sight brings to one’s eyes are hot and bitter. +These are no sentimental grievances; hunger, and pain, and labour without +hope and without reward, and the constant bitterness of impotent resentment. +To you all this must sound remote and almost fabulous. But try +to imagine Farmer Smith’s team driven off by the police and himself +beaten till he delivered his hay, his oats and his farm-servant for +the use of the Lord Lieutenant, and his two sons dragged in chains to +work at railway embankments—and you will have some idea of my +state of mind to-day. I fancy from the number of troops going +up to Assouan that there is another rising among the blacks. Some +of the black regiments revolted up in the Soudan last summer, and now +I hear Shaheen Pasha is to be here in a day or two on his way up, and +the camels are being sent off by hundreds from all the villages every +day. But I am weary of telling, and you will sicken of hearing +my constant lamentations.</p> +<p>Sheykh Hassan dropped in and dined with me yesterday and described +his mother and her high-handed rule over him. It seems he had +a ‘jeunesse orageuse’ and she defended him against his father’s +displeasure, but when the old Sheykh died she informed her son that +if he ever again behaved in a manner unworthy of a Sheykh-el-Arab she +would not live to see it. ‘Now if my mother told me to jump +into the river and drown I should say <i>hader</i> (ready), for I fear +her exceedingly and love her above all people in the world, and have +left everything in her hand.’ He was good enough to tell +me that I was the only woman he knew like his mother and that was why +he loved me so much. I am to visit this Arab Deborah at the Abab’deh +village two days ride from the first Cataract. She will come and +meet me at the boat. Hassan was splendid when he said how he feared +his mother exceedingly.</p> +<p>To my amazement to-day in walked the tremendous Alim from Tunis, +Sheykh Abd-el-Moutovil, who used to look so black at me. He was +very civil and pleasant and asked no end of questions about steam engines, +and telegraphs and chemistry; especially whether it was true that the +Europeans still fancied they could make gold. I said that no one +had believed that for nearly two hundred years, and he said that the +Arabs also knew it was ‘a lie,’ and he wondered to hear +that Europeans, who were so clever, believed it. He had just been +across the Nile to see the tombs of the Kings and of course ‘improved +the occasion’ and uttered a number of the usual fine sayings about +the vanity of human things. He told me I was the only Frank he +had ever spoken to. I observed he did not say a word about religion, +or use the usual pious phrases. By the bye, Sheykh Yussuf filled +up my inkstand for me the other evening and in pouring the ink said +‘Bismillah el-Rachman el-Racheem’ (In the name of God, the +merciful, the compassionate). I said ‘I like that custom, +it is good to remind us that ink may be a cruel poison or a good medicine.’</p> +<p>I am better, and have hardly any cough. The people here think +it is owing to the intercession of Abu-l-Hajjaj who specially protects +me. I was obliged to be wrapped in the green silk cover of his +tomb when it was taken off to be carried in procession, partly for my +health and general welfare, and as a sort of adoption into the family. +I made a feeble resistance on the score of being a Nazraneeyeh but was +told ‘Never fear, does not God know thee and the Sheykh also? +no evil will come to thee on that account but good.’ And +I rather think that general goodwill and kindness is wholesome.</p> +<h3>February 7, 1865: Miss Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Miss Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>February</i> 7, 1865.</p> +<p>My Dearest Charley,</p> +<p>I am tolerably well, but I am growing very homesick—or rather +children-sick. As the time slips on I get more and more the feeling +of all I am losing of my children. We have delicious weather here +and have had all the time; there has been no cold at all this winter +here.</p> +<p>M. Prévost Paradol is here for a few days—a very pleasant +man indeed, and a little good European talk is a very agreeable interlude +to the Arab prosiness, or rather <i>enfantillage</i>, on the part of +the women. I have sought about for shells and a few have been +brought me from the Cataract, but of snails I can learn no tidings nor +have I ever seen one, neither can I discover that there are any shells +in the Nile mud. At the first Cataract they are found sticking +to the rocks. The people here are very stupid about natural objects +that are of no use to them. Like with the French small birds are +all sparrows, and wild flowers there are none, and only about five varieties +of trees in all Egypt.</p> +<p>This is a sad year—all the cattle are dead, the Nile is now +as low as it was last July, and the song of the men watering with the +<i>shadoofs</i> sounds sadly true as they chant <i>Ana ga-ahn</i>, etc. +‘I am hungry, I am hungry for a piece of dourrah bread,’ +sings one, and the other chimes in, <i>Meskeen</i>, <i>meskeen</i> ‘Poor +man, poor man,’ or else they sing a song about Seyyidna Iyoob +‘Our master Job’ and his patience. It is sadly appropriate +now and rings on all sides as the <i>shadoofs</i> are greatly multiplied +for lack of oxen to turn the <i>sakiahs</i> (waterwheels). All +is terribly dear, and many are sick from sheer weakness owing to poor +food; and then I hear fifty thousand are to be taken to work at the +canal from Geezeh to Siout through the Fayoum. The only comfort +is the enormous rise of wages, which however falls heavy on the rich. +The sailors who got forty to fifty piastres five years ago now get three +to five hundred piastres a month. So I fear I must give up my +project of a dahabieh. If the new French Consul-General ‘knows +not Joseph’ and turns me out, I am to live in a new house which +Sheykh Yussuf is now building and of which he would give me the terrace +and build three rooms on it for me. I wish I got better or worse, +and could go home. I do get better, but <i>so</i> slowly, I cough +a good deal at times, and I am very thin, but not so weak as I was or +so breathless.</p> +<h3>February 7, 1867: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>February</i> 7, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I am enjoying a ‘great indulgence of talk’ with M. Prévost +Paradol as heartily as any nigger. He is a delightful person. +This evening he is coming with Arakel Bey, his Armenian companion, and +I will invite a few Arabs to show him. I sent off the proofs yesterday +per passenger steamer. I trust they will arrive safe. It +is too disheartening about letters, so many are lost. I am dreadfully +disappointed in my letters, I <i>really</i> don’t think them good—you +know I don’t <i>blaguer</i> about my own performances. I +am very glad people like my Cape letters which I forget—but honestly +I don’t think the Egyptian good. You know I don’t +‘pretend’ if I think I have done something well and I was +generally content with my translations, but I feel these all to be poor +and what Maurice calls ‘dry’ when I know how curious and +interesting and poetical the country really is.</p> +<p>I paid Fadil Pasha a visit on his boat, and it was just like the +middle ages. In order to amuse me he called up a horrid little +black boy of about four to do tricks like a dancing dog, which ended +in a performance of the Mussulman prayer. The little beast was +dressed in a Stamboulee dress of scarlet cloth.</p> +<p>All the Arab doctors come to see me now as they go up and down the +river to give me help if I want it. Some are very pleasant men. +Mourad Effendi speaks German exactly like a German. The old Sheykh-el-Beled +of Erment who visits me whenever he comes here, and has the sweetest +voice I ever heard, complained of the climate of Cairo. ‘There +is no sun there at all, it is no brighter or warmer than the moon.’ +What do you think our sun must be now you know Cairo. We have +had a glorious winter, like the finest summer weather at home only so +much finer.</p> +<p>Janet wishes to go with me if I go to Soden, I must make enquiries +about the climate. Ross fears it is too cold for an Egyptian like +me. I should enjoy to have all the family <i>au grand complet</i>. +I will leave Luxor in May and get to you towards the latter part of +June, if that pleases you, <i>Inshallah</i>!</p> +<h3>February 7, 1865: Mrs. Ross</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Ross</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>February</i> 7, 1865.</p> +<p>Dearest Janet,</p> +<p>It is quite heartrending about my letters. I have ‘got +the eye’ evidently. The black slave of the poor dragoman +who died in my house is here still, and like a dog that has lost his +master has devoted himself to me. It seems nobody’s business +to take him away—as the Kadee did the money and the goods—and +so it looks as if I should quietly inherit poor ugly Khayr. He +is of a degree of ugliness quite transcendent, with teeth filed sharp +‘in order to eat people’ as he says, but the most good-humoured +creature and a very fair laundry-maid. It is evidently no concern +of mine to send him to be sold in Cairo, so I wait the event. +If nobody ever claims him I shall keep him at whatever wages may seem +fit, and he will subside into liberty. <i>Du reste</i>, the Maōhn +here says he is legally entitled to his freedom. If the new French +Consul-General will let me stay on here I will leave my furniture and +come down straight to your hospitable roof in Alexandria <i>en route</i> +for Europe. I fear my plan of a dahabieh of my own would be too +expensive, the wages of common boatmen now are three napoleons a month. +M. Prévost Paradol, whose company has been a real <i>bonne fortune</i> +to me, will speak to the Consul-General. I know all Thebes would +sign a round-robin in my favour if they only knew how, for I am very +popular here, and the only <i>Hakeen</i>. I have effected some +brilliant cures, and get lots of presents. Eggs, turkeys, etc., +etc., it is quite a pleasure to see how the poor people instead of trying +to sponge on one are anxious to make a return for kindness. I +give nothing whatever but my physick. These country people are +very good. A nice young Circassian Cawass sat up with a stranger, +a dying Englishman, all night because I had doctored his wife. +I have also a pupil, Mustapha’s youngest boy, a sweet intelligent +lad who is pining for an education. I wish he could go to England. +He speaks English very well and reads and writes indifferently, but +I never saw a boy so wild to learn. Is it difficult to get a boy +into the Abbassieh college? as it is gratuitous I suppose it is. +I quite grieve over little Ach met forced to dawdle away his time and +his faculties here.</p> +<h3>March 13, 1865: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>March</i> 13, 1865.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I hope your mind has not been disturbed by any rumours of ‘battle, +murder and sudden death’ up in our part of the world. A +week ago we heard that a Prussian boat had been attacked, all on board +murdered, and the boat burned; then that ten villages were in open revolt, +and that Effendina (the Viceroy) himself had come up and ‘taken +a broom and swept them clean’ <i>i.e</i>.—exterminated the +inhabitants. The truth now appears to be that a crazy darweesh +has made a disturbance—but I will tell it as I heard it. +He did as his father likewise did thirty years ago, made himself <i>Ism</i> +(name) by repeating one of the appellations of God, like <i>Ya Latif</i> +three thousand times every night for three years which rendered him +invulnerable. He then made friends with a Jinn who taught him +many more tricks—among others, that practised in England by the +Davenports of slipping out of any bonds. He then deluded the people +of the desert by giving himself out as <i>El-Mahdi</i> (he who is to +come with the Lord Jesus and to slay Antichrist at the end of the world), +and proclaimed a revolt against the Turks. Three villages below +Keneh—Gau, Rayanaeh and Bedeh took part in the disturbance, and +Fodl Pasha came up with steamboats, burnt the villages, shot about one +hundred men and devastated the fields. At first we heard one thousand +were shot, now it is one hundred. The women and children will +be distributed among other villages. The darweesh some say is +killed, others that he is gone off into the desert with a body of bedaween +and a few of the fellaheen from the three ravaged villages. Gau +is a large place—as large, I think as Luxor. The darweesh +is a native of Salamieh, a village close by here, and yesterday his +brother, a very quiet man, and his father’s father-in-law old +Hajjee Sultan were carried off prisoners to Cairo, or Keneh, we don’t +know which. It seems that the boat robbed belonged to Greek traders, +but no one was hurt, I believe, and no European boat has been molested.</p> +<p>Baron Kevenbrinck was here yesterday with his wife, and they saw +all the sacking of the villages and said no resistance was offered by +the people whom the soldiers shot down as they ran, and they saw the +sheep etc. being driven off by the soldiers. You need be in no +alarm about me. The darweesh and his followers could not pounce +on us as we are eight good miles from the desert, <i>i.e</i>. the mountain, +so we must have timely notice, and we have arranged that if they appear +in the neighbourhood the women and children of the outlying huts should +come into my house which is a regular fortress, and also any travellers +in boats, and we muster little short of seven hundred men able to fight +including Karnac, moreover Fodl Pasha and the troops are at Keneh only +forty miles off.</p> +<p>Three English boats went down river to-day and one came up. +The Kevenbrincks went up last night. I dined with them, she is +very lively and pleasant. I nearly died of laughing to-day when +little Achmet came for his lesson. He pronounced that he was sick +of love for her. He played at cards with her yesterday afternoon +and it seems lost his heart (he is twelve and quite a boyish boy, though +a very clever one) and he said he was wishing to play a game for a kiss +as the stake. He had put on a turban to-day, on the strength of +his passion, to look like a man, and had neglected his dress otherwise +because ‘when young men are sick of love they always do so.’ +The fact is the Baroness was kind and amiable and tried to amuse him +as she would have done to a white boy, hence Achmet’s susceptible +heart was ‘on fire for her.’ He also asked me if I +had any medicine to make him white, I suppose to look lovely in her +eyes. He little knows how very pretty he is with his brown face—as +he sits cross-legged on the carpet at my feet in his white turban and +blue shirt reading aloud—he was quite a picture. I have +grown very fond of the little fellow, he is so eager to learn and to +improve and so remarkably clever.</p> +<p>My little Achmet, who is donkey-boy and general little slave, the +smallest slenderest quietest little creature, has implored me to take +him with me to England. I wish Rainie could see him, she would +be so ‘arprized’ at his dark brown little face, so <i>fein</i>, +and with eyes like a dormouse. He is a true little Arab—can +run all day in the heat, sleeps on the stones and eats anything—quick, +gentle and noiseless and fiercely jealous. If I speak to any other +boy he rushes at him and drives him away, and while black Khayr was +in the house, he suffered martyrdom and the kitchen was a scene of incessant +wrangle about the coffee. Khayr would bring me my coffee and Achmet +resented the usurpation of his functions—of course quite hopelessly, +as Khayr was a great stout black of eighteen and poor little Achmet +not bigger than Rainie. I am really tempted to adopt the vigilant +active little creature.</p> +<p><i>March</i> 15.—Sheykh Yussuf returned from a visit to Salamieh +last night. He tells me the darweesh Achmet et-Tayib is not dead, +he believes that he is a mad fanatic and a communist. He wants +to divide all property equally and to kill all the Ulema and destroy +all theological teaching by learned men and to preach a sort of revelation +or interpretation of the Koran of his own. ‘He would break +up your pretty clock,’ said Yussuf, ‘and give every man +a broken wheel out of it, and so with all things.’</p> +<p>One of the dragomans here had been urging me to go down but Yussuf +laughed at any idea of danger, he says the people here have fought the +bedaween before and will not be attacked by such a handful as are out +in the mountain now; <i>du reste</i> the Abu-l-Hajjajieh (family of +Abu-l-Hajjaj) will ‘put their seal’ to it that I am their +sister and answer for me with a man’s life. It would be +foolish to go down into whatever disturbance there may be alone in a +small country boat and where I am not known. The Pasha himself +we hear is at Girgeh with steamboats and soldiers, and if the slightest +fear should arise steamers will be sent up to fetch all the Europeans. +What I grieve over is the poor villagers whose little property is all +confiscated, guilty and innocent alike, and many shot as they ran away. +Hajjee Ali tells me privately that he believes the discontent against +the Government is very deep and universal and that there will be an +outbreak—but not yet. The Pasha’s attempt to regulate +the price of food by edicts has been very disastrous, and of course +the present famine prices are laid to his charge—if a man will +be omnipotent he must take the consequences when he fails. I don’t +believe in an outbreak—I think the people are too thoroughly accustomed +to suffer and to obey, besides they have no means of communication, +and the steamboats can run up and down and destroy them <i>en détail</i> +in a country which is eight hundred miles long by from one to eight +wide, and thinly peopled. Only Cairo could do anything, and everything +is done to please the Cairenes at the expense of the fellaheen.</p> +<p>The great heat has begun these last three days. My cough is +better and I am grown fatter again. The Nile is so low that I +fancy that six weeks or two months hence I shall have to go down in +two little boats—even now the dahabiehs keep sticking fast continually. +I have promised some neighbours to bring back a little seed corn for +them, some of the best English wheat without beard. All the wheat +here is bearded and they have an ambition for some of ours. I +long to bring them wheelbarrows and spades and pickaxes. The great +folks get steamploughs, but the labourers work with their bare hands +and a rush basket <i>pour tout potage</i>, and it takes six to do the +work of one who has got good tools.</p> +<h3>March 25, 1865: Mrs. Ross</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Ross</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>March</i> 25, 1865.</p> +<p>Dearest Janet,</p> +<p>I hope you have not had visions of me plundered and massacred by +the crazy darweesh who has caused the destruction of Gau and three other +villages. I assure you we are quite quiet here and moreover have +arranged matters for our defence if Achmet et Tayib should honour us +with a visit. The heat has just set in, thermometer 89° to-day, +of course I am much better, fatter and cough less.</p> +<p>Many thanks to Henry about Achmet Ibn-Mustapha, but his father is +going to send him to England into Mr. Fowler’s workshop, which +will be a much better training I think. Mr. Fowler takes him without +a premium most kindly. Lord Dudley will tell you what a splendid +entertainment I gave him; I think he was quite frightened at the sight +of the tray and the black fingers in the dishes.</p> +<p>The Abab’deh Sheykh and his handsome brother propose to take +me to the moolid of Sheykh-el-Shadhilee (the coffee saint) in the desert +to see all the wild Abab’deh and Bishareeyeh. It is very +tempting, if I feel pretty well I must go I think and perhaps the change +might do me good. They believe no European ever went to that festival. +There are camel-races and a great show of pretty girls says the handsome +Hassan. A fine young Circassian cawass here has volunteered to +be my servant anywhere and to fight anybody for me because I have cured +his pretty wife. You would love Kursheed with his clear blue eyes, +fair face and brisk neat soldierly air. He has a Crimean medal +and such a lot of daggers and pistols and is such a tremendous Muslim, +but never-the-less he loves me and tells me all his affairs and how +tiresome his wife’s mother is. I tell him all wives’ +mothers always are, but he swears <i>Wallahi</i>, <i>Howagah</i> (Mr.) +Ross don’t say so, <i>Wallahi</i>, <i>Inshallah</i>!</p> +<h3>March 30, 1865: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>March</i> 30, 1865.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I have just received your letter of March 3 with one from Janet, +which shows of how little moment the extermination of four villages +is in this country, for she does not allude to our revolt and evidently +has not heard of it.</p> +<p>In my last letter to Mutter I told how one Achmet et Tayib, a mad +darweesh had raised a riot at Gau below Keneh and how a boat had been +robbed and how we were all rather looking out for a <i>razzia</i> and +determined to fight Achmet et Tayib and his followers. Then we +called them <i>harámee</i> (wicked ones) and were rather blood-thirstily +disposed towards them and resolved to keep order and protect our property. +But now we say <i>nas messakeen</i> (poor people) and whisper to each +other that God will not forget what the Pasha has done. The truth +of course we shall never know. But I do know that one Pasha said +he had hanged five hundred, and another that he had sent three hundred +to Fazoghlou (<i>comme qui dirait Cayenne</i>) and all for the robbery +of one Greek boat in which only the steersman was killed. I cannot +make out that anything was done by the ‘insurgents’ beyond +going out into the desert to listen to the darweesh’s nonsense, +and ‘see a reed shaken by the wind;’ the party that robbed +the boat was, I am told, about forty strong. But the most horrid +stories are current among the people of the atrocities committed on +the wretched villagers by the soldiers. Not many were shot, they +say, and they attempted no resistance, but the women and girls were +outraged and murdered and the men hanged and the steamers loaded with +plunder. The worst is that every one believes that the Europeans +aid and abet, and all declare that the Copts were spared to please the +<i>Frangees</i>. Mind I am not telling you <i>facts</i> only what +the people are saying—in order to show you their feelings. +One most respectable young man sat before me on the floor the other +day and told me what he had heard from those who had come up the river. +Horrible tales of the stench of the bodies which are left unburied by +the Pasha’s order—of women big with child ripped open, etc., +etc. ‘Thou knowest oh! our Lady, that we are people of peace +in this place, and behold now if one madman should come and a few idle +fellows go out to the mountain (desert) with him, Effendina will send +his soldiers to destroy the place and spoil our poor little girls and +hang us—is that right, oh Lady and Achmet el-Berberi saw Europeans +with hats in the steamer with Effendina and the soldiers. Truly +in all the world none are miserable like us Arabs. The Turks beat +us, and the Europeans hate us and say <i>quite right</i>. By God, +we had better lay down our heads in the dust (die) and let the strangers +take our land and grow cotton for themselves. As for me I am tired +of this miserable life and of fearing for my poor little girls.’</p> +<p>Mahommed was really eloquent, and when he threw his <i>melayeh</i> +over his face and sobbed, I am not ashamed to say that I cried too. +I know very well that Mahommed was not quite wrong in what he says of +the Europeans. I know the cruel old platitudes about governing +Orientals by fear which the English pick up like mocking birds from +the Turks. I know all about ‘the stick’ and ‘vigour’ +and all that—but—‘I sit among the people’ and +I know too that Mohammed feels just as John Smith or Tom Brown would +feel in his place, and that men who were very savage against the rioters +in the beginning, are now almost in a humour to rise against the Turks +themselves just exactly as free-born Britons might be. There are +even men of the class who have something to lose who express their disgust +very freely.</p> +<p>I saw the steamer pass up to Fazoghlou but the prisoners were all +below. The Sheykh of the Abab’deh here has had to send a +party of his men to guard them through the desert. Altogether +this year is miserable in Egypt. I have not once heard the <i>zaghareet</i>. +Every one is anxious and depressed, and I fear hungry, the land is parched +from the low Nile, the heat has set in six weeks earlier than usual, +the animals are scarecrows for want of food, and now these horrid stories +of bloodshed and cruelty and robbery (for the Pasha takes the lands +of these villages for his own) have saddened every face. I think +Hajjee Ali is right and that there will be more disturbances. +If there are they will be caused by the cruelty and oppression at Gau +and the three neighbouring villages. From Salamieh, two miles +above Luxor, every man woman and child in any degree kin to Achmet et-Tayib +has been taken in chains to Keneh and no one here expects to see one +of them return alive. Some are remarkably good men, I hear, and +I have heard men say ‘if Hajjee Sultan is killed and all his family +we will never do a good action any more, for we see it is of no use.’</p> +<p>There was a talk among the three or four Europeans here at the beginning +of the rumours of a revolt of organizing a defence among Christians +only. Conceive what a silly and gratuitous provocation! +There was no religion in the business at all and of course the proper +person to organize defence was the Maōhn, and he and Mustapha and +others had planned using my house as a castle and defending that in +case of a visit from the rioters. I have no doubt the true cause +of the row is the usual one—hunger—the high price of food. +It was like our Swing, or bread riots, nothing more and a very feeble +affair too. It is curious to see the travellers’ gay dahabiehs +just as usual and the Europeans as far removed from all care or knowledge +of the distresses as if they were at home. When I go and sit with +the English I feel almost as if they were foreigners to me too, so completely +am I now <i>Dint el-Beled</i> (daughter of the country) here.</p> +<p>I dined three days running with the Kevenbrincks and one day after +dinner we sent for a lot of Arab Sheykhs to come for coffee—the +two Abab’deh and a relation of theirs from Khartoum, the Sheykh +of Karnac, one Mohammed a rich fellah, and we were joined by the A’gha +of Halim Pasha’s Hareem, and an ugly beast he is. The little +Baroness won all hearts. She is a regular <i>vif argent</i> or +as we say <i>Efreeteh</i> and to see the dark faces glittering with +merry smiles as they watched her was very droll. I never saw a +human being so thoroughly amused as the black Sheykh from the Soudan. +Next day we dined at the Austrian agent’s and the Baroness at +last made the Maōhn dance a polka with her while the agent played +the guitar. There were a lot of Copts about who nearly died of +laughing and indeed so did I. Next day we had a capital dinner +at Mustapha’s, and the two Abab’deh Sheykhs, the Sheykh +of Karnac, the Maōhn and Sheykh Yussuf dined with us. The +Sheykh of Karnac gave a grand performance of eating like a Bedawee. +I have heard you talk of <i>tripas elasticas</i> in Spain but <i>Wallahi</i>! +anything like the performance of Sheykh Abdallah none but an eyewitness +could believe. How he plucked off the lamb’s head and handed +it to me in token of the highest respect, and how the bones cracked +beneath his fingers—how huge handfuls of everything were chucked +right down his throat all scorching hot. I encouraged him of course, +quoting the popular song about ‘doing deeds that Antar did not’ +and we all grew quite uproarious. When Sheykh Abdallah asked for +drink, I cried ‘bring the <i>ballaree</i> (the big jar the women +fetch water in) for the Sheykh,’ and Sheykh Yussuf compared him +to Samson and to Og, while I more profanely told how Antar broke the +bones and threw them about. The little Baroness was delighted +and only expressed herself hurt that no one had crammed anything into +her mouth. I told the Maōhn her disappointment which caused +more laughter as such a custom is unknown here, but he of course made +no end of sweet speeches to her. After dinner she showed the Arabs +how ladies curtsey to the Queen in England, and the Abab’deh acted +the ceremonial of presentation at the court of Darfour, where you have +to rub your nose in the dust at the King’s feet. Then we +went out with lanterns and torches and the Abab’deh did the sword +dance for us. Two men with round shields and great straight swords +do it. One dances a <i>pas seul</i> of challenge and defiance +with prodigious leaps and pirouettes and Hah! Hahs! Then the other +comes and a grand fight ensues. When the handsome Sheykh Hassan +(whom you saw in Cairo) bounded out it really was heroic. All +his attitudes were alike grand and graceful. They all wanted Sheykh +Yussuf to play <i>el-Neboot</i> (single stick) and said he was the best +man here at it, but his sister was not long dead and he could not. +Hassan looks forward to Maurice’s coming here to teach him ‘the +fighting of the English.’ How Maurice would pound him!</p> +<p>On the fourth night I went to tea in Lord Hopetoun’s boat and +their sailors gave a grand <i>fantasia</i> excessively like a Christmas +pantomime. One danced like a woman, and there was a regular pantaloon +only ‘more so,’ and a sort of clown in sheepskin and a pink +mask who was duly tumbled about, and who distributed <i>claques</i> +freely with a huge wooden spoon. It was very good fun indeed, +though it was quite as well that the ladies did not understand the dialogue, +or that part of the dance which made the Maōhn roar with laughter. +The Hopetouns had two handsome boats and were living like in May Fair. +I am so used now to our poor shabby life that it makes quite a strange +impression on me to see all that splendour—splendour which a year +or two ago I should not even have remarked—and thus out of ‘my +inward consciousness’ (as Germans say), many of the peculiarities +and faults of the people of Egypt are explained to me and accounted +for.</p> +<p><i>April</i> 2.—It is so dreadfully hot and dusty that I shall +rather hasten my departure if I can. The winds seem to have begun, +and as all the land which last year was green is now desert and dry +the dust is four times as bad. If I hear that Ross has bought +and sent up a dahabieh I will wait for that, if not I will go in three +weeks if I can.</p> +<h3>April 3, 1865: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>April</i> 3, 1865.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I have just finished a letter to Alick to go by a steamer to-day. +You will see it, so I will go on with the stories about the riots. +Here is a thing happening within a few weeks and within sixty miles, +and already the events assume a legendary character. Achmet et-Tayib +is not dead and where the bullets hit him he shows little marks like +burns. The affair began thus: A certain Copt had a Muslim slave-girl +who could read the Koran and who served him. He wanted her to +be his Hareem and she refused and went to Achmet et-Tayib who offered +money for her to her master. He refused it and insisted on his +rights, backed by the Government, and thereupon Achmet proclaimed a +revolt and the people, tired of taxes and oppressions, said ‘we +will go with thee.’ This is the only bit of religious legend +connected with the business. But Achmet et-Tayib still sits in +the Island, invisible to the Turkish soldiers who are still there.</p> +<p>Now for a little fact. The man who told me fourteen hundred +had been beheaded was Hassan Sheykh of the Abab’deh who went to +Gau to bring up the prisoners. The boat stopped a mile above Luxor, +and my Mohammed, a most quiet respectable man and not at all a romancer +went up in her to El-Moutaneh. I rode with him along the Island. +When we came near the boat she went on as far as the point of the Island, +and I turned back after only looking at her from the bank and smelling +the smell of a slave-ship. It never occurred to me, I own, that +the Bey on board had fled before a solitary woman on a donkey, but so +it was. He told the Abab’deh Sheykh on board not to speak +to me or to let me on board, and told the Captain to go a mile or two +further. Mohammed heard all this. He found on board ‘one +hundred prisoners less two’ (ninety-eight). Among them the +Moudir of Souhaj, a Turk, in chains and wooden handcuffs like the rest. +Mohammed took him some coffee and was civil to him. He says the +poor creatures are dreadfully ill-used by the Abab’deh and the +Nubians (Berberi) who guard them.</p> +<p>It is more curious than you can conceive to hear all the people say. +It is just like going back four or five centuries at least, but with +the heterogeneous element of steamers, electric telegraphs and the Bey’s +dread of the English lady’s pen—at least Mohammed attributed +his flight to fear of that weapon. It was quite clear that European +eyes were dreaded, as the boat stopped three miles above Luxor and its +dahabiehs, and had all its things carried that distance.</p> +<p>Yussuf and his uncle want to take me next year to Mecca, the good +folks in Mecca would hardly look for a heretical face under the green +veil of a <i>Shereefateh</i> of Abu-l-Hajjaj. The Hajjees (pilgrims) +have just started from here to Cosseir with camels and donkeys, but +most are on foot. They are in great numbers this year. The +women chanted and drummed all night on the river bank, and it was fine +to see fifty or sixty men in a line praying after their Imám +with the red glow of the sunset behind them. The prayer in common +is quite a drill and very stately to see. There are always quite +as many women as men; one wonders how they stand the march and the hardships.</p> +<p>My little Achmet grows more pressing with me to take him. I +will take him to Alexandria, I think, and leave him in Janet’s +house to learn more house service. He is a dear little boy and +very useful. I don’t suppose his brother will object and +he has no parents. Achmet ibn-Mustapha also coaxes me to take +him with me to Alexandria, and to try again to persuade his father to +send him to England to Mr. Fowler. I wish most heartily I could. +He is an uncommon child in every way, full of ardour to learn and do +something, and yet childish and winning and full of fun. His pretty +brown face is quite a pleasure to me. His remarks on the New Testament +teach me as many things as I can teach him. The boy is pious and +not at all ill taught, he is much pleased to find so little difference +between the teaching of the Koran and the <i>Aangeel</i>. He wanted +me, in case Omar did not go with me, to take him to serve me. +Here there is no idea of its being derogatory for a gentleman’s +son to wait on one who teaches him, it is positively incumbent. +He does all ‘menial offices’ for his mother, hands coffee, +waits at table or helps Omar in anything if I have company, nor will +he eat or smoke before me, or sit till I tell him—it is like service +in the middle ages.</p> +<h3>April 3, 1865: Mrs. Ross</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Ross</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>April</i> 3, 1865.</p> +<p>Dearest Janet,</p> +<p>The weather has set in so horrid, as to dust, that I shall be glad +to get away as soon as I can. If you have bought a dahabieh for +me of course I will await its arrival. If not I will have two +small boats from Keneh, whereby I shall avoid sticking in this very +low water. Sheykh Hassan goes down in his boat in twenty days +and urges me to travel under his escort, as of course the poor devils +who are ‘out on their keeping’ after the Gau business have +no means of living left but robbery, and Sheykh Hassan’s party +is good for seven or eight guns. You will laugh at my listening +to such a cowardly proposition (on my part) but my friends here are +rather bent upon it, and Hassan is a capital fellow. If therefore +the dahabieh is <i>in rerum naturæ</i> and can start at once, +well and good.</p> +<p><i>April</i> 14.—The dahabieh sounds an excellent bargain to +me and good for you also to get your people to Assouan first. +Many thanks for the arrangement.</p> +<p>Your version of our massacre is quite curious to us here. I +know very intimately the Sheykh-el-Arab who helped to catch the poor +people and also a young Turk who stood by while Fadil Pasha had the +men laid down by ten at a time and chopped with pioneers’ axes. +My Turkish friend (a very good-humoured young fellow) quite admired +the affair and expressed a desire to do likewise to all the fellaheen +in Egypt. I have seen with my own eyes a second boatload of prisoners. +I wish to God the Pasha knew the deep exasperation which his subordinates +are causing. I do not like to say all I hear. As to the +Ulema, Kadees, Muftis, etc., I know many from towns and villages, and +all say ‘We are Muslims, but we should thank God to send Europeans +to govern us,’ the feeling is against the Government and the Turks +up here—not against Christians. A Coptic friend of mine +has lost all his uncle’s family at Gau, all were shot down—Copt +and Christian alike. As to Hajjee Sultan, who lies in chains at +Keneh and his family up at Esneh, a better man never lived, nor one +more liberal to Christians. Copts ate of his bread as freely as +Muslims. He lies there because he is distantly related by marriage +to Achmet et-Tayib, the real reason is because he is wealthy and some +enemy covets his goods.</p> +<p>Ask M. Mounier what he knows. Perhaps I know even more of the +feeling as I am almost adopted by the Abu-l-Hajjajeeah, and sit every +evening with some party or another of decent men. I assure you +I am in despair at all I see—and if the soldiers do come it will +be worse than the cattle disease. Are not the cawasses bad enough? +Do they not buy in the market at their own prices and beat the sakkas +in sole payment for the skins of water? Who denies it here? +Cairo is like Paris, things are kept sweet there, but up here—! +Of course Effendina hears the ‘smooth prophecies’ of the +tyrants whom he sends up river. When I wrote before I knew nothing +certain but now I have eye-witnesses’ testimony, and I say that +the Pasha deceives or is deceived—I hope the latter. An +order from him did stop the slaughter of women and children which Fadil +Pasha was about to effect.</p> +<p>To turn to less wretched matters. I will come right down Alexandria +with the boat, I shall rejoice to see you again.</p> +<p>Possibly the Abab’deh may come with me and I hope Sheykh Yussuf, +‘my chaplain’ as Arthur Taylor called him. We shall +be quite a little fleet.</p> +<h3>April, 1865: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<i>April</i>, 1865.</p> +<p>Dearest Alexander,</p> +<p>Yesterday was the Bairam I rejoice to say and I have lots of physic +to make up, for all the stomachs damaged by Ramadan.</p> +<p>I have persuaded Mr. Fowler the engineer who was with Lord Dudley +to take my dear little pupil Achmet son of Ibn Mustapha to learn the +business at Leeds instead of idling in his father’s house here. +I will give the child a letter to you in case he should go to London. +He has been reading the gospels with me at his own desire. I refused +till I had asked his father’s consent, and Sheykh Yussuf who heard +me begged me by all means to make him read it carefully so as to guard +him against the heretical inventions he might be beset with among the +English ‘of the vulgar sort.’ What a poser for a missionary!</p> +<p>I sent down the poor black lad with Arakel Bey. He took leave +of me with his ugly face all blubbered like a sentimental hippopotamus. +He said ‘for himself, he wished to stay with me, but then what +would his boy, his little master do—there was only a stepmother +who would take all the money, and who else would work for the boy?’ +Little Achmet was charmed to see Khayr go, of whom he chose to be horribly +jealous, and to be wroth at all he did for me. Now the Sheykh-el-Beled +of Baidyeh has carried off my watchman, and the Christian Sheykh-el-Hara +of our quarter of Luxor has taken the boy Yussuf for the Canal. +The former I successfully resisted and got back Mansoor, not indeed +<i>incolumes</i> for <i>he</i> had been handcuffed and bastinadoed to +make <i>me</i> pay 200 piastres, but he bore it like a man rather than +ask me for the money and was thereupon surrendered. But the Copt +will be a tougher business—he will want more money and be more +resolved to get it. <i>Veremus</i>. I must I suppose go +to the Nazir at the Canal—a Turk—and beg off my donkey boy.