CHAPTERII.
Mehemet Ali’s hospitality to travellers—Prince Pückler Muskau’s appreciation of it—His reception of Doctor M.—Reflections on passports—Lady Hester’s pecuniary difficulties—Her reluctance to reduce her establishment—Her restlessness—Presents in Eastern countries—Severity necessary with Eastern servants—Letter from Lady Hester to Lord Ebrington—Outrage committed on old Pierre—Defection of the Ottoman fleet—Khalyl Aga.
About noon, I went from the French khan to the house which Prince Pückler Muskau occupied. He was lodged in the residence of Ibrahim Nuckly, one of the richest merchants of the place, who, by the governor’s order, had removed his family to accommodate his highness, whose suite was numerous. Mahomet Ali, viceroy of Egypt, anxious to do honour to the Prince, had given him a special firmàn, requiring all official persons to treat him in a manner suitable to his rank. A military officer, a Tartar, and two or three chaôoshes, accompanied him in his travels;and everything was provided for him at the Pasha’s expense.
These signal acts of oriental hospitality have given occasion to some discussion amongst European travellers. It is urged, on the one side, that such travellers should avail themselves of these favours merely as credentials for enabling them to procure whatever they may require in accordance with their rank; but that they should acknowledge all the courtesies they receive by presents and remuneration at least equivalent to the trouble and expense they occasion. On the other hand, it is said that such magnificent liberality should be accepted in its full and unrestricted sense, anything in the shape of largess or repayment being regarded only as a reduction from the free grace of the original courtesy. In this latter sense, Prince Pückler Muskau understood the viceroy’s hospitality: he took the firmàn strictly according to the letter; and his house, post-horses, and provisions—in short, his whole expenditure, was defrayed by checks on the viceroy’s treasury. The Duke Maximilian of Bavaria, Lord Prudhoe, and a few others, who were favoured with similar firmàns, thought otherwise: they left proofs of their generosity wherever they went, handsomely rewarding everybody whom they put to the least trouble or inconvenience. It is impossible to suppose that the Prince thought he could repay all the kindnesseshe received by the gratitude of his pen; because it is impossible to suppose that favours of that kind could exert any influence over his writings. The only conclusion at which we can reasonably arrive is that he was proud of this distinguished feature in his travels—namely, that of having traversed the whole of Egypt and Syria with all the pomp of a grandee without having expended a single farthing. The distinction is a strange one, but it is a distinction notwithstanding.
The courtyard of the prince’s house was filled with military officers, government people, and others, waiting to be presented; but, as soon as my name was announced, I was ushered by his dragoman into a handsomealliah, or saloon, gaily painted in Arabesque, with sofas round three sides of the room. The remains of breakfast were on the table. He expressed great pleasure in seeing me, and, by his countenance and manner, immediately prepossessed me in his favour. He is a tall man, about fifty years of age. I found him dressed in a loose morning-gown, with white trousers, and a yellow scarf thrown over his shoulders somewhat for effect, with acasquetteon, and having the air and demeanour of what he was—a man of the world and of high birth. He had a chamelion crawling about on the tube of his pipe and on his chair; and, every now and then, the exclamationof “Ou donc est le caméléon? ou est mon petit bijou?” made me fear at first we were going to have a second edition of Monsieur L—— with his lap-dog, who, in talking to it in all those endearing terms which the French use towards pet animals, and in making more fuss about its food, bed, and the like, than humanity requires, had greatly lessened himself in the estimation of both Turks and Christians, in a country where exaggerated and unnatural phraseology is never applied to brute animals.
The conversation naturally began by inquiries respecting Lady Hester Stanhope’s health, with expressions of deep interest for her recovery. He next spoke of our young queen. “Quel beau rôle!” he exclaimed, “to be a queen, and to be so lovely, so young, so clever! and where will she find a husband worthy of her?” A latent thought seemed to lurk in the prince’s breast, and who knows what he felt at the moment? Notwithstanding, of himself he said, “I have almost made up my mind to settle in this fine country: I will build myself a house, get what I want from Europe, make arrangements for newspapers, books, &c., and choose some delightful situation; but I think it will be on Mount Lebanon. However, after I have seen more of the country, I shall be better able to judge: for, after all, I find no country so charming as this, and Europe is no longer the land of liberty;for there liberty and passports cannot exist together.” He then told me a story of his having been stopped somewhere in France from an informality in his passport.
