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 onese scandaliseat their antecedents—neither is it proper to repent in sackcloth and ashes, or to confess sins, except to God alone. You are not toindulgein 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.
Here is a pretty story for you from theHadeth en-Nebbee(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 tworekahs(prayers ending with the prostration andAllah akbar) can a man fix his mind on God alone.” The other said, “Nay, but I can do it!” “Say then tworekahs,” 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, saidAllah akbar, and bent to the ground for his firstrekah; 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 theeshé(first prayers one hour after sunset), he ran up to the hill outside the village, and began to chaunt forth thetekbeerwith all his might—Allah akbar,Allah akbar, 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.’
To Mrs. Austin.
Luxor,February15, 1866.
Dearest Mutter,
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.
My young Frenchman turns out to be a M. Brunegrand prix de Rome, 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 quarterednolens volenson 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 getKudos. 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. Anhomme sérieuxwith an absorbing pursuit is always good company in the long run. Moreover M. Brune behaves like a perfect gentleman in every way. Sotout est pour le mieux.
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—anddamit hats eine endeof European maids. Of course an ignorant girlmustbe bored to death here—a land of no amusements and no flirtationisunbearable. 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.
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.
To-morrow is the smaller Bairam, and I shall have all the Hareem here to visit me.
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 ofHeimweh, but I thought it so kind and pretty andherzlichof them to come and tell me how Alexander and Maurice looked as they went along the street.
To Mrs. Ross.
February22, 1866.
Dearest Janet,
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.
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.
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.
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.
How is the Shereef of Mecca’s horse? I ambition to ride that holy animal.
To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon.
Luxor,February22, 1866.
Dearest Alick,
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 ashaitan(devil),i.e.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.
I was so pleased to see two Mr. Watsons—your opposite neighbours—who said they saw you every morning go down the street—ojala! that I did so too! I liked Mr. and Mrs. Webb of Newstead Abbey very much; nice, hearty, pleasant, truly English people.
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.
Seyd has just come in to take my letter to the steamer which is now going down. Soaddio, dearest Alick. I am much better but still weakish, and verytristeat my long separation.
To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon.
Tuesday,March6, 1866.
Dearest Alick,
I write to be ready for the lastdownsteamer 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.
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.
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.
To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon.
Thebes,March17, 1866.
Dearest Alick,
The high winds have begun with a vengeance and a great bore they are.
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 valuableanteekehs(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.’
To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon.
March31, 1866.
Dearest Alick,
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 herboordehwhich 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.
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.
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 theEbu er Rukkeh(equivalent to black art), and areharamto 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.
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.
Coptic Palm Sunday,April1.
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.
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.
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.
To Mrs. Ross.
Eed el Kebeer,Wednesday,April, 1866.
Dearest Janet,
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 myrégimeof 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.
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.
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.
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.
Well, I must say good-bye.Kulloo sana intee tayib, love to Henry.
To Mrs. Austin.
Bairam,April, 1866.
Dearest Mutter,
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 fewUlemaknow 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.
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 ameskeen. 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.
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.
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.
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 andachy, that I don’t know what to do with them, except listen to their complaints, which begin, ‘Ya ragleh.’Ragelis man, soraglehis the old GermanMännin, and is the civil way of addressing a Saeedee woman. To one old body I gave a powder wrapped up in a fragment of aSaturday Review. She came again and declared Mashallah! thehegab(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 theSaturdaywhich had so drastic an effect.
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.
To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon.
Luxor,May10, 1866.
Dearest Alick,
The real summer heat—theSkems el-Kebeer(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.
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.
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 andmelocheeaand bread; and thenzikrsof different kinds, and aGama el Fokara(assembly of the poor).Gamais the true word for Mosque—i.e., 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 ofwahed(one), orel Had(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 likeHad. 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. Thezikrof the Edfoo men was very curious. Our people did it quietly, and themoonsheedsang 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 ‘grund Idee’ of azikr, 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.
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 theCamerierawere 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.