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/ill231b.jpg"> +<img alt="Sir Alexander Duff Gordon, from sketch by G. F. Watts, R.A." src="images/ill231s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>I saw Hassan Sheykh-el-Abab’deh yesterday, who was loud in +praise of your good looks and gracious manners. ‘Mashallah, +thy master is a sweet man, O Lady!’</p> +<p>Yesterday was Bairam, and lots of Hareem came in their best clothes +to wish me a happy year and enjoyed themselves much with sweet cakes, +coffee, and pipes. Kursheed’s wife (whom I cured completely) +looked very handsome. Kursheed is a Circassian, a fine young fellow +much shot and hacked about and with a Crimean medal. He is cawass +here and a great friend of mine. He says if I ever want a servant +he will go with me anywhere and fight anybody—which I don’t +doubt in the least. He was a Turkish memlook and his condescension +in wishing to serve a Christian woman is astounding. His fair +face and clear blue eyes, and brisk, neat, soldier-like air contrast +curiously with the brown fellaheen. He is like an Englishman only +fairer and like them too fond of the courbash. What would you +say if I appeared in Germany attended by a memlook with pistols, sword, +dagger, carbine and courbash, and with a decided and imperious manner +the very reverse of the Arab softness—and such a Muslim too—prays +five times a day and extra fasts besides Ramadan. ‘I beat +my wife’ said Kursheed, ‘oh! I beat her well! she +talked so, and I am like the English, I don’t like too many words.’ +He was quite surprised that I said I was glad <i>my</i> master didn’t +dislike talking so much.</p> +<p>I was talking the other day with Yussuf about people trying to make +converts and I said that eternal bêtise, ‘Oh they mean well.’ +‘True, oh Lady! perhaps they do mean well, but God says in the +Noble Koran that he who injures or torments those Christians whose conduct +is not evil, merely on account of religion, shall never smell the fragrance +of the Garden (paradise). Now when men begin to want to make others +change their faith it is extremely hard for them <i>not</i> to injure +or torment them and therefore I think it better to abstain altogether +and to wish rather to see a Christian a good Christian and a Muslim +a good Muslim.’</p> +<p>No wonder a most pious old Scotchman told me that the truth which +undeniably existed in the Mussulman faith was the work of Satan and +the Ulema his <i>meenesters</i>. My dear saint of a Yussuf a <i>meenester</i> +of Satan! I really think I <i>have</i> learnt some ‘Muslim +humility’ in that I endured the harangue, and accepted a two-penny +tract quite mildly and politely and didn’t argue at all. +As his friend ‘Satan’ would have it, the Fikees were reading +the Koran in the hall at Omar’s expense who gave a Khatmeh that +day, and Omar came in and politely offered him some sweet prepared for +the occasion. I have been really amazed at several instances of +English fanaticism this year. Why do people come to a Mussulman +country with such bitter hatred ‘in their stomachs’ as I +have seen three or four times. I feel quite hurt often at the +way the people here thank me for what the poor at home would turn up +their noses at. I think hardly a dragoman has been up the river +since Rashedee died but has come to thank me as warmly as if I had done +himself some great service—and many to give some little present. +While the man was ill numbers of the fellaheen brought eggs, pigeons, +etc. etc. even a turkey, and food is worth money now, not as it used +to be. I am quite weary too of hearing ‘Of all the Frangee +I never saw one like thee.’ Was no one ever at all humane +before? For remember I give no money—only a little physic +and civility. How the British cottagers would ‘thank ye +for nothing’—and how I wish my neighbours here could afford +to do the same.</p> +<p>After much wrangling Mustapha has got back my boy Yussuf but the +Christian Sheykh-el-Hara has made his brother pay £2 whereat Mohammed +looks very rueful. Two hundred men are gone out of our village +to the works and of course the poor Hareem have not bread to eat as +the men had to take all they had with them. I send you a very +pretty story like Tannhäuser.</p> +<p>There was once a man who loved a woman that lived in the same quarter. +But she was true to her husband, and his love was hopeless, and he suffered +greatly. One day as he lay on his carpet sick with love, one came +to him and said, O, such-a-one, thy beloved has died even now, and they +are carrying her out to the tomb. So the lover arose and followed +the funeral, and hid himself near the tomb, and when all were gone he +broke it open, and uncovered the face of his beloved, and looked upon +her, and passion overcame him, and he took from the dead that which +when living she had ever denied him.</p> +<p>But he went back to the city and to his house in great grief and +anguish of mind, and his sin troubled him. So he went to a Kadee, +very pious and learned in the noble Koran, and told him his case, and +said, ‘Oh my master the Kadee, can such a one as I obtain salvation +and the forgiveness of God? I fear not.’ And the Kadee +gave him a staff of polished wood which he held in his hand, and said +‘Who knoweth the mercy of God and his justice, but God alone—take +then this staff and stick it in the sand beside the tomb where thou +didst sin and leave it the night, and go next morning and come and tell +me what thou shalt find, and may the Lord pardon thee, for thy sin is +great.’</p> +<p>And the man went and did as the Kadee had desired, and went again +at sunrise, and behold the staff had sprouted and was covered with leaves +and fruit. And he returned and told the Kadee what had happened, +and the Kadee replied, ‘Praise be to God, the merciful, the compassionate.’</p> +<h3>April 29, 1865: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>April</i> 29, 1865.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>Since I wrote last I have received the box with the cheese quite +fresh (and very good it tastes), and the various things. Nothing +called forth such a shout of joy from me as your photo of the village +pothouse. How green and fresh and tidy! Many Mashallah’s +have been uttered over the <i>beyt-el-fellaheen</i> (peasant’s +house) of England. The railings, especially, are a great marvel. +I have also heard from Janet that Ross has bought me a boat for £200 +which is to take four of his agents to Assouan and then come back for +me. So all my business is settled, and, <i>Inshallah</i>! I shall +depart in another three or four weeks.</p> +<p>The weather is quite cool and fresh again but the winds very violent +and the dust pours over us like water from the dried up land, as well +as from the Goomeh mountain. It is miserably uncomfortable, but +my health is much better again—spite of all.</p> +<p>The Hakeem business goes on at a great rate. I think on an +average I have four sick a day. Sometimes a dozen. A whole +gipsy camp are great customers—the poor souls will bring all manner +of gifts it goes to my heart to eat, but they can’t bear to be +refused. They are astounded to hear that people of their blood +live in England and that I knew many of their customs—which are +the same here.</p> +<p>Kursheed Agha came to take final leave being appointed to Keneh. +He had been at Gau and had seen Fadil Pasha sit and make the soldiers +lay sixty men down on their backs by ten at a time and <i>chop</i> them +to death with the pioneers’ axes. He estimated the people +killed—men, women, and children at 1,600—but Mounier tells +me it was over 2,000. Sheykh Hassan agreed exactly with Kursheed, +only the Arab was full of horror and the Circassian full of exultation. +His talk was exactly what we all once heard about ‘Pandies,’ +and he looked and talked and laughed so like a fine young English soldier, +that I was ashamed to call him the kelb (dog) which rose to my tongue, +and I bestowed it on Fadil Pasha instead. I must also say in behalf +of my own countrymen that they <i>had</i> provocation while here there +was none. Poor Haggee Sultan lies in chains at Keneh. One +of the best and kindest of men! I am to go and take secret messages +to him, and money from certain men of religion to bribe the Moudir with. +The Shurafa who have asked me to do this are from another place, as +well as a few of the Abu-l-Hajjajieh. A very great Shereef indeed +from lower Egypt, said to me the other day, ‘Thou knowest if I +am a Muslim or no. Well, I pray to the most Merciful to send us +Europeans to govern us, and to deliver us from these wicked men.’ +We were all sitting after the funeral of one of the Shurafa and I was +sitting between the Shereef of Luxor and the Imám—and this +was said before thirty or forty men, all Shurafa. No one said +‘No,’ and many assented aloud.</p> +<p>The Shereef asked me to lend him the New Testament, it was a pretty +copy and when he admired it I said, ‘From me to thee, oh my master +the Shereef, write in it as we do in remembrance of a friend—the +gift of a Nazraneeyeh who loves the Muslimeen.’ The old +man kissed the book and said ‘I will write moreover—to a +Muslim who loves all such Christians’—and after this the +old Sheykh of Abou Ali took me aside and asked me to go as messenger +to Haggee Sultan for if one of them took the money it would be taken +from them and the man get no good by it.</p> +<p>Soldiers are now to be quartered in the Saeed—a new plague +worse than all the rest. Do not the cawasses already rob the poor +enough? They fix their own price in the market and beat the sakkas +as sole payment. What will the soldiers do? The taxes are +being illegally levied on lands which are <i>sheragi</i>, <i>i.e</i>. +totally unwatered by the last Nile and therefore exempt <i>by law</i>—and +the people are driven to desperation. I feel sure there will be +more troubles as soon as there arises any other demagogue like Achmet +et-Tayib to incite the people and now every Arab sympathises with him. +Janet has written me the Cairo version of the affair cooked for the +European taste—and monstrous it is. The Pasha accuses some +Sheykh of the Arabs of having gone from Upper Egypt to India to stir +up the Mutiny against us! <i>Pourquoi pas</i> to conspire in Paris +or London? It is too childish to talk of a poor Saeedee Arab going +to a country of whose language and whereabouts he is totally ignorant, +in order to conspire against people who never hurt him. You may +suppose how Yussuf and I talk by ourselves of all these things. +He urged me to try hard to get my husband here as Consul-General—assuming +that he would feel as I do. I said, my master is not young, and +to a just man the wrong of such a place would be a martyrdom. +‘Truly thou hast said it, but it is a martyr we Arabs want; shall +not the reward of him who suffers daily vexation for his brethren’s +sake be equal to that of him who dies in battle for the faith? +If thou wert a man, I would say to thee, take the labour and sorrow +upon thee, and thine own heart will repay thee.’ He too +said like the old Sheykh, ‘I only pray for Europeans to rule us—now +the fellaheen are really worse off than any slaves.’ I am +sick of telling of the daily oppressions and robberies. If a man +has a sheep, the Moodir comes and eats it, if a tree, it goes to the +Nazir’s kitchen. My poor sakka is beaten by the cawasses +in sole payment of his skins of water—and then people wonder my +poor friends tell lies and bury their money.</p> +<p>I now know everybody in my village and the ‘cunning women’ +have set up the theory that my eye is lucky; so I am asked to go and +look at young brides, visit houses that are building, inspect cattle, +etc. as a bringer of good luck—which gives me many a curious sight.</p> +<p>I went a few days ago to the wedding of handsome Sheykh Hassan the +Abab’deh, who married the butcher’s pretty little daughter. +The group of women and girls lighted by the lantern which little Achmet +carried up for me was the most striking thing I have seen. The +bride—a lovely girl of ten or eleven all in scarlet, a tall dark +slave of Hassan’s blazing with gold and silver necklaces and bracelets, +with long twisted locks of coal black hair and such glittering eyes +and teeth, the wonderful wrinkled old women, and the pretty, wondering, +yet fearless children were beyond description. The mother brought +the bride up to me and unveiled her and asked me to let her kiss my +hand, and to look at her, I said all the usual <i>Bismillah Mashallah’s</i>, +and after a time went to the men who were eating, all but Hassan who +sat apart and who begged me to sit by him, and whispered anxious enquiries +about his <i>aroosah’s</i> looks. After a time he went to +visit her and returned in half an hour very shy and covering his face +and hand and kissed the hands of the chief guests. Then we all +departed and the girl was taken to look at the Nile, and then to her +husband’s house. Last night he gave me a dinner—a +very good dinner indeed, in his house which is equal to a very poor +cattle shed at home. We were only five. Sheykh Yussuf, Omar, +an elderly merchant and I. Hassan wanted to serve us but I made +him sit.</p> +<p>The merchant, a well-bred man of the world who has enjoyed life and +married wives everywhere—had arrived that day and found a daughter +of his dead here. He said he felt very miserable—and everyone +told him not to mind and consoled him oddly enough to English ideas. +Then people told stories. Omar’s was a good version of the +man and wife who would not shut the door and agreed that the first to +speak should do it—very funny indeed. Yussuf told a pretty +tale of a Sultan who married a Bint el-Arab (daughter of the Bedawee) +and how she would not live in his palace, and said she was no fellaha +to dwell in houses, and scorned his silk clothes and sheep killed for +her daily, and made him live in the desert with her. A black slave +told a prosy tale about thieves—and the rest were more long than +pointed.</p> +<p>Hassan’s Arab feelings were hurt at the small quantity of meat +set before me. (They can’t kill a sheep now for an honoured +guest.) But I told him no greater honour could be paid to us English +than to let us eat lentils and onions like one of the family, so that +we might not feel as strangers among them—which delighted all +the party. After a time the merchant told us his heart was somewhat +dilated—as a man might say his toothache had abated—and +we said ‘Praise be to God’ all round.</p> +<p>A short time ago my poor friend the Maōhn had a terrible ‘tile’ +fall on his head. His wife, two married daughters and nine miscellaneous +children arrived on a sudden, and the poor man is now tasting the pleasures +which Abraham once endured between Sarah and Hagar. I visited +the ladies and found a very ancient Sarah and a daughter of wonderful +beauty. A young man here—a Shereef—has asked me to +open negotiations for a marriage for him with the Maōhn’s +grand daughter a little girl of eight—so you see how completely +I am ‘one of the family.’</p> +<p>My boat has not yet made its appearance. I am very well indeed +now, in spite, or perhaps because of, the great heat. But there +is a great deal of sickness—chiefly dysentery. I never get +less than four new patients a day and my ‘practice’ has +become quite a serious business. I spent all day on Friday in +the Abab’deh quarters where Sheykh Hassan and his slave Rahmeh +were both uncommonly ill. Both are ‘all right’ now. +Rahmeh is the nicest negro I ever knew, and a very great friend of mine. +He is a most excellent, honest, sincere man, and an Effendi (<i>i.e</i>. +writes and reads) which is more than his master can do. He has +seen all the queer people in the interior of Africa.</p> +<p>The Sheykh of the Bishareen—eight days’ journey from +Assouan has invited me and promises me all the meat and milk I can eat, +they have nothing else. They live on a high mountain and are very +fine handsome people. If only I were strong I could go to very +odd places where Frangees are not. Read a very stupid novel (as +a story) called ‘<i>le Secret du Bonheur</i>’—it gives +the truest impression of the manners of Arabs that I have read—by +Ernest Feydeau. According to his book <i>achouat</i> (we are brothers). +The ‘caressant’ ways of Arabs are so well described.</p> +<p>It is the same here. The people come and pat and stroke me +with their hands, and one corner of my brown abbaieh is faded with much +kissing. I am hailed as <i>Sitt Betaana</i> ‘Our own Lady,’ +and now the people are really enthusiastic because I refused the offer +of some cawasses as a guard which a Bimbashee made me. As if I +would have such fellows to help to bully my friends. The said +Bimbashee (next in rank to a Bey) a coarse man like an Arnoout, stopped +here a day and night and played his little Turkish game, telling me +to beware—for the Ulema hated all Franks and set the people against +us—and telling the Arabs that Christian Hakeems were all given +to poison Muslims. So at night I dropped in at the Maōhn’s +with Sheykh Yussuf carrying my lantern—and was loudly hailed with +a <i>Salaam Aleykee</i> from the old Shereef himself—who began +praising the Gospel I had given him, and me at the same time. +Yussuf had a little reed in his hand—the <i>kalem</i> for writing, +about two feet long and of the size of a quill. I took it and +showed it to the Bimbashee and said—‘Behold the <i>neboot</i> +wherewith we are all to be murdered by this Sheykh of the Religion.’ +The Bimbashee’s bristly moustache bristled savagely, for he felt +that the ‘Arab dogs’ and the Christian <i>khanzeereh</i> +(feminine pig) were laughing at it together.</p> +<p>Another steam boat load of prisoners from Gau has just gone up. +A little comfort is derived here from the news that, ‘Praise be +to God, Moussa Pasha (Governor of the Soudan) is dead and gone to Hell.’ +It must take no trifle to send him there judging by the quiet way in +which Fadil Pasha is mentioned.</p> +<p>You will think me a complete rebel—but I may say to you what +most people would think ‘like my nonsense’—that one’s +pity becomes a perfect passion, when one <i>sits among the people</i>—as +I do, and sees it all; least of all can I forgive those among Europeans +and Christians who can help to ‘break these bruised reeds.’ +However, in Cairo and more still in Alexandria, all is quite different. +There, the same system which has been so successfully copied in France +prevails. The capital is petted at the expense of the fellaheen. +Prices are regulated in Cairo for meat and bread as they are or were +in Paris, and the ‘dangerous classes’ enjoy all sorts of +exemptions. Just like France! The Cairenes eat the bread +and the fellaheen eat the stick.</p> +<p>The people here used to dislike Mounier who arrived poor and grew +rich and powerful, but they all bless him now and say at El-Moutaneh +a man eats his own meat and not the courbash of the Moudir—and +Mounier has refused soldiers (as I refused them on my small account) +and ‘Please God,’ he will never repent it. Yussuf +says ‘What the Turkish Government fears is not for <i>your</i> +safety, but lest we should learn to love you too well,’ and it +is true. Here there is but one voice. ‘Let the Franks +come, let us have the laws of the Christians.’</p> +<p>In Cairo the Franks have dispelled this <i>douce illusion</i> and +done the Turk’s work as if they were paid for it. But here +come only travellers who pay with money and not with stick—a degree +of generosity not enough to be adored.</p> +<p>I perceive that I am a bore—but you will forgive my indignant +sympathy with the kind people who treat me so well. Yussuf asked +me to let the English papers know about the Gau business. An Alim +ed Deen ul-Islam would fain call for help to the Times! Strange +changes and signs of the times—these—are they not so?</p> +<p>I went to Church on Good Friday with the Copts. The scene was +very striking—the priest dressed like a beautiful Crusader in +white robes with crimson crosses. One thing has my hearty admiration. +The few children who are taken to Church are allowed to play! +Oh my poor little Protestant fellow Christians, can you conceive a religion +so delightful as that which permits Peep-bo behind the curtain of the +sanctuary! I saw little Butrus and Scendariah at it all church +time—and the priest only patted their little heads as he carried +the sacrament out to the Hareem. Fancy the parson kindly patting +a noisy boy’s head, instead of the beadle whacking him! +I am entirely reconciled to the Coptic rules.</p> +<h3>May, 1865: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Nile Boat, </span><span class="smcap"><i>URANIA</i></span>,<br /> +<i>May</i>, 1865.</p> +<p>Happy as I was in the prospect of seeing you all and miserable as +poor Upper Egypt has become, I could not leave without a pang. +Our Bairam was not gay. There was horse riding for Sheykh Gibreel +(the cousin of Abu’l Haggag) and the scene was prettier than ever +I saw. My old friend Yunis the Shereef insisted on showing me +that at eighty-five he could still handle a horse and throw a Gereed +‘for Sheykh Gibreel and the Lady’ as he said. Then +arrived the Mufettish of Zenia with his gay attendants and filled the +little square in front of the Cadi’s castellated house where we +were sitting. The young Sheykh of Salamieh rode beautifully and +there was some excellent Neboot play (sort of very severe quarterstaff +peculiar to the Fellaheen).</p> +<p>Next day was the great dinner given by Mohammed and Mustapha outside +Mohammed’s house opposite Sheykh Gibreel’s tomb—200 +men ate at his gate. I went to see it and was of course asked +to eat. ‘Can one like thee eat the Melocheea of the Fellaheen?’ +So I joined a party of five round a little wooden tray, tucked up my +sleeve and ate—dipping the bread into the Melocheea which is like +very sloppy spinach but much nicer. Then came the master and his +servants to deal the pieces of meat out of a great basket—sodden +meat—and like Benjamin my piece was the largest, so I tore off +a bit and handed it to each of my companions, who said ‘God take +thee safe and happy to thy place and thy children and bring thee back +to us in safety to eat the meat of the festival together once more.’</p> +<p>The moon rose clear and bright behind the one tall palm tree that +overhangs the tomb of Sheykh Gibreel. He is a saint of homely +tastes and will not have a dome over him or a cover for his tomb, which +is only surrounded by a wall breast-high, enclosing a small square bit +of ground with the rough tomb on one side. At each corner was +set up a flag, and a few dim lanterns hung overhead. The 200 men +eating were quite noiseless—and as they rose, one by one washed +their hands and went, the crowd melted away like a vision. But +before all were gone, came the Bulook, or sub-magistrate—a Turkish +Jack in office with the manners of a Zouave turned parish beadle. +He began to sneer at the <i>melocheea</i> of the fellaheen and swore +he could not eat it if he sat before it 1,000 years. Hereupon, +Omar began to ‘chaff’ him. ‘Eat, oh Bulook Pasha +and if it swells thy belly the Lady will give thee of the physick of +the English to clean thy stomach upwards and downwards of all thou hast +eaten of the food of the fellaheen.’ The Bulook is notorious +for his exactions—his ‘eating the people’—so +there was a great laugh. Poor Omar was very ill next day—and +every one thought the Bulook had given him the eye.</p> +<p>Then came the Mufettish in state to pay his <i>devoirs</i> to the +Sheykh in the tomb. He came and talked to Mustapha and Yussuf +and enumerated the people taken for the works, 200 from Luxor, 400 from +Carnac, 310 from Zenia, 320 from Byadyeh, and 380 from Salamieh—a +good deal more than half the adult men to go for sixty days leaving +their fields uncultivated and their Hareem and children hungry—for +they have to take all the food for themselves.</p> +<p>I rose sick at heart from the Mufettish’s harsh voice, and +went down to listen to the Moonsheeds chanting at the tomb and the Zikheers’ +strange sobbing, Allah, Allah.</p> +<p>I leaned on the mud wall watching the slender figures swaying in +the moonlight, when a tall, handsome fellah came up in his brown shirt, +felt <i>libdeh</i> (scull cap), with his blue cotton <i>melaya</i> tied +up and full of dried bread on his back. The type of the Egyptian. +He stood close beside me and prayed for his wife and children. +‘Ask our God to pity them, O Sheykh, and to feed them while I +am away. Thou knowest how my wife worked all night to bake all +the wheat for me and that there is none left for her and the children.’ +He then turned to me and took my hand and went on, ‘Thou knowest +this lady, oh Sheykh Gibreel, take her happy and well to her place and +bring her back to us—<i>el Fathah, yah Beshoosheh</i>!’ +and we said it together. I could have laid my head on Sheykh Gibreel’s +wall and howled. I thanked him as well as I could for caring about +one like me while his own troubles were so heavy. I shall never +forget that tall athletic figure and the gentle brown face, with the +eleven days’ moon of Zulheggeh, and the shadow of the palm tree. +That was my farewell. ‘The voice of the miserable is with +thee, shall God not hear it?’</p> +<p>Next day Omar had a sharp attack of fever and was delirious—it +lasted only two days but left him very weak and the anxiety and trouble +was great—for my helping hands were as awkward as they were willing.</p> +<p>In a few days arrived the boat Urania. She is very nice indeed. +A small saloon, two good berths—bath and cabinet, and very large +<i>kasneh</i> (stern cabin). She is dirty, but will be extremely +comfortable when cleaned and painted. On the 15th we sailed. +Sheykh Yussuf went with me to Keneh, Mustapha and Seyd going by land—and +one of Hajjee Sultan’s disciples and several Luxor men were deck +passengers. The Shereef gave me the bread and jars of butter for +his grandsons in Gama’l Azhar, and came to see me off. We +sat on the deck outside as there was a crowd to say good-bye and had +a lot of Hareem in the cabin. The old Shereef made me sit down +on the carpet close to him and then said ‘we sit here like two +lovers’—at eighty-five <i>even</i> an Arab and a Shereef +may be “<i>gaillard</i>”—so I cried, ‘Oh Shereef, +what if Omar tells my master the secret thou hast let out—it is +not well of thee.’ There was a great laugh which ended in +the Shereef saying ‘no doubt thy master is of the best of the +people, let us say the <i>Fathah</i> for him,’ and he called on +all the people ‘<i>El Fathah</i> for the master of the lady!’ +I hope it has benefited you to be prayed for at Luxor.</p> +<p>I had written so far and passed Minieh when I fell ill with pleurisy—I’ve +lots more to tell of my journey but am too weak after two weeks in bed +(and unable to lie down from suffocation)—but I am <i>much</i> +better now. A man from the Azhar is reading the Koran for me outside—while +another is gone with candles to Seyeedele Zeynet ‘the fanatics!’</p> +<h3>June 16, 1865: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>June</i> 16, 1865.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I will go down to Alexandria in the boat and Omar will work at her. +She wants a great deal of repairing I find, and his superintendence +will save much money—besides he will do one man’s work as +he is a much better carpenter than most here having learnt of the English +workmen on the railroad—but the Reis says the boat must come out +of the water as her bottom is unsound. She is a splendid sailer +I hear and remarkably comfortable. The beds in the <i>kasneh</i> +would do for Jacob Omnium. So when you ‘honour our house’ +you will be happy. The saloon is small, and the berths as usual. +Also she is a very handsome shape—but she wants no end of repairs. +So Omar is consoled at being left because he will ‘save our money’ +a great deal by piecing sails, and cutting and contriving, and scraping +and painting himself. Only he is afraid for me. However, +<i>Allah Kereem</i>.</p> +<p>I have a very good Reis I think. The usual tight little black +fellow from near Assouan—very neat and active and good tempered—the +same cross steersman that we had up to Bedreshayn—but he knows +his work well. We had contrary gales the whole way. My men +worked all they possibly could, and pulled the rope all day and rowed +all night, day after day—but we were twenty-eight days getting +down.</p> +<p>I can’t write any more.</p> +<h3>October 28, 1865: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Alexandria</span>,<br /> +<i>October</i> 28, 1865.</p> +<p>I am truly grieved to hear of your wrist and to see your writing +look cramped. I arrived here on Thursday after a splendid passage +and was very comfortable on board. I found M. Olagnier waiting +for me, and Omar, of course, and am <i>installé</i> at Ross’s +till my boat gets done which I am told will be in six days. She +will be remarkably comfortable. Omar had caused a sort of divan +with a roof and back to be constructed just outside the cabin-door where +I always sat every evening, which will be the most delightful little +nest one can conceive. I shall sit like a Pasha there.</p> +<p>My cough is still very harassing, but my chest less tight and painful, +and I feel less utterly knocked down. The weather is beautiful +here just now—warm and not nearly so damp as usual.</p> +<p>Lord Edward St. Maur was on board, he has much of his aunt’s +pleasantness. Also a very young Bombay Merchant—a Muslim +who uttered not one syllable to any one but to me. His talk was +just like that of a well-bred and intelligent young Englishman. +I am glad to say that his views of the state of India were very encouraging—he +seemed convinced that the natives were gradually working their way up +to more influence, and said ‘We shall have to thank you for a +better form of government by far than any native one ever would have +been’—he added, ‘We Muslims have this advantage over +the Hindus—that our religion is no barrier at all, socially or +politically—between us and you—as theirs is. I mean +it ought not to be when both faiths are cleared of superstition and +fanaticism.’ He spoke very highly of Sir Bartle Frere but +said ‘I wish it were possible for more English <i>gentlemen</i> +to come out to India.’ He had been two years in England +on mercantile business and was going back to his brother Ala-ed-deen +much pleased with the English in England. It is one of the most +comforting <i>Erscheinungen</i> I have seen coming from India—if +that sort of good sense is pretty common among the very young men they +certainly will work their way up.</p> +<p>I should like to see Bayley’s article though I am quite sick +of my book—it is very ungracious of me, but I can’t help +it.</p> +<h3>November 2, 1865: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Alexandria</span>,<br /> +<i>November</i> 2, 1865.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>The boat like all other things goes but slowly—however the +weather here is unusually dry and fine.</p> +<p>I have just been to see my poor friend Sittee Zubeydeh, widow of +Hassaneyn Effendi who died in England—and I am filled with admiration +at her good sense and courage. She has determined to carry on +her husband’s business of letting boats herself, and to educate +her children to the best of her power in habits of independence. +I hope she will be successful, and receive the respect such rare conduct +in a Turkish woman deserves from the English. I was much gratified +to hear from her how kindly she had been treated in Glasgow. She +said that nothing that could be done for her was left undone. +She arrived this morning and I went to see her directly and was really +astonished at all she said about her plans for herself and her children. +Poor thing! it is a sad blow—for she and Hassaneyn were as thoroughly +united as any Europeans could be.</p> +<p>I went afterwards to my boat, which I hope will be done in five or +six days. I am extremely impatient to be off. She will be +a most charming boat—both comfortable and pretty. The boom +for the big sail is new—and I exclaimed, ‘why you have broken +the new boom and mended it with leather!’ Omar had put on +a <i>sham splice</i> to avert the evil eye from such a fine new piece +of wood! Of course I dare not have the blemish renewed or <i>gare</i> +the first puff of wind—besides it is too characteristic.</p> +<p>There is some cholera about again, I hear—ten deaths yesterday—so +Olagnier tells me. I fancy the rush of Europeans back again, each +bringing ‘seven other devils worse than himself’ is the +cause of it.</p> +<p>I think I am beginning to improve a little; my cough has been terribly +harassing especially at night—but the weather is very good, cool, +and not damp.</p> +<h3>November 27, 1865: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>Monday</i>, <i>November</i> 27, 1865.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I arrived here last night and found a whole heap of letters—and +yours I will answer first. I had no heart to write any more from +Alexandria where I was worried out of all courage and strength. +At last after endless delays and vexations the dahabieh was <i>tant +bien que mal</i> ready.</p> +<p>Talk of Arab dawdle! after what I went through—and now I have +to wait here for fresh repairs, as we came up baling all the way and +I fear cursing the Christian workmen who had bungled so shamefully.</p> +<p>However that is over, and I am much better as to my cough—indeed +it is all but gone. Omar was very ill having had dysentery for +two months, but he too is well again. He is very grateful for +your kind mention of him and says, ‘Send the Great Mother my best +Salaam, and tell her her daughter’s people are my people, and +where she goes I will go too, and please God I will serve her rich or +poor till “He who separates us” shall take me from her.’ +The words of Ruth came after all these centuries quite fresh from the +soft Egyptian lips.</p> +<p>The ‘He who separated us’ I must explain to you. +It is one of the attributes of God, <i>The Separator of Religions</i> +implies toleration and friendship by attributing the two religions alike +to God—and is never used towards one whose religion is not to +be respected.</p> +<p>I have got a levee of former reis’s, sailors, etc. some sick—but +most come to talk.</p> +<p>The climate changes quite suddenly as one leaves the Delta, and here +I sit at eight in the evening with open doors and windows.</p> +<p>I am so glad to hear of the great success of my dear Father’s +book, and to think of your courage in working at it still.</p> +<p>I suppose I shall be here a week longer as I have several jobs to +do to my boat, and I shall try to get towed up so as to send back the +boat as soon as possible in order to let her. Ali will give £80 +a month for her if he gets a party of four to take up. I pay my +Reis five napoleons a month while travelling and three while lying still. +He is a good, active little fellow.</p> +<p>We were nearly smashed under the railway bridge by an iron barge—and +<i>Wallah</i>! how the Reis of the bridge did whack the Reis of the +barge. I thought it a sad loss of time, but Reis Ali and my Reis +Mohammed seemed to look on the stick as the most effective way of extricating +my anchor from the Pasha’s rudder. My crew can’t say +‘Urania’ so they sing ‘go along, oh darling bride’ +<i>Arooset er-ralee</i>, as the little Sitt’s best description, +and ‘Arooset er-ralee’ will be the dahabieh’s exoteric +name—as ‘<i>El Beshoosheeh</i>, is my popular name.</p> +<h3>December 5, 1865: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>December</i> 5, 1865.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p><i>Alhamdulillah</i>—now I am at rest. I have got all +the boat in order. My captain, Reis Mohammed, is very satisfactory, +and to-day we sail as soon as Omar comes back with the meat, etc. from +market.</p> +<p>I received Meadow’s review; I wish he had not said so much +about me in it.</p> +<p>Mohammed Gazowee begs to give his best Salaam to Sheykh Stanley whom +he longs to see again. He says that all the people said he was +not a Christian, for he was not proud ever towards them as Christians +are, but a real Sheykh, and that the Bedaween still talk of Sheykh Stanley +and of his piety. The old half-witted jester of Luxor has found +me out—he has wandered down here to see his eldest son who is +serving in the army. He had brought a little boy with him, but +is ‘afraid for him’ here, I don’t know why, and has +begged me to take the child up to his mother. These licensed <i>possenreisser</i> +are like our fools in old times—but less witty than we fancy them +to have been—thanks to Shakespeare, I suppose. Each district +has one who attends all <i>moolids</i> and other gatherings of the people, +and picks up a living. He tells me that the Turkish Názir +of Zeneea has begun some business against our Kadee, Sheykh Ibraheem, +and Sheykh Yussuf, accused them of something—he does not know +what—<i>perhaps of being friends of Hajjee Sultan, or of stealing +wood</i>!! If all the friends of Hajjee Sultan are to be prosecuted +that will include the whole Saeed.</p> +<p>Of course I am anxious about my friends. All Haleem Pasha Oghdee’s +villages have been confiscated (those tributary to him for work) <i>sous +prétexte</i> that he ill-used the people, <i>n.b</i>. he alone +paid them—a bad example. Pharoah is indeed laying intolerable +burthens—not on the Israelites—but on the fellaheen.</p> +<p>Omar said of the great dinner to-day, ‘I think all the food +will taste of blood, it is the blood of the poor, and more <i>haram</i> +than any pork or wine or blood of beasts.’ Of course such +sentiments are not to be repeated—but they are general. +The <i>meneggets</i> who picked and made ten mattrasses and fourteen +cushions for me in half a day, were laughing and saying, ‘for +the Pasha’s boat we work also, at so much a day and we should +have done it in four days.’ ‘And for me if I paid +by the day instead of by the piece, how long?’ ‘One +day instead of half, O Lady, for fear thou shouldest say to us, you +have finished in half a day and half the wages is enough for you.’ +That is the way in which all the work is done for <i>Effendeena</i>—no +wonder his steamers don’t pay.</p> +<p>I saw Ross yesterday—he tells me the Shereef of Mecca has sent +him a horse.</p> +<h3>December 25, 1865: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Thebes</span>,<br /> +<i>From December</i> 25, 1865, <i>to January</i> 3, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I wish you all, ‘may the year be good to thee’ as we +say here—and now for my history. We left Cairo on the 5th +Decr. I was not well. No wind as usual, and we were a week +getting to Benisonef where the Stamboolee Greek lady who was so kind +to me last summer in my illness came on board with a very well-bred +Arab lady. I was in bed, and only stayed a few hours. On +to Minieh another five or six days—walked about and saw the preparations +for the Pasha’s arrival. Nothing so flat as these affairs +here. Not a creature went near the landing-place but his own servants, +soldiers, and officials. I thought of the arrival of the smallest +of German princes, which makes ten times the noise. Next on to +Siout. Ill again, and did not land or see anyone. On to +Girgeh, where we only stayed long enough to deliver money and presents +which I had been begged to take for some old sailors of mine to their +mothers and wives there.</p> +<p>Between Siout and Girgeh an Abyssinian slave lad came and wanted +me to steal him; he said his master was a Copt and ill-used him, and +the lady beat him. But Omar sagely observed to the sailors, who +were very anxious to take him, that a bad master did not give his slave +such good clothes and even a pair of shoes—<i>quel luxe</i>!—and +that he made too much of his master being a Copt; no doubt he was a +lazy fellow, and perhaps had run away with other property besides himself. +Soon after I was sitting on the pointed prow of the boat with the Reis, +who was sounding with his painted pole (<i>vide</i> antique sculptures +and paintings), and the men towing, when suddenly something rose to +the surface close to us: the men cried out <i>Beni Adam</i>! and the +Reis prayed for the dead. It was a woman: the silver bracelets +glittered on the arms raised and stiffened in the agony of death, the +knees up and the beautiful Egyptian breasts floated above the water. +I shall never forget the horrid sight. ‘God have mercy on +her,’ prayed my men, and the Reis added to me, ‘let us also +pray for her father, poor man: you see, no robber has done this (on +account of the bracelets). We are in the Saeed now, and most likely +she has blackened her father’s face, and he has been forced to +strangle her, poor man.’ I said ‘Alas!’ and +the Reis continued, ‘ah, yes, it is a heavy thing, but a man must +whiten his face, poor man, poor man. God have mercy on him.’ +Such is Saeedee <i>point d’honneur</i>. However, it turned +out she was drowned bathing.