I agreed with him most heartily on this head, and reminded him of that liberticide, M. Guizot, who, in a national senate, could dare to affirm that the locomotion of individuals was subject to the will of governments.[5]“Yes,” I added, “of governments such as he would frame, it might be: but, thank God! there are countries where sophists are not yet called to rule over mankind. Thank God! too, that, in his infinite wisdom, he has sent gout and palsy into the world to hamper the legs and movements of those who seek to trammel the industrious citizen or the enterprising traveller, and all those honest and necessary callings, the success of which often depends on unrestrained freedom in change of place.” Here I stopped: but, had I been more intimate with the prince, I would have added—“Use your pen, good prince: it has exposed with success some follies and prejudices in the world; let it shame tyranny and oppression: for never can Frenchmen boast of freedom whilst individuals are booked and labelled from place to place, like parcels in a diligence office.”[6]
The journal which lay before the prince caught my eye, clearly written, and no doubt long meditated. He spoke French with great purity.
Count Tattenbach was present during the interview, and his mild and somewhat melancholy manner led me to suppose that her ladyship had judged rightly ofone who had devoted himself to the prince’s service. He was a gentleman, as I had occasion afterwards to know, who, to a thorough acquaintance with the modern Greek language, to high talents for music and painting, as also to a general love of the fine arts andbelles lettres, added a finished education and much instruction acquired by travel.
As the prince’s dragoman had now announced two more persons of consideration, who were waiting to be introduced, I drew my interview to a conclusion, although the prince was courteous enough to desire to prolong it by ordering pipes and coffee for his visitors in an ante-room. In the evening I returned to Jôon, and gave Lady Hester an account of my mission.
Friday, March 23.—One of Lady Hester Stanhope’s peculiarities was, that no business, however common, could be done without a reference to lucky and unlucky days. The season was now come for her mares to go to grass, and strict orders were issued that they should be taken this afternoon, just before sunset. The field of green barley in which they were to be placed was between Jôon and Sayda, close above the gardens. The grooms were furnished with a tent, a night lamp, tethering cords, and all that was necessary for a gipsy camp, which was to last six weeks: they were also put on board-wages. But a scene of violent excitement was acted by Lady Hester, in consequenceof finding that the field was rented this year for two hundred and sixty piasters, which field four years before was let for one hundred and thirty. “See,” she said, “how these bailiffs waste my money, and no one keeps watch over them, to check their rascality: they take bribes to let others cheat me, and nobody knows the real value of even an acre of grass.”
We were now again without money in the house, the last ten thousand piasters having been spent. No letter came from Sir Francis Burdett. Her pension was suspended. Seven thousand piasters were due to the people for a quarter’s wages: and, in consequence of the reports current even in the bazàars, the baths, and the barbers’ shops at Beyrout, that her income had been stopped by the Queen, there was little likelihood of her bills being negociable on London, even for the quarter’s money arising from the legacy of £1,500 a year, left her by her brother, Colonel James Stanhope, which still held good. Notwithstanding these difficulties, no disposition was manifested by her to curtail a single expense. There were still thirty-three or thirty-four servants, all of them doing what three good European men and two maids would have performed a great deal better. “For,” she would say, “how can I turn them away now, to fall victims to the conscription, and have to reproach myself for their misfortunes?” But it is much to be fearedthat of all those to whom she afforded protection not one would have remained an hour in her service, had not that very apprehension been before their eyes: for, as mussulmans, they could not, according to the tenets of their religion, serve infidels. Confirmed in idleness as they were, they hated those who set them to do anything; and, knowing the weak points of Lady Hester’s character—her love of the semblance of sovereignty and of high-sounding titles, her avidity for supposed secret news, her dislike to women in general, and her disposition to mortify others—they flattered her foibles, provoked her jealousies, added fuel to her anger, and made the house a scene of trouble from morning to night, which answered their own purposes, by keeping their mistress constantly employed. Ill as she was, all this rendered her worse, and my days were literally passed in endeavouring to soothe her irritation.
Never was there so restless a spirit—never lived a human being so utterly indifferent to the inconvenience to which she subjected those, who she thought had been remiss in their duty. Nobody could pursue their avocations in quiet: she must give instructions to every one. And although the unexampled versatility of her talents and genius seemed to inspire her with an intuitive knowledge on all matters, yet it was irksome to remain three or four hours together to be taught how to govern one’s wife or how torear one’s children, how statesmen were made and how ministers were unmade, how to know a good horse or a bad man, how to plant lettuces or plough a field, &c. These lectures nobody could render more agreeable and instructive than Lady Hester Stanhope, if they had occurred less frequently, or if they had always arisen naturally out of the course of conversation. But I was the only English person with her: she made me the vehicle of all her wishes and instructions—her griefs and her abuse; she dictated all her letters to me; I comptrolled her accounts and was her treasurer; I directed her household; I read long files of newspapers, to cull the interesting articles for her; I had to discuss medicine with her, and was expected to cure an incurable disease; I had to scold her maids, and to become, if she could have persuaded me, a slave-driver: lastly, I generally sat up with her until two or three o’clock in the morning. All this was more than enough to do, even with all the appliances of a well furnished house and a well regulated English establishment; but, exposed to the many inconveniences that a house half furnished, a people half taught, and materials of comfort half wanting, caused, it is hardly to be wondered if I found my humble abilities unequal to the task.