Did I describe the Coptic Good Friday? Imagine 450Rekahsin church! I have seen many queer things, but nothing half so queer as the bobbing of the Copts.
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 Christianshaheed(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 alithamin 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.
I shall leave Luxor in five or six days—and write now to stop all letters in Cairo.
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 ofbaklawehthis morning to make up for it.
To Maurice Duff Gordon.
Cairo,June22, 1866.
Maurice my Darling,
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,Islam el Islam, 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.
To Mrs. Austin.
Off Boulak, Cairo,July10, 1866.
Dearest Mutter,
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 badhashashboy 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.
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 theKhatmeh(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 powerfulhegabor 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 beautifulhegabof 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.
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 bebalal(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.
July14th.—Since I wrote this, I have had the boat topsy-turvy, with a carpenter and amenegget(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 tonaas omra(noble people). This is what makes Arab society quite unintelligible and impossible to most Europeans.
My carpenter’s boy was the son of amoonsheed(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.
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 anyan-nyan(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.
While the carpenter, his boy, and twomeneggetswere 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,Alhamdulillah, 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.
July15th.—Last night came the twomeneggetsto 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.
The Nile is rising fast, and theBisheeris come (the messenger who precedes the Hajj, and brings letters).Bisheeris ‘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.
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.
Miss Berryisdull no doubt, but few books seem dull to me now, I can tell you, and I was much delighted with such apièce de résistance. 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 ofrealfun 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.C’est chercher midi à quatorze heures. Last year the day of Abraham’s sacrifice,—and thereforetheday 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 theHajj el-Gumma(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.
TheMoolid en-Nebbee(Festival of the Prophet) has just begun. I am to have a place in the great Derweesh’s tent to see the Doseh.
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 afantasiaat 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 besolidto stand hard work.
Well, I must finish this endless letter. Here comessucha 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.
Cairo,July17, 1866.
Dearest Alick,
I am perfectly comfortable now with my aquaticménage. 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!
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.
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.
August4.—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, ratherwacham, 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.
I saw theMoolid en-Nebbee(Festival of the Prophet), and the wonderfulDóseh(treading); it is an awful sight; so many men drunk with religious ardour.[293]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 andtristeit 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 theDóseh. She had never seen it, and never would.
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. TheMahmalwas 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.
To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon.
Off Boulak,August20, 1866.
Dearest Alick,
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 theAta el-Khalig(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.
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,tayib? (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.
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. TheMahmalwas burked this year, and the fair at Tantah forbidden. Then the Europeans spoil all; the Arabs no longer go to theAta el-Khalig, and at theDóseh, the Frangee carriages were like the Derby day. It is only up country that the real thing remains.
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, someFikeeswill read the Koran in the cabin, and again there will be boiled mutton and bread. The ChristianMa-allimeen(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.
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.
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 Turkishtob? 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.
To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon.
Off BoulakAugust27, 1866.
Dearest Alick,
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.
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 isourboat (i.e.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 threeMa-allimeen, 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 myMa-allimeen, 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 beatingpro formaand 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.e.‘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.’Kurz und gut, 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 theMa-allimsand 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 threeMa-allimeencame 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.
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 aFettah, and is the orthodox dish of darweeshes and given at allKhatmehsand 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.
The threeMa-allimscame on board this boat, as I said and ate; and it was fine to hear us—how polite we were. ‘A bit more, ohMa-allim?’ ‘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.’ ‘OhMa-allim, 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.’
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.
September4.—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 myMa-allimswho 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.
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.
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.’
To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon.
Off Boulak,September21, 1886.
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 hearhader(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 myménageis 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 ‘ne doute de rien’ 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.
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.’
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.
To Mrs. Austin.
Off Boulak,September21, 1886.
Dearest Mutter,
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 ideasdésolant, adégringolade backinto 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 theTimesand theSaturday Reviewin 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.
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.
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 quiteallto 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 sleptsub dio. In England I must have refused the hospitality, on account ofgêneand 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.
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.