</p> +<p>Above Girgeh we stopped awhile at Dishné, a large village. +I strolled up alone, <i>les mains dans les poches</i>, ‘<i>sicut +meus est mos</i>:’ and was soon accosted with an invitation to +coffee and pipes in the strangers’ place, a sort of room open +on one side with a column in the middle, like two arches of a cloister, +and which in all the villages is close to the mosque: two or three cloaks +were pulled off and spread on the ground for me to sit on, and the milk +which I asked for, instead of the village coffee, brought. In +a minute a dozen men came and sat round, and asked as usual, ‘Whence +comest thou, and whither goest thou?’ and my gloves, watch, rings, +etc. were handed round and examined; the gloves always call forth many +<i>Mashallah’s</i>. I said, ‘I come from the Frank +country, and am going to my place near Abu’l Hajjaj.’ +Hereupon everyone touched my hand and said, ‘Praise be to God +that we have seen thee. Don’t go on: stay here and take +100 feddans of land and remain here.’ I laughed and asked, +‘Should I wear the <i>zaboot</i> (brown shirt) and the <i>libdeh</i>, +and work in the field, seeing there is no man with me?’ +There was much laughing, and then several stories of women who had farmed +large properties well and successfully. Such undertakings on the +part of women seem quite as common here as in Europe, and more common +than in England.</p> +<p>I took leave of my new friends who had given me the first welcome +home to the Saeed, and we went on to Keneh, which we reached early in +the morning, and I found my well-known donkey-boys putting my saddle +on. The father of one, and the two brothers of the other, were +gone to work on the railway for sixty days’ forced labour, taking +their own bread, and the poor little fellows were left alone to take +care of the Hareem. As soon as we reached the town, a couple of +tall young soldiers in the Nizam uniform rushed after me, and greeted +me in English; they were Luxor lads serving their time. Of course +they attached themselves to us for the rest of the day. We then +bought water jars (the <i>specialité</i> of Keneh); <i>gullehs</i> +and <i>zees</i>—and I went on to the Kadee’s house to leave +a little string of beads, just to show that I had not forgotten the +worthy Kadee’s courtesy in bringing his little daughter to sit +beside me at dinner when I went down the river last summer. I +saw the Kadee giving audience to several people, so I sent in the beads +an my salaam; but the jolly Kadee sallied forth into the street and +‘fell upon my neck’ with such ardour that my Frankish hat +was sent rolling by contact with the turban of Islam. The Kadee +of Keneh is the real original Kadee of our early days; sleek, rubicund, +polite—a puisne judge and a dean rolled into one, combining the +amenities of the law and the church—with an orthodox stomach and +an orthodox turban, both round and stately. I was taken into the +hareem, welcomed and regaled, and invited to the festival of Seyd Abd +er-Racheem, the great saint of Keneh. I hesitated, and said there +were great crowds, and some might be offended at my presence; but the +Kadee declared ‘by Him who separated us’ that if any such +ignorant persons were present it was high time they learnt better, and +said that it was by no means unlawful for virtuous Christians, and such +as neither hated nor scorned the Muslimeen, to profit by, or share in +their prayers, and that I should sit before the Sheykh’s tomb +with him and the Mufti; and that <i>du reste</i>, they wished to give +thanks for my safe arrival. Such a demonstration of tolerance +was not to be resisted. So after going back to rest, and dine +in the boat, I returned at nightfall into the town and went to the burial-place. +The whole way was lighted up and thronged with the most motley crowd, +and the usual mixture of holy and profane, which we know at the Catholic +<i>fêtes</i> also; but more <i>prononcé</i> here. +Dancing girls, glittering with gold brocade and coins, swaggered about +among the brown-shirted fellaheen, and the profane singing of the <i>Alateeyeh</i> +mingled with the songs in honour of the Arab prophet chanted by the +Moonsheeds and the deep tones of the ‘Allah, Allah’ of the +Zikeers. Rockets whizzed about and made the women screech, and +a merry-go-round was in full swing. And now fancy me clinging +to the skirts of the Cadi ul Islam (who did not wear a spencer, as the +Methodist parson threatened his congregation he would do at the Day +of Judgement) and pushing into the tomb of the Seyd Abd er-Racheem, +through such a throng. No one seemed offended or even surprised. +I suppose my face is so well known at Keneh. When my party had +said a <i>Fattah</i> for me and another for my family, we retired to +another <i>kubbeh</i>, where there was no tomb, and where we found the +Mufti, and sat there all the evening over coffee and pipes and talk. +I was questioned about English administration of justice, and made to +describe the process of trial by jury. The Mufti is a very dignified +gentlemanly man, and extremely kind and civil. The Kadee pressed +me to stay next day and dine with him and the Mufti, but I said I had +a lantern for Luxor, and I wanted to arrive before the <i>moolid</i> +was over, and only three days remained. So the Kadee accompanied +me back to the boat, looked at my maps, which pleased him very much, +traced out the line of the railway as he had heard it, and had tea.</p> +<p>Next morning we had the first good wind, and bowled up to Luxor in +one day, arriving just after sunset. Instantly the boat was filled. +Of course Omar and the Reis at once organized a procession to take me +and my lantern to the tomb of Abu-l-Hajjaj—it was the last night +but one of his moolid. The lantern was borne on a pole between +two of my sailors, and the rest, reinforced by men from a steamer which +was there with a Prussian prince, sung and thumped the tarabookeh, and +we all marched up after I had undergone every variety of salutation, +from Sheykh Yussuf’s embrace to the little boys’ kissing +of hands. The first thing I heard was the hearty voice of the +old Shereef, who praised God that ‘our darling’ was safe +back again, and then we all sat down for a talk; then more <i>Fattahs</i> +were said for me, and for you, and for the children; and I went back +to bed in my own boat. I found the guard of the French house had +been taken off to Keneh to the works, after lying eight days in chains +and wooden handcuffs for resisting, and claiming his rights as a French +<i>protégé</i>. So we waited for his return, and +for the keys which he had taken with him, in hopes that the Keneh authorities +would not care to keep me out of the house. I wrote to the French +Consular agent at Keneh, and to the Consul at Alexandria, and got him +back the third day. What would you think in Europe to see me welcome +with enthusiasm a servant just out of chains and handcuffs? At +the very moment, too, that Mohammed and I were talking, a boat passed +up the river with musick and singing on board. It was a Sheykh-el-Beled, +of a place above Esneb, who had lain in prison three years in Cairo, +and whose friends were making all the fantasia they could to celebrate +the end of his misfortune, of disgrace, <i>il n’en est pas question</i>; +and why should it? So many honest men go to prison that it is +no presumption at all against a man.</p> +<p>The day after my arrival was the great and last day. The crowd +was but little and not lively—times are too hard. But the +riding was beautiful. Two young men from Hegaz performed wonderful +feats.</p> +<p>I dined with the Maōhn, whose wife cooked me the best dinner +I ever ate in this country, or almost anywhere. Marie, who was +invited, rejoiced the kind old lady’s heart by her Belgian appreciation +of the excellent cookery. ‘Eat, my daughter, eat,’ +and even I managed to give satisfaction. Such Bakloweh I never +tasted. We removed to the house yesterday, and I have had company +ever since.</p> +<p>One Sheykh Alee—a very agreeable man from beyond Khartoom, +offers to take me up to Khartoom and back with a Takhterawan (camel +litter) in company with Mustapha A’gha, Sheykh Yussuf and a troop +of his own Abab’deh. It is a terrible temptation—but +it would cost £50—so I refused. Sheykh Alee is so +clever and well-bred that I should enjoy it much, and the climate at +this season is delightful. He has been in the Denka country where +the men are a cubit taller than Sheykh Hassan whom you know, and who +enquires tenderly after you.</p> +<p>Now let me describe the state of things. From the Moudeeriat +of Keneh only, 25,000 men are taken to work for sixty days without food +or pay; each man must take his own basket, and each third man a hoe, +not a basket. If you want to pay a substitute for a beloved or +delicate son, it costs 1,000 piastres—600 at the lowest; and about +300 to 400 for his food. From Luxor only, 220 men are gone; of +whom a third will very likely die of exposure to the cold and misery +(the weather is unusually cold). That is to say that this little +village, of at most 2,000 souls male and female (we don’t usually +count women, from decorum), will pay in labour at least £1,320 +in sixty days. We have also already had eleven camels seized to +go up to the Soudan; a camel is worth from £18 to £40.</p> +<p>Last year Mariette Bey made excavations at Gourneh forcing the people +to work but promising payment at the rate of—Well, when he was +gone the four Sheykhs of the village at Gourneh came to Mustapha and +begged him to advance the money due from Government, for the people +were starving. Mustapha agrees and gives above 300 purses—about +£1,000 in <i>current</i> piastres on the understanding that he +is to get the money from Government in <i>tariff</i>—and to keep +the difference as his profit. If he cannot get it at all the fellaheen +are to pay him back without interest. Of course at the rate at +which money is here, his profit would be but small interest on the money +unless he could get the money directly, and he has now waited six months +in vain.</p> +<p>Abdallah the son of el-Habbeshee of Damankoor went up the river in +chains to Fazoghlou a fortnight ago and Osman Bey ditto last week—El-Bedrawee +is dead there, of course.</p> +<p>Shall I tell you what became of the hundred prisoners who were sent +away after the Gau business? As they marched through the desert +the Greek memlook looked at his list each morning, and said, ‘Hoseyn, +Achmet, Foolan (like the Spanish Don Fulano, Mr. so and so), you are +free; take off his chains.’ Well, the three or four men +drop behind, where some arnouts strangle them out of sight. This +is banishment to Fazoghlou. Do you remember <i>le citoyen est +élargi</i> of the September massacres of Paris? Curious +coincidence, is it not? Everyone is exasperated—the very +Hareem talk of the government. It is in the air. I had not +been five minutes in Keneh before I knew all this and much more. +Of the end of Hajjee Sultan I will not speak till I have absolute certainty, +but, I believe the proceeding was as I have described—set free +in the desert and murdered by the way. I wish you to publish these +facts, it is no secret to any but to those Europeans whose interests +keep their eyes tightly shut, and they will soon have them opened. +The blind rapacity of the present ruler will make him astonish the Franks +some day, I think.</p> +<p>Wheat is now 400 piastres the ardeb up here; the little loaf, not +quite so big as our penny roll, costs a piastre—about three-half-pence—and +all in proportion. I need not say what the misery is. Remember +that this is the second levy of 220 men within six months, each for +sixty days, as well as the second seizure of camels; besides the conscription, +which serves the same purpose, as the soldiers work on the Pasha’s +works. But in Cairo they are paid—and well paid.</p> +<p>It is curious how news travels here. The Luxor people knew +the day I left Alexandria, and the day I left Cairo, long before I came. +They say here that Abu-l-Hajjaj gave me his hand from Keneh, because +he would not finish his moolid without me. I am supposed to be +specially protected by him, as is proved by my health being so far better +here than anywhere else.</p> +<p>By the bye, Sheykh Alee Abab’deh told me that all the villages +<i>close</i> on the Nile escaped the cholera almost completely, whilst +those who were half or a quarter of a mile inland were ravaged. +At Keneh 250 a day died; at Luxor one child was supposed to have died +of it, but I know he had diseased liver for a year or more. In +the desert the Bishareen and Abab’deh suffered more than the people +at Cairo, and you know the desert is usually the place of perfect health; +but fresh Nile water seems to be <i>the</i> antidote. Sheykh Yussuf +laid the mortality at Keneh to the canal water, which the poor people +drink there. I believe the fact is as Sheykh Alee told me.</p> +<p>Now I will say good-bye, for I am tired, and will write anon to the +rest. Let Mutter have this. I was very poorly till I got +above Siout, and then gradually mended—constant blood spitting +and great weakness and I am very thin, but, by the protection of Abu-l-Hajjaj +I suppose I am already much better, and begin to eat again. I +have not been out yet since the first day, having much to do in the +house to get to rights. I felt very dreary on Christmas-day away +from you all, and Omar’s plum-pudding did not cheer me at all, +as he hoped it would. He begs me to kiss your hand for him, and +every one sends you salaam, and all lament that you are not the new +Consul at Cairo.</p> +<p>Kiss my chicks, and love to you all. Janet, I hope is in Egypt +ere this.</p> +<h3>January 3, 1866: Maurice Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Maurice Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>.<br /> +<i>January</i> 3, 1866.</p> +<p>My Darling Maurice,</p> +<p>I was delighted to get your note, which arrived on New Year’s +day in the midst of the hubbub of the great festival in honour of the +Saint of Luxor. I wish you could have seen two young Arabs (real +Arabs from the Hedjaz, in Arabia) ride and play with spears and lances. +I never saw anything like it—a man who played the tom-fool stood +in the middle, and they galloped round and round him, with their spears +crossed and the points resting on the ground, in so small a circle that +his clothes whisked round with the wind of the horses’ legs. +Then they threw jereeds and caught them as they galloped: the beautiful +thing was the perfect mastery of the horses: they were ‘like water +in their hands,’ as Sheykh Hassan remarked. I perceived +that I had never seen <i>real</i> horsemanship in my life before.</p> +<p>I am now in the ‘palace’ at Luxor with my dahabieh, ‘Arooset +er-Ralee’ (the Darling Bride), under my windows; quite like a +Pasha.</p> +<p>In coming up we had an alarm of robbers. Under the mountain +called Gebel Foodah, we were entangled in shoals, owing to a change +in the bed of the river, and forced to stay all night; and at three +in the morning, the Reis sent in the boy to say he had seen a man creeping +on all fours—would I fire my pistol? As my revolver had +been stolen in Janet’s house, I was obliged to beg him to receive +any possible troop of armed robbers very civilly, and to let them take +what they pleased. However, Omar blazed away with your father’s +old cavalry pistols (which had no bullets) and whether the robbers were +frightened, or the man was only a wolf, we heard no more of the affair. +My crew were horribly frightened, and kept awake till daybreak.</p> +<p>The last night before reaching Keneh, the town forty miles north +of Luxor, my men held a grand fantasia on the bank. There was +no wind, and we found a lot of old maize stalks; so there was a bonfire, +and no end of drumming, singing and dancing. Even Omar relaxed +his dignity so far as to dance the dance of the Alexandria young men; +and very funny it all was. I laughed consumedly; especially at +the modest airs and graces of a great lubberly fellow—one Hezayin, +who acted the bride—in a representation of a Nubian wedding festivity. +The new song of this year is very pretty—a declaration of love +to a young Mohammed, sung to a very pretty tune. There is another, +rather like the air of ‘Di Provenza al mar’ in the ‘Traviata,’ +with extremely pretty words. As in England, every year has its +new song, which all the boys sing about the streets.</p> +<p>I hope, darling, you are sapping this year, and intend to make up +a bit for lost time. I hear you have lost no time in growing tall +at all events—‘ill weeds, etc.’—you know Omar +desires all sorts of messages to you.</p> +<h3>January 15, 1866: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<i>Monday</i>, <i>January</i> 15, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I hear that Mr. and Miss North are to be here in a day or two. +I hope you may have sent my saddle by them, for I want it sadly—mine +is just possible for a donkey, but quite too broken for a horse.</p> +<p>Two great Sheykhs of Bishareen and Abab’deh came here and picked +me up out walking alone. We went and sat in a field, and they +begged me to communicate to the Queen of England that they would join +her troops if she would invade Egypt. One laid my hand on his +hand and said ‘Thou hast 3,000 men in thy hand.’ The +other rules 10,000. They say there are 30,000 Arabs (bedaween) +ready to join the English, for they fear that the Viceroy will try to +work and rob them like the fellaheen, and if so they will fight to the +last, or else go off into Syria. I was rather frightened—for +them, I mean, and told them that our Queen could do nothing till 600 +Sheykhs and 400 Ameers had talked in public—all whose talk was +printed and read at Stambool and Cairo, and that they must not think +of such a thing from our Queen, but if things became bad, it would be +better for them to go off into Syria. I urged great caution upon +them, and I need not repeat that to you, as the lives of thousands may +be endangered. It might be interesting to be known in high places +and in profound secret, as one of the indications of what is coming +here.</p> +<p>If the saddle comes, as I hope, I may very likely go up to Assouan, +and leave the boat and servants, and go into the desert for a few days +to see the place of the Bishareen. They won’t take anyone +else: but you may be quite easy about me ‘in the face’ of +a Sheykh-el-Arab. Handsome Sheykh Hassan, whom you saw at Cairo, +will go with me. But if my saddle does not appear, I fear I should +be too tired with riding a camel.</p> +<p>The little district of Koos, including Luxor, has been mulcted of +camels, food for them and drivers, to the amount of 6,000 purses—last +week—£18,000, <i>fact</i>. I cast up the account, +and it tallied with what I got from a sub <i>employé</i>, nor +is the discontent any longer whispered. Everyone talks aloud—and +well they may.</p> +<h3>February 7, 1886: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<i>Tuesday</i>, 7 <i>Ramadan</i>.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I have just received your letter of Christmas-day, and am glad to +answer it with a really amended report of myself. I had a very +slight return a week ago, but for the last five or six days the daily +flushing and fever has also ceased. I sent for one of the Arab +doctors of the Azizeeyeh steamer to see Omar, and myself also, and he +was very attentive, and took a note of medicines to send me from Cairo +by a <i>confrère</i>: and when I offered a fee he said, ‘God +forbid—it is only our duty to do anything in the world for you.’ +Likewise a very nice Dr. Ingram saw some of my worst cases for me, and +gave me good advice and help; but I want better books—Kesteven +is very useful, as far as it goes, but I want something more <i>ausführlich</i> +and scientific. Ramadan is a great trouble to me, though Sheykh +Yussuf tells the people not to fast, if I forbid it: but many are ill +from having begun it, and one fine old man of about fifty-five died +of apoplexy on the fourth night. My Christian patient is obstinate, +and fasts, in spite of me, and will, I think, seal his fate; he was +so much better after the blistering and Dr. Ingram’s mixture. +I wish you could have seen a lad of eighteen or so, who came here to-day +for medicine. I think I never saw such sweet frank, engaging manners, +or ever heard any one express himself better: quite <i>une nature distinguée</i>, +not the least handsome, but the most charming countenance and way of +speaking.</p> +<p>My good friend the Maōhn spent the evening with me, and told +me all the story of his marriage, though quite ‘unfit to meet +the virtuous eyes of British propriety—’ as I read the other +day in some paper apropos of I forget what—it will give you an +idea of the feelings of a Muslim <i>honnête homme</i>, which Seleem +is through and through. He knew his wife before he married her, +she being twenty-five or twenty-six, and he a boy; she fell in love +with him, and at seventeen he married her, and they have had ten children, +all alive but two, and a splendid race they are. He told me how +she courted him with glasses of sherbet and trays of sweatmeats, and +how her mother proposed the marriage, and how she hesitated on account +of the difference of age, but, of course, at last consented: all with +the naïvest vanity in his own youthful attractions, and great extolling +of her personal charms, and of her many virtues. When he was sent +up here she would not, or could not, leave her children. On the +Sitt’s arrival his slave girl was arrogant, and refused to kiss +her hand, and spoke saucily of her age, whereupon Seleem gave her in +marriage to a black man and pays for her support, as long as she likes +to suckle the child he (Seleem) had by her, which child will in due +time return to his house. <i>Kurz</i>, the fundamental idea in +it all, in the mind of an upright man, is, that if a man ‘takes +up’ with a woman at all, he must make himself responsible for +her before the world; and above all for the fate of any child he may +have by her (you see the Prophet of the Arabs did not contemplate ladies +<i>qui savent nager</i> so well in the troubled waters of life as we +are now blessed with. I don’t mean to say that many men +are as scrupulous as my excellent friend Seleem, either here or even +in our own moral society). All this was told with expressions +quite incompatible with our manners, though not at all <i>leste</i>—and +he expatiated on his wife’s personal charms in a very quaint way; +the good lady is now hard upon sixty and looks it fully; but he evidently +is as fond of her as ever. As a curious trait of primitive manners, +he told me of her piety and boundless hospitality; how when some friends +came late one evening, unexpectedly, and there was only a bit of meat, +she killed a sheep and cooked it for them with her own hands. +And this is a Cairene lady, and quite a lady too, in manners and appearance. +The day I dined there she was dressed in very ragged, old cotton clothes, +but spotlessly clean; and she waited on me with a kind, motherly pleasure, +that quite took away the awkwardness I felt at sitting down while she +stood. In a few days she and her husband are to dine with me, +a thing which no Arab couple ever did before (I mean dine out together), +and the old lady was immensely amused at the idea. Omar will cook +and all male visitors will be sent to the kitchen. Now that I +understand all that is said to me, and a great deal of the general conversation, +it is much more amusing. Seleem Effendi jokes me a great deal +about my blunders, especially my lack of <i>politikeh</i>, the Greek +word for what we should call flummery; and my saying <i>lazim</i> (you +must, or rather <i>il faut</i>), instead of humble entreaties. +I told him to teach me better, but he laughed heartily, and said, ‘No, +no, when you say <i>lazim</i>, it is <i>lazim</i>, and nobody wants +the stick to force him to say <i>Hadr</i> (ready) O Sheykh-el-Arab, +O Emeereh.’</p> +<p>Fancy my surprise the other day just when I was dictating letters +to Sheykh Yussuf (letters of introduction for Ross’s inspecting +agent) with three or four other people here, in walked Miss North (Pop) +whom I have not seen since she was a child. She and her father +were going up the second cataract. She has done some sketches +which, though rather unskilful, were absolutely true in colour and effect, +and are the very first that I have seen that are so. I shall see +something of them on their return. She seemed very pleasant. +Mr. North looked rather horrified at the turbaned society in which he +found himself. I suppose it did look odd to English eyes.</p> +<p>We have had three days of the south wind, which the ‘Saturday +Review’ says I am not to call Samoom; and I was poorly, and kept +in bed two days with a cold. Apropos, I will give you the Luxor +contribution towards the further confusion of the Samoom (or Simoom) +controversy. I told Sheykh Yussuf that an English newspaper, written +by particularly clever people, said that I was wrong to call the bad +wind here ‘Samoom,’ (it was in an article on Palgrave’s +book, I think). Sheykh Yussuf said, ‘True, oh lady, no doubt +those learned gentlemen’ (politely saluting them with his hand) +‘thought one such as thou shouldest have written classical Arabic +(<i>Arabi fossieh</i>), and have called it “<i>al Daboor</i>;” +nevertheless, it is proper to write it “Samoom,” not, as +some do “Simoom,” which is the plural of <i>sim</i> (poison).’ +I shook my head, and said, I did not recollect <i>al Daboor</i>. +Then my Reis, sitting at the door, offered his suggestion. ‘Probably +the English, who it is well known are a nation of sailors, use the name +given to the land wind by <i>el-baharieh</i> (the boatmen), and call +it <i>el-mereeseh</i>.’ ‘But,’ said I, ‘the +clever gentlemen say that I am wrong altogether, and never can have +seen a <i>real</i> Samoom, for that would have killed me in ten minutes.’ +Hereupon Sheykh Mohammed el-Abab’deh, who is not nearly so polished +as his brother Hassan, burst into a regular bedawee roar of laughter, +and said, ‘Yah! do the <i>Ganassil</i> (Europeans) take thee for +a rat, oh lady? Whoever heard of <i>el Beni Adam</i> (the children +of Adam) dying of the wind? Men die of thirst quicker when the +Samoom blows and they have no water. But no one ever died of the +wind alone, except the rats—they do.’ I give you the +opinion of three ‘representative men—’ scholar, sailor, +and bedawee; if that helps you to a solution of the controversy.</p> +<p>We have just had a scene, rather startling to notions about fatalism, +etc. Owing to the importation of a good deal of cattle from the +Soudan, there is an expectation of the prevalence of small-pox, and +the village barbers are busy vaccinating in all directions to prevent +the infection brought, either by the cattle or, more likely, by their +drivers. Now, my maid had told me she had never been vaccinated, +and I sent for Hajjee Mahmood to cut my hair and vaccinate her. +To my utter amazement the girl, who had never shown any religious bigotry, +and does not fast, or make any demonstrations, refused peremptorily. +It appears that the priests and sisters appointed by the enlightened +administration of Prussia instil into their pupils and penitents that +vaccination is a ‘tempting of God.’ <i>Oh oui</i>, +she said, <i>je sais bien que chez nous mes parents pouvaient recevoir +un procès verbal, mais il vaut mieux cela que d’aller contre +la volonté de Dieu. Si Dieu le veut, j’aurai la petite-vérole, +et s’il ne veut pas, je ne l’aurai pas</i>. I scolded +her pretty sharply, and said it was not only stupid, but selfish. +‘But what can one do?’ as Hajjee Mahmood said, with a pitying +shake of his head; ‘these Christians are so ignorant!’ +He blushed, and apologized to me, and said, ‘It is not their fault; +all this want of sense is from the priests who talk folly to them for +money, and to keep them afraid before themselves. Poor things, +<i>they</i> don’t know the Word of God.—“Help thyself, +oh my servant, and I will help thee.”’ This is the +second contest I have had on this subject. Last year it was with +a Copt, who was all <i>Allah kereem</i> and so on about his baby, with +his child of four dying of small-pox. ‘Oh, man,’ said +Sheykh Yussuf, ‘if the wall against which I am now sitting were +to shake above my head, should I fold my feet under me and say <i>Allah +kereem</i>, or should I use the legs God has given me to escape from +it?’</p> +<p>I had a visit the other day from a lady who, as I was informed, had +been a harlot in Siout. She has repented, and married a converted +Copt. They are a droll pair of penitents, so very smart in their +dress and manner. But no one <i>se scandalise</i> at their antecedents—neither +is it proper to repent in sackcloth and ashes, or to confess sins, except +to God alone. You are not to <i>indulge</i> in telling them to +others; it is an offence. Repent inwardly, and be ashamed to show +it before the people—ask pardon of God only. A little of +this would do no harm in Europe, methinks.</p> +<p>Here is a pretty story for you from the <i>Hadeth en-Nebbee</i> (sayings +of the Prophet). ‘Two prophets were sitting together, and +discoursing of prayer and the difficulty of fixing the attention entirely +on the act. One said to the other, “Not even for the duration +of two <i>rekahs</i> (prayers ending with the prostration and <i>Allah +akbar</i>) can a man fix his mind on God alone.” The other +said, “Nay, but I can do it!” “Say then two +<i>rekahs</i>,” replied the elder of the two; “I will give +thee my cloak.” Now he wore two cloaks—a new handsome +red one and an old shabby blue one. The younger prophet rose, +raised his hands to his head, said <i>Allah akbar</i>, and bent to the +ground for his first <i>rekah</i>; as he rose again he thought “Will +he give me the red cloak or the blue, I wonder?”’ +It is very stupid of me not to write down all the pretty stories I hear, +but this one is a capital specimen of Arab wit. Some day I must +bring over Omar with me, Inshallah, to England, and he will tell you +stories like Scheherazade herself. A jolly Nubian Alim told me +the other night how in his village no man ever eats meat, except on +Bairam day: but one night a woman had a piece of meat given her by a +traveller; she put it in the oven and went out. During her absence +her husband came in and smelt it, and as it was just the time of the +<i>eshé</i> (first prayers one hour after sunset), he ran up +to the hill outside the village, and began to chaunt forth the <i>tekbeer</i> +with all his might—<i>Allah akbar</i>, <i>Allah akbar</i>, etc. +etc., till the people ran to see what was the matter. ‘Why, +to-day is Bairam,’ says he. ‘Where is thy witness, +O man?’ ‘The meat in the oven—the meat in the +oven.’</p> +<h3>February 15, 1866: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>February</i> 15, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I have only time for a short letter to say that the cold weather +is over and that I continue to improve, not very fast, but still very +sensibly.</p> +<p>My young Frenchman turns out to be a M. Brune <i>grand prix de Rome</i>, +an architect, and is a very nice fellow indeed, and a thorough gentleman. +His odd awkward manner proved to be mere vexation at finding himself +quartered <i>nolens volens</i> on a stranger, and a woman; but we have +made great friends, and I have made him quite happy by telling him that +he shall pay his share of the food. He was going to hurry off +from shyness though he had begun a work here by which I fancy he hopes +to get <i>Kudos</i>. I see he is poor and very properly proud. +He goes out to the temple at sunrise, and returns to dinner at dark, +and works well, and his drawings are very clever. In short, I +am as much obliged to the French Consul for sending me such an intelligent +man as I was vexed at first. An <i>homme sérieux</i> with +an absorbing pursuit is always good company in the long run. Moreover +M. Brune behaves like a perfect gentleman in every way. So <i>tout +est pour le mieux</i>.</p> +<p>I am sorry to say that Marie has become so excessively bored, dissatisfied, +and, she says, ill, that I am going to send her back rather than be +worried so—and <i>damit hats eine ende</i> of European maids. +Of course an ignorant girl <i>must</i> be bored to death here—a +land of no amusements and no flirtation <i>is</i> unbearable. +I shall borrow a slave of a friend here, an old black woman who is quite +able and more than willing to serve me, and when I go down to Cairo +I will get either a ci-devant slave or an elderly Arab woman. +Dr. Patterson strongly advised me to do so last year. He had one +who has been thirteen years his housekeeper, an old bedaweeyeh, I believe, +and as I now am no longer looked upon as a foreigner, I shall be able +to get a respectable Arab woman, a widow or a divorced woman of a certain +age who will be too happy to have ‘a good home,’ as our +maids say. I think I know one, a certain Fatoomeh, a widow with +no children who does washing and needlework in Cairo. You need +not be at all uneasy. I shall be taken good care of if I fall +ill, much better than I should get from a European in a sulky frame +of mind. Hajjee Ali has very kindly offered to take Marie down +to Cairo and start her off to Alexandria, whence Ross’s people +can send her home. If she wants to stay in Alexandria and get +placed by the nuns who piously exhorted her to extort ninety francs +a month from me, so much the better for me. Ali refuses to take +a penny from me for her journey—besides bringing me potatoes and +all sorts of things: and if I remonstrate he says he and all his family +and all they have is mine, in consequence of my treatment of his brother.</p> +<p>You will be amused and pleased to hear how Sheykh Yussuf was utterly +puzzled and bewildered by the civilities he received from the travellers +this year, till an American told Mustapha I had written a book which +had made him (the American) wish well to the poor people of this country, +and desire to behave more kindly to them than would have been the case +before.</p> +<p>To-morrow is the smaller Bairam, and I shall have all the Hareem +here to visit me.</p> +<p>Two such nice Englishmen called the other day and told me they lived +in Hertford Street opposite Lady D. G.’s and saw Alexander go +in and out, and met Maurice in the gardens. It gave me a terrible +twinge of <i>Heimweh</i>, but I thought it so kind and pretty and <i>herzlich</i> +of them to come and tell me how Alexander and Maurice looked as they +went along the street.</p> +<h3>February 22, 1866: Mrs. Ross</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Ross</i>.<br /> +<i>February</i> 22, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Janet,</p> +<p>I received your letter of the 4th inst. yesterday. I am much +distressed not to hear a better account of you. Why don’t +you go to Cairo for a time? Your experience of your German confirms +me (if I needed it) in my resolution to have no more Europeans unless +I should find one ‘seasoned.’ The nuisance is too +great. I shall borrow a neighbour’s slave for my stay here +and take some one in Cairo. My dress will do very well in native +hands.</p> +<p>I am at last getting really better again, I hope. We have had +a cold winter, but not trying. There has not been much wind, and +the weather has been very steady and clear. I wish I had Palgrave’s +book. Hajjee Ali was to bring up my box, but it had not arrived +when he sailed. I will send down the old saddle whenever I can +find a safe opportunity and have received the other.</p> +<p>Many thanks for all the various detachments of newspapers, which +were a great solace. I wish you would give me your photo—large +size—to hang up with Rainie and Maurice here and in the boat. +Like the small one you gave me at Soden, you said you had some copies +big.</p> +<p>My doctoring business has become quite formidable. I should +like to sell my practice to any ‘rising young surgeon.’ +It brings in a very fair income of vegetables, eggs, turkeys pigeons, +etc.</p> +<p>How is the Shereef of Mecca’s horse? I ambition to ride +that holy animal.</p> +<h3>February 22, 1866: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>February</i> 22, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>The weather here is just beginning to get warm, and I of course to +get better. There has been a good deal of nervous headache here +this Ramadan. I had to attend the Kadee, and several more. +My Turkish neighbour at Karnac has got a <i>shaitan</i> (devil), <i>i.e</i>. +epileptic fits, and I was sent for to exorcise him, which I am endeavouring +to do with nitrate of silver, etc.; but I fear imagination will kill +him, so I advise him to go to Cairo, and leave the devil-haunted house. +I have this minute killed the first snake of this year—a sign +of summer.</p> +<p>I was so pleased to see two Mr. Watsons—your opposite neighbours—who +said they saw you every morning go down the street—<i>ojala</i>! +that I did so too! I liked Mr. and Mrs. Webb of Newstead Abbey +very much; nice, hearty, pleasant, truly English people.</p> +<p>There have not been above twenty or thirty boats up this year—mostly +Americans. There are some here now, very nice people, with four +little children, who create quite an excitement in the place, and are +‘mashallahed’ no end. Their little fair faces do look +very pretty here, and excite immense admiration.</p> +<p>Seyd has just come in to take my letter to the steamer which is now +going down. So <i>addio</i>, dearest Alick. I am much better +but still weakish, and very <i>triste</i> at my long separation.</p> +<h3>March 6, 1866: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<i>Tuesday</i>, <i>March</i> 6, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I write to be ready for the last <i>down</i> steamer which will be +here in a few days. Mr. and Miss North are here working hard at +sketching, and M. Brune will take a place in their Dahabieh (my old +Zint el Bahreyn), and leave me in six or seven days. I shall quite +grieve to lose his company. If ever you or yours fall in with +him, pray cultivate his acquaintance, he is very clever, very hard working, +and a ‘thorough-bred gentleman’ as Omar declares. +We are quite low-spirited at parting after a month spent together at +Thebes.</p> +<p>I hear that Olagnier has a big house in Old Cairo and will lodge +me. The Norths go to-day (Thursday) and M. Brune does not go with +them as he intended, but will stay on and finish a good stroke of work +and take his chance of a conveyance.</p> +<p>I spent yesterday out in Mustapha’s tent among the bean gatherers, +and will go again. I think it does me good and is not too long +a ride. The weather has set in suddenly very hot, which rather +tries everybody, but gloriously fine clear air. I hope you will +get this, as old fat Hassan will take it to the office in Cairo himself—for +the post is very insecure indeed. I have written very often, if +you don’t get my letters I suppose they interest the court of +Pharaoh.</p> +<h3>March 17, 1866: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Thebes</span>,<br /> +<i>March</i> 17, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>The high winds have begun with a vengeance and a great bore they +are.</p> +<p>I went a few days ago out to Medarnoot, and lunched in Mustapha’s +tent, among his bean harvest. I was immensely amused by the man +who went with me on to Medarnoot, one Sheriff, formerly an illustrious +robber, now a watchman and very honest man. He rode a donkey, +about the size of Stirling’s wee pony, and I laughed, and said, +‘The man should carry the ass.’ No sooner said than +done, Sheriff dismounted, or rather let his beast down from between +his legs, shouldered the donkey, and ran on. His way of keeping +awake is original; the nights are still cold, so he takes off all his +clothes, rolls them up and lays them under his head, and the cold keeps +him quite lively. I never saw so powerful, active and healthy +an animal. He was full of stories how he had had 1,000 stripes +of the courbash on his feet and 500 on his loins at one go. ‘Why?’ +I asked. ‘Why, I stuck a knife into a cawass who ordered +me to carry water-melons; I said I was not his donkey; he called me +worse: my blood got up, and so!—and the Pasha to whom the cawass +belonged beat me. Oh, it was all right, and I did not say “ach” +once, did I?’ (addressing another). He clearly bore no malice, +as he felt no shame. He has a grand romance about a city two days’ +journey from here, in the desert, which no one finds but by chance, +after losing his way; and where the ground is strewed with valuable +<i>anteekehs</i> (antiquities). I laughed, and said, ‘Your +father would have seen gold and jewels.’ ‘True,’ +said he, ‘when I was young, men spit on a statue or the like, +when they turned it up in digging, and now it is a fortune to find one.’