Lady Hester Stanhope’s health in the mean time improved, whilst mine gave way. She was howeverover-anxious about the prince’s expected visit, and returned to her favourite idea that a large body like hers required a great deal of substantial nourishment. She accordingly tried to eat forced-meat balls, meat-pies, lamb, chicken, &c., and hoped to calm her dyspnœa by spoonfuls of wine and lukewarm drinks. During these days I was busy in perusing a file of newspapers extending from November 23 to February 4. It was in them that we read the details of Mr. D. W. Harvey’s motion for a committee on the Pension List.
Saturday, March 25.—Lady Hester received a letter from the Viscount Ebrington, giving her notice also of the committee, saying he was on it, and that she could write to him whatever she had to suggest for securing a continuance of her pension: but the die was already cast—she had resigned it, and she was not a woman to retract her words.
Sunday, March 26.—Lady Hester sent to my family a fine cluster of bananas, weighing perhaps twenty-five pounds. When she saw me, she said, in allusion to them, “I suppose you will not take any of my presents as usual. Do as you like: but why do I send things to your house? because in this country nothing marks the regard one person has for another so much as presents: and, if you hear the servants wish to denote the thorough contempt that a sultan, apasha, or an emir has for any one, it will always be by saying he did not even give him a present to the value of a fig. In England, for example, it would be thought strange to send a couple of loaves of sugar to another man’s house, or a sheep, or a bag of coffee: but here it is done every day. In the same way, presents of clothes are very common: however, I will not trouble you that way any more if you don’t like it. But just tell me, when you first arrived in this country, and in a retired spot like this, where were you to get what was necessary to dress yourself as a Turk? it would have been impossible.”
This conversation arose from some expensive presents, which Lady Hester Stanhope had, on two or three occasions, just after our arrival, made to me and my family: such as some pieces of Damascus silks, a fine abah or cloak, exactly similar to the one she always wore, and a complete Turkish suit of clothes. I acknowledged in return how highly we were flattered by these tokens of regard, but requested leave to return the pieces of silk, and professed my willingness to keep the dress, as I could not absent myself to replenish my wardrobe, and I knew how much she disliked the European dress. I considered, too, though of course I did not say so, that her finances required that nothing should be spent unnecessarily, and I did not like to be supposed to encourage profusion; but she refusedto take back anything, and said she would immediately have them burned in the courtyard, if I returned them. There was no disputing with her, so she gained her point. As for fruit and such things, I raised no objection, and Lady Hester seldom let a day pass without contributing to the comforts or luxuries of our table.
It was impossible to enjoy a calm for any length of time. In the morning, when I went to Lady Hester, I found her greatly ruffled. The conversation that ensued will explain the cause. “You suffer yourself,” said she, “and I have told you so over and over again, to be trampled on by these people; who, when they say you are a kind-hearted man, only laugh at you. Which do you think they like best, Logmagi, who abuses them well, or you, who are afraid of them?—why, Logmagi, to be sure. Captain Logmagi is genteel, is delightful in their eyes; because masters here are only known to be such by their severity. What did one of my black girls, Zayneb, tell me many a time? ‘Why don’t you flog me well, if I do what you dislike? I shall know then what you mean: but when you are preaching to me, and what you call giving me advice for my good, I only fancy it all a trick for some purpose.’ There was Giovanni, your old servant, how often did he say to me, after I took him—‘I don’t understand all that jargon, but I know what the whipmeans.’ Look again what they say about the prince”—(Pückler Muskau, of whom it appears they had heard something from the servants who had been to Sayda)—“‘That’s something like a man—he can put himself in a passion.’—Doctor, I can’t bear such cold milk and water people as you are, nor can they: I am like a hot iron—pour cold water on it, and see how it hisses.
“Women formerly found something like protection from men, and were not left alone in the world as they are now. What! shall I have a scoundrel of a fellow, like ——, come and stick his fingers in my face, and ‘you’ and ‘you’ me? but I’ll teach him better manners, or I’ll know why:—a set of beings, the slush of the earth!des âmes viles, as the prince calls them. I told Mr. Dundas that, now-a-days, one might think one’s self very well off, if, when some dirty fellow spits in one’s face, what was called a gentleman took out his white pocket-handkerchief and wiped it off, hoping one was not hurt!”
The conversation here took another turn. “I wish you,” said she, “to ask your little girl’s governess to come in, and iron some sheets for me: do you think she will do it? You may order Lunardi’s room to be cleaned out for her. As for my making company of her, you know it would be a farce: would it not? Not that a difference of rank makes any difference with me:for I have seen poor people, whose natural qualities, whose pure unsophisticated minds, whose real virtues have made me feel myself their inferior in those things, although so much their superior perhaps in judgment and talents. Such people are oftentimes preferable, in my opinion, to all those who read out of one book and then out of another, thinking one day according to one author, and the next day quite the contrary: just like teapots, drizzling out of the spout what was poured into them under the lid. As for me, I would destroy all books in a lump. It was a lucky thing for mankind that the Alexandrian library was destroyed: there was good reason for what the caliph did.”
March 29.—An answer to Lord Ebrington’s letter, of which the following is a copy, was written to-day:
Lady Hester Stanhope to the Viscount Ebrington.
Jôon, March 29, 1838.My dear Lord Ebrington,Your letter of the 26th of December reached me a few days ago; and it gave me great satisfaction to find you had not altogether forgotten me or my interests. I am so ignorant of what passes in Europe, generally speaking, that I was not aware that pensions were to be revised. The first I heard of it was from a traveller (Mr. Vesey Foster) having mentioned, about a fortnightago, that such was the intention of Government: but, as I did not see him, I had no opportunity of inquiring into particulars. You tell me that you are on the committee, and that, whatever I have to say respecting my pension, I had better write it to you:—I have nothing to say. You can hardly suppose that I would owe a pension to the commiseration of a pettifogging committee, when I refused Mr. Fox’s liberal proposition of securing me a handsome income by a grant of Parliament: neither should I, under any circumstances, lower the name of my dear old King, or my own, by giving any explanation. It was His Majesty’s pleasure to give me a pension—that is sufficient—or ought to be sufficient. New-coined Royalties I do not understand, nor do I wish to understand them nor any of their proceedings. My ultimatum respecting my pension I have given to the Duke of Wellington, founded on the impudent letter of Colonel Campbell, a copy of which I enclose.Hester Lucy Stanhope.
Jôon, March 29, 1838.
My dear Lord Ebrington,
Your letter of the 26th of December reached me a few days ago; and it gave me great satisfaction to find you had not altogether forgotten me or my interests. I am so ignorant of what passes in Europe, generally speaking, that I was not aware that pensions were to be revised. The first I heard of it was from a traveller (Mr. Vesey Foster) having mentioned, about a fortnightago, that such was the intention of Government: but, as I did not see him, I had no opportunity of inquiring into particulars. You tell me that you are on the committee, and that, whatever I have to say respecting my pension, I had better write it to you:—I have nothing to say. You can hardly suppose that I would owe a pension to the commiseration of a pettifogging committee, when I refused Mr. Fox’s liberal proposition of securing me a handsome income by a grant of Parliament: neither should I, under any circumstances, lower the name of my dear old King, or my own, by giving any explanation. It was His Majesty’s pleasure to give me a pension—that is sufficient—or ought to be sufficient. New-coined Royalties I do not understand, nor do I wish to understand them nor any of their proceedings. My ultimatum respecting my pension I have given to the Duke of Wellington, founded on the impudent letter of Colonel Campbell, a copy of which I enclose.
Hester Lucy Stanhope.
April 1.—Although the European tricks of All Fools’ Day have no counterpart in the East, this morning was marked by a jest, if it were one, which was not unlike one of the dangerous practical jokes of the West, and which very nearly proved fatal to theobject of it. Old Pierre had contrived to render himself unpopular amongst the Christian servants by railing at their bad faith and their indifference to religion—abusing at the same time the mufti, the cadi, and priests of all denominations. The Turks swore to be revenged, and even went so far as to say that they would murder him. Whether they intended to execute their threat to the full is, perhaps, doubtful; but they fell upon him in the dead of the night, and might possibly have carried it into effect had not Lady Hester heard his cries and sent Logmagi to rescue him.