</p> +<h3>March 31, 1866: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<i>March</i> 31, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>As for me I am much better again; the cough has subsided, I really +think the Arab specific, camel’s milk, has done me great good. +I have mended ever since I took it. It has the merit of being +quite delicious. Yesterday I was much amused when I went for my +afternoon’s drink, to find Sheriff in a great taking at having +been robbed by a woman, under his very nose. He saw her gathering +hummuz from a field under his charge, and went to order her off, whereupon +she coolly dropped the end of her <i>boordeh</i> which covered the head +and shoulders, effectually preventing him from going near her; made +up her bundle and walked off. His respect for the Hareem did not, +however, induce him to refrain from strong language.</p> +<p>M. Brune has made very pretty drawings of the mosque here, both outside +and in; it is a very good specimen of modern Arab architecture; and +he won’t believe it could be built without ground plan, elevations, +etc., which amuses the people here, who build without any such inventions.</p> +<p>The harvest here is splendid this year, such beans and wheat, and +prices have fallen considerably in both: but meat, butter, etc., remain +very dear. My fame as a Hakeemeh has become far too great, and +on market-days I have to shut up shop. Yesterday a very handsome +woman came for medicine to make her beautiful, as her husband had married +another who teazed her, and he rather neglected her. And a man +offered me a camel load of wheat if I would read something over him +and his wife to make them have children. I don’t try to +explain to them how very irrational they are but use the more intelligible +argument that all such practices savour of the <i>Ebu er Rukkeh</i> +(equivalent to black art), and are <i>haram</i> to the greatest extent; +besides, I add, being ‘all lies’ into the bargain. +The applicants for child-making and charm-reading are Copts or Muslims, +quite in equal numbers, and appear alike indifferent as to what ‘Book’: +but all but one have been women; the men are generally perfectly rational +about medicine and diet.</p> +<p>I find there is a good deal of discontent among the Copts with regard +to their priests and many of their old customs. Several young +men have let out to me at a great rate about the folly of their fasts, +and the badness and ignorance of their priests. I believe many +turn Muslim from a real conviction that it is a better religion than +their own, and not as I at first thought merely from interest; indeed, +they seldom gain much by it, and often suffer tremendous persecution +from their families; even they do not escape the rationalizing tendencies +now abroad in Christendom. Then their early and indissoluble marriages +are felt to be a hardship: a boy is married at eight years old, perhaps +to his cousin aged seventeen (I know one here in that case), and when +he grows up he wishes it had been let alone. A clever lad of seventeen +propounded to me his dissatisfaction, and seemed to lean to Islam. +I gave him an Arabic New Testament, and told him to read that first, +and judge for himself whether he could not still conform to the Church +of his own people, and inwardly believe and try to follow the Gospels. +I told him it was what most Christians had to do, as every man could +not make a sect for himself, while few could believe everything in any +Church. I suppose I ought to have offered him the Thirty-nine +Articles, and thus have made a Muslim of him out of hand. He pushed +me a little hard about several matters, which he says he does not find +in ‘the Book’: but on the whole he is well satisfied with +my advice.</p> +<p><i>Coptic Palm Sunday</i>, <i>April</i> 1.</p> +<p>We hear that Fadil Pasha received orders at Assouan to go up to Khartoum +in Giaffar Pasha’s place: it is a civil way of killing a fat old +Turk, if it is true. He was here a week or two ago. My informant +is one of my old crew who was in Fadil Pasha’s boat.</p> +<p>I shall wait to get a woman-servant till I go to Cairo, the women +here cannot iron or sew; so, meanwhile, the wife of Abd el-Kader, does +my washing, and Omar irons; and we get on capitally. Little Achmet +waits, etc., and I think I am more comfortable so than if I had a maid,—it +would be no use to buy a slave, as the trouble of teaching her would +be greater than the work she would do for me.</p> +<p>My medical reputation has become far too great, and all my common +drugs—Epsom salts, senna, aloes, rhubarb, quassia—run short. +Especially do all the poor, tiresome, ugly old women adore me, and bore +me with their aches and pains. They are always the doctor’s +greatest plague. The mark of confidence is that they now bring +the sick children, which was never known before, I believe, in these +parts. I am sure it would pay a European doctor to set up here; +the people would pay him a little, and there would be good profit from +the boats in the winter. I got turkeys when they were worth six +or eight shillings apiece in the market, and they were forced upon me +by the fellaheen. I must seal up this for fear the boat should +come; it will only pick up M. Brune and go on.</p> +<h3>April, 1866: Mrs. Ross</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Ross</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Eed el Kebeer</span>,<br /> +<i>Wednesday</i>, <i>April</i>, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Janet,</p> +<p>I had not heard a word of Henry’s illness till Mr. Palgrave +arrived and told me, and also that he was better. Alhamdulillah! +I only hope that you are not knocked up, my darling. I am not +ill, but still feel unaccountably weak and listless. I don’t +cough much, and have got fatter on my <i>régime</i> of camel’s +milk,—so I hope I may get over the languor. The box has +not made its appearance. What a clever fellow Mr. Palgrave is! +I never knew such a hand at languages. The folks here are in admiration +at his Arabic. I hope you will see M. Brune. I am sure you +would like him. He is a very accomplished and gentlemanly man.</p> +<p>You have never told me your plans for this year or whether I shall +find you when I go down. The last three days the great heat has +begun and I am accordingly feeling better. I have just come home +from the Bairam early prayer out in the burial-place, at which Palgrave +also assisted. He is unwell, and tells me he leaves Luxor to-morrow +morning. I shall stay on till I am too hot here, as evidently +the summer suits me.</p> +<p>Many thanks for Miss Berry and for the wine, which makes a very pleasant +change from the rather bad claret I have got. Palgrave’s +book I have read through hard, as he wished to take it back for you. +It is very amusing.</p> +<p>If you come here next winter Mustapha hopes you will bring a saddle, +and ride ‘all his horses.’ I think I could get you +a very good horse from a certain Sheykh Abdallah here.</p> +<p>Well, I must say good-bye. <i>Kulloo sana intee tayib</i>, +love to Henry.</p> +<h3>April, 1866: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Bairam</span>,<br /> +<i>April</i>, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I write this to go down by Mr. Palgrave who leaves to-morrow. +He has been with Mustapha Bey conducting an enquiry into Mustapha A’gha’s +business. Mariette Bey struck Mustapha, and I and some Americans +took it ill and wrote a very strong complaint to our respective Consuls. +Mariette denied the blow and the words ‘liar, and son of a dog’—so +the American and English Consuls sent up Palgrave as commissioner to +enquire into the affair, and the Pasha sent Mustapha Bey with him. +Palgrave is very amusing of course, and his knowledge of languages is +wonderful, Sheykh Yussuf says few <i>Ulema</i> know as much of the literature +and niceties of grammar and composition. Mustapha Bey is a darling; +he knew several friends of mine, Hassan Effendi, Mustapha Bey Soubky, +and others, so we were friends directly.</p> +<p>I have not yet got a woman-servant, but I don’t miss it at +all; little Achmet is very handy, Mahommed’s slave girl washes, +and Omar irons and cleans the house and does housemaid, and I have kept +on the meek cook, Abd el-Kader, whom I took while the Frenchman was +here. I had not the heart to send him away; he is such a <i>meskeen</i>. +He was a smart travelling waiter, but his brother died, leaving a termagant +widow with four children, and poor Abd el-Kader felt it his duty to +bend his neck to the yoke, married her, and has two more children. +He is a most worthy, sickly, terrified creature.</p> +<p>I have heard that a decent Copt here wants to sell a black woman +owing to reverses of fortune, and that she might suit me. Sheykh +Yussuf is to negotiate the affair and to see if the woman herself likes +me for a mistress, and I am to have her on trial for a time, and if +I like her and she me, Sheykh Yussuf will buy her with my money in his +name. I own I have very little scruple about the matter, as I +should consider her price as an advance of two or three years’ +wages and tear the paper of sale as soon as she had worked her price +out, which I think would be a fair bargain. But I must see first +whether Feltass (the Copt) really wants to sell her or only to get a +larger price than is fair, in which case I will wait till I go to Cairo. +Anything is better than importing a European who at once thinks one +is at her mercy on account of the expense of the journey back.</p> +<p>I went out this morning to the early prayer of Bairam day, held in +the burial-place. Mahmoud ibn-Mustapha preached, but the boys +and the Hareem made such a noise behind us that I could not hear the +sermon. The weather has set in hot these last days, and I am much +the better. It seems strange that what makes others languid seems +to strengthen me. I have been very weak and languid all the time, +but the camel’s milk has fattened me prodigiously, to Sherayeff’s +great delight; and the last hot days have begun to take away the miserable +feeling of fatigue and languor.</p> +<p>Palgrave is not well at all, and his little black boy he fears will +die, and several people in the steamer are ill, but in Luxor there is +no sickness to speak of, only chronic old women, so old and ugly and +<i>achy</i>, that I don’t know what to do with them, except listen +to their complaints, which begin, ‘<i>Ya ragleh</i>.’ +<i>Ragel</i> is man, so <i>ragleh</i> is the old German <i>Männin</i>, +and is the civil way of addressing a Saeedee woman. To one old +body I gave a powder wrapped up in a fragment of a <i>Saturday Review</i>. +She came again and declared Mashallah! the <i>hegab</i> (charm) was +a powerful one, for though she had not been able to wash off all the +fine writing from the paper, even that little had done her a deal of +good. I regret that I am unable to inform you what the subject +of the article in the <i>Saturday</i> which had so drastic an effect.</p> +<p>Good-bye, dearest Mutter, I must go and take a sleep before the time +of receiving the visits of to-day (the great festival). I was +up before sunrise to see the prayer, so must have a siesta in a cool +place. To-morrow morning early this will go. I hope you +got a letter I sent ten days or so ago.</p> +<h3>May 10, 1866: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>May</i> 10, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>The real summer heat—the <i>Skems el-Kebeer</i> (big sun) has +fairly set in, and of course I am all the better. You would give +my camel a good backsheesh if you saw how prodigiously fat I have grown +on her milk; it beats codliver-oil hollow. You can drink a gallon +without feeling it, it is so easy of digestion.</p> +<p>I have lent the dahabieh to Mustapha and to one or two more, to go +to Keneh on business, and when she returns (which will be to-day) I +shall make ready to depart too, and drop down stream. Omar wants +me to go down to Damietta, to ‘amuse my mind and dilate my stomach’ +a little; and I think of doing so.</p> +<p>Palgrave was here about a fortnight ago, on Mustapha’s and +Mariette’s business. ‘By God! this English way is +wonderful,’ said a witness, ‘that English Bey questioned +me till my stomach came out.’ I loved Mustapha Bey, who +was with him; such a nice, kind, gentle creature, and very intelligent +and full of good sense. I rejoice to hear that he returns my liking, +and has declared himself ‘one of my darweeshes.’ Talking +of darweeshes reminds me of the Festival of Sheykh Gibrieel this year. +I had forgotten the day, but in the evening some people came for me +to go and eat some of the meat of the Sheykh, who is also a good patron +of mine, they say; being a poor man’s saint, and of a humble spirit, +it is said he favours me. There was plenty of meat and <i>melocheea</i> +and bread; and then <i>zikrs</i> of different kinds, and a <i>Gama el +Fokara</i> (assembly of the poor). <i>Gama</i> is the true word +for Mosque—<i>i.e</i>., Meeting, which consists in a great circle +of men seated thick on the ground, with two poets facing each other, +who improvise religious verses. On this occasion the rule of the +game was to end each stanza with a word having the sound of <i>wahed</i> +(one), or <i>el Had</i> (the first). Thus one sung: ‘Let +a man take heed how he walks,’ etc., etc.; and ‘pray to +God not to let him fall,’ which sound like <i>Had</i>. And +so they went on, each chanting a verse alternately. One gesticulated +almost as much as an Italian and pronounced beautifully; the other was +quiet, but had a nice voice, and altogether it was very pretty. +At the end of each verse the people made a sort of chorus, which was +sadly like the braying of asses. The <i>zikr</i> of the Edfoo +men was very curious. Our people did it quietly, and the <i>moonsheed</i> +sang very sweetly—indeed ‘the song of the moonsheed is the +sugar in the sherbet to the Zikkeer,’ said a man who came up when +it was over, streaming with perspiration and radiant with smiles. +Some day I will write to you the whole ‘<i>grund Idee</i>’ +of a <i>zikr</i>, which is, in fact, an attempt to make present ‘the +communion of saints,’ dead or living. As I write arrives +the Arooset er-rallee, and my crew furl her big sail quite ‘Bristol +fashion.’ My men have come together again, some from Nubia +and some from the Delta; and I shall go down with my old lot.</p> +<p>Omar and Achmet have implored me not to take another maid at all; +they say they live like Pashas now they have only the lady to please; +that it will be a pleasure to ‘lick my shoes clean,’ whereas +the boots of the <i>Cameriera</i> were intolerable. The feeling +of the Arab servants towards European colleagues is a little like that +of ‘niggers’ about ‘mean whites’—mixed +hatred, fear, and scorn. The two have done so well to make me +comfortable that I have no possible reason for insisting on encumbering +myself with ‘an old man of the sea,’ in the shape of a maid; +and the difference in cost is immense. The one dish of my dinner +is ample relish to their bread and beans, while the cooking for a maid, +and her beer and wine, cost a great deal. Omar irons my clothes +very tidily, and little Achmet cleans the house as nicely as possible. +I own I am quite as much relieved by the absence of the ‘civilized +element’ as my retainers are.</p> +<p>Did I describe the Coptic Good Friday? Imagine 450 <i>Rekahs</i> +in church! I have seen many queer things, but nothing half so +queer as the bobbing of the Copts.</p> +<p>I went the other day to the old church six or eight miles off, where +they buried the poor old Bishop who died a week ago. Abu Khom, +a Christian <i>shaheed</i> (martyr), is buried there. He appeared +to Mustapha’s father when lost in the desert, and took him safe +home. On that occasion he was well mounted, and robed all in white, +with a <i>litham</i> in over his face. No one dares to steal anything +near his tomb, not one ear of corn. He revealed himself long ago +to one of the descendants of Abu-l-Hajjaj, and to this day every Copt +who marries in Luxor gives a pair of fowls to the family of that Muslim +in remembrance of Abu Khom.</p> +<p>I shall leave Luxor in five or six days—and write now to stop +all letters in Cairo.</p> +<p>I don’t know what to do with my sick; they come from forty +miles off, and sometimes twenty or thirty people sleep outside the house. +I dined with the Maōhn last night—‘pot luck’—and +was much pleased. The dear old lady was so vexed not to have a +better dinner for me that she sent me a splendid tray of <i>baklaweh</i> +this morning to make up for it.</p> +<h3>June 22, 1866: Maurice Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Maurice Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>June</i> 22, 1866.</p> +<p>Maurice my Darling,</p> +<p>I send you a Roman coin which a man gave me as a fee for medical +attendance. I hope you will like it for your watch-chain. +I made our Coptic goldsmith bore a hole in it. Why don’t +you write to me, you young rascal? I am now living in my boat, +and I often wish for you here to donkey ride about with me. I +can’t write you a proper letter now as Omar is waiting to take +this up to Mr. Palgrave with the drawings for your father. Omar +desires his best salaam to you and to Rainie, and is very much disappointed +that you are not coming out in the winter to go up to Luxor. We +had a hurricane coming down the Nile, and a boat behind us sank. +We only lost an anchor, and had to wait and have it fished up by the +fishermen of a neighbouring village. In places the water was so +shallow that the men had to push the boat over by main force, and all +went into the river. The captain and I shouted out, <i>Islam el +Islam</i>, equivalent to, ‘Heave away, boys.’ There +are splendid illuminations about to take place here, because the Pasha +has got leave to make his youngest boy his successor, and people are +ordered to rejoice, which they do with much grumbling—it will +cost something enormous.</p> +<h3>July 10, 1866: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Off Boulak, Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>July</i> 10, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I am much better again. My cold went off without a violent +illness and I was only weak and nervous. I am very comfortable +here, anchored off Boulak, with my Reis and one sailor who cleans and +washes my clothes which Omar irons, as at Luxor, as he found the washerwomen +here charged five francs a dozen for all small things and more for dresses. +A bad <i>hashash</i> boy turned Achmet’s head, who ran away for +two days and spent a dollar in riotous living; he returned penitent, +and got no fatted calf, but dry bread and a confiscation of his new +clothes.</p> +<p>The heat, when I left Luxor, was prodigious. I was detained +three days by the death of Sheykh Yussuf’s poor little wife and +baby (in childbirth) so I was forced to stay and eat the funeral feast, +and be present at the <i>Khatmeh</i> (reading of the Koran on the third +night), or it would not have seemed kind. The Kadee gave me a +very curious prayer-book, the Guide of the Faithful, written in Darfour! +in beautiful characters, and with very singular decorations, and in +splendid binding. It contains the names of all the prophets and +of the hundred appellations of Mohammed, and is therefore a powerful +<i>hegab</i> or talisman. He requested me never to give it away +and always to keep it with me. Such books cannot be bought with +money at all. I also bought a most beautiful <i>hegab</i> of cornelian +set in enamel, the verse of the throne splendidly engraved, and dated +250 years ago. I sent over by Palgrave to Alick M. Brune’s +lovely drawings of Luxor and Karnac, and to Maurice a gold coin which +I received as a fee from an old Bedawee.</p> +<p>It was so hot that I could not face the ride up to Keneh, when all +my friends there came to fetch me, nor could I go to Siout. I +never felt such heat. At Benisouef I went to see our Maōhn’s +daughter married to another Maōhn there; it was a pleasant visit. +The master of the house was out, and his mother and wife received me +like one of the family; such a pretty woman and such darling children!—a +pale, little slight girl of five, a sturdy boy of four, and a baby of +one year old. The eager hospitality of the little creatures was +quite touching. The little girl asked to have on her best frock, +and then she stood before me and fanned me seriously and diligently, +and asked every now and then, ‘Shall I make thee a sherbet?’ +‘Shall I bring thee a coffee?’ and then questions about +grandpapa and grand mamma, and Abd el-Hameed and Abd el-Fattah; while +the boy sat on his heels before me and asked questions about my family +in his baby talk, and assured me it was a good day to him, and wanted +me to stay three days, and to sleep with them. Their father came +in and gave each an ashara (10 foddahs, ½ piastre) which, after +consulting together, they tied in the corner of my handkerchief; ‘to +spend on my journey.’ The little girl took such care of +my hat and gloves and shoes, all very strange garments to her, but politeness +was stronger than curiosity with the little things. I breakfasted +with them all next day, and found much cookery going on for me. +I took a doll for my little friend Ayoosheh, and some sugar-plums for +Mohammed, but they laid them aside in order to devote themselves to +the stranger, and all quietly, and with no sort of show-off or obtrusiveness. +Even the baby seemed to have the instinct of hospitality, and was full +of smiles. It was all of a piece with the good old lady, their +grandmother at Luxor, who wanted to wash my clothes for me herself, +because I said the black slave of Mohammed washed badly. Remember +that to do ‘menial offices’ for a guest is an honour and +pleasure, and not derogatory at all here. The ladies cook for +you, and say, ‘I will cook my best for thee.’ The +worst is that they stuff one so. Little Ayoosheh asked after my +children, and said, ‘May God preserve them for thee! Tell +thy little girl that Mohammed and I love her from afar off.’ +Whereupon Mohammed declared that in a few years, please God, when he +should be <i>balal</i> (marriageable) he would marry her and live with +me. When I went back to the boat the Effendi was ill with asthma, +and I would not let him go with me in the heat (a polite man accompanies +an honoured guest back to his house or boat, or tent). So the +little boy volunteered, and we rode off on the Effendi’s donkey, +which I had to bestride, with Mohammed on the hump of the saddle before +me. He was delighted with the boat, of course, and romped and +played about till we sailed, when his slave took him home. Those +children gave me a happy day with their earnest, gracious hospitality.</p> +<p><i>July</i> 14<i>th</i>.—Since I wrote this, I have had the +boat topsy-turvy, with a carpenter and a <i>menegget</i> (cushion-stuffer), +and had not a corner even to write in. I am better, but still +cough every morning. I am, however, much better, and have quite +got over the nervous depression which made me feel unable and ashamed +to write. My young carpenter—a Christian—half Syrian, +half Copt, of the Greek rite, and altogether a Cairene—would have +pleased you. He would not work on Sunday, but instead, came mounted +on a splendid tall black donkey, and handsomely dressed, to pay me a +visit, and go out with me for a ride. So he, I, and Omar went +up to the Sittee (Lady) Zeyneb’s mosque, to inquire for Mustapha +Bey Soubky, the Hakeem Pasha, whom I had known at Luxor. I was +told by the porter of the mosque to seek him at the shop of a certain +grocer, his particular friend, where he sits every evening. On +going there we found the shop with its lid shut down (a shop is like +a box laid on its side with the lid pulled up when open and dropped +when shut; as big as a cobbler’s stall in Europe). The young +grocer was being married, and Mustapha Bey was ill. So I went +to his house in the quarter—such narrow streets!—and was +shown up by a young eunuch into the hareem, and found my old friend +very poorly, but spent a pleasant evening with him, his young wife—a +Georgian slave whom he had married,—his daughter by a former wife—whom +he had married when he was fourteen, and the female dwarf buffoon of +the Valideh Pasha (Ismail’s mother) whose heart I won by rising +to her, because she was so old and deformed. The other women laughed, +but the little old dwarf liked it. She was a Circassian, and seemed +clever. You see how the ‘Thousand and One Nights’ +are quite true and real; how great Beys sit with grocers, and carpenters +have no hesitation in offering civility to <i>naas omra</i> (noble people). +This is what makes Arab society quite unintelligible and impossible +to most Europeans.</p> +<p>My carpenter’s boy was the son of a <i>moonsheed</i> (singer +in the Mosque), and at night he used to sit and warble to us, with his +little baby-voice, and little round, innocent face, the most violent +love-songs. He was about eight years old, and sang with wonderful +finish and precision, but no expression, until I asked him for a sacred +song, which begins, ‘I cannot sleep for longing for thee, O Full +Moon’ (the Prophet), and then the little chap warmed to his work, +and the feeling came out.</p> +<p>Palgrave has left in my charge a little black boy of his, now at +Luxor, where he left him very ill, with Mustapha A’gha. +The child told me he was a <i>nyan-nyan</i> (cannibal), but he did not +look ogreish. I have written to Mustapha to send him me by the +first opportunity. Achmet has quite recovered his temper, and +I do so much better without a maid that I shall remain so. The +difference in expense is enormous, and the peace and quiet a still greater +gain; no more grumbling and ‘exigencies’ and worry; Omar +irons very fairly, and the sailor washes well enough, and I don’t +want toilette—anyhow, I would rather wear a sack than try the +experiment again. An uneducated, coarse-minded European is too +disturbing an element in the family life of Easterns; the sort of filial +relation, at once familiar and reverential of servants to a master they +like, is odious to English and still more to French servants. +If I fall in with an Arab or Abyssinian woman to suit me I will take +her; but of course it is rare; a raw slave can do nothing, nor can a +fellaha, and a Cairo woman is bored to death up in the Saeed. +As to care and attention, I want for nothing. Omar does everything +well and with pride and pleasure, and is delighted at the saving of +expense in wine, beer, meat, etc. etc. One feeds six or eight +Arabs well with the money for one European.</p> +<p>While the carpenter, his boy, and two <i>meneggets</i> were here, +a very moderate dish of vegetables, stewed with a pound of meat, was +put before me, followed by a chicken or a pigeon for me alone. +The stew was then set on the ground to all the men, and two loaves of +a piastre each, to every one, a jar of water, and, <i>Alhamdulillah</i>, +four men and two boys had dined handsomely. At breakfast a water-melon +and another loaf-a-piece, and a cup of coffee all round; and I pass +for a true Arab in hospitality. Of course no European can live +so, and they despise the Arabs for doing it, while the Arab servant +is not flattered at seeing the European get all sorts of costly luxuries +which he thinks unnecessary; besides he has to stand on the defensive, +in order not to be made a drudge by his European fellow-servant, and +despised for being one; and so he leaves undone all sorts of things +which he does with alacrity when it is for ‘the master’ +only. What Omar does now seems wonderful, but he says he feels +like the Sultan now he has only me to please.</p> +<p><i>July</i> 15<i>th</i>.—Last night came the two <i>meneggets</i> +to pay a friendly visit, and sat and told stories; so I ordered coffee, +and one took his sugar out of his pocket to put in his cup, which made +me laugh inwardly. He told a fisherman, who stopped his boat alongside +for a little conversation, the story of two fishermen, the one a Jew, +the other a Muslim, who were partners in the time of the Arab Prophet +(upon whom be blessing and peace!). The Jew, when he flung his +nets called on the Prophet of the Jews, and hauled it up full of fish +every time; then the Muslim called on our Master Mohammed etc., etc., +and hauled up each time only stones, until the Jew said, ‘Depart, +O man, thou bringest us misfortune; shall I continue to take half thy +stones, and give thee half my fish? Not so.’ So the +Muslim went to our Master Mohammed and said, ‘Behold, I mention +thy name when I cast my net, and I catch only stones and calamity. +How is this?’ But the blessed Prophet said to him, ‘Because +thy stomach is black inwardly, and thou thoughtest to sell thy fish +at an unfair price, and to defraud thy partner and the people, while +the Jew’s heart was clean towards thee and the people, and therefore +God listened to him rather than to thee.’ I hope our fisherman +was edified by this fine moral. I also had good stories from the +chief diver of Cairo, who came to examine the bottom of my boat, and +told me, in a whisper, a long tale of his grandfather’s descent +below the waters of the Nile, into the land of the people who lived +there, and keep tame crocodiles to hunt fish for them. They gave +him a sleeve-full of fishes’ scales, and told him never to return, +and not to tell about them: and when he got home the scales had turned +to money. But most wonderful of all was Haggi Hannah’s story +of her own life, and the journey of Omar’s mother carrying her +old mother in a basket on her head from Damietta to Alexandria, and +dragging Omar then a very little boy, by the hand. The energy +of many women here is amazing.</p> +<p>The Nile is rising fast, and the <i>Bisheer</i> is come (the messenger +who precedes the Hajj, and brings letters). <i>Bisheer</i> is +‘good tidings,’ to coin a word. Many hearts are lightened +and many half-broken to-day. I shall go up to the Abassia to meet +the Mahmal and see the Hajjees arrive.</p> +<p>Next Friday I must take my boat out of the water, or at least heel +her over, to repair the bad places made at Alexandria. It seems +I once cured a Reis of the Pasha’s of dysentery at Minieh, and +he has not forgotten it, though I had; so Reis Awad will give me a good +place on the Pasha’s bank, and lend ropes and levers which will +save a deal of expense and trouble. I shall move out all the things +and myself into a boat of Zubeydeh’s for four or five days, and +stay alongside to superintend my caulkers.</p> +<p>Miss Berry <i>is</i> dull no doubt, but few books seem dull to me +now, I can tell you, and I was much delighted with such a <i>pièce +de résistance</i>. Miss Eden I don’t wish for—that +sort of theatre burlesque view of the customs of a strange country is +inexpressibly tedious to one who is familiar with one akin to it. +There is plenty of <i>real</i> fun to be had here, but that sort is +only funny to cockneys. I want to read Baker’s book very +much. I am much pleased with Abd el-Kader’s book which Dozon +sent me, and want the original dreadfully for Sheykh Yussuf, to show +him that he and I are supported by such an authority as the great Ameer +in our notions about the real unity of the Faith. The book is +a curious mixture of good sense and credulity—quite ‘Arab +of the Arabs.’ I will write a paper on the popular beliefs +of Egypt; it will be curious, I think. By the way, I see in the +papers and reviews speculations as to some imaginary Mohammedan conspiracy, +because of the very great number of pilgrims last year from all parts +to Mecca. <i>C’est chercher midi à quatorze heures</i>. +Last year the day of Abraham’s sacrifice,—and therefore +<i>the</i> day of the pilgrimage—(the sermon on Mount Arafat) +fell on a Friday, and when that happens there is always a rush, owing +to the popular notion that the <i>Hajj el-Gumma</i> (pilgrimage of the +Friday) is seven times blessed, or even equivalent to making it seven +times in ordinary years. As any beggar in the street could tell +a man this, it may give you some notion of how absurdly people make +theories out of nothing for want of a little commonsense.</p> +<p>The <i>Moolid en-Nebbee</i> (Festival of the Prophet) has just begun. +I am to have a place in the great Derweesh’s tent to see the Doseh.</p> +<p>The Nile is rising fast; we shall kill the poor little Luxor black +lamb on the day of the opening of the canal, and have a <i>fantasia</i> +at night; only I grieve for my little white pussy, who sleeps every +night on Ablook’s (the lamb’s) woolly neck, and loves him +dearly. Pussy (‘Bish’ is Arabic for puss) was the +gift of a Coptic boy at Luxor, and is wondrous funny, and as much more +active and lissom than a European cat as an Arab is than an Englishman. +She and Achmet and Ablook have fine games of romps. Omar has set +his heart on an English signet ring with an oval stone to engrave his +name on, here you know they sign papers with a signet, not with a pen. +It must be <i>solid</i> to stand hard work.</p> +<p>Well, I must finish this endless letter. Here comes <i>such</i> +a bouquet from the Pasha’s garden (somebody’s sister’s +son is servant to the chief eunuch and brings it to me), a great round +of scarlet, surrounded with white and green and with tall reeds, on +which are threaded single tube-rose flowers, rising out of it so as +to figure a huge flower with white pistils. Arab gardeners beat +French flower-girls in bouquets.</p> +<h3>July 17, 1866: Alick</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>July</i> 17, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I am perfectly comfortable now with my aquatic <i>ménage</i>. +The Reis is very well behaved and steady and careful, and the sort of +Caliban of a sailor is a very worthy savage. Omar of course is +hardworked—what with going to market, cooking, cleaning, ironing, +and generally keeping everything in nice order but he won’t hear +of a maid of any sort. No wonder!</p> +<p>A clever old Reis has just come and over-hauled the bottom of the +boat, and says he can mend her without taking her out of the water. +We shall see; it will be great luck if he can. As I am the river +doctor, all the sailoring men are glad to do me a civility.</p> +<p>We have had the hottest of summers; it is now 98 in the cabin. +I have felt very unwell, but my blue devils are quite gone, and I am +altogether better. What a miserable war it is in Europe! +I am most anxious for the next papers. Here it is money misery; +the Pasha is something like bankrupt, and no one has had a day’s +pay these three months, even pensions of sixty piastres a month (seven +shillings) to poor old female slaves of Mahommed Ali’s are stopped.</p> +<p><i>August</i> 4.—The heat is and has been something fearful: +we are all panting and puffing. I can’t think what Palgrave +meant about my being tired of poor old Egypt; I am very happy and comfortable, +only I felt rather weak and poorly this year, and sometimes, I suppose, +rather <i>wacham</i>, as the Arabs say, after you and the children. +The heat, too, has made me lazy—it is 110 in the cabin, and 96 +at night.</p> +<p>I saw the <i>Moolid en-Nebbee</i> (Festival of the Prophet), and +the wonderful <i>Dóseh</i> (treading); it is an awful sight; +so many men drunk with religious ardour. <a name="citation293"></a><a href="#footnote293">{293}</a> +I also went to a Turkish Hareem, where my darweesh friends sent me; +it is just like a tea-party at Hampton Court, only handsomer, not as +to the ladies, but the clothes, furniture and jewels, and not a bit +like the description in Mrs. Lott’s most extraordinary book. +Nothing is so clean as a Turkish hareem, the furniture is Dutch as to +cleanliness, and their persons only like themselves—but oh! how +dull and <i>triste</i> it all seemed. One nice lady said to me, +‘If I had a husband and children like thee, I would die a hundred +times rather than leave them for an hour,’ another envied me the +power of going into the street and seeing the <i>Dóseh</i>. +She had never seen it, and never would.</p> +<p>To-morrow Olagnier will dine and spend the night here, to see the +cutting of the canal, and the ‘Bride of the Nile’ on Monday +morning. We shall sail up to old Cairo in the evening with the +Bride’s boat; also Hajjee Hannah is coming for the fantasia; after +the high Nile we shall take the boat out and caulk her and then, if +the excessive heat continues, I rather think of a month’s jaunt +to Beyrout just to freshen me up. Hajjee Ali is there, with all +his travelling materials and tents, so I need only take Omar and a bath +and carpet-bag. If the weather gets cool I shall stay in my boat. +The heat is far more oppressive here than it was at Luxor two years +ago; it is not so dry. The Viceroy is afraid of cholera, and worried +the poor Hajjees this year with most useless quarantine. The <i>Mahmal</i> +was smuggled into Cairo before sunrise, without the usual honours, and +all sightseers and holiday makers disappointed, and all good Muslims +deeply offended. The idea that the Pasha has turned Christian +or even Jew is spreading fast; I hear it on all sides. The new +firman illegitimatising so many of his children is of course just as +agreeable to a sincere Moslem as a law sanctioning polygamy for our +royal family would be with us.</p> +<h3>August 20, 1866: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Off Boulak</span>,<br /> +<i>August</i> 20, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>Since I wrote I have had a bad bilious attack, which has of course +aggravated my cough. Everyone has had the same, and most far worse +than I, but I was very wretched and most shamefully cross. Omar +said, ‘That is not you but the sickness,’ when I found fault +with everything, and it was very true. I am still seedy. +Also I am beyond measure exasperated about my boat. I went up +to the <i>Ata el-Khalig</i> (cutting of the canal) to see the great +sight of the ‘Bride of the Nile,’ a lovely spectacle; and +on returning we all but sank. I got out into a boat of Zubeydeh’s +with all my goods, and we hauled up my boat, and found her bottom rotten +from stem to stern. So here I am in the midst of wood merchants, +sawyers, etc., etc., rebuilding her bottom. My Reis said he had +‘carried her on his head all this time’ but ‘what +could such a one as he say against the word of a Howagah, like Ross’s +storekeeper?’ When the English cheat each other there remains +nothing but to seek refuge with God. Omar buys the wood and superintends, +together with the Reis, and the builders seem good workmen and fair-dealing. +I pay day by day, and have a scribe to keep the accounts. If I +get out of it for £150 I shall think Omar has done wonders, for +every atom has to be new. I never saw anything so rotten afloat. +If I had gone up the Cataract I should never have come down alive. +It is a marvel we did not sink long ago.</p> +<p>Mahbrook, Palgrave’s boy, has arrived, and turns out well. +He is a stout lubberly boy, with infinite good humour, and not at all +stupid, and laughs a good real nigger yahyah, which brings the fresh +breezes and lilac mountains of the Cape before me when I hear it. +When I tell him to do anything he does it with strenuous care, and then +asks, <i>tayib</i>? (is it well) and if I say ‘Yes’ he goes +off, as Omar says, ‘like a cannon in Ladyship’s face,’ +in a guffaw of satisfaction. Achmet, who is half his size, orders +him about and teaches him, with an air of extreme dignity and says pityingly +to me, ‘You see, oh Lady, he is quite new, quite green.’ +Achmet, who had never seen a garment or any article of European life +two years ago, is now a smart valet, with very distinct ideas of waiting +at table, arranging my things etc. and cooks quite cleverly. Arab +boys are amazing. I have promoted him to wages—one napoleon +a month—so now he will keep his family. He is about a head +taller than Rainie.</p> +<p>I intend to write a paper on the various festivals and customs of +Copts and Muslims; but I must wait to see Abu Seyfeyn, near Luxor, the +great Christian Saint, where all go to be cured of possession—all +mad people. The Viceroy wages steady war against all festivals +and customs. The <i>Mahmal</i> was burked this year, and the fair +at Tantah forbidden. Then the Europeans spoil all; the Arabs no +longer go to the <i>Ata el-Khalig</i>, and at the <i>Dóseh</i>, +the Frangee carriages were like the Derby day. It is only up country +that the real thing remains.</p> +<p>To-morrow my poor black sheep will be killed over the new prow of +the boat; his blood ‘straked’ upon her, and his flesh sodden +and eaten by all the workmen, to keep off the evil eye; and on the day +she goes into the water, some <i>Fikees</i> will read the Koran in the +cabin, and again there will be boiled mutton and bread. The Christian +<i>Ma-allimeen</i> (skilled workmen) hold to the ceremony of the sheep +quite as much as the others, and always do it over a new house, boat, +mill, waterwheel etc.</p> +<p>Did I tell you Omar has another girl—about two months ago? +His wife and babies are to come up from Alexandria to see him, for he +will not leave me for a day, on account of my constantly being so ailing +and weak. I hope if I die away from you all, you will do something +for Omar for my sake, I cannot conceive what I should do without his +faithful and loving care. I don’t know why he is so devotedly +fond of me, but he certainly does love me as he says ‘like his +mother,’ and moreover as a very affectionate son loves his other. +How pleasant it would be if you could come—but please don’t +run any risks of fatigue or exposure to cold on your return. If +you cannot come I shall go to Luxor early in October and send back the +boat to let. I hear from Luxor that the people are all running +away from the land, unable to pay triple taxes and eat bread: the ruin +is universal. The poor Sheykhs el-Beled, who had the honour of +dining with the Viceroy at Minieh have each had a squeeze politely administered. +One poor devil I know had to ‘make a present’ of 50 purses.</p> +<p>How is my darling Rainie? I do so long for her earnest eyes +at times, and wonder if I shall ever be able to get back to you all +again. I fear that break down at Soden sent me down a great terrace. +I have never lost the pain and the cough for a day since. I have +not been out for an age, or seen anyone. Would you know the wife +of your bosom in a pair of pink trousers and a Turkish <i>tob</i>? +Such is my costume as I write. The woman who came to sew could +not make a gown, so she made me a pair of trousers instead. Farewell, +dearest, I dare hardly say how your hint of possibly coming has made +me wish it, and yet I dread to persuade you. The great heat is +quite over with the high Nile, and the air on the river fresh and cool—cold +at night even.</p> +<h3>August 27, 1866: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Off Boulak</span><br /> +<i>August</i> 27, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>Your letter of the 18th has this moment arrived. I am very +glad to hear you are so much better. I am still seedy-ish, but +no worse. Everybody is liver-sick this year, I give calomel and +jalep all round—except to myself.</p> +<p>The last two or three days we have been in great tribulation about +the boat. On Saturday all her ribs were finished, and the planking +and caulking ready to be put on, when in the night up came the old Nile +with a rush, and threatened to carry her off; but by the favour of Abu-l-Hajjaj +and Sheykh el-Bostawee she was saved in this wise. You remember +the tall old steersman who went with us to Bedreeshayn, and whom we +thought so ill-conditioned; well, he was in charge of a dahabieh close +by, and he called up all the Reises and steermen to help. ‘Oh +men of el-Bostawee, this is <i>our</i> boat (<i>i.e</i>. we are the +servants of her owner) and she is in our faces;’ and then he set +the example, stripped and carried dust and hammered in piles all night, +and by the morning she was surrounded by a dyke breast-high. The +‘long-shore’ men of Boulak were not a little surprised to +see dignified Reises working for nothing like fellaheen. Meanwhile +my three <i>Ma-allimeen</i>, the chief builder, caulker and foreman, +had also stayed all night with Omar and my Reis, who worked like the +rest, and the Sheykh of all the boat-builders went to visit one of my +<i>Ma-allimeen</i>, who is his nephew, and hearing the case came down +too at one in the morning and stayed till dawn. Then as the workmen +passed, going to their respective jobs, he called them, and said, ‘Come +and finish this boat; it must be done by to-morrow night.’ +Some men who objected and said they were going to the Pasha’s +dockyard, got a beating <i>pro forma</i> and the end of it was that +I found forty-six men under my boat working ‘like Afreets and +Shaitans,’ when I went to see how all was going in the morning. +The old Sheykh marked out a piece to each four men, and then said, ‘If +that is not done to-night, Oh dogs! to-morrow I’ll put on the +hat’—<i>i.e</i>. ‘To-day I have beaten moderately, +like an Arab, but to-morrow, please God, I’ll beat like a Frank, +and be mad with the stick.’ <i>Kurz und gut</i>, the boat +which yesterday morning was a skeleton, is now, at four p.m. to-day, +finished, caulked, pitched and all capitally done; if the Nile carries +off the dyke, she will float safe. The shore is covered with débris +of other people’s half-finished boats I believe. I owe the +ardour of the <i>Ma-allims</i> and of the Sheykh of the builders to +one of my absurd pieces of Arab civility. On the day when Omar +killed poor Ablook, my black sheep, over the bows and ‘straked’ +his blood upon them, the three <i>Ma-allimeen</i> came on board this +boat to eat their dish, and I followed the old Arab fashion and ate +out of the wooden dish with them and the Reis ‘for luck,’ +or rather ‘for a blessing’ as we say here; and it seems +that this gave immense satisfaction.</p> +<p>My Reis wept at the death of the black sheep, which used to follow +him to the coffee-shop and the market, and ‘was to him as a son,’ +he said, but he ate of him nevertheless. Omar surreptitiously +picked out the best pieces for my dinner for three days, with his usual +eye to economy; then lighted a fire of old wood, borrowed a cauldron +of some darweeshes, cut up the sheep, added water and salt, onions and +herbs, and boiled the sheep. Then the big washing copper (a large +round flat tray, like a sponging bath) was filled with bread broken +in pieces, over which the broth was slowly poured till the bread was +soaked. Next came a layer of boiled rice, on the top of that the +pieces of boiled meat, and over all was poured butter, vinegar and garlic +boiled together. This is called a <i>Fettah</i>, and is the orthodox +dish of darweeshes and given at all <i>Khatmehs</i> and other semi-religious, +semi-festive, semi-charitable festivities. It is excellent and +not expensive. I asked how many had eaten and was told one hundred +and thirty men had ‘blessed my hand.’ I expended 160 +piastres on bread, butter and vinegar, etc. and the sheep was worth +two napoleons; three napoleons in all, or less—for I ate for two +days of the mutton.</p> +<p>The three <i>Ma-allims</i> came on board this boat, as I said and +ate; and it was fine to hear us—how polite we were. ‘A +bit more, oh <i>Ma-allim</i>?’ ‘Praise be to God, +we have eaten well—we will return to our work’; ‘By +the Prophet, coffee and a pipe.’ ‘Truly thou art of +the most noble people.’ ‘Oh <i>Ma-allim</i>, ye have +honoured us and rejoiced us,’ ‘Verily this is a day white +among days,’ etc. A very clever Egyptian engineer, a pupil +of Whitworth’s, who is living in a boat alongside mine, was much +amused, and said, ‘Ah you know how to manage ’em.’</p> +<p>I have learnt the story of the two dead bodies that hitched in my +anchor-chain some time ago. They were not Europeans as I thought, +but Circassians—a young man and his mother. The mother used +to take him to visit an officer’s wife who had been brought up +in the hareem of the Pasha’s mother. The husband caught +them, killed them, tied them together and flung them into the Nile near +Rhoda, and gave himself into the hands of the police. All was +of course hushed up. He goes to Fazoghlou; and I don’t know +what becomes of the slave-girl, his wife. These sort of things +happen every day (as the bodies testify) among the Turks, but the Europeans +never hear it. I heard it by a curious chance.</p> +<p><i>September</i> 4.—My boat will soon be finished, and now +will be as good as new. Omar has worked like a good one from daybreak +till night, overlooking, buying all the materials, selling all the old +wood and iron, etc., and has done capitally. I shall take a paper +from my <i>Ma-allims</i> who are all first class men, to certify what +they have done and that the boat is as good as new. Goodah Effendi +has kindly looked at her several times for me and highly approves the +work done I never saw men do a better day’s work than those at +the boat. It is pretty to see the carpenter holding the wood with +one hand and one foot while he saws it, sitting on the ground—just +like the old frescoes. Do you remember the picture of boat-building +in the tomb at Sakkara? Well, it is just the same; all done with +the adze; but it is stout work they put into it, I can tell you.</p> +<p>If you do not come (and I do not like to press you, I fear the fatigue +for you and the return to the cold winter) I shall go to Luxor in a +month or so and send back the boat to let. I have a neighbour +now, Goodah Effendi, an engineer, who studied and married in England. +His wife is gone there with the children, and he is living in a boat +close by; so he comes over of an evening very often, and I am glad of +his company: he is a right good fellow and very intelligent.</p> +<p>My best love to all at home. I’ve got a log from the +cedars of Lebanon, my Moslem carpenter who smoothed the broken end, +swallowed the sawdust, because he believed ‘Our Lady Mary’ +had sat under the tree with ‘Our Lord Jesus.’</p> +<h3>September 21, 1886: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Off Boulak</span>,<br /> +<i>September</i> 21, 1886.</p> +<p>I am better again now and go on very comfortably with my two little +boys. Omar is from dawn till night at work at my boat, so I have +only Mahbrook and Achmet, and you would wonder to see how well I am +served. Achmet cooks a very good dinner, serves it and orders +Mahbrook about. Sometimes I whistle and hear <i>hader</i> (ready) +from the water and in tumbles Achmet, with the water running ‘down +his innocent nose’ and looking just like a little bronze triton +of a Renaissance fountain, with a blue shirt and white skull-cap added. +Mahbrook is a big lubberly lad of the laugh-and-grow-fat breed, clumsy, +but not stupid, and very good and docile. You would delight in +his guffaws, and the merry games and hearty laughter of my <i>ménage</i> +is very pleasant to me. Another boy swims over from Goodah’s +boat (his Achmet), and then there are games at piracy, and much stealing +of red pots from the potter’s boats. The joke is to snatch +one under the owner’s very nose, and swim off brandishing it, +whereupon the boatman uses eloquent language, and the boys out-hector +him, and everybody is much amused. I only hope Palgrave won’t +come back from Sookum Kaleh to fetch Mahbrook just as he has got clever—not +at stealing jars, but in his work. He already washes my clothes +very nicely indeed; his stout black arms are made for a washer-boy. +Achmet looked forward with great eagerness to your coming. He +is mad to go to England, and in his heart planned to ingratiate himself +with you, and go as a ‘general servant.’ He is very +little, if at all, bigger than a child of seven, but an Arab boy ‘<i>ne +doute de rien</i>’ and does serve admirably. What would +an English respectable cook say to seeing ‘two dishes and a sweet’ +cooked over a little old wood on a few bricks, by a baby in a blue shirt? +and very well cooked too, and followed by incomparable coffee.</p> +<p>You will be pleased to hear that your capital story of the London +cabman has its exact counterpart here. ‘Oh gracious God, +what aileth thee, oh Achmet my brother, and why is thy bosom contracted +that thou hast not once said to me d------n thy father, or son of a +dog or pig, as thou art used to do.’</p> +<p>Can’t you save up your holidays and come for four months next +winter with my Maurice? However perhaps you would be bored on +the Nile. I don’t know. People either enjoy it rapturously +or are bored, I believe. I am glad to hear from Janet that you +are well. I am much better. The carpenter will finish in +the boat to-day, then the painter begins and in a week, Inshallah, I +shall get back into her.</p> +<h3>September 21, 1886: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Off Boulak</span>,<br /> +<i>September</i> 21, 1886.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I am a good deal better again; the weather is delightful, and the +Nile in full flood, which makes the river scenery from the boat very +beautiful. Alick made my mouth water with his descriptions of +his rides with Janet about the dear old Surrey country, having her with +him seems to have quite set him up. I have seen nothing and nobody +but my ‘next boat’ neighbour, Goodah Effendi, as Omar has +been at work all day in the boat, and I felt lazy and disinclined to +go out alone. Big Hassan of the donkeys has grown too lazy to +go about and I don’t care to go alone with a small boy here. +However I am out in the best of air all day and am very well off. +My two little boys are very diverting and serve me very well. +The news from Europe is to my ignorant ideas <i>désolant</i>, +a <i>dégringolade back</i> into military despotism, which would +have excited indignation with us in our fathers’ days, I think. +I get lots of newspapers from Ross, which afterwards go to an Arab grocer, +who reads the <i>Times</i> and the <i>Saturday Review</i> in his shop +in the bazaar! what next? The cargo of books which Alick and you +sent will be most acceptable for winter consumption. If I were +a painter I would take up the Moslem traditions of Joseph and Mary. +He was not a white-bearded old gentleman at all you must know, but young, +lovely and pure as Our Lady herself. They were cousins, brought +up together; and she avoided the light conversation of other girls, +and used to go to the well with her jar, hand in hand with Joseph carrying +his. After the angel Gabriel had announced to her the will of +God, and blown into her sleeve, whereby she conceived ‘the Spirit +of God,’ Joseph saw her state with dismay, and resolved to kill +her, as was his duty as her nearest male relation. He followed +her, knife in hand, meaning always to kill her at the next tree, and +each time his heart failed him, until they reached the well and the +tree under which the Divine messenger stood once more and said, ‘Fear +not oh Joseph, the daughter of thy uncle bears within her Eesa, the +Messiah, the Spirit of God.’ Joseph married his cousin without +fear. Is it not pretty? the two types of youthful purity and piety, +standing hand in hand before the angel. I think a painter might +make something out of the soft-eyed Syrian boy with his jar on his shoulder +(hers on the head), and the grave, modest maiden who shrank from all +profane company.</p> +<p>I now know all about Sheykh Seleem, and why he sits naked on the +river bank; from very high authority—a great Sheykh to whom it +has been revealed. He was entrusted with the care of some of the +holy she camels, like that on which the Prophet rode to Jerusalem in +one night, and which are invisible to all but the elect, and he lost +one, and now he is God’s prisoner till she is found.</p> +<p>A letter from aunt Charley all about her own and Rainie’s country +life, school feasts etc., made me quite cry, and brought before me—oh, +how vividly—the difference between East and West, not quite <i>all</i> +to the advantage of home however, though mostly. What is pleasant +here is the primitive ways. Three times since I have been here +lads of most respectable families of Luxor have come to ask hospitality, +which consists in a place on the deck of the boat, and liberty to dip +their bread in the common dish with my slave boy and Achmet. The +bread they brought with them, ‘bread and shelter’ were not +asked, as they slept <i>sub dio</i>. In England I must have refused +the hospitality, on account of <i>gêne</i> and expense. +The chief object to the lads was the respectability of being under my +eye while away from their fathers, as a satisfaction to their families; +and while they ate and slept like beggars, as we should say, they read +their books and chatted with me, when I was out on the deck, on perfectly +equal terms, only paying the respect proper to my age. I thought +of the ‘orphanages and institutions’ and all the countless +difficulties of that sort, and wondered whether something was not to +be said for this absence of civilization in knives, forks, beds, beer, +and first and second tables above all. Of course climate has a +good deal to do with the facility with which widows and orphans are +absorbed here.</p> +<p>Goodbye dearest Mutter: to-day is post day, and Reis Mohammed is +about to trudge into town in such a dazzling white turban and such a +grand black robe. His first wife, whom he was going to divorce +for want of children, has brought him a son, and we jeer him a little +about what he may find in Luxor from the second, and wish him a couple +of dozen.</p> +<h3>October 15, 1866: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>October</i> 15, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I have been back in my own boat four days, and most comfortable she +is. I enlarged the saloon, and made a good writing table, and +low easy divans instead of benches, and added a sort of pantry and sleeping +cabin in front; so that Omar has not to come through the saloon to sleep; +and I have all the hareem part to myself. Inside there is a good +large stern cabin, and wash-closet and two small cabins with beds long +enough even for you. Inshallah, you and Maurice will come next +winter and go up the Nile and enjoy it with me. I intend to sail +in ten days and to send back the ‘Urania’ to seek work for +the winter. We had a very narrow escape of being flooded this +year. I fear a deal of damage has been done to the dourrah and +cotton crops. It was sad to see the villagers close by here trying +to pull up a little green dourrah as the Nile slowly swallowed up the +fields.</p> +<p>I was forced to flog Mabrook yesterday for smoking on the sly, a +grave offence here on the part of a boy; it is considered disrespectful; +so he was ordered, with much parade, to lie down, and Omar gave him +two cuts with a rope’s end, an apology for a flogging which would +have made an Eton boy stare. The stick here is quite nominal, +except in official hands. I can’t say Mabrook seemed at +all impressed, for he was laughing heartily with Omar in less than ten +minutes; but the affair was conducted with as much solemnity as an execution.</p> +<p>‘Sheykh’ Stanley’s friend, Gezawee, has married +his negro slave to his own sister, on the plea that he was the best +young man he knew. What would a Christian family say to such an +arrangement?</p> +<p>My boat is beautifully buoyant now, and has come up by the bows in +fine style. I have not sailed her yet, but have doubt she will +‘walk well’ as the Arabs say. Omar got £10 by +the sale of old wood and nails, and also gave me 2000 piastres, nearly +£12, which the workmen had given him as a sort of backsheesh. +They all pay one, two or three piastres daily to any <i>wakeel</i> (agent) +who superintends; that is his profit, and it is enormous at that rate. +I said, ‘Why did you not refuse it?’ But Omar replied +they had pay enough after that reduction, which is always made from +them, and that in his opinion therefore, it came out of the master’s +pocket, and was ‘cheatery.’ How people have been talking +nonsense about Jamaica <i>chez vous</i>. I have little doubt Eyre +did quite right, and still less doubt that the niggers have had enough +of the sort of provocation which I well know, to account for the outbreak. +Baker’s effusion is a very poor business. There may be blacks +like tigers (and whites too in London for that matter). I myself +have seen at least five sorts of blacks (negroes, not Arabs), more unlike +each other than Swedes are unlike Spaniards; and many are just like +ourselves. Of course they want governing with a strong hand, like +all ignorant, childish creatures. But I am fully convinced that +custom and education are the only real differences between one set of +men and another, their inner nature is the same all the world over.</p> +<p>My Reis spoke such a pretty parable the other day that I must needs +write it. A Coptic Reis stole some of my wood, which we got back +by force and there was some reviling of the Nazarenes in consequence +from Hoseyn and Ali; but Reis Mohammed said: ‘Not so; Girgis is +a thief, it is true, but many Christians are honest; and behold, all +the people in the world are like soldiers, some wear red and some blue; +some serve on foot, others on horseback, and some in ships; but all +serve one Sultan, and each fights in the regiment in which the Sultan +has placed him, and he who does his duty best is the best man, be his +coat red or blue or black.’ I said, ‘Excellent words, +oh Reis, and fit to be spoken from the best of pulpits.’ +It is surprising what happy sayings the people here hit upon; they cultivate +talk for want of reading, and the consequence is great facility of narration +and illustration. Everybody enforces his ideas like Christ, in +parables. Hajjee Hannah told me two excellent fairy tales, which +I will write for Rainie with some Bowdlerizing, and several laughable +stories, which I will leave unrecorded, as savouring too much of Boccaccio’s +manner, or that of the Queen of Navarre. I told Achmet to sweep +the floor after dinner just now. He hesitated, and I called again: +‘What manner is this, not to sweep when I bid thee?’ +‘By the most high God,’ said the boy, ‘my hand shall +not sweep in thy boat after sunset, oh Lady; I would rather have it +cut off than sweep thee out of thy property.’ I found that +you must not sweep at night, nor for three days after the departure +of a guest whose return you desire, or of the master of the house. +‘Thinkest thou that my brother would sweep away the dust of thy +feet from the floors at Luxor,’ continued Achmet, ‘he would +fear never to see thy fortunate face again.’ If you don’t +want to see your visitor again you break a <i>gulleh</i> (water-jar) +behind him as he leaves the house, and sweep away his footsteps.</p> +<p>What a canard your papers have in Europe about a constitution here. +I won’t write any politics, it is all too dreary; and Cairo gossip +is odious, as you may judge by the productions of Mesdames Odouard and +Lott. Only remember this, there is no law nor justice but the +will, or rather the caprice, of one man. It is nearly impossible +for any European to conceive such a state of things as really exists. +Nothing but perfect familiarity with the governed, <i>i.e</i>. oppressed, +class will teach it; however intimate a man may be with the rulers he +will never fully take it in. I am <i>à l’index</i> +here, and none of the people I know dare come to see me; Arab I mean. +It was whispered in my ear in the street by a friend I met. Ismael +Pasha’s chief pleasure is gossip, and a certain number of persons, +chiefly Europeans, furnish him with it daily, true or false. If +the farce of the constitution ever should be acted here it will be superb. +Something like the Consul going in state to ask the fellaheen what wages +they got. I could tell you a little of the value of consular information; +but what is the use? Europe is enchanted with the enlightened +Pasha who has ruined this fine country.</p> +<p>I long so to see you and Rainie! I don’t like to hope +too much, but Inshallah, next year I shall see you all.</p> +<h3>October 19, 1866: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Off Boulak</span>,<br /> +<i>October</i> 19, 1866.</p> +<p>I shall soon sail up the river. Yesterday Seyd Mustapha arrived, +who says that the Greeks are all gone, and the poor Austrian at Thebes +is dead, so I shall represent Europe in my single person from Siout +to, I suppose, Khartoum.</p> +<p>You would delight in Mabrook; a man asked him the other day after +his flogging, if he would not run away, to see what he would say as +he alleged, I suspect he meant to steal and sell him. ‘I +run away, to eat lentils like you? when <i>my</i> Effendi gives me meat +and bread every day, and <i>I eat such a lot</i>.’ Is not +that a delicious practical view of liberty? The creature’s +enjoyment of life is quite a pleasure to witness, and he really works +very well and with great alacrity. If Palgrave claims him I think +I must buy him.</p> +<p>I hear sad accounts from the Saeed: the new taxes and the new levies +of soldiers are driving the people to despair and many are running away +from the land, which will no longer feed them after paying all exactions, +to join the Bedaween in the desert, which is just as if our peasantry +turned gipsies. A man from Dishné visited me: the people +there want me to settle in their village and offer me a voluntary <i>corvée</i> +if I will buy land, so many men to work for me two days a month each, +I haven’t a conception why. It is a place about fifty miles +below Luxor, a large agricultural village.</p> +<p>Omar’s wife Mabrookah came here yesterday, a nice young woman, +and the babies are fine children and very sweet-tempered. She +told me that the lion’s head, which I sent down to Alexandria +to go to you, was in her room when a neighbour of hers, who had never +had a child, saw it, and at once conceived. The old image worship +survives in the belief, which is all over Egypt, that the ‘Anteeks’ +(antiques) can cure barrenness. Mabrookah was of course very smartly +dressed, and the reckless way in which Eastern women treat their fine +clothes gives them a grand air, which no Parisian Duchess could hope +to imitate—not that I think it a virtue mind you, but some vices +are genteel.</p> +<p>Last night was a great Sheykh’s fête, such drumming and +singing, and ferrying across the river. The Nile is running down +unusually fast, and I think I had better go soon, as the mud of Cairo +is not so sweet as the mud of the upper land.</p> +<h3>October 25, 1866: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Off Boulak</span>,<br /> +<i>October</i> 25, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I have got all ready, and shall sail on Saturday. My men have +baked the bread, and received their wages to go to Luxor and bring the +boat back to let. It is turning cold, but I feel none the worse +for it, though I shall be glad to go. I’ve had a dreary, +worrying time here, and am tired of hearing of all the meannesses and +wickedness which constitute the <i>on dits</i> here. Not that +I hear much, but there is nothing else. I shall be best at Luxor +now the winter has set in so early. You would laugh at such winter +when one sits out all day under an awning in English summer clothes, +and wants only two blankets at night; but all is comparative <i>ici +bas</i>, and I call it cold, and Mabrook ceases to consider his clothes +such a grievance as they were to him at first, and takes kindly to a +rough <i>capote</i> for the night. I have just been interrupted +by my Reis and one of my men, who came in to display the gorgeous printed +calico they have bought; one for his Luxor wife and the other for his +betrothed up near Assouan. (The latter is about eight years old, +and Hosein has dressed her and paid her expenses these five years, as +is the custom up in that district.) The Reis has bought a silk +head-kerchief for nine shillings, but that was in the marriage contract. +So I must see, admire and wish good luck to the finery, and to the girls +who are to wear it. Then we had a little talk about the prospects +of letting the boat, and, Inshallah, making some money for <i>el gamma</i>, +<i>i.e</i>., ‘all our company,’ or ‘all of us together.’ +The Reis hopes that the <i>Howagat</i> will not be too outrageous in +their ways or given to use the stick, as the solution of every difficulty.</p> +<p>The young Shurafa of Abu-l-Hajjaj came from Gama’l Azhar to-day +to bid me goodbye and bring their letters for Luxor. I asked them +about the rumours that the Ulema are preaching against the Franks (which +is always being said), but they had heard nothing of the sort, and said +they had not heard of anything the Franks had done lately which would +signify to the Muslims at all. It is not the Franks who press +so many soldiers, or levy such heavy taxes three months in advance! +I will soon write again. I feel rather like the wandering Jew +and long for home and rest, without being dissatisfied with what I have +and enjoy, God knows. If I <i>could</i> get better and come home +next summer.</p> +<h3>November 21, 1866: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>November</i> 21, 1866</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I arrived here on the morning of the 11th. I am a beast not +to have written, but I caught cold after four days and have really not +been well, so forgive me, and I will narrate and not apologize. +We came up best pace, as the boat is a flyer now, only fourteen days +to Thebes, and to Keneh only eleven. Then we had bad winds, and +my men pulled away at the rope, and sang about the <i>Reis el-Arousa</i> +(bridegroom) going to his bride, and even Omar went and pulled the rope. +We were all very merry, and played practical jokes on a rascal who wanted +a pound to guide me to the tombs: we made him run miles, fetch innumerable +donkeys, and then laughed at his beard. Such is boatmen fun. +On arriving at Luxor I heard a <i>charivari</i> of voices, and knew +I was ‘at home,’ by the shrill pipe of the little children, +<i>el Sitt</i>, <i>el Sitt</i>. Visitors all day of course, at +night comes up another dahabieh, great commotion, as it had been telegraphed +from Cairo (which I knew before I left, and was to be stopped). +So I coolly said, ‘Oh Mustapha, the Indian saint (Walee) is in +thine eye, seeing that an Indian is all as one with an Englishman.’ +‘How did I know there was an Indian and a Walee?’ etc. +Meanwhile the Walee had a bad thumb, and some one told his slave that +there was a wonderful English doctress, so in the morning he sent for +me, and I went inside the hareem. He was very friendly, and made +me sit close beside him, told me he was fourth in descent from Abd el-Kader +Gylamee of Bagdad, but his father settled at Hyderabad, where he has +great estates. He said he was a Walee or saint, and would have +it that I was in the path of the darweeshes; gave me medicine for my +cough; asked me many questions, and finally gave me five dollars and +asked if I wanted more? I thanked him heartily, kissed the money +politely, and told him I was not poor enough to want it and would give +it in his name to the poor of Luxor, but that I would never forget that +the Indian Sheykh had behaved like a brother to an English woman in +a strange land. He then spoke in great praise of the ‘laws +of the English,’ and said many more kind things to me, adding +again, ‘I tell thee thou art a Darweesh, and do not thou forget +me.’ Another Indian from Lahore, I believe the Sheykh’s +tailor, came to see me—an intelligent man, and a Syrian doctor; +a manifest scamp. The people here said he was a <i>bahlawar</i> +(rope-dancer). Well, the authorities detained the boat with fair +words till orders came from Keneh to let them go up further. Meanwhile +the Sheykh came out and performed some miracles, which I was not there +to see, perfuming people’s hands by touching them with his, and +taking English sovereigns out of a pocketless jacket, and the doctor +told wonders of him. Anyhow he spent £10 in one day here, +and he is a regular darweesh. He and all the Hareem were poorly +dressed and wore no ornaments whatever. I hope Seyd Abdurachman +will come down safe again, but no one knows what the Government wants +of him or why he is so watched. It is the first time I ever saw +an Oriental travelling for pleasure. He had about ten or twelve +in the hareem, among them his three little girls, and perhaps twenty +men outside, Indians, and Arabs from Syria, I fancy.</p> +<p>Next day I moved into the old house, and found one end in ruins, +owing to the high Nile and want of repair. However there is plenty +more safe and comfortable. I settled all accounts with my men, +and made an inventory in Arabic, which Sheykh Yussuf wrote for me, which +we laughed over hugely. How to express a sauce-boat, a pie-dish, +etc. in Arabic, was a poser. A genteel Effendi, who sat by, at +last burst out in uncontrollable amazement; ‘There is no God but +God: is it possible that four or five Franks can use all these things +to eat, drink and sleep on a journey?’ (N.B. I fear the +Franks will think the stock very scanty.) Whereupon master Achmet, +with the swagger of one who has seen cities and men, held forth. +‘Oh Effendim, that is nothing; Our Lady is almost like the children +of the Arabs. One dish or two, a piece of bread, a few dates, +and Peace, (as we say, there is an end of it). But thou shouldst +see the merchants of Escandarieh, (Alexandria), three tablecloths, forty +dishes, to each soul seven plates of all sorts, seven knives and seven +forks and seven spoons, large and small, and seven different glasses +for wine and beer and water.’ ‘It is the will of God,’ +replied the Effendi, rather put down: ‘but,’ he added, ‘it +must be a dreadful fatigue to them to eat their dinner.’ +Then came an impudent merchant who wanted to go down with his bales +and five souls in my boat for nothing. But I said, ‘Oh man, +she is my property, and I will eat from her of thy money as of the money +of the Franks.’ Whereupon he offered £1, but was bundled +out amid general reproaches for his avarice and want of shame. +So all the company said a <i>Fattah</i> for the success of the voyage, +and Reis Mohammed was exhorted to ‘open his eyes,’ and he +should have a tarboosh if he did well.</p> +<p>Then I went to visit my kind friend the Maohn’s wife, and tell +her all about her charming daughter and grandchildren. I was, +of course, an hour in the streets salaaming, etc. ‘<i>Sheerafteenee +Beledna</i>, thou hast honoured our country on all sides.’ +‘Blessings come with thee,’ etc.</p> +<p>Everything is cheaper than last year, but there is no money to buy +with, and the taxes have grown beyond bearing, as a fellah said, ‘a +man can’t (we will express it “blow his nose,” if +you please; the real phrase was less parliamentary, and expressive of +something at once <i>ventose</i> and valueless) without a cawass behind +him to levy a tax on it.’ The ha’porth of onions we +buy in the market is taxed on the spot, and the fish which the man catches +under my window. I paid a tax on buying charcoal, and another +on having it weighed. People are terribly beaten to get next year’s +taxes out of them, which they have not the money to pay.</p> +<p>The Nubian M.P.’s passed the other day in three boats, towed +by a steamer, very frightened and sullen. I fell in with some +Egyptians on my way, and tried the European style of talk. ‘Now +you will help to govern the country, what a fine thing for you,’ +etc. I got such a look of rueful reproach. ‘Laugh +not thou at our beards O Effendim! God’s mercy, what words +are these? and who is there on the banks of the Nile who can say anything +but <i>hader</i> (ready), with both hands on the head, and a salaam +to the ground even to a Moudir; and thou talkest of speaking before +Effendina! Art thou mad, Effendim?’ Of all the vexations +none are more trying than the distinctions which have been inflicted +on the unlucky Sheykhs el-Beled. In fear and trembling they ate +their Effendina’s banquet and sadly paid the bill: and those who +have had the <i>Nishan</i> (the order of the Mejeedee) have had to disburse +fees whereat the Lord Chamberlain’s staff’s mouths might +water, and now the wretched delegates to the Egyptian Chambers (God +save the mark) are going down with their hearts in their shoes. +The Nubians say that the Divan is to be held in the Citadel and that +the road by which the Memlook Beys left it is not stopped up, though +perhaps it goes underground nowadays. <a name="citation315"></a><a href="#footnote315">{315}</a></p> +<p><i>November</i> 27.—The first steamer full of travellers has +just arrived, and with it the bother of the ladies all wanting my saddle. +I forbade Mustapha to send for it, but they intimidate the poor old +fellow, and he comes and kisses my hand not to get him into trouble +with one old woman who says she is the relation of a Consul and a great +lady in her own country. I am what Mrs. Grote called ‘cake’ +enough to concede to Mustapha’s fears what I had sworn to refuse +henceforth. Last year five women on one steamer all sent for my +saddle, besides other things—campstools, umbrellas, beer, etc., +etc. This year I’ll bolt the doors when I see a steamer +coming. I hear the big people are so angry with the Indian saint +because he treated them like dirt everywhere. One great man went +with a Moudir to see him, and asked him to sell him a memlook (a young +slave boy). The Indian, who had not spoken or saluted, burst forth, +‘Be silent, thou wicked one! dost thou dare to ask me to sell +thee a soul to take it with thee to hell?’ Fancy the surprise +of the ‘distinguished’ Turk. Never had he heard such +language. The story has travelled all up the river and is of course +much enjoyed.</p> +<p>Last night Sheykh Yussuf gave an entertainment, killed a sheep, and +had a reading of the <i>Sirat er-Russoul</i> (Chapter on the Prophet). +It was the night of the Prophet’s great vision, and is a great +night in Islam. I was sorry not to be well enough to go. +Now that there is no Kadee here, Sheykh Yussuf has lots of business +to settle; and he came to me and said, ‘Expound to me the laws +of marriage and inheritance of the Christians, that I may do no wrong +in the affairs of the Copts, for they won’t go and be settled +by the priest out of the Gospels, and I can’t find any laws, except +about marriage in the Gospels.’ I set him up with the text +of the tribute money, and told him to judge according to his own laws, +for that Christians had no laws other than those of the country they +lived in. Poor Yussuf was sore perplexed about a divorce case. +I refused to ‘expound,’ and told him all the learned in +the law in England had not yet settled which text to follow.</p> +<p>Do you remember the German story of the lad who travelled <i>um das +Grüseln zu lernen</i>? Well, I, who never <i>grüselte</i> +before, had a touch of it a few evenings ago. I was sitting here +quietly drinking tea, and four or five men were present, when a cat +came to the door. I called ‘biss, biss,’ and offered +milk, but pussy, after looking at us, ran away. ‘Well dost +thou, oh Lady,’ said a quiet, sensible man, a merchant here, ‘to +be kind to the cat, for I dare say he gets little enough at home; <i>his</i> +father, poor man, cannot cook for his children every day.’ +And then in an explanatory tone to the company, ‘That is Alee +Nasseeree’s boy Yussuf—it must be Yussuf, because his fellow +twin Ismaeen is with his mule at Negadeh.’ <i>Mir grüselte</i>, +I confess, not but what I have heard things almost as absurd from gentlemen +and ladies in Europe; but an ‘extravagance’ in a <i>kuftan</i> +has quite a different effect from one in a tail coat. ‘What +my butcher’s boy who brings the meat—a cat?’ I gasped. +‘To be sure, and he knows well where to look for a bit of good +cookery, you see. All twins go out as cats at night if they go +to sleep hungry; and their own bodies lie at home like dead meanwhile, +but no one must touch them, or they would die. When they grow +up to ten or twelve they leave it off. Why your boy Achmet does +it. Oh Achmet! do you go out as a cat at night?’ ‘No,’ +said Achmet tranquilly, ‘I am not a twin—my sister’s +sons do.’ I inquired if people were not afraid of such cats. +‘No, there is no fear, they only eat a little of the cookery, +but if you beat them they will tell their parents next day, “So-and-so +beat me in his house last night,” and show their bruises. +No, they are not Afreets, they are <i>beni Adam</i> (sons of Adam), +only twins do it, and if you give them a sort of onion broth and camel’s +milk the first thing when they are born, they don’t do it at all.’ +Omar professed never to have heard of it, but I am sure he had, only +he dreads being laughed at. One of the American missionaries told +me something like it as belonging to the Copts, but it is entirely Egyptian, +and common to both religions. I asked several Copts who assured +me it was true, and told it just the same. Is it a remnant of +the doctrine of transmigration? However the notion fully accounts +for the horror the people feel at the idea of killing a cat.</p> +<p>A poor pilgrim from the black country was taken ill yesterday at +a village six miles from here, he could speak only a few words of Arabic +and begged to be carried to the Abab’deh. So the Sheykh +el-Beled put him on a donkey and sent him and his little boy, and laid +him in Sheykh Hassan’s house. He called for Hassan and begged +him to take care of the child, and to send him to an uncle somewhere +in Cairo. Hassan said, ‘Oh you will get well Inshallah, +etc., and take the boy with you.’ ‘I cannot take him +into the grave with me,’ said the black pilgrim. Well in +the night he died and the boy went to Hassan’s mat and said, ‘Oh +Hassan, my father is dead.’ So the two Sheykhs and several +men got up and went and sat with the boy till dawn, because he refused +to lie down or to leave his father’s corpse. At daybreak +he said, ‘Take me now and sell me, and buy new cloth to dress +my father for the tomb.’ All the Abab’deh cried when +they heard it, and Hassan went and bought the cloth, and some sweet +stuff for the boy who remains with him. Such is death on the road +in Egypt. I tell it as Hassan’s slave told it to me, and +somehow we all cried again at the poor little boy rising from his dead +father’s side to say, ‘Come now sell me to dress my father +for the tomb.’ These strange black pilgrims always interest +me. Many take four years to Mecca and home, and have children +born to them on the road, and learn a few words of Arabic.</p> +<h3>December 5, 1866: Mrs. Ross</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Ross</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>December</i> 5, 1866.</p> +<p>Dearest Janet,</p> +<p>I write in answer to yours by the steamer, to go down by the same. +I fancy I should be quite of your mind about Italy. I hate the +return of Europe to</p> +<blockquote><p>‘The good old rule and ancient plan,<br /> +That he should take who has the power,<br /> +And he should keep who can.’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Nor can I be bullied into looking on ‘might’ as ‘right.’ +Many thanks for the papers, I am anxious to hear about the Candia business. +All my neighbours are sick at heart. The black boy Palgrave left +with me is a very good lad, only he can’t keep his clothes clean, +never having been subject to that annoyance before. He has begun +to be affectionate ever since I did not beat him for breaking my only +looking-glass. I wish an absurd respect for public opinion did +not compel him to wear a blue shirt and a tarboosh (his suit), I see +it is misery to him. He is a very gentle cannibal.</p> +<p>I have been very unwell indeed and still am extremely weak, but I +hope I am on the mend. A eunuch here who is a holy man tells me +he saw my boat coming up heavily laden in his sleep, which indicates +a ‘good let.’ I hope my reverend friend is right. +If you sell any of your things when you leave Egypt let me have some +blankets for the boat; if she is let to a friendly dragoman he will +supply all deficiencies out of his own canteen, but if to one ‘who +knows not Joseph’ I fear many things will be demanded by rightminded +British travellers, which must be left to the Reis’s discretion +to buy for them. I hope all the <i>fattahs</i> said for the success +of the ‘Urania’s’ voyage will produce a due effect. +Here we rely a good deal on the favour of Abu-l-Hajjaj in such matters. +The <i>naïveté</i> with which people pray here for money +is very amusing—though really I don’t know why one shouldn’t +ask for one’s daily sixpence as well as one’s daily bread.</p> +<p>An idiot of a woman has written to me to get her a place as governess +in an ‘European or Arabian family in the neighbourhood of Thebes!’ +Considering she has been six years in Egypt as she says, she must be +well fitted to teach. She had better learn to make <i>gilleh</i> +and spin wool. The young Americans whom Mr. Hale sent were very +nice. The Yankees are always the best bred and best educated travellers +that I see here.</p> +<h3>December 31, 1886: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>December</i> 31, 1886.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I meant to have sent you a long yarn by a steamer which went the +other day, but I have been in my bed. The weather set in colder +than I ever felt it here, and I have been very unwell for some time. +Dr. Osman Ibraheem (a friend of mine, an elderly man who studied in +Paris in Mohammed Ali’s time) wants me to spend the summer up +here and take sand baths, <i>i.e</i>. bury myself up to the chin in +the hot sand, and to get a Dongola slave to rub me. A most fascinating +derweesh from Esneh gave me the same advice; he wanted me to go and +live near him at Esneh, and let him treat me. I wish you could +see Sheykh Seleem, he is a sort of remnant of the Memlook Beys—a +Circassian—who has inherited his master’s property up at +Esneh, and married his master’s daughter. The master was +one of the Beys, also a slave inheriting from his master. Well +after being a terrible <i>Shaitan</i> (devil) after drink, women, etc. +Seleem has repented and become a man of pilgrimage and prayer and perpetual +fasting; but he has retained the exquisite grace and charm of manner +which must have made him irresistible in his <i>shaitan</i> days, and +also the beautifully delicate style of dress—a dove-coloured cloth +<i>sibbeh</i> over a pale blue silk <i>kuftan</i>, a turban like a snow-drift, +under which flowed the silky fair hair and beard, and the dainty white +hands under the long muslin shirt sleeve made a picture; and such a +smile, and such ready graceful talk. Sheykh Yussuf brought him +to me as a sort of doctor, and also to try and convert me on one point. +Some Christians had made Yussuf quite miserable, by telling him of the +doctrine that all unbaptized infants went to eternal fire; and as he +knew that I had lost a child very young, it weighed on his mind that +perhaps I fretted about this, and so he said he could not refrain from +trying to convince me that God was not so cruel and unjust as the Nazarene +priests represented Him, and that all infants whatsoever, as well as +all ignorant persons, were to be saved. ‘Would that I could +take the cruel error out of the minds of all the hundreds and thousands +of poor Christian mothers who must be tortured by it,’ said he, +‘and let them understand that their dead babies are with Him who +sent and who took them.’ I own I did not resent this interference +with my orthodoxy, especially as it is the only one I ever knew Yussuf +attempt.</p> +<p>Dr. Osman is a lecturer in the Cairo school of medicine, a Shereef, +and eminently a gentleman. He came up in the passenger steamer +and called on me and spent all his spare time with me. I liked +him better than the bewitching derweesh Seleem; he is so like my old +love Don Quixote. He was amazed and delighted at what he heard +here about me. ‘<i>Ah Madame, on vous aime comme une sœur, +et on vous respecte comme une reine; cela rejouit le cœur des +honnêtes gens de voir tous les préjugés oubliés +et détruits à ce point</i>.’ We had no end +of talk. Osman is the only Arab I know who has read a good deal +of European literature and history and is able to draw comparisons. +He said, ‘<i>Vous seule dans toute l’Egypte connaissez le +peuple et comprenez ce qui se passe, tous les autres Européens +ne savent absolument rien que les dehors; il n’y a que vous qui +ayez inspiré la confiance qu’il faut pour connaître +la vénté</i>.’ Of course this is between ourselves, +I tell you, but I don’t want to boast of the kind thoughts people +have of me, simply because I am decently civil to them.</p> +<p>In Egypt we are eaten up with taxes; there is not a penny left to +anyone. The taxes for the whole year <i>eight months in advance</i> +have been levied, as far as they can be beaten out of the miserable +people. I saw one of the poor dancing girls the other day, (there +are three in Luxor) and she told me how cruel the new tax on them is. +It is left to the discretion of the official who farms it to make each +woman pay according to her presumed gains, <i>i.e</i>. her good looks, +and thus the poor women are exposed to all the caprices and extortions +of the police. This last new tax has excited more disgust than +any. ‘We now know the name of our ruler,’ said a fellah +who had just heard of it, ‘he is <i>Mawas</i> Pasha.’ +I won’t translate—but it is a terrible epithet when uttered +in a tone which gives it the true meaning, though in a general way the +commonest word of abuse to a donkey, or a boy, or any other cattle. +The wages of prostitution are unclean, and this tax renders all Government +salaries unlawful according to strict law. The capitation tax +too, which was remitted for three years on the pasha’s accession +to the people of Cairo, Alexandria, Damietta and Rascheed, is now called +for. Omar will have to pay about £8 back tax, which he had +fondly imagined himself excused from. You may conceive the distress +this must cause among artisans, etc., who have spent their money and +forgotten it, and feel cheated out of the blessings they then bestowed +on the Pasha—as to that they will take out the change in curses.</p> +<p>There was a meeting here the other day of the Kadee, Sheykh el-Beled, +and other notables to fix the amount of tax each man was to pay towards +the increased police tax; and the old Shereef at the end spoke up, and +said he had heard that one man had asked me to lend him money, and that +he hoped such a thing would not happen again. Everyone knew I +had had heavy expenses this year, and most likely had not much money; +that my heart was soft, and that as everyone was in distress it would +be ‘breaking my head,’ and in short that he should think +it unmanly if anyone tried to trouble a lone woman with his troubles. +I did offer one man £2 that he might not be forced to run away +to the desert, but he refused it and said, ‘I had better go at +once and rob out there, and not turn rogue towards thee—never +could I repay it.’ The people are running away in all directions.</p> +<p>When the Moolid of the Sheykh came the whole family Abu-l-Hajjaj +could only raise six hundred and twenty piastres among them to buy the +buffalo cow, which by custom—strong as the laws of the Medes and +Persians—must be killed for the strangers who come; and a buffalo +cow is worth one thousand piastres. So the stout old Shereef (aged +87) took his staff and the six hundred and twenty piastres, and sallied +forth to walk to Erment and see what God would send them; and a charitable +woman in Erment did give a buffalo cow for the six hundred and twenty +piastres, and he drove her home the twenty miles rejoicing.</p> +<p>There has been a burglary over at Gourneh, an unheard-of event. +Some men broke into the house of the Coptic <i>gabit</i> (tax-gatherer) +and stole the money-box containing about sixty purses—over £150. +The <i>gabit</i> came to me sick with the fright which gave him jaundice, +and about eight men are gone in chains to Keneh on suspicion. +Hajjee Baba too, a Turkish cawass, is awfully bilious; he says he is +‘sick from beating men, and it’s no use, you can’t +coin money on their backs and feet when they haven’t a para in +the world.’ Altogether everyone is gloomy, and many desperate. +I never saw the aspect of a population so changed.</p> +<p>January 1, 1867. God bless you, dearest Alick, and grant you +many good years more. I must finish this to go to-morrow by the +steamer. I would give a great deal to see you again, but when +will that be?</p> +<h3>January 12, 1867: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>January</i> 12, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>Only two days ago I received letters from you of the 17 September +and the 19 November. I wonder how many get lost and where? +Janet gives me hopes of a visit of a few days in March and promises +me a little terrier dog, whereat Omar is in raptures. I have made +no plans at all, never having felt well enough to hope to be able to +travel. The weather has changed for the better, and it is not +at all old now; we shall see what the warmth does for me. You +make my bowels yearn with your account of Rainie. If only we had +Prince Achmet’s carpet, and you could all come here for a few +months.</p> +<p>We were greatly excited here last week; a boy was shot out in the +sugar-cane field: he was with four Copts, and at first it looked ugly +for the Copts. But the Maohn tells me he is convinced they are +innocent, and that they only prevaricated from fear—it was robbers +shot the poor child. What struck and surprised me in the affair +was the excessive horror and consternation it produced; the Maōhn +had not had a murder in his district at all in eight years. The +market-place was thronged with wailing women, Omar was sick all day, +and the Maōhn pale and wretched. The horror of killing seems +greater here than ever I saw it. Palgrave says the same of the +Arabian Arabs in his book: it is not one’s notion of Oriental +feeling, but a murder in England is taken quite as a joke compared with +the scene here. I fear there will be robberies, owing to the distress, +and the numbers who are running away from the land unable to pay their +taxes. Don’t fear for me, for I have two watchmen in the +house every night—the regular guard and an amateur, a man whose +boy I took down to Cairo to study in Gama’l Azhar.</p> +<p>Palgrave has written to Ross wanting Mabrook back. I am very +sorry, the more so as Mabrook is recalcitrant. ‘I want to +stay with thee, I don’t want to go back to the Nazarene.’ +A boy who heard him said, ‘but the Lady is a Nazarene too;’ +whereupon Mabrook slapped his face with great vigour. He will +be troublesome if he does turn restive, and he is one who can only be +managed by kindness. He is as good and quiet as possible with +us, but the stubborn will is there and he is too ignorant to be reasoned +with.</p> +<p><i>January</i> 14.—To-day the four Copts have again changed +their story, and after swearing that the robbers were strangers, have +accused a man who has shot birds for me all this winter: and the poor +devil is gone to Keneh in chains. The weather seems to have set +in steadily for fine. I hope soon to get out, but my donkey has +grown old and shaky and I am too weak to walk, so I sit in the balcony.</p> +<h3>January 14, 1867: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>January</i> 14, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>We have had a very cold winter and I have been constantly ailing, +luckily the cough has transferred itself from the night to the day, +and I get some good sleep. The last two days have been much warmer +and I hope matters will mend. I am beginning to take cod-liver +oil, as we can’t find a milch camel anywhere.</p> +<p>My boat has been well let in Cairo and is expected here every day. +The gentlemen shoot, and tell the crew not to row, and in short take +it easy, and give them £2 in every place. Imagine what luxury +for my crew. I shall have to dismiss the lot, they will be so +spoilt. The English Consul-General came up in a steamer with Dr. +Patterson and Mr. Francis. I dined with them one day; I wish you +could have seen me carried in my armchair high up on the shoulders of +four men, like a successful candidate, or more like one of the Pharaohs +in an ancient bas-relief, preceded by torch bearers and other attendants +and followers, my procession was quite regal. I wish I could show +you a new friend of mine, Osman Ibraheem, who studied medicine five +years in Paris. My heart warmed to him directly, because like +most high-bred Arabs, he is so like Don Quixote—only Don Quixote +quite in his senses. The sort of innocent sententiousness, and +perfectly natural love of fine language and fine sentiments is unattainable +to any European, except, I suppose, a Spaniard. It is quite unlike +Italian fustian or French <i>sentiment</i>. I suppose to most +Europeans it is ridiculous, but I used to cry when the carriers beat +the most noble of all knights, when I was a little girl and read Don +Quixote; and now I felt as it were like Sancho, when I listened to Osman +reciting bits of heroic poetry, or uttering ‘wise saws’ +and ‘modern instances,’ with the peculiar mixture of strong +sense of ‘exultation’ which stamps the great Don. +I may not repeat all I heard from him of the state of things here, and +the insults he had to endure—a Shereef and an educated man—from +coarse Turkish Pashas; it was the carriers over again. He told +me he had often cried like a woman, at night in his own room, at the +miseries he was forced to witness and could do nothing to relieve; all +the men I have particularly liked I find are more or less pupils of +the Sheykh el-Bagooree now dead, who seems to have had a gift of inspiring +honourable feeling. Our good Maōhn is one; he is no conjuror, +but the honesty and goodness are heroic which lead a man to starve on +£15 a month, when he is expected to grow rich on plunder.</p> +<p>The war in Crete saddens many a household here. Sheykh Yussuf’s +brother, Sheykh Yooris, is serving there, and many more. People +are actually beginning to say ‘We hope the English and French +won’t fight for the Sultan if the Moscovites want to eat him—there +will be no good for us till the Turks are driven out.’ All +the old religious devotion to the Sultan seems quite gone.</p> +<p>Poor Mustapha has been very unwell and I stopped his Ramadan, gave +him some physic and ordered him not to fast, for which I think he is +rather grateful. The Imaam and Mufti always endorse my prohibitions +of fasting to my patients. Old Ismaeen is dead, aged over a hundred; +he served Belzoni, and when he grew doting was always wanting me to +go with him to join Belzoni at Abu Simbel. He was not at all ill—he +only went out like a candle. His grandson brought me a bit of +the meat cooked at his funeral, and begged me to eat it, that I might +live to be very old, according to the superstition here. When +they killed the buffalo for the Sheykh Abu-l-Hajjaj, the man who had +a right to the feet kindly gave them to Omar, who wanted to make calves’ +foot jelly for me. I had a sort of profane feeling, as if I were +eating a descendant of the bull Apis.</p> +<p>I am reading Mme. du Deffand’s letters. What a repulsive +picture of a woman. I don’t know which I dislike most, Horace +Walpole or herself: the conflict of selfishness, vanity and <i>ennui</i> +disguised as sentiment is quite hateful: to her Turgot was <i>un sot +animal</i>,—so much for her great gifts.</p> +<p>Remember me kindly to William and tell him how much I wish I could +see his ‘improvements,’ Omar also desires his salaam to +him, having a sort of fellow feeling for your faithful henchman. +I need not say he kisses your hand most dutifully.</p> +<h3>January 22, 1867: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>January</i> 22, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>The weather has been lovely, for the last week, and I am therefore +somewhat better. My boat arrived to-day, with all the men in high +good-humour, and Omar tells me all is in good order, only the people +in Cairo gave her the evil eye, and broke the iron part of the rudder +which had to be repaired at Benisouef. Mr. Lear has been here +the last few days, and is just going up to the second cataract; he has +done a little drawing of my house for you—a new view of it. +He is a pleasant man and I was glad to see him.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/ill328b.jpg"> +<img alt="Lady Duff Gordon, from oil portrait by Henry W. Phillips, about 1851" src="images/ill328s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>Such a queer fellow came here the other day—a tall stalwart +Holsteiner, I should think a man of fifty, who has been four years up +in the Soudan and Sennaar, and being penniless, had walked all through +Nubia begging his way. He was not the least ‘down upon his +luck’ and spoke with enthusiasm of the hospitality and kindness +of Sir Samuel Baker’s ‘tigers.’ <i>Ja, das sind +die rechten Kerls, dass ist das glückliche Leben</i>. His +account is that if you go with an armed party, the blacks naturally +show fight, as men with guns, in their eyes, are always slave hunters; +but if you go alone and poor, they kill an ox for you, unless you prefer +a sheep, give you a hut, and generally anything they have to offer, +<i>merissey</i> (beer) to make you as drunk as a lord, and young ladies +to pour it out for you—and—you need not wear any clothes. +If you had heard him you would have started for the interior at once. +I gave him a dinner and a bottle of common wine, which he emptied, and +a few shillings, and away he trudged merrily towards Cairo. I +wonder what the Nubians thought of a <i>howagah</i> begging. He +said they were all kind, and that he was sure he often ate what they +pinched themselves to give—dourrah bread and dates.</p> +<p>In the evening we were talking about this man’s stories, and +of ‘anthropophagi and men whose heads do grow’ to a prodigious +height, by means of an edifice woven of their own hair, and other queer +things, when Hassan told me a story which pleased me particularly. +‘My father,’ said he, ‘Sheykh Mohammed (who was a +taller and handsomer man than I am), was once travelling very far up +in the black country, and he and the men he was with had very little +to eat, and had killed nothing for many days; presently they heard a +sort of wailing from a hole in the rock, and some of the men went in +and dragged out a creature—I know not, and my father knew not, +whether a child of Adam or a beast. But it was like a very foul +and ill-shaped woman, and had six toes on its feet. The men wished +to slay it, according to the law declaring it to be a beast and lawful +food, but when it saw the knife, it cried sadly and covered its face +with its hands in terror, and my father said, ‘By the Most High +God, ye shall not slay the poor woman-beast which thus begs its life; +I tell you it is unlawful to eat one so like the children of Adam.’ +And the beast or woman clung to him and hid under his cloak; and my +father carried her for some time behind him on his horse, until they +saw some creatures like her, and then he sent her to them, but he had +to drive her from him by force, for she clung to him. Thinkest +thou oh Lady, it was really a beast, or some sort of the children of +Adam?’</p> +<p>‘God knows, and He only,’ said I piously, ‘but +by His indulgent name, thy father, oh Sheykh, was a true nobleman.’ +Sheykh Yussuf chimed in and gave a decided opinion that a creature able +to understand the sight of the knife and to act so, was not lawful to +kill for food. You see what a real Arab Don Quixote was. +It is a picture worthy of him,—the tall, noble-looking Abab’deh +sheltering the poor ‘woman-beast,’ most likely a gorilla +or chimpanzee, and carrying her <i>en croupe</i>.</p> +<h3>January 26, 1867: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>January</i> 26, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I must betray dear Sheykh Yussuf’s confidence, and tell you +his love story.</p> +<p>A young fellow ran away with a girl he loved a short time ago, she +having told him that her parents wanted to marry her to another, and +that she would go to such a spot for water, and he must come on a horse, +beat her and carry her off (the beating saves the maiden’s blushes). +Well, the lad did it, and carried her to Salamieh where they were married, +and then they went to Sheykh Yussuf to get him to conciliate the family, +which he did. He told me the affair, and I saw he sympathized +much with the runaways. ‘Ah,’ he said ‘Lady, +it is love, and that is terrible, I can tell thee love is dreadful indeed +to bear.’ Then he hesitated and blushed, and went on, ‘I +felt it once, Lady, it was the will of God that I should love her who +is now my wife. Thirteen years ago I loved her and wished to marry +her, but my father, and her grandfather my uncle the Shereef, had quarrelled, +and they took her and married her to another man. I never told +anyone of it, but my liver was burning and my heart ready to burst for +three years; but when I met her I fixed my eyes on the ground for fear +she should see my love, and I said to myself, Oh Yussuf, God has afflicted +thee, praise be unto Him, do thou remember thy blood (Shereef) and let +thy conduct be that of the Beni Azra who when they are thus afflicted +die rather than sin, for they have the strongest passion of love and +the greatest honour. And I did not die but went to Cairo to the +Gama el-Azhar and studied, and afterwards I married twice, as thou knowest, +but I never loved any but that one, and when my last wife died the husband +of this one had just divorced her to take a younger and prettier one +and my father desired me then to take her, but I was half afraid not +knowing whether she would love me; but, Praise be to God I consented, +and behold, poor thing, she also had loved me in like manner.’ +I thought when I went to see her that she was unusually radiant with +new-married happiness, and she talked of ‘el-Sheykh’ with +singular pride and delight, and embraced me and called me ‘mother’ +most affectionately. Is it not a pretty piece of regular Arab +romance like Ghamem?</p> +<p>My boat has gone up to-day with two very nice Englishmen in her. +Their young Maltese dragoman, aged twenty-four, told me his father often +talked of ‘the Commissioners’ and all they had done, and +how things were changed in the island for the better. (1) Everything +spiritual and temporal has been done for the boat’s safety in +the Cataract—urgent letters to the Maōhn el Baudar, and him +of Assouan to see to the men, and plenty of prayers and vows to Abu-l-Hajjaj +on behalf of the ‘property of the Lady,’ or <i>kurzweg</i> +‘our boat’ as she is commonly called in Luxor.</p> +<p>Here we have the other side of the misery of the Candian business; +in Europe, of course, the obvious thing is the sufferings of the Cretans, +but really I am more sorry for the poor fellah lads who are dragged +away to fight in a quarrel they had no hand in raising, and with which +they have no sympathy. The <i>Times</i> suggests that the Sultan +should relinquish the island, and that has been said in many an Egyptian +hut long before. The Sultan is worn out, and the Muslims here +know it, and say it would be the best day for the Arabs if he were driven +out; that after all a Turk never was the true <i>Ameer el-Moomeneen</i> +(Commander of the Faithful). Only in Europe people talk and write +as if it were all Muslim <i>versus</i> Christian, and the Christians +were all oppressed, and the Muslims all oppressors. I wish they +could see the domineering of the Greeks and Maltese as Christians. +The Englishman domineers as a free man and a Briton, which is different, +and that is the reason why the Arabs wish for English rule, and would +dread that of Eastern Christians. Well they may; for if ever the +Greeks do reign in Stamboul the sufferings of the Muslims will satisfy +the most eager fanatic that ever cursed Mahound. I know nothing +of Turkey, but I have seen and heard enough to know that there are plenty +of other divisions besides that of Christian and Muslim. Here +in Egypt it is clear enough: it is Arab <i>versus</i> Turk and the Copt +siding with the stronger for his interest, while he rather sympathizes +with his brother fellah. At all events the Copt don’t want +other Christians to get power; he would far rather have a Muslim than +a heretic ruler, above all the hated Greek. The Englishman he +looks on as a variety of Muslim—a man who washes, has no pictures +in his church, who has married bishops, and above all, who does not +fast from all that has life for half the year, and this heresy is so +extreme as not to give offence, unless he tries to convert.</p> +<p>The Pasha’s sons have just been up the river: they ordered +a reading of the Koran at the tomb of Abu-l-Hajjaj and gave every Alim +sixpence. We have not left off chaffing (as Maurice would say) +Sheykh Allah-ud-deen, the Muezzin, and sundry others on this superb +backsheesh, and one old Fikee never knows whether to laugh, to cry, +or to scold, when I ask to see the shawl and tarboosh he has bought +with the presents of Pashas. Yussuf and the Kadee too had been +called on to contribute baskets of bread to the steamer so that their +sixpences were particularly absurd.</p> +<p>The little boy whose father died is still with the Abab’deh, +who will not let him travel to Cairo till the weather is warmer and +they find a safe person to be kind to him. Rachmeh says ‘Please +God, he will go with the Sitt, perhaps.’ Hassan has consoled +him with sugar-cane and indulgence, and if I lose Mabrook, and the little +boy takes to me, he may fall into my hands as Achmet has done. +I hear he is a good boy but a perfect savage; that however, I find makes +no difference—in fact, I think they learn faster than those who +have ways of their own. So I see Terence was a nigger! I +would tell Rachmeh so if I could make him understand who Terence was, +and that he, Rachmeh, stood in need of any encouragement, but the worthy +fellow never imagines that his skin is in any way inferior to mine.</p> +<h3>February 3, 1867: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>February</i> 3, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>The boat goes down to-morrow and I have little to add to Mutter’s +letter, only that I am better.</p> +<p>There is a man here from Girgeh, who says he is married to a Ginneeyeh +(fairy) princess. I have asked to be presented to her, but I suspect +there will be some hitch about it. It will be like Alexis’s +<i>Allez, Madame, vous êtes trop incrédule</i>. <a name="citation334"></a><a href="#footnote334">{334}</a> +The unintelligible thing is the motive which prompts wonders and miracles +here, seeing that the wonder workers do not get any money by it; and +indeed, very often give, like the Indian saint I told you of who gave +me four dollars. His miracles were all gratis, which was the most +miraculous thing of all in a saint. I am promised that the Ginneeyeh +shall come through the wall. If she should do so I shall be compelled +to believe in her, as there are no mechanical contrivances in Luxor. +All the Hareem here believe it, and the man’s human wife swears +she waits on her like a slave, and backs her husband’s lie or +delusion fully. I have not seen the man, but I should not wonder +if it were a delusion—real <i>bona fide</i> visions and revelations +are so common, and I think there is but little downright imposture. +Meanwhile familiarity breeds contempt. Jinns, Afreets and Shaitans +inspire far less respect than the stupidest ghost at home, and the devil +(Iblees) is reduced to deplorable insignificance. He is never +mentioned in the pulpit, or in religious conversation, with the respect +he enjoys in Christian countries. I suppose we may console ourselves +with the hope that he will pay off the Muslims for their neglect of +him hereafter.</p> +<p>I cannot describe to you the misery here now, indeed it is wearisome +even to think of: every day some new tax. Now every beast; camel, +cow, sheep, donkey, horse, is made to pay. The fellaheen can no +longer eat bread, they are living on barley meal, mixed with water and +new green stuff, vetches etc., which to people used to good food is +terrible, and I see all my acquaintances growing seedy and ragged and +anxious. Yussuf is clear of debt, his religion having kept him +from borrowing, but he wants to sell his little slave girl, and has +sold his donkey, and he is the best off. The taxation makes life +almost impossible—100 piastres per feddan, a tax on every crop, +on every annual fruit, and again when it is sold in the market; on every +man, on charcoal, on butter, on salt, on the dancing girls. I +wonder I am not tormented for money—not above three people have +tried to beg or borrow.</p> +<p>Thanks for the Westminster epilogue; it always amuses me much. +So Terence was a nigger. There is no trace of the negro ‘boy’ +in his Davus. My nigger has grown huge, and has developed a voice +of thunder. He is of the elephantine rather than the tiger species, +a very mild young savage. I shall be sorry when Palgrave takes +him. I am tempted to buy Yussuf’s nice little Dinka girl +to replace him, only a girl is such an impossibility where there is +no regular hareem. In the boat Achmet is enough under Omar; but +in this large dusty house, and with errands to run, and comers and goers +to look after, pipes and coffee and the like, it takes two boys to be +comfortable. Mabrook too washes very well. It is surprising +how fast the boys learn, and how well they do their work. Achmet, +who is quite little, would be a perfectly sufficient servant for a man +alone; he can cook, wash, clean the rooms, make the beds, do all the +table service, knife and plate cleaning, all fairly well, and I believe +now he would get along even without Omar’s orders. Mabrook +is slower, but he has the same merit our poor Hassan had, <a name="citation336"></a><a href="#footnote336">{336}</a> +he never forgets what he has been once told to do, and he is clean in +his work, though hopelessly dirty as to his clothes. He cannot +get used to them, and takes a roll in the dust, or leans against a dirty +wall, oblivious of his clean-washed blue shirt. Achmet is quicker +and more careless, but they both are good boys and very fond of Omar. +‘Uncle Omar’ is the form of address, though he scolds them +pretty severely if they misbehave; and I observe that the high jinks +take place chiefly when only I am in the way, and Omar gone to market +or to the mosque. The little rogues have found out that their +laughing does not ‘affect my nerves,’ and I am often treated +to a share in the joke. How I wish Rainie could see the children: +they would amuse her. Yussuf’s girl, ‘Meer en Nezzil,’ +is a charming child, and very clever; her emphatic way of explaining +everything to me, and her gestures, would delight you. Her cousin +and future husband, age five (she is six), broke the doll which I had +given her, and her description of it was most dramatic, ending with +a wheedling glance at the cupboard and ‘of course there are no +more dolls there; oh no, no more.’ She is a fine little +creature, far more Arab than fellaha; quite a <i>Shaitan</i>, her father +says. She came in full of making cakes for Bairam, and offered +her services; ‘Oh my aunt, if thou wantest anything I can work,’ +said she, tucking up her sleeves.</p> +<h3>March 6, 1867: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>March</i> 6, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>The warm weather has set in, and I am already as much the better +for it as usual. I had a slight attack, not nearly so bad as that +at Soden, but it lingered and I kept my bed as a measure of precaution. +Dear Yussuf was with me the evening I was attacked, and sat up all night +to give me my medicine every hour. At the prayer of dawn, an hour +and a half before sunrise, I heard his supplications for my life and +health, and for you and all my family; and I thought of what I had lately +read, how the Greeks massacred their own patriots because the Turks +had shown them mercy—a display of temper which I hope will enlighten +Western Christendom as to what the Muslims have to expect, if they (the +Western Christians) help the Eastern Christians to get the upper hand. +Yussuf was asking about a lady the other day who has turned Catholic. +‘Poor thing,’ said he, ‘the priests have drawn out +her brains through her ears, no doubt: but never fear, her heart is +good and her charity is great, and God will not deal hardly with those +who serve Him with their hearts, though it is sad she should bow down +before images. But look at thy slave Mabrook, can he understand +one hundredth part of the thoughts of thy mind? Never-the-less +he loves thee, and obeys thee with pleasure and alacrity; and wilt thou +punish him because he knows not all thy ways? And shall God, who +is so much higher above us as thou art above thy slave, be less just +than thou?’ I pinned him at once, and insisted on knowing +the orthodox belief; but he quoted the Koran and the decisions of the +Ulema to show that he stretched no point as far as Jews and Christians +are concerned, and even that idolaters are not to be condemned by man. +Yussuf wants me to write a short account of the faith from his dictation. +Would anyone publish it? It annoys him terribly to hear the Muslims +constantly accused of intolerance, and he is right—it is not true. +They show their conviction that their faith is the best in the world +with the same sort of naïveté that I have seen in very innocent +and ignorant English women; in fact, display a sort of religious conceit; +but it is not often bitter or <i>haineux</i>, however much they are +in earnest.</p> +<p>I am going to write to Palgrave and ask him to let me send another +boy or the money for Mabrook, who can’t endure the notion of leaving +me. Achmet, who was always hankering after the fleshpots of Alexandria, +got some people belonging to the boats to promise to take him, and came +home and picked a quarrel and departed. Poor little chap; the +Sheykh el-Beled ‘put a spoke in his wheel’ by informing +him he would be wanted for the Pasha’s works and must stay in +his own place. Since he went Mabrook has come out wonderfully +and does his own work and Achmet’s with the greatest satisfaction. +He tells me he likes it best so; he likes to be quiet. He just +suits me and I him, it is humiliating to find how much more I am to +the taste of savages than of the ‘polite circles.’</p> +<p>The old lady of the Maōhn proposed to come to me, but I would +not let her leave her home, which would be quite an adventure to her. +I knew she would be exclamatory, and lament over me, and say every minute, +‘Oh my liver. Oh my eyes! The name of God be upon +thee, and never mind! to-morrow please God, thou wilt be quite well,’ +and so forth. People send me such odd dishes, some very good. +Yussuf’s wife packed two calves’ feet tight in a little +black earthern pan, with a seasoning of herbs, and baked it in the bread +oven, and the result was excellent. Also she made me a sort of +small macaroni, extremely good. Now too we can get milk again, +and Omar makes <i>kishta</i>, alias clotted cream.</p> +<p>Do send me a good edition of the ‘Arabian Nights’ in +Arabic, and I should much like to give Yussuf Lane’s Arabic dictionary. +He is very anxious to have it. I can’t read the ‘Arabian +Nights,’ but it is a favourite amusement to make one of the party +read aloud; a stray copy of ‘Kamar ez-Zeman and Sitt Boodoora’ +went all round Luxor, and was much coveted for the village <i>soirées</i>. +But its owner departed, and left us to mourn over the loss of his MSS.</p> +<p>I must tell you a black standard of respectability (it is quite equal +to the English one of the gig, or the ham for breakfast). I was +taking counsel with my friend Rachmeh, a negro, about Mabrook, and he +urged me to buy him of Palgrave, because he saw that the lad really +loved me. ‘Moreover,’ he said, ‘the boy is of +a respectable family, for he told me his mother wore a cow’s tail +down to her heels (that and a girdle to which the tail is fastened, +and a tiny leathern apron in front, constituted her whole wardrobe), +and that she beat him well when he told lies or stole his neighbours +eggs.’ Poor woman; I wish this abominable slave trade had +spared her and her boy. What folly it is to stop the Circassian +slave trade, if it is stopped, and to leave this. The Circassians +take their own children to market, as a way of providing for them handsomely, +and both boys and girls like being sold to the rich Turks; but the blacks +and Abyssinians fight hard for their own liberty and that of their cubs. +Mabrook swears that there were two Europeans in the party which attacked +his village and killed he knew not how many, and carried him and others +off. He was not stolen by Arabs, or by Barrabias, like Hassan, +but taken in war from his home by the seaside, a place called Bookee, +and carried in a ship to Jedda, and thence back to Koseir and Keneh, +where Palgrave bought him. I must say that once here the slaves +are happy and well off, but the waste of life and the misery caused +by the trade must be immense. The slaves are coming down the river +by hundreds every week, and are very cheap—twelve to twenty pounds +for a fine boy, and nine pounds and upwards for a girl. I heard +that the last <i>gellab</i> offered a woman and baby for anything anyone +would give for them, on account of the trouble of the baby. By-the-bye, +Mabrook displays the negro talent for babies. Now that Achmet +is gone, who scolded them and drove them out, Mohammed’s children, +quite babies, are for ever trotting after ‘Maboo,’ as they +pronounce his name, and he talks incessantly to them. It reminds +me so of Janet and poor Hassan, but Mabrook is not like Hassan, he is +one of the sons of Anak, and already as big and strong as a man, with +the most prodigious chest and limbs.</p> +<p>Don’t be at all uneasy about me as to care. Omar knows +exactly what to do as he showed the other day when I was taken ill. +I had shown him the medicines and given him instructions so I had not +even to speak, and if I were to be ill enough to want more help, Yussuf +would always sit up alternate nights; but it is not necessary. +Arabs make no grievance about broken rest; they don’t ‘go +to bed properly,’ but lie down half dressed, and have a happy +faculty of sleeping at odd times and anyhow, which enables them to wait +on one day and night, without distressing themselves as it distresses +us.</p> +<p><i>Thursday</i>.—A telegram has just come announcing that Janet +will leave Cairo to-morrow in a steamer, and therefore be here, Inshallah, +this day week. I enclose a note from a Copt boy, which will amuse +you. He is ‘sapping’ at English, and I teach him whenever +I am able. I am a special favourite with all the young lads; they +must not talk much before grown men, so they come and sit on the floor +round my feet, and ask questions and advice, and enjoy themselves amazingly. +Hobble-de-hoy-hood is very different here from what it is with us; they +care earlier for the affairs of the grown-up world, and are more curious +and more polished, but lack the fine animal gaiety of our boys. +The girls are much more <i>gamin</i> than the boys, and more romping +and joyous.</p> +<p>It is very warm now. I fear Janet will sigh terribly over the +heat. They have left their voyage too late for such as do not +love the Shems el-Kebeer (the big sun), which has just begun. +I who worship Ammun Ra, love to feel him in his glory. It is long +since I had any letters, I want so to hear how you all are.</p> +<h3>March 7, 1867: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<i>March</i> 7, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I have written a long yarn to Mutter and am rather tired, so I only +write to say I am much better. The heat has set in, and, of course +with it my health has mended, but I am a little shaky and afraid to +tire myself. Moreover I want to nurse up and be stronger by next +Thursday when Janet and Ross are expected.</p> +<p>What a queer old fish your Dublin antiquary is, who wants to whitewash +Miss Rhampsinitus, and to identify her with the beloved of Solomon (or +Saleem); my brain spun round as I read it. Must I answer him, +or will you? A dragoman gave me an old broken travelling arm-chair, +and Yussuf sat in an arm-chair for the first time in his life. +‘May the soul of the man who made it find a seat in Paradise,’ +was his exclamation, which strikes me as singularly appropriate on sitting +in a very comfortable armchair. Yussuf was thankful for small +mercies in this case.</p> +<p>I am afraid Janet may be bored by all the people’s civility; +they will insist on making great dinners and fantasias for her I am +sure. I hope they will go on to Assouan and take me with them; +the change will do me good, and I should like to see as much of her +as I can before she leaves Egypt for good.</p> +<p>The state of business here is curious. The last regulations +have stopped all money lending, and the prisons are full of Sheykh el-Beled +whose villages can’t pay the taxes. Most respectable men +have offered me to go partners with them now in their wheat, which will +be cut in six weeks, if only I would pay their present taxes, I to take +half the crop and half the taxes, with interest out of their half—some +such trifle as 30 per cent, per month. Our prison is full of men, +and we send them their dinner <i>à tour de rôle</i>. +The other day a woman went with a big wooden bowl on her head, full +of what she had cooked for them, accompanied by her husband. One +Khaleel Effendi, a new vakeel here, was there, and said, ‘What +dost thou ask here thou harlot?’ Her husband answered, ‘That +is no harlot, oh Effendim, but my wife.’ Whereupon he was +beaten till he fainted, and then there was a lamentation; they carried +him down past my house, with a crowd of women all shrieking like mad +creatures, especially his wife, who yelled and beat her head and threw +dust over it, <i>more majorum</i>, as you see in the tombs. The +humours of tax-gathering in this country are quite <i>impayable</i> +you perceive—and ought to be set forth on the escutcheon of the +new Knight of the Bath whom the Queen hath delighted to honour. +Cawass battant, Fellah rampant, and Fellaha pleurant would be the proper +blazon. Distress in England is terrible, but, at least, it is +not the result of extortion, as it is here, where everything from nature +is so abundant and glorious, and yet mankind so miserable. It +is not a little hunger, it is the cruel oppression which maddens the +people now. They never complained before, but now whole villages +are deserted. The boat goes to-morrow morning so I must say goodbye.</p> +<h3>April 12, 1867: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>April</i> 12, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I have just received your letters, including the one for Omar which +I read to him, and which he kissed and said he should keep as a <i>hegab</i> +(talisman). I have given him an order on Coutts’ correspondents +for the money, in case I die. Omar proposes to wait till we get +to Cairo and then to buy a little house, or a floor in one. I +am to keep all the money till the house is found, so he will in no way +be tempted to do anything foolish with it. I hope you approve?</p> +<p>Janet’s visit was quite an <i>Eed</i> (festival), as the people +said. When I got up on the morning she was expected, I found the +house decked with palm branches and lemon blossoms, and the holy flags +of Abu-l-Hajjaj waving over my balcony. The mosque people had +brought them, saying all the people were happy to-day, because it was +a fortunate day for me. I suppose if I had had a mind to <i>testify</i>, +I ought to have indignantly torn down the banners which bore the declaration, +‘There is no God but God, and Mohammed is His Prophet.’ +But it appeared to me that if Imaams and Muezzins could send their banners +to decorate a Christian house, the Christian might manage to endure +the kindness. Then there was fantasia on horseback, and all the +notables to meet the boat, and general welcome and jubilation. +Next day I went on with Henry and Janet in the steamer, and had a very +pleasant time to Assouan and back, and they stayed another day here, +and I hired a little dahabieh which they towed down to Keneh where they +stayed a day; after which Sheykh Yussuf and I sailed back again to Luxor. +As bad luck would have it we had hot weather just the week they were +up here: since then it has been quite cool.</p> +<p>Janet has left me her little black and tan terrier, a very nice little +dog, but I can’t hope to rival Omar in his affections. He +sleeps in Omar’s bosom, and Omar spoils and pets him all day, +and boasts to the people how the dog drinks tea and coffee and eats +dainty food, and the people say Mashallah! whereas I should have expected +them to curse the dog’s father. The other day a scrupulous +person drew back with an air of alarm from Bob’s approach, whereupon +the dog stared at him, and forthwith plunged into Sheykh Yussuf’s +lap, from which stronghold he ‘yapped’ defiance at whoever +should object to him. I never laughed more heartily, and Yussuf +went into <i>fou rire</i>. The mouth of the dog only is unclean, +and Yussuf declares he is a very well-educated dog, and does not attempt +to lick; he pets him accordingly, and gives him tea in his own saucer, +only <i>not</i> in the cup.</p> +<p>I am to inherit another little blackie from Ross’s agency at +Keneh: the funniest little chap. I cannot think why I go on expecting +so-called savages to be different from other people. Mabrook’s +simple talk about his village, and the animals and the victuals; and +how the men of a neighbouring village stole him in order to sell him +for a gun (the price of a gun is a boy), but were prevented by a razzia +of Turks, etc. who killed the first aggressors and took all the children—all +this he tells just as an English boy might tell of bird-nesting—delights +me. He has the same general notion of right and wrong; and yet +his tribe know neither bread nor any sort of clothes, nor cheese nor +butter, nor even drink milk, nor the African beer; and it always rains +there, and is always deadly cold at night, so that without a fire they +would die. They have two products of civilization—guns and +tobacco, for which they pay in boys and girls, whom they steal. +I wonder where the country is, it is called Sowaghli, and the next people +are Mueseh, on the sea-coast, and it is not so hot as Egypt. It +must be in the southern hemisphere. The new <i>négrillon</i> +is from Darfoor. Won’t Maurice be amused by his attendants, +the Darfoor boy will trot after him, as he can shoot and clean guns, +tiny as he is Maurice seems to wish to come and I hope Alexander will +let him spend the winter here, and I will take him up to the second +Cataract; I really think he would enjoy it.</p> +<p>My boat will not return I think for another six weeks. Mr. +Eaton and Mr. Baird were such nice people! their dragoman, a Maltese, +appeared to hate the Italians with ferocity. He said all decent +people in Malta would ten times rather belong to the Mahommedans than +to the Italians—after all blood tells. He was a very respectable +young man, and being a dragoman and the son of a dragoman, he has seen +the world, and particularly the Muslims. I suppose it is the Pope +that makes the Italians so hateful to them.</p> +<p>The post here is dreadful, I would not mind their reading one’s +letters if they would only send them on. Omar begs we to say that +he and his children will pray for you all his life, please God, not +for the money only but still more for the good words and the trusting +him. But he says, ‘I can’t say much <i>politikeh</i>, +Please God she shall see, only I kiss her hand now.’ You +will hear from Janet about her excursion. What I liked best was +shooting the Cataract in a small boat; it was fine fantasia.</p> +<h3>April 19, 1867: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>April</i> 19, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I have been much amused lately by a new acquaintance, who, in romances +of the last century, would be called an ‘Arabian sage.’ +Sheykh Abdurrachman lives in a village half a day’s journey off, +and came over to visit me and to doctor me according to the science +of Galen and Avicenna. Fancy a tall, thin, graceful man, with +a grey beard and liquid eyes, absorbed in studies of the obsolete kind, +a doctor of theology, law, medicine and astronomy. We spent three +days in arguing and questioning; I consented to swallow a potion or +two which he made up before me, of very innocent materials. My +friend is neither a quack nor superstitious, and two hundred years ago +would have been a better physician than most in Europe. Indeed +I would rather swallow his physic now than that of many a M.D. +I found him like all the learned theologians I have known, extremely +liberal and tolerant. You can conceive nothing more interesting +and curious than the conversation of a man learned and intelligent, +and utterly ignorant of all our modern Western science. If I was +pleased with him, he was enchanted with me, and swore by God that I +was a Mufti indeed, and that a man could nowhere spend time so delightfully +as in conversation with me. He said he had been acquainted with +two or three Englishmen who had pleased him much, but that if all Englishwomen +were like me the power must necessarily be in our hands, for that my +<i>akl</i> (brain, intellect) was far above that of the men he had known. +He objected to our medicine that it seemed to consist in palliatives, +which he rather scorned, and aimed always at a radical cure. I +told him that if he had studied anatomy he would know that radical cures +were difficult of performance, and he ended by lamenting his ignorance +of English or some European language, and that he had not learned our +<i>Ilm</i> (science) also. Then we plunged into sympathies, mystic +numbers, and the occult virtues of stones, etc., and I swallowed my +mixture (consisting of liquorice, cummin and soda) just as the sun entered +a particular house, and the moon was in some favourable aspect. +He praised to me his friend, a learned Jew of Cairo. I could have +fancied myself listening to Abu Suleyman of Cordova, in the days when +we were the barbarians and the Arabs were the learned race. There +is something very winning in the gentle, dignified manners of all the +men of learning I have seen here, and their homely dress and habits +make it still more striking. I longed to photograph my Sheykh +as he sat on the divan pulling MSS. out of his bosom to read me the +words of <i>El-Hakeem Lokman</i>, or to overwhelm me with the authority +of some physician whose very name I had never heard.</p> +<p>The hand of the Government is awfully heavy upon us. All this +week the people have been working night and day cutting their unripe +corn, because three hundred and ten men are to go to-morrow to work +on the railroad below Siout. This green corn is, of course, valueless +to sell and unwholesome to eat; so the magnificent harvest of this year +is turned to bitterness at the last moment. From a neighbouring +village all the men are gone, and seven more are wanted to make up the +<i>corvée</i>. The population of Luxor is 1,000 males of +all ages, so you can guess how many strong men are left after three +hundred and ten are taken.</p> +<p>I don’t like to think too much about seeing you and Maurice +next winter for fear I should be disappointed. If I am too sick +and wretched I can hardly wish you to come because I know what a nuisance +it is to be with one always coughing and panting, and unable to do like +other people. But if I pick up tolerably this summer I shall indeed +be glad to see you and him once more.</p> +<p>This house is falling sadly to decay, which produces snakes and scorpions. +I sent for the <i>hawee</i> (snake-catcher) who caught a snake, but +who can’t conjure the scorpions out of their holes. One +of my fat turkeys has just fallen a victim, and I am in constant fear +for little Bob, only he is always in Omar’s arms. I think +I described to you the festival of Sheykh Gibrieel: the dinner, and +the poets who improvised; this year I had a fine piece of declamation +in my honour. A real calamity is the loss of our good Maōhn, +Seleem Effendi. The Mudir hailed him from his steamer to go to +Keneh directly, with no further notice. We hoped some good luck +for him, and so it would have been to a Turk. He is made overseer +over the poor people at the railway work, and only gets two pounds five +shillings per month additional, he has to keep a horse and a donkey, +and to buy them and to hire a sais, and he does <i>not</i> know how +to squeeze the fellaheen. It is true ‘however close you +skin an onion, a clever man can always peel it again,’ which means +that even the poorest devils at the works can be beaten into giving +a little more; but our dear Seleem, God bless him, will be ruined and +made miserable by his promotion. I had a very woeful letter from +him yesterday.</p> +<h3>May 15, 1867: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>May</i> 15, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>All the Christendom of Upper Egypt is in a state of excitement, owing +to the arrival of the Patriarch of Cairo, who is now in Luxor. +My neighbour, Mikaeel, entertains him, and Omar has been busily decorating +his house and arranging the illumination of his garden, and to-day is +gone to cook the confectionery, he being looked upon as the person best +acquainted with the customs of the great. Last night the Patriarch +sent for me, and I went to kiss his hand, but I won’t go again. +It was a very droll caricature of the thunders of the Vatican. +Poor Mikaeel had planned that I was to dine with the Patriarch, and +had borrowed my silver spoons, etc., etc., in that belief. But +the representative of St. Mark is furious against the American missionaries +who have converted some twenty Copts at Koos, and he could not bring +himself to be decently civil to a Protestant. I found a coarse-looking +man seated on a raised divan smoking his chibouk, on his right were +some priests on a low divan; I went up and kissed his hand and was about +to sit by the priests, but he roughly ordered a cawass to put a wooden +chair <i>off the carpet</i> to his left, at a distance from him, and +told me to sit there. I looked round to see whether any of my +neighbours were present, and I saw the consternation in their faces +so, not wishing to annoy them, I did as if I did not perceive the affront, +and sat down and talked for half an hour to the priests, and then took +leave. I was informed that the Catholics were <i>naas mesakeen</i> +(poor inoffensive people), and that the Muslims at least were of an +old religion, but that the Protestants ate meat all the year round, +‘like dogs’—‘or Muslims,’ put in Omar, +who stood behind my chair and did not relish the mention of dogs and +the ‘English religion’ in one sentence. As I went +the Patriarch called for dinner, it seems he had told Mikaeel he would +not eat with me. It is evidently ‘a judgment’ of a +most signal nature that I should be snubbed for the offences of missionaries, +but it has caused some ill blood; the Kadee and Sheykh Yussuf and the +rest, who all intended to do the civil to the Patriarch, now won’t +go near him on account of his rudeness to me. He has come up in +a steamer, at the Pasha’s expense, with a guard of cawasses, and, +of course, is loud in praise of the Government, though he failed in +getting the Moudir to send all the Protestants of Koos to the public +works, or the army.</p> +<p>From what he said before me about the Abyssinians, and still more, +from what he said to others about the English prisoners up there, I +am convinced that the place to put the screw on is the <i>Batrarchane</i> +(Patriarch’s palace) at Cairo, and that the priests are at the +bottom of that affair. <a name="citation350"></a><a href="#footnote350">{350}</a> +He boasted immensely of the obedience and piety of <i>El Habbesh</i> +(the Abyssinians).</p> +<p><i>Saturday</i>.—Yesterday I heard a little whispered grumbling +about the money demanded by the ‘Father.’ One of my +Copt neighbours was forced to sell me his whole provision of cooking +butter to pay his quota. This a little damps the exultation caused +by seeing him so honoured by the Effendina. One man who had heard +that he had called the American missionaries ‘beggars,’ +grumbled to me, ‘Ah yes, beggars, beggars, they didn’t beg +of me for money.’ I really do think that there must be something +in this dread of the Protestant movement. Evidently the Pasha +is backing up the Patriarch who keeps his church well apart from all +other Christians, and well under the thumb of the Turks. It was +pretty to hear the priests talk so politely of Islam, and curse the +Protestants so bitterly. We were very nearly having a row about +a woman, who formerly turned Moslimeh to get rid of an old blind Copt +husband who had been forced upon her, and was permitted to recant, I +suppose in order to get rid of the Muslim husband in his turn. +However he said, ‘I don’t care, she is the mother of my +two children, and whether she is Muslim or Christian she is my wife, +and I won’t divorce her, but I’ll send her to church as +much as she likes.’ Thereupon the priests of course dropped +the wrangle, much to the relief of Sheykh Yussuf, in whose house she +had taken up her quarters after leaving the church, and who was afraid +of being drawn into a dispute.</p> +<p>My new little Darfour boy is very funny and very intelligent. +I hope he will turn out well, he seems well disposed, though rather +lazy. Mabrook quarrelled with a boy belonging to the quarter close +to us about a bird, and both boys ran away. The Arab boy is missing +still I suppose, but Mabrook was brought back by force, swelling with +passion, and with his clothes most scripturally ‘rent.’ +He had regularly ‘run amuck.’ Sheykh Yussuf lectured +him on his insolence to the people of the quarter, and I wound up by +saying, ‘Oh my son! whither dost thou wish to go? I cannot +let thee wander about like a beggar, with torn clothes and no money, +that the police may take thee and put thee in the army; but say where +thou desirest to go, and we will talk about it with discretion.’ +It was at once borne in upon him that he did not want to go anywhere, +and he said, ‘I repent; I am but an ox, bring the courbash, beat +me, and let me go to finish cooking the Sitt’s dinner.’ +I remitted the beating, with a threat that if he bullied the neighbours +again he would get it at the police, and not from Omar’s very +inefficient arm. In half an hour he was as merry as ever. +It was a curious display of negro temper, and all about nothing at all. +As he stood before me, he looked quite grandly tragic; and swore he +only wanted to run outside and die; that was all.</p> +<p>I wish you could have heard (and understood) my <i>soirées, +au clair de la lune</i>, with Sheykh Yussuf and Sheykh Abdurrachman. +How Abdurrachman and I wrangled, and how Yussuf laughed, and egged us +on. Abdurrachman was wroth at my want of faith in physic generally, +as well as in particular, and said I talked like an infidel, for had +not God said, ‘I have made a medicine for every disease?’ +I said, ‘Yes, but He does not say that He has told the doctors +which it is; and meanwhile I say, <i>hekmet Allah</i>, (God will cure) +which can’t be called an infidel sentiment.’ Then +we got into alchemy, astrology, magic and the rest; and Yussuf vexed +his friend by telling gravely stories palpably absurd. Abdurrachman +intimated that he was laughing at <i>El-Ilm el-Muslimeen</i> (the science +of the Muslims), but Yussuf said, ‘What is the <i>Ilm el-Muslimeen</i>? +God has revealed religion through His prophets, and we can learn nothing +new on that point; but all other learning He has left to the intelligence +of men, and the Prophet Mohammed said, “All learning is from God, +even the learning of idolaters.” Why then should we Muslims +shut out the light, and want to remain ever like children? The +learning of the Franks is as lawful as any other.’ Abdurrachman +was too sensible a man to be able to dispute this, but it vexed him.</p> +<p>I am tired of telling all the <i>plackereien</i> of our poor people, +how three hundred and ten men were dragged off on Easter Monday with +their bread and tools, how in four days they were all sent back from +Keneh, because there were no orders about them, and made to <i>pay their +boat hire</i>. Then in five days they were sent for again. +Meanwhile the harvest was cut green, and the wheat is lying out unthreshed +to be devoured by birds and rats, and the men’s bread was wasted +and spoiled with the hauling in and out of boats. I am obliged +to send camels twenty miles for charcoal, because the Abab’deh +won’t bring it to market any more, the tax is too heavy. +Butter too we have to buy secretly, none comes into the market. +When I remember the lovely smiling landscape which I first beheld from +my windows, swarming with beasts and men, and look at the dreary waste +now, I feel the ‘foot of the Turk’ heavy indeed. Where +there were fifty donkeys there is but one; camels, horses, all are gone; +not only the horned cattle, even the dogs are more than decimated, and +the hawks and vultures seem to me fewer; mankind has no food to spare +for hangers-on. The donkeys are sold, the camels confiscated, +and the dogs dead (the one sole advantage). Meat is cheap, as +everyone must sell to pay taxes and no one has money to buy. I +am implored to take sheep and poultry for what I will give.</p> +<h3>May 23, 1867: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>May</i> 23, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I have only time for a few words by Giafar Pasha, who goes early +to-morrow morning. My boat arrived all right and brought your +tin box. The books and toys are very welcome. The latter +threw little Darfour into ecstasies, and he got into disgrace for ‘playing +with the Sitt’ instead of minding some business on hand. +I fear I shall spoil him, he is so extremely engaging and such a baby. +He is still changing his teeth, so cannot be more than eight; at first +I did not like him, and feared he was sullen, but it was the usual <i>khoss</i> +(fear), the word that is always in one’s ears, and now that is +gone, he is always coming hopping in to play with me. He is extremely +intelligent and has a pretty baby nigger face. The Darfour people +are, as you know, an independent and brave people, and by no means ‘savages.’ +I can’t help thinking how pleased Rainie would be with the child. +He asked me to give him the picture of the English Sultaneh out of the +<i>Illustrated London News</i>, and has pasted it inside the lid of +his box.</p> +<p>I am better as usual, since the hot weather has begun, the last six +days. I shall leave this in a week, I think, and Mustapha and +Yussuf will go with me to Cairo. Yussuf was quite enchanted with +your note to him; his eyes glistened, and he took an envelope to keep +it carefully. Omar said such a letter is like a <i>hegab</i> (amulet) +and Yussuf said, ‘Truly it is, and I could never have one with +more <i>baraka</i> (blessing) or more like the virtue which went out +of Jesus, if ever I wore one at all; I will never part with it.’</p> +<p>We had a very pretty festival for the Sheykh, whose tomb you have +a photograph of, and I spent a very pleasant evening with Sheykh Abd +el-Mootooal, who used to scowl at me, but now we are ‘like brothers.’ +I found him very clever, and better informed than any Arab I have met, +who is quite apart from all Franks. I was astonished to find that +he <i>abondait dans man sens</i> in my dispute with Sheykh Abdurrachman, +and said that it was the duty of Muslims to learn what they could from +us, and not to stick to the old routine.</p> +<p>On Sunday the Patriarch snubbed me, and would not eat with me, and +on Monday a <i>Walee</i> (saint) picked out tit-bits for me with his +own fingers, and went with me inside the tomb. The Patriarch has +made a blunder with his progress. He has come ostentatiously as +the <i>protegé</i> and <i>pronem</i> of the Pasha, and he has +‘eaten’ and beaten the fellaheen. The Copts of Luxor +have had to pay fifty pounds for the honour of his presence, besides +no end of sheep, poultry, butter, etc. If I were of a proselytising +mind I could make converts of several whose pockets and backs are smarting, +and the American missionaries will do it. Of course the Muslims +sympathize with the converts to a religion which has no ‘idols,’ +and no monks, and whose priests marry like other folk, so they are the +less afraid. I hear there are now fifty Protestants at Koos, and +the Patriarch was furious because he could not beat them. Omar +cooked a grand dinner for him last night for our neighbour Mikaeel, +and the eating was not over till two in the morning. Our Government +should manage to put the screw on him about our Abyssinian prisoners. +I dare not say who told me all he said, but he was a truthful man and +a Christian. The Patriarch answered me sharply when I asked about +the state of religion in Abyssinia that, ‘they were lovers of +the faith, and his obedient children.’ Whenever there is +mischief among the Copts, the priests are at the bottom of it. +If the Patriarch chose those people would be let go; and so it would +be but he hates all Europeans bitterly.</p> +<p>I should like to have the <i>Revue des Deux Mondes</i> of all things, +but I don’t know how it is to come here, or what the postage would +cost. They send nothing but letters above Cairo by post, as all +goes on men’s backs. ‘Inshallah! I am the bearer +of good news,’ cries the postman, as he flings the letter over +the wall. I am so glad of the chance of getting news to you quick +by Giafar Pasha, who came here like a gentleman, alone, without a retinue; +he is on his way from two years in the Soudan, where he was absolute +Pasha. He is very much liked and respected, and seems a very sensible +and agreeable man, quite unlike any Turkish big-wig I have seen. +Great potentate as he is, he made Yussuf Mustapha and Abdallah sit down, +and was extremely civil and simple in his manners.</p> +<h3>June 30, 1867: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Benisouef</span>,<br /> +<i>June</i> 30, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I write on the chance that this may go safe by post so that you may +not think me lost. I left Luxor on May 31, got to Siout (half-way) +in a week, and have ever since been battling with an unceasing furious +north and north-east wind. I feel like the much travelled Odysseus, +and have seen ‘villages and men,’ unlike him, however ‘my +companions’ have neither grumbled nor deserted, though it is a +bad business for them, having received their money at the rate of about +twenty days’ pay, for which they must take me to Cairo. +They have eaten all, and are now obliged to stop and make bread here, +but they are as good-humoured as if all were well. My fleet consisted +of my dahabieh, flag ship; tender, a <i>kyasseh</i> (cargo boat) for +my horse and sais, wherein were packed two extremely poor shrivelled +old widows, going to Cairo to see their sons, now in garrison there; +lots of hard bread, wheat, flour, jars of butter, onions and lentils +for all the lads of ‘my family’ studying at Gama’l +Azhar, besides in my box queer little stores of long hoarded money for +those <i>megowareen</i> (students of Gama’l Azhar). Don’t +you wish you could provide for Maurice with a sack of bread, a basket +of onions and one pound sixteen shillings?</p> +<p>The handsome brown Sheykh el-Arab, Hassan, wanted me to take him, +but I knew him to be a ‘fast’ man, and asked Yussuf how +I could avoid it without breaking the laws of hospitality, so my ‘father,’ +the old Shereef, told Hassan that he did not choose his daughter to +travel with a wine-bibber and a frequenter of loose company. Under +my convoy sailed two or three little boats with family parties. +One of these was very pretty, whose steersman was a charming little +fat girl of five years old. All these hoped to escape being caught +and worried by the way, by belonging to me, and they dropped off at +their several villages. I am tolerably well, better than when +I started, in spite of the wind.</p> +<p>Poor Reis Mohammed had a very bad attack of ophthalmia, and sat all +of a heap, groaning all day and night, and protesting ‘I am a +Muslim,’ equivalent to ‘God’s will be done.’ +At one place I was known, and had a lot of sick to see, and a civil +man killed a sheep and regaled us all with meat and <i>fateereh</i>. +The part of the river in which we were kept by the high wind is made +cheerful by the custom of the Hareem being just as free to mix with +men as Europeans, and I quite enjoyed the pretty girls’ faces, +and the gossip with the women who came to fill their water-jars and +peep in at the cabin windows, which, by the way, they always ask leave +to do. The Sheykh el-Hawara gave me two sheep which are in the +cargo-boat with four others—all presents—which Omar intends +you to eat at Cairo. The Sheykh is very anxious to give you an +entertainment at his palace, if you come up the river, with horse-riding, +feasting and dancing girls. In fact I am charged with many messages +to <i>el-Kebir</i> (the great master).</p> +<h3>July 8, 1867: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cairo</span>,<br /> +<i>July</i> 8, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I arrived to-day, after thirty-eight days’ voyage, one month +of ceaseless furious wind. My poor men had a hard pull down against +it. However I am feeling better than when I left Luxor.</p> +<p>Omar has just brought a whole cargo of your letters, the last of +the 26 June. Let me know your plans. If you can go up the +river I might send the boat beforehand to Minieh, so far there is a +railway now, which would break the neck of the tedious part of the voyage +for you if you are pressed for time. I must send this off at once +to catch early post to-morrow. Excuse haste, I write in all the +bustle of arrival.</p> +<h3>July 28, 1867: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Boulak</span>,<br /> +<i>July</i> 28, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>I know I can write nothing more sure to please you than that I am +a good deal better. It has been intensely hot, and the wind very +worrying, but my cough has greatly abated and I do not feel so weak +as I did. I am anchored here in the river at my old quarters, +and have not yet been ashore owing to the hot wind and the dust, which +of course are far less troublesome here on the river. I have seen +but very few people and have but one neighbour, in a boat anchored near +mine, a very bewitching Circassian, the former slave of a rich Pasha, +now married to a respectable dragoman, and staying in his boat for a +week or two. She is young and pretty, and very amiable, and we +visit each other often and get on very well indeed. She is a very +religious little lady, and was much relieved when I assured her it was +not part of my daily devotions to curse the Prophet, and revile the +noble Koran.</p> +<p>I am extremely glad that the English have given a hearty welcome +to the Ameer el-Moornemeen (Commander of the Faithful); it will have +an excellent effect in all Mussulman countries. A queer little +Indian from Delhi who had been converted to Islam, and spent four years +at Mecca acting as dragoman to his own countrymen, is now settled at +Karnac. I sent for him, and he carne shaking in his shoes. +I asked why he was afraid? ‘Oh, perhaps I was angry about +something, and he was my <i>rayah</i>, and I might have him beaten.’ +I cried out at him, ‘Ask pardon of God, O man. How could +I beat thee any more than thou couldst beat me? Have we not laws? +and art thou not my brother, and the <i>rayah</i> of our Queen, as I +am and no more?’ ‘Mashallah!’ exclaimed the +six or eight fellaheen who were waiting for physic, in prodigious admiration +and wonder; ‘and did we not tell thee that the face of the Sitt +brings good fortune and not calamity and stick?’ I found +the little Indian had been a hospital servant in Calcutta, and was practising +a little physic on his own account. So I gave him a few drugs +especially for bad eyes, which he knew a good deal about, and we became +very good friends; he was miserable when I left and would have liked +me to have taken him as a volunteer servant.</p> +<p>I have come to a curious honour. <i>Ich bin beim lebendigem +Leibe besungen</i>. Several parties of real Arabs came with their +sick on camels from the desert above Edfou. I asked at last what +brought them, and they told me that a <i>Shaer</i> (bard or poet) had +gone about singing my praises, as how the daughter of the English was +a flower on the heads of the Arabs, and those who were sick should go +and smell the perfume of the flower and rejoice in the brightness of +the light (<i>nooreen</i>)—my name. Rather a highflown way +of mentioning the ‘exhibition’ of a black dose. But +we don’t feel that a man makes a fool of himself here when he +is romantic in his talk even about an old woman.</p> +<p>It is no use to talk of the state of things here; all classes are +suffering terribly under the fearful taxation, the total ruin of the +fellaheen, and the destruction of trade brought about by this much extolled +Pasha. My grocer is half ruined by the ‘improvements’ +made a <i>l’instar de Paris</i>—long military straight roads +cut through the heart of Cairo. The owners are expropriated, and +there is an end of it. Only those who have half a house left are +to be pitied, because they are forced to build a new front to the street +on a Frankish model which renders it uninhabitable to them and unsaleable.</p> +<p>The river men are excited about the crews gone to Paris, for fear +they should be forcibly detained by the <i>Sultaneh Franzaweeh</i>, +I assured them that they will all come home safe and happy, with a good +backsheesh. Many of them think it a sort of degradation to be +taken for the Parisians to stare at like an anteeka, a word which here +means what our people call a ‘curiosity.’</p> +<p>I go on very well with my two boys. Mabrook washes very well +and acts as <i>marmiton</i>. Darfour is housemaid and waiter in +his very tiny way. He is only troublesome as being given to dirty +his clothes in an incredibly short time. His account of the school +system of Darfour is curious. How when the little boy has achieved +excellence he is carried home in triumph to his father’s house, +who makes a festival for the master and boys. I suppose you will +be surprised to hear that the Darfour ‘niggers’ can nearly +all read and write. Poor little Darfour apologised to me for his +ignorance, he was stolen he said, when he had only just begun to go +to school. I wish an English or French servant could hear the +instructions given by an Alim here to serving men. How he would +resent them! ‘When thou hast tired out thy back do not put +thy hand behind it (do not shirk the burden). Remember that thou +art not only to obey, but to please thy master, whose bread thou eatest;’ +and much more of the like. In short, a standard of religious obedience +and fidelity fit for the highest Catholic idea of the ‘religious +life.’ Upon the few who seek instruction it does have an +effect (I am sure that Omar looks on his service as a religious duty), +but of course they are few; and those who don’t seek it themselves +get none. It is curious how all children here are left utterly +without any religious instruction. I don’t know whether +it is in consequence of this that they grow up so very devout.</p> +<h3>July 29, 1867: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Boulak</span>,<br /> +<i>July</i> 29, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>Your letter has arrived to my great relief—only I fear you +are not at all well. About Maurice. If he wishes to see +the Nile let him come, but if he is only to be sent because of me, let +it alone. I know I am oppressive company now, and am apt, like +Mr. Wodehouse in ‘Emma,’ to say, ‘Let us all have +some gruel.’</p> +<p>We know nothing here of a prohibition of gunpowder, at this moment +some Europeans are popping away incessantly at Embabeh just opposite. +Evidently the Pasha wants to establish a right of search on the Nile. +That absurd speech about slaves he made in Paris shows that. With +3,000 in his hareem, several slave regiments, and lots of gangs on all +his sugar plantations, his impudence is wonderful. He is himself +the greatest living slave trader as well as owner. My lads are +afraid to go out alone for fear of being snapped up by cawasses and +taken to the army or the sugar works. You will be sorry to hear +that your stalwart friend Hassan has had fifty blows on each foot-sole, +and had to pay six pounds. He was taking two donkeys to Shepheard’s +hotel before sunrise for a French lady and gentleman to go to the Pyramids, +when a cawass met him, seized the donkeys, and on Hassan’s refusal +to give them up, spat on the side-saddle and reviled Hassan’s +own Hareem and began to beat him with his courbash. Hassan got +impatient, took the cawass up in his arms and threw him on the ground, +and went on. Presently four cawasses came after him, seized him +and took him to the Zaptieh (police office), where they all swore he +had beaten them, torn their clothes, and robbed one of an imaginary +gold watch—all valued at twenty-four pounds. After the beating +he was carried to prison in chains, and there sentenced to be a soldier. +A friend however interfered and settled the matter for six pounds. +Hassan sends you his best salaam.</p> +<p>Last night was very pretty—all the boats starting for the <i>moolid</i> +of Seyd el-Bedawee at Tanta. Every boat had a sort of pyramid +of lanterns, and the derweeshes chanted, and the worldly folks had profane +music and singing, and I sat and looked and listened, and thought how +many thousand years ago just the same thing was going on in honour of +Bubastis.</p> +<h3>August 7, 1867: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Boulak</span>,<br /> +<i>August</i> 7, 1867.</p> +<p>My Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>Two sailors of mine of last year went to Paris in the dahabieh for +the Empress, and are just come back. When I see them I expect +I shall have some fun out of their account of their journey. Poor +Adam’s father died of grief at his son’s going, nothing +would persuade him that Adam would come back safe, and having a heart +complaint, he died. And now the lad is back, well and with fine +clothes, but is much cut up, I hear, by his father’s death. +Please send me a tremendous whistle; mine is not loud enough to wake +Omar at the other end of the cabin; a boatswain’s whistle or something +in the line of the ‘last trump’ is needed to wake sleeping +Arabs.</p> +<p>My pretty neighbour has gone back into the town. She was a +nice little woman, and amused me a good deal. I see that a good +respectable Turkish hareem is an excellent school of useful accomplishments—needlework, +cookery, etc. But I observed that she did not care a bit for the +Pasha, by whom she had a child, but was extremely fond of ‘her +lady,’ as she politely called her, also that like every Circassian +I ever knew, she regarded being sold as quite a desirable fate, and +did not seem sorry for her parents, as the negroes always are.</p> +<p>The heat has been prodigious, but I am a good deal better. +Yesterday the Nile had risen above ten cubits, and the cutting of the +Kalig took place. The river is pretty full now, but they say it +will go down fast this year. I don’t know why. It +looks very beautiful, blood-red and tossed into waves by the north wind +fighting the rapid stream.</p> +<p>Good-bye dear Alick, I hope to hear a better account of your health +soon.</p> +<h3>August 8, 1867: Mrs. Austin</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Austin</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Boulak</span>,<br /> +<i>August</i> 8, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Mutter,</p> +<p>Two of my sailors were in Paris and have just come home. I +hear they are dreadfully shocked by the dancing, and by the French women +of the lower class generally. They sit in the coffee-shops like +<i>shaers</i> (poets), and tell of the wonders of Paris to admiring +crowds. They are enthusiastic about the courtesy of the French +police, who actually did not beat them when they got into a quarrel, +but scolded the Frankish man instead, and accompanied them back to the +boat quite politely. The novelty and triumph of not being beaten +was quite intoxicating. There is such a curious sight of a crowd +of men carrying huge blocks of stone up out of a boat. One sees +exactly how the stones were carried in ancient times; they sway their +bodies all together like one great lithe animal with many legs, and +hum a low chant to keep time. It is quite unlike any carrying +heavy weights in Europe.</p> +<p>It is getting dusk and too windy for candles, so I must say goodnight +and eat the dinner which Darfour has pressed upon me two or three times, +he is a pleasant little creature, so lively and so gentle. It +is washing day. I wish you could see Mabrook squatting out there, +lathering away at the clothes with his superb black arms. He is +a capital washer and a fair cook, but an utter savage.</p> +<p>[The foregoing letter reached England the day after the death of +my grandmother, Mrs. Austin, which was a great shock to my mother and +made her ill and unhappy; so it was settled that my brother Maurice +should go out and spend the winter with her on the Nile.]</p> +<h3>September 7, 1867: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Boulak</span>,<br /> +<i>September</i> 7, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>Many thanks for your letter and for all the trouble you have taken. +I wish you were better.</p> +<p>There is such a group all stitching away at the big new sail; Omar, +the Reis, two or three volunteers, some old sailors of mine, and little +Darfour. If I die I think you must have that tiny nigger over; +he is such a merry little soul, I am sure you would love him, he is +quite a civilized being and has a charming temper, and he seems very +small to be left alone in the world.</p> +<p>I hope Maurice is not of the faction of the <i>ennuyés</i> +of this generation. I am more and more of Omar’s opinion, +who said, with a pleased sigh, as we sat on the deck under some lovely +palm-trees in the bright moon-light, moored far from all human dwellings, +‘how sweet are the quiet places of the world.’</p> +<p>I wonder when Europe will drop the absurd delusion about Christians +being persecuted by Muslims. It is absolutely the other way,—here +at all events. The Christians know that they will always get backed +by some Consul or other, and it is the Muslims who go to the wall invariably. +The brute of a Patriarch is resolved to continue his persecution of +the converts, and I was urged the other day by a Sheykh to go to the +Sheykh ul-Islam himself and ask him to demand equal rights for all religions, +which is the law, on behalf of these Coptic Protestants. Everywhere +the Ulema have done what they could to protect them, even at Siout, +where the American missionaries had caused them (the Ulemas) a good +deal of annoyance on a former occasion. No one in Europe can conceive +how much the Copts have the upper hand in the villages. They are +backed by the Government, and they know that the Europeans will always +side with them.</p> +<p><i>September</i> 13.—Omar is crazy with delight at the idea +of Maurice’s arrival, and Reis Mohammed is planning what men to +take who can make fantasia, and not ask too much wages. Let me +know what boat Maurice comes by that I may send Omar to Alexandria to +meet him. Omar begs me to give you and Sitti Rainie his best salaam, +and his assurance that he will take great care of the young master and +‘keep him very tight.’ I think Maurice will be diverted +with small Darfour. Mabrook now really cooks very fairly under +Omar’s orders, but he is beyond belief uncouth, and utters the +wildest howls now that his voice is grown big and strong like himself. +Moreover he ‘won’t be spoken to,’ as our servants +say; but he is honest, clean, and careful. I should not have thought +any human creature could remain so completely a savage in a civilized +community. I rather respect his savage <i>hauteur</i>, especially +as it is combined with truth and honesty.</p> +<h3>October 17, 1867: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Boulak</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Boat </span><span class="smcap"><i>Marie Louise</i></span>,<br /> +<i>October</i> 17, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>You must not be wroth with me because I have not written for a long +time—I have been ill, but am much better. Omar will go down +to Alexandria to meet Maurice on Monday.</p> +<p>My boat is being painted, but is nearly finished; as soon as it is +done I shall move back into her. I got out into a little cangia +but it swarmed with bugs and wasps, and was too dirty, so I moved yesterday +into a good boat belonging to a dragoman, and hope to be back in my +own by Sunday. But oh Lord! I got hold of the Barber himself +turned painter; and as the little cangia was moored alongside the <i>Urania</i> +in order to hold all the mattresses, carpets, etc. I was his victim. +First, it was a request for ‘three pounds to buy paint.’ +‘None but the best of paint is fitting for a noble person like +thee, and that thou knowest is costly, and I am thy servant and would +do thee honour.’ ‘Very well,’ say I, ‘take +the money, and see, oh man, that the paint is of the best, or thy backsheesh +will be bad also.’ Well, he begins and then rushes in to +say: ‘Come oh Bey, oh Pasha! and behold the brilliancy of the +white paint, like milk, like glass, like the full moon.’ +I go and say, ‘Mashallah! but now be so good as to work fast, +for my son will be here in a few days, and nothing is ready.’ +Fatal remark. ‘Mashallah! Bismillah! may the Lord +spare him, may God prolong thy days, let me advise thee how to keep +the eye from him, for doubtless thy son is beautiful as a memlook of +1,000 purses. Remember to spit in his face when he comes on board, +and revile him aloud that all the people may hear thee, and compel him +to wear torn and dirty clothes when he goes out:—and how many +children hast thou, and our master, thy master, and is he well?’ +etc. etc. ‘<i>Shukr Allah</i>! all is well with us,’ +say I; ‘but, by the Prophet, paint, oh <i>Ma-alim</i> (exactly +the German <i>Meister</i>) and do not break my head any more.’ +But I was forced to take refuge at a distance from Hajj’ Alee’s +tongue. Read the story of the Barber, and you will know exactly +what Ma-alim Hajj’ Alee is. Also just as I got out of my +boat and he had begun, the painter whom I had last year and with whom +I was dissatisfied, went to the Sheykh of the painters and persuaded +him to put my man in prison for working too cheap—that was at +daybreak. So I sent up my Reis to the Sheykh to inform him that +if my man did not return by next day at daybreak, I would send for an +European painter and force the Sheykh to pay the bill. Of course +my man came.</p> +<p>My steersman Hassan, and a good man, Hoseyn, who can wash and is +generally nice and pleasant, arrived from el-Bastowee a few days ago, +and are waiting here till I want them. Poor little ugly black +Hassan has had his house burnt down in his village, and lost all the +clothes which he had bought with his wages; they were very good clothes, +some of them, and a heavy loss. He is my Reis’s brother, +and a good man, clean and careful and quiet, better than my Reis even—they +are a respectable family. Big stout Hazazin owes me 200 piastres +which he is to work out, so I have still five men and a boy to get. +I hope a nice boy, called Hederbee (the lizard), will come. They +don’t take pay till the day before we sail, except the Reis and +Abdul Sadig, who are permanent. But Hassan and Hoseyn are working +away as merrily as if they were paid. People growl at the backsheesh, +but they should also remember what a quantity of service one gets for +nothing here, and for which, oddly enough, no one dreams of asking backsheesh. +Once a week we shift the anchors, for fear of their silting over, and +six or eight men work for an hour; then the mast is lowered—twelve +or fourteen men work at this—and nobody gets a farthing.</p> +<p>The other day Omar met in the market an ‘agreeable merchant,’ +an Abyssinian fresh from his own country, which he had left because +of the tyranny of Kassa, alias Todoros, the Sultan. The merchant +had brought his wife and concubines to live here. His account +is that the mass of the people are delighted to hear that the English +are coming to conquer them, as they hope, and that everyone hates the +King except two or three hundred scamps who form his bodyguard. +He had seen the English prisoners, who, he says, are not ill-treated, +but certainly in danger, as the King is with difficulty restrained from +killing them by the said scamps, who fear the revenge of the English; +also that there is one woman imprisoned with the native female prisoners. +Hassan the donkeyboy, when he was a <i>marmiton</i> in Cairo, knew the +Sultan Todoros, he was the only man who could be found to interpret +between the then King of Abyssinia and Mohammed Ali Pasha, whom Todoros +had come to visit. The merchant also expressed a great contempt +for the Patriarch, and for their <i>Matraam</i> or Metropolitan, whom +the English papers call the <i>Abuna</i>. <i>Abuna</i> is Arabic +for ‘our father.’ The man is a Cairene Copt and was +a hanger-on of two English missionaries (they were really Germans) here, +and he is more than commonly a rascal and a hypocrite. I know +a respectable Jew whom he had robbed of all his merchandise, only Ras +Alee forced the <i>Matraam</i> to disgorge. Pray what was all +that nonsense about the Armenian Patriarch of Jerusalem writing to Todoros? +what could he have to do with it? The Coptic Patriarch, whose +place is Cairo, could do it if he were forced.</p> +<p>At last my boat is finished, so to-morrow Omar will clean the windows, +and on Saturday move in the cushions, etc. and me, and on Sunday go +to Alexandria. I hear the dreadful voice of Hajj’ Alee, +the painter, outside, and will retire before he gets to the cabin door, +for fear he should want to bore me again. I do hope Maurice will +enjoy his journey; everyone is anxious to please him. The Sheykh +of the Hawara sent his brother to remind me to stop at his ‘palace’ +near Girgeh, that he might make a fantasia for my son. So Maurice +will see real Arab riding, and jereed, and sheep roasted whole and all +the rest of it. The Sheykh is the last of the great Arab chieftains +of Egypt, and has thousands of fellaheen and a large income. He +did it for Lord Spencer and for the Duke of Rutland and I shall get +as good a fantasia, I have no doubt. Perhaps at Keneh Maurice +had better not see the dancing, for Zeyneb and Latefeeh are terribly +fascinating, they are such pleasant jolly girls as well as pretty and +graceful, but old Oum ez-Zeyn (mother of beauty), so-called on account +of his hideousness, will want us to eat his good dinner.</p> +<h3>October 21, 1867: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap"><i>Urania</i></span><span class="smcap">, Boulak</span>,<br /> +<i>October</i> 21, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>So many thanks for the boxes and their contents. My slaves +are enchanted with all that the ‘great master’ has sent. +Darfour hugged the horsecloth in ecstasy that he should never again +be cold at night. The waistcoats of printed stuff, and the red +flannel shirts are gone to be made up, so my boys will be like Pashas +this winter, as they told the Reis. He is awfully perturbed about +the evil eye. ‘Thy boat, <i>Mashallah</i>, is such as to +cause envy from all beholders; and now when they see a son with thee, +<i>Bismillah</i>! <i>Mashallah</i>! like a flower, verily. +I fear, I fear greatly from the eye of the people.’ We have +bought a tambourine and a tarabouka, and are on the look-out for a man +who can sing well, so as to have fantasia on board.</p> +<p><i>October</i> 22.—I hear to-day that the Pasha sent a telegram +<i>hochst eigenhändig</i> to Koos, in consequence whereof one Stefanos, +an old Copt of high character, many years in Government employ, was +put in chains and hurried off within twenty minutes to Fazoghlou with +two of his friends, for no other crime than having turned Presbyterian. +This is quite a new idea in Egypt, and we all wonder why the Pasha is +so anxious to ‘brush the coat’ of the Copt Patriarch. +We also hear that the people up in the Saaed are running away by wholesale, +utterly unable to pay the new taxes and to do the work exacted. +Even here the beating is fearful. My Reis has had to send all +his month’s wages to save his aunt and his sister-in-law, both +widows, from the courbash. He did not think so much of the blows, +but of the ‘shame’; ‘those are women, lone women, +from whence can they get the money?’</p> +<h3>November 3, 1867: Mrs. Ross</h3> +<p><i>To Mrs. Ross</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Boulak</span>,<br /> +<i>November</i> 3, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Janet,</p> +<p>Maurice arrived on Friday week, and is as happy as can be, he says +he never felt so well and never had such good snipe shooting. +Little Darfour’s amusement at Maurice is boundless; he grins at +him all the time he waits at table, he marvels at his dirty boots, at +his bathing, at his much walking out shooting, at his knowing no Arabic. +The dyke burst the other day up at Bahr Yussuf, and we were nearly all +swept away by the furious rush of water. My little boat was upset +while three men in her were securing the anchor, and two of them were +nearly drowned, though they swim like fish; all the dahabiehs were rattled +and pounded awfully; and in the middle of the <i>fracas</i>, at noonday, +a steamer ran into us quite deliberately. I was rather frightened +when the steamer bumped us, and carried away the iron supports of the +awning; and they cursed our fathers into the bargain, which I thought +needless. The English have fallen into such contempt here that +one no longer gets decent civility from anything in the <i>Miri</i> +(Government).</p> +<p>Olagnier has lent us a lovely little skiff, and I have had her repaired +and painted, so Maurice is set up for shooting and boating. Darfour +calls him the ‘son of a crocodile’ because he loves the +water, and generally delights in him hugely, and all my men are enchanted +with him.</p> +<h3>December 20, 1867: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>December</i> 20, 1867.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>We arrived here all safe three days ago. I think of starting +for Nubia directly after Christmas Day, which we must keep here. +We have lovely weather. Maurice is going with a friend of my friends, +a Bedawee, to shoot, I hope among the Abab’deh he will get some +gazelle shooting. I shall stop at Syaleh to visit the Sheykh’s +mother, and with them Maurice could go for some days into the desert. +As to crocodiles, Inshallah, we will eat their hearts, and not they +ours. You may rely on it that Maurice is ‘on the head and +in the eye’ of all my crew, and will not be allowed to bathe in +‘unclean places.’ Reis Mohammed stopped him at Gebel +Abu’l Foda. You would be delighted to see how different +he looks; all his clothes are too tight now. He says he is thoroughly +happy, and that he was never more amused than when with me, which I +think very flattering.</p> +<p>Half of the old house at Luxor fell down into the temple beneath +six days before I arrived; so there is an end of the <i>Maison de France</i>, +I suppose. It might be made very nice again at a small expense, +but I suppose the Consul will not do it, and certainly I shall not unless +I want it again. Nothing now remains solid but the three small +front rooms and the big hall with two rooms off it. All the part +I lived in is gone, and the steps, so one cannot get in. Luckily +Yussuf had told Mohammed to move my little furniture to the part which +is solid, having a misgiving of the rest. He has the most exquisite +baby, an exact minature of himself. He is in a manner my godson, +being named Noor ed-Deen Hishan Abu-l-Hajjaj, to be called <i>Noor</i> +like me.</p> +<h3>January, 1868: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">On Board the </span><span class="smcap"><i>Urania</i></span>,<br /> +<i>January</i>, 1868.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>Your letter of the 10 December most luckily came on to Edfoo by the +American Consul-General, who overtook us there in his steamer and gave +me a lunch. Maurice was as usual up to his knees in a distant +swamp trying to shoot wild geese. Now we are up close to Assouan, +and there are no more marshes; but <i>en revanche</i> there are quails +and <i>kata</i>, the beautiful little sand grouse. I eat all that +Maurice shoots, which I find very good for me; and as for Maurice he +has got back his old round boyish face; he eats like an ogre, walks +all day, sleeps like a top, bathes in the morning and has laid on flesh +so that his clothes won’t button. At Esneh we fell in with +handsome Hassan, who is now Sheykh of the Abab’deh, as his elder +brother died. He gave us a letter to his brother at Syaleh, up +in Nubia; ordering him to get up a gazelle hunt for Maurice, and I am +to visit his wife. I think it will be pleasant, as the Bedaween +women don’t veil or shut up, and to judge by the men ought to +be very handsome. Both Hassan and Abu Goord, who was with him, +preached the same sermon as my learned friend Abdurrachman had done +at Luxor. ‘Why, in God’s name, I left my son without +a wife?’ They are sincerely shocked at such indifference +to a son’s happiness.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Assouan</span>,<br /> +10 <i>Ramadan</i>.</p> +<p>I have no almanach, but you will be able to know the date by your +own red pocketbook, which determined the beginning of Ramadan at Luxor +this year. They received a telegram fixing it for Thursday, but +Sheykh Yussuf said that he was sure the astronomers in London knew best, +and made it Friday. To-morrow we shall make our bargain, and next +day go up the Cataract—Inshallah, in safety. The water is +very good, as Jesus the black pilot tells me. He goes to the second +Cataract and back, as I intend to stay nearly two months in Nubia. +The weather here is perfect now, we have been lucky in having a lovely +mild winter hitherto. We are very comfortable with a capital crew, +who are all devoted to Maurice. The Sheykh of the Abab’deh +has promised to join us if he can, when he has convoyed some 400 Bashibazouks +up to Wady Halfa, who are being sent up because the English are in Abyssinia.</p> +<h3>April, 1868: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Luxor</span>,<br /> +<i>April</i>, 1868.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I have been too weak to write, but the heat set in three days ago +and took away my cough, and I feel much better. Maurice also flourishes +in the broil, and protests against moving yet. He speaks a good +deal of Arabic and is friends with everyone. It is <i>Salaam aleykoum +ya maris</i> on all sides. A Belgian has died here, and his two +slaves, a very nice black boy and an Abyssinian girl, got my little +varlet, Darfour, to coax me to take them under my protection, which +I have done, as there appeared a strong probability that they would +be ‘annexed’ by a rascally Copt who is a Consular agent +at Keneh. I believe the Belgian has left money for them, which +of course they would never get without someone to look after it, and +so I have Ramadan, the boy, with me, and shall take the girl when I +go, and carry them both to Cairo, settle their little business, and +let them present a sealed-up book which they have to their Consul there, +according to their master’s desire, and then marry the girl to +some decent man. I have left her in Mustapha’s hareem till +I go.</p> +<p>I enjoyed Nubia immensely, and long to go and live with the descendants +of a great <i>Ras</i> (head, chief,) who entertained me at Ibreem, and +who said, like Ravenswood, ‘Thou art come to a fallen house, and +there is none to serve thee left save me.’ It was a paradise +of a place, and the Nubian had the grand manners of a very old, proud +nobleman. I had a letter to him from Sheykh Yussuf.</p> +<p>Since I wrote the above it has turned quite chilly again, so we agreed +to stay till the heat really begins. Maurice is so charmed with +Luxor that he does not want to go, and we mean to let the boat and live +here next winter. I think another week will see us start down +stream. Janet talks of coming up the Nile with me next year, which +would be pleasant. I am a little better than I have been the last +two months. I was best in Nubia but I got a cold at Esneh, second +hand from Maurice, which made me very seedy. I cannot go about +at all for want of breath. Could you send me a chair such as people +are carried in by two men? A common chair is awkward for the men +when the banks are steep, and I am nervous, so I never go out. +I wish you could see your son bare-legged and footed, in a shirt and +a pair of white Arab drawers, rushing about with the fellaheen. +He is everybody’s ‘brother’ or ‘son.’</p> +<h3>May, 1868: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Minieh</span>,<br /> +<i>May</i>, 1868.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>We are just arriving at Minieh whence the railway will take letters +quickly. We dined at Keneh and at Siout with some friends, and +had fantasia at Keneh. Omar desires his dutiful salaams to you +and hopes you will be satisfied with the care he has taken of ‘the +child.’ How you would have been amused to hear the girl +who came to dance for us at Esneh lecture Maurice about evil ways, but +she was an old friend of mine, and gave good and sound advice.</p> +<p>Everyone is delighted about Abyssinia. ‘Thank God our +Pasha will fear the English more than before, and the Sultan also,’ +and when I lamented the expense, they all exclaimed, ‘Never mind +the expense, it is worth more than ten millions to you; your faces are +whitened and your power enlarged before all the world; but why don’t +you take us on your way back.’</p> +<p>I saw a very interesting man at Keneh, one Faam, a Copt, who has +turned Presbyterian, and has induced a hundred others at Koos to do +likewise: an American missionary is their minister. Faam was sent +off to the Soudan by the Patriarch, but brought back. He is a +splendid old fellow, and I felt I looked on the face of a Christian +martyr, a curious sight in the nineteenth century: the calm, fearless, +rapt expression was like what you see in noble old Italian pictures, +and he had the perfect absence of ‘doing pious’ which shows +the undoubting faith. He and the Mufti, also a noble fellow, sparred +about religion in a jocose and friendly tone which would be quite unintelligible +in Exeter Hall. When he was gone the Mufti said, ‘Ah! we +thank them, for though they know not the truth of Islam, they are good +men, and walk straight, and would die for their religion: their example +is excellent; praise be to God for them.’</p> +<h3>June 14, 1868: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Boulak</span>,<br /> +<i>June</i> 14, 1868.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>The climate has been odious for Egypt—to shiver in cold winds +of June on the Nile seems hard. Maurice inherits my faculty for +getting on with ‘d------d niggers’; all the crew kissed +him on both cheeks and swore to come back again in the winter; and up +the country he was hand and glove with all the fellaheen, eating a good +deal of what he called ‘muck’ with great enjoyment, walking +arm in arm with a crazy derweesh, fetching home a bride at night and +swearing lustily by the Prophet. The good manners of the Arab +<i>canaille</i>, have rubbed off the very disagreeable varnish which +he got at Brussels.</p> +<p>Dr. Patterson wants me to go to Beyrout or one of the Greek isles +for a change. I am very feeble and short of breath—but I +will try the experiment. Would you be shocked if a nigger taught +Maurice? One Hajjee Daboos I know to be a capital Arabic scholar +and he speaks French like a Parisian, and Italian also, only he is a +real nigger and so is the best music-master in Cairo. <i>Que faire</i>? +it’s not catching, as Lady Morley said, and I won’t present +you with a young mulatto any more than with a young <i>brave Belge</i>. +I may however find someone at Beyrout. Cairo is in such a state +of beggary that all educated young men have fled. Maurice has +no sort of idea why a nigger should not be as good as anyone else, but +thinks perhaps you might not approve.</p> +<p>You would have stared to see old Achmet Agha Abd el-Sadig, a very +good friend of ours at Assouan, coaxing and patting the <i>weled</i> +(boy) when he dined here the other day, and laughing immoderately at +Maurice’s nonsense. He is one of the M.P.’s for Assouan, +and a wealthy and much respected man in the Saeed. The Abyssinian +affair is an awful disappointment to the Pasha; he had laid his calculations +for something altogether different, and is furious. The Coptic +clergy are ready to murder us. The Arabs are all in raptures. +‘God bless the English general, he has frightened our Pasha.’</p> +<p>Giafar Pasha backsheeshed me an <i>abbayeh</i> of crimson silk and +gold, also a basket of coffee. I was obliged to accept them as +he sent his son with them, and to refuse would have been an insult, +and as he is the one Turk I do think highly of I did not wish to affront +him. It was at Luxor on his way to Khartoum. He also invited +Maurice to Khartoum, and proposed to send a party to fetch him from +Korosko, on the Nile. Giafar is Viceroy of the Soudan, and a very +quiet man, who does not ‘eat the people.’</p> +<p>My best love to Janet, I’ll write soon to her, but I am <i>lazy</i> +and Maurice is worse. Omar nearly cried when Maurice went to Alexandria +for a week. ‘I seem to feel how dull we shall be without +him when he goes away for good,’ said he, and Darfour expresses +his intention of going with Maurice. ‘Thou must give me +to the young man backsheesh,’ as he puts it, ‘because I +have plenty of sense and shall tell him what to do.’ That +is the little rascal’s sauce. Terence’s slaves are +true to the life here.</p> +<h3>October 22, 1868: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Boulak</span>,<br /> +<i>October</i> 22, 1868.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>The unlucky journey to Syria almost cost me my life. The climate +is absolute poison to consumptive people. In ten days after I +arrived the doctor told me to settle my affairs, for I had probably +only a few days to live, and certainly should never recover. However +I got better, and was carried on board the steamer, but am too weak +for anything. We were nearly shipwrecked coming back owing to +the Russian captain having his bride on board and not minding his ship. +We bumped and scraped and rolled very unpleasantly. At Beyrout +the Sisters of Charity wouldn’t nurse a Protestant, nor the Prussians +a non-Lutheran. But Omar and Darfour nursed me better than Europeans +ever do. Little Blackie was as sharp about the physic as a born +doctor’s boy when Omar was taking his turn of sleep. I did +not like the few Syrians I saw at all.</p> +<h3>November 6, 1868: Alick</h3> +<p><span class="smcap">Boulak</span>,<br /> +<i>November</i> 6, 1868.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>I am sure you will rejoice to hear that I am really better. +I now feel so much like living on a bit longer that I will ask you to +send me a cargo of medicines. I didn’t think it worth while +before to ask for anything to be sent to me that could not be forwarded +to Hades, but my old body seems very tough and I fancy I have still +one or two of my nine lives left.</p> +<p>I hope to sail in a very few days, Maurice is going up to Cairo so +I send this by him. Yesterday was little Rainie’s birthday, +and I thought very longingly of her. The photo, of Leighton’s +sketch of Janet I like very much.</p> +<h3>January 25, 1869: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Assouan</span>,<br /> +<i>January</i> 25, 1869.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>We have been here ten days, and I find the air quite the best for +me. I cough much less, only I am weak and short of breath. +I have got a most excellent young Reis for my boat, and a sailor who +sings like a nightingale, indeed he is not a sailor at all, but a professional +Cairo singer who came up with me for fun. He draws crowds to hear +him, and at Esneh the congregation prayed for me in the mosque that +God might reward me for the pleasure I had provided for them. +Fancy desiring the prayers of this congregation for the welfare of the +lady who gave me her opera-box last Saturday. If prayers could +avail to cure I ought to get well rapidly. At Luxor Omar killed +the sheep he had vowed, and Mustapha and Mohammed each killed two, as +thank-offerings for my life, and all the derweeshes held two great <i>Zikrs</i> +in a tent pitched behind the boat, and drummed and chanted and called +on the Lord for two whole nights; and every man in my boat fasted Ramadan +severely, from Omar and the crew to the little boys. I think Darfour +was the most meritorious of all, because he has such a Gargantuan appetite, +but he fasted his thirty days bravely and rubbed his little nose in +the dust energetically in prayer.</p> +<p>On Christmas day I was at Esneh, it was warm and fine, and I made +fantasia and had the girls to dance. Zeyneb and Hillaleah claim +to be my own special <i>Ghazawee</i>, so to speak my <i>Ballerine da +camera</i>, and they did their best. How I did long to transport +the whole scene before your eyes—Ramadan warbling intense lovesongs, +and beating on a tiny tambourine, while Zeyneb danced before him and +gave the pantomime to his song; and the sailors, and girls, and respectable +merchants sat <i>pêle-mêle</i> all round on the deck, and +the player on the rabab drew from it a wail like that of Isis for dead +Osiris. I never quite know whether it is now or four thousand +years ago, or even ten thousand, when I am in the dreamy intoxication +of a real Egyptian fantasia; nothing is so antique as the Ghazawee—the +<i>real</i> dancing girls. They are still subject to religious +ecstasies of a very curious kind, no doubt inherited from the remotest +antiquity. Ask any learned pundit to explain to you the <i>Zar</i>—it +is really curious.</p> +<p>Now that I am too ill to write I feel sorry that I did not persist +and write on the beliefs of Egypt in spite of your fear that the learned +would cut me up, for I honestly believe that knowledge will die with +me which few others possess. You must recollect that the learned +know books, and I know men, and what is still more difficult, women.</p> +<p>The Cataract is very bad this year, owing to want of water in the +Nile, and to the shameful conduct of the Maohn here. The cataract +men came to me, and prayed me to ‘give them my voice’ before +the Mudir, which I will do. Allah ed-deen Bey seems a decent man +and will perhaps remove the rascal, whose robberies on travellers are +notorious, and his oppression of the poor savages who pull the boats +up odious. Two boats have been severely damaged, and my friend +the Reis of the Cataract (the one I threatened to shoot last year, and +who has believed in me ever since) does not advise me to go up, though +he would take me for nothing, he swears, if I wished. So as the +air is good here and Maurice is happy with his companions, I will stay +here.</p> +<p>I meant to have discharged my men, but I have grown so fond of them +(having so good a set), that I can’t bring myself to save £20 +by turning them adrift when we are all so happy and comfortable, and +the poor fellows are just marrying new wives with their wages. +Good-bye dearest Alick, forgive a scrawl, for I am very weak all over, +fingers and all. Best love to my darling Rainie. Three boats +have little girls of five to eight on board, and I do envy them so. +I think Maurice had better go home to you, when we get to Cairo. +He ought to be doing something.</p> +<h3>June 15, 1869: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Boulak</span>,<br /> +<i>June</i> 15, 1869.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>Do not think of coming here. Indeed it would be almost too +painful to me to part from you again; and as it is, I can patiently +wait for the end among people who are kind and loving enough to be comfortable, +without too much feeling of the pain of parting. The leaving Luxor +was rather a distressing scene, as they did not think to see me again.</p> +<p>The kindness of all the people was really touching, from the Kadee +who made ready my tomb among his own family, to the poorest fellaheen. +Omar sends you his most heartfelt thanks, and begs that the boat may +remain registered at the Consulate in your name for his use and benefit. +The Prince has appointed him his own dragoman. But he is sad enough, +poor fellow, all his prosperity does not console him for the loss of +‘the mother he found in the world.’ Mohammed at Luxor +wept bitterly and said, ‘poor I, my poor children, poor all the +people,’ and kissed my hand passionately, and the people at Esneh, +asked leave to touch me ‘for a blessing,’ and everyone sent +delicate bread, and their best butter, and vegetables and lambs. +They are kinder than ever now that I can no longer be of any use to +them.</p> +<p>If I live till September I will go up to Esneh, where the air is +softest and I cough less. I would rather die among my own people +in the Saeed than here.</p> +<p>You must forgive this scrawl, dearest. Don’t think please +of sending Maurice out again, he must begin to work now or he will never +be good for anything.</p> +<p>Can you thank the Prince of Wales for Omar, or shall I write? +He was most pleasant and kind, and the Princess too. She is the +most perfectly simple-mannered girl I ever saw. She does not even +try to be civil like other great people, but asks blunt questions, and +looks at one so heartily with her clear, honest eyes, that she must +win all hearts. They were more considerate than any people I have +seen, and the Prince, instead of being gracious, was, if I may say so, +quite respectful in his manner: he is very well bred and pleasant, and +has the honest eyes that makes one sure he has a kind heart.</p> +<p>My sailors were so proud at having the honour of rowing him <i>in +our own boat</i>, and of singing to him. I had a very good singer +in the boat. Please send some little present for my Reis: he is +such a good man; he will be pleased at some little thing from you. +He is half Turk, and seems like whole one. Maurice will have told +you all about us. Good-bye for the present, dearest Alick.</p> +<h3>July 9, 1869: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</h3> +<p><i>To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon</i>.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Helwan</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Opposite Bedreshayn</span>,<br /> +<i>July</i> 9, 1869.</p> +<p>Dearest Alick,</p> +<p>Don’t make yourself unhappy, and don’t send out a nurse. +And above all don’t think of coming. I am nursed as well +as possible. My two Reises, Ramadan and Yussuf, are strong and +tender and Omar is admirable as ever. The worst is I am so strong.</p> +<p>I repeat I could not be better cared for anywhere than by my good +and loving crew. Tell Maurice how they all cried and how Abd el-Haleem +forswore drink and hasheesh. He is very good too. But my +Reises are incomparable. God bless you. I wish I had seen +your dear face once more—but not now. I would not have you +here now on any account.</p> +<h2>Footnotes:</h2> +<p><a name="footnote1"></a><a href="#citation1">{1}</a> See my +‘Three Generations of English Women.’</p> +<p><a name="footnote4"></a><a href="#citation4">{4}</a> See ‘Three +Generations of English Women.’</p> +<p><a name="footnote48"></a><a href="#citation48">{48}</a> A smoker +or eater of <i>hasheeshs</i> (hemp).</p> +<p><a name="footnote55"></a><a href="#citation55">{55}</a> Lady +Mary and Lord Jesus.</p> +<p><a name="footnote188"></a><a href="#citation188">{188}</a> +About 7½ bushels.</p> +<p><a name="footnote293"></a><a href="#citation293">{293}</a> +Now, I believe, abolished. The Sheykh of the Saadeeyeh darweeshes, +passing part of the night in solitude, reciting prayers and passages +of the Koran, went to the mosque, preached and said the noonday prayer; +then, mounting his horse, proceeded to the Ezbekeeyeh. Many darweeshes +with flags accompanied him to the house of the Sheykh of all the darweeshes +where he stayed for some time, whilst his followers were engaged in +packing the bodies of those who wished to be trampled under the hoofs +of the Sheykh’s horse as closely together as they could in the +middle of the road. Some eighty or a hundred, or more men lay +side by side flat on the ground on their stomachs muttering, Allah Allah! +and to try if they were packed close enough about twenty darweeshes +ran over their backs, beating little drums and shouting Allah! and now +and then stopping to arrange an arm or leg. Then appeared the +Sheykh, his horse led by two grooms, while two more rested their hands +on his croup. By much pulling and pushing they at last induced +the snorting, frightened beast to amble quickly over the row of prostrate +men. The moment the horse had passed the men sprang up, and followed +the Sheykh over the bodies of the others. It was said that on +the day before the Dóseh they, and the Sheykh, repeated certain +prayers which prevented the horse’s hoofs from hurting them, and +that sometimes a man, overcome by religious enthusiasm, had thrown himself +down with the rest and been seriously hurt, or even killed.</p> +<p><a name="footnote315"></a><a href="#citation315">{315}</a> +Mohammed Ali Pasha, who was an illiterate coffee-house keeper in Salonica, +first came to Egypt at the head of a body of Albanians and co-operated +with the English against the French. By his extraordinary vigour +and intelligence he became the ruler of Lower Egypt, and succeeded in +attaching the Mameluke Beys to his person. But finding that they +were beginning to chafe under his firm rule, he invited them, in 1811, +to a grand dinner in the Citadel of Cairo. The gates were closed, +and suddenly fire was opened upon them from every side. Only one +man, Elfy Bey, spurred his horse and jumped over the battlements into +the square below (some 80 or 90 feet). His horse was killed and +he broke his leg, but managed to crawl to a friend’s house and +was saved. This same Elfy Bey, on the death of Abbas Pasha, held +the Citadel for his son, El Hamy, against his uncle, Said Pasha, and +it was only by the intervention of the English Consul-General, who rode +up to the Citadel, that Elfy was induced to acknowledge Said as Viceroy +of Egypt.</p> +<p><a name="footnote334"></a><a href="#citation334">{334}</a> +Alexis was a clair-voyant who created some sensation in London about +fifty years ago. One evening at Lansdowne House he was reading +people’s thoughts and describing their houses from the lines in +their hands, and a few leading questions. The old Marquess asked +my mother to let Alexis read her thoughts, and, I suppose, impressed +by her <i>grand air</i> and statuesque beauty, imagining that she would +think about some great hero of ancient days, he said, after careful +inspection of her hand, ‘Madame vous pensez a Jules Cesar.’ +She shook her head and told him to try again. His next guess was +Alexander the Great. She smiled and said, ‘Non, Monsieur, +je pensais a mon fidèle domestique nègre, Hassan.’ +He then described her house as something akin to Lansdowne House—vast +rooms, splendid pictures, etc. She laughed and told him she lived +in ‘une maison fort modeste et tant soi peu bourgeois,’ +which elicited his angry exclamation that she had not faith enough, +<i>i.e</i>. that she did not help him.</p> +<p><a name="footnote336"></a><a href="#citation336">{336}</a> +See Introduction, p. 6.</p> +<p><a name="footnote350"></a><a href="#citation350">{350}</a> +According to tradition, the first Christian church in Egypt was built +by St. Mark the Evangelist at Baucalis near Alexandria, and Christianity +was introduced into Abyssinia under Athanasius Patriarch of Alexandria +from 236 to 273. The authority of the Egyptian Coptic Patriarch +is still paramount in Abyssinia, where he counts his adherents by the +million.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LETTERS FROM EGYPT***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 17816-h.htm or 17816-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/8/1/17816 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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