Not a word of this was breathed to me the next morning by any one: the same mystery would have been observed had they murdered him. It is amazing with what perfect combination of purpose these people keep their own counsel: you might be in the heart of a plot for days and days, and never know anything about it. Ever designing and ever mysterious, and always apparently most calm and most smiling the greater the mischief intended, they foil all your vigilance without any apparent effort, and, like the vampire, lull you to slumber when about to spill your blood.[7]
Calling on Lady Hester about three o’clock, I found her in the saloon, seated on the sofa, with the heavy war-mace in her hand: it appears she had had the aggressors of the preceding night before her. “Oh! doctor,” said she, as I entered, “I have settled them.” Not knowing what she meant, I asked whom, and she briefly related Pierre’s jeopardy. “Yes,” continued she, “my arm has some strength in it yet, weak as I am: I have given it to them pretty well, and I don’t think they’ll molest Pierre again.” She rose from the sofa, and gesticulated with great force to show me how effectually she had wielded the mace. I suggested that she should turn the worst of them away, and keep only eight or ten servants; for they were only a torment to her. “Yes, but my rank!” was her characteristic answer.
The rest of the day was employed in making up two cases and two baskets, to be sent as a present toKhalyl Aga Kezerlý, an old acquaintance of Lady Hester’s. They consisted of three bottles of champagne and twelve of Bordeaux, three bottles of rum, three of brandy, and five of different sherbets. Then there were about twenty different remedies in case of illness, a jar of Epsom salts, slips of adhesive plaster, &c.; and, lastly, a couple of needle-cases, with English needles and sewing thread. This man was a Mussulman, and the wine and spirits were for his own use: but he would not have dared to accept them before Ibrahim Pasha’s time; for then a Mussulman’s sobriety was as sure as an Englishman’s veracity was supposed to be, both which, half a century ago, admitted not of a question in Turkey. “God knows,” observed Lady Hester, as she was giving her directions about the packing, “I am always thinking about the comfort of others; but nobody thinks of mine. I am a slave in the service of humanity, and cannot find an atom of feeling, of sentiment, of courage, of energy, of fidelity, or of compassion, in all these wretches by whom I am surrounded.”
The conversation turned on Prince Pückler Muskau, and she regretted she had consented to see him, fearing she should never be able to get through the fatigue, and apprehensive that the expense would be greater than her present means would enable her to undertake. After manyprosandcons, in which Icould but re-echo her fears and apprehensions, which were too justly grounded, I suggested that she might politely decline the prince’s visit. “Oh! but, doctor,” she answered, “his book, his book! I must see him, if it is only to have some things written down. Is it not cruel to be left here, as I am, without one relation ever coming to see me? To think of the times when the Duke of Buckingham would not even let a servant go to order an ice for me, but must go himself and see it brought—andnow!”
FOOTNOTES:[5]Speech of M. Guizot in thechambre des députés.[6]The general feeling of disgust and bitterness with which all travellers, who are natives of Great Britain or of the United States, speak of the vexations they are compelled to undergo from the formalities and exactions to which they are subjected in obtaining signatures to passports on the continent, need not be dwelt upon. Much ill blood, more delay, not to speak of expense, are created by the insolence and legalized robbery of official persons, into whose hands the defenceless traveller falls in the fulfilment of these formalities. Passports are the alpha and omega of a man’s trouble on a continental journey.In some particular cases, it may even be affirmed that the exercise of consular authority in reference to passports amounts to actual illegality. Captain B., an Englishman, in the winter 1836-7, was about to leave the Sardinian States, and made his arrangements accordingly, but neglected to settle a debt which he had contracted at a shop kept also by an Englishman. The creditor immediately went to the English vice-consul, and requested he would not deliver the captain’s passport until the bill was paid: and it was accordingly stopped, although Captain B. had taken his passage by the steamboat. This case is by no means singular; for many English consuls consider themselves justified in acting in the same way under similar circumstances. Now, the question at issue is—has a consul a right to do this? The answer will be found in the fact that no such right is known to the English constitution, and that, therefore, the conduct of the consul is unconstitutional and illegal. The British government has no power over the movements of an individual, except under the warrant of a magistrate. English legislation knows nothing of passports, except as a usage resorted to by foreign governments, to which British subjects must submit while they are within the range of their operation. But the consul, as a British officer, cannot recognize a passport otherwise than as a formality exacted by the government of the country in which he resides; he cannot, without laying himself open to a serious responsibility (which it is a great pity he should not be made to discharge) employ a passport as an instrument for the detention or arrest (for such it amounts to, in fact) of any free-born subject of Great Britain. Even the British consul at Havre did not feel himself authorised to stop Mr. Papineau’s passport on his way to Paris, although Mr. Papineau was denounced as a traitor and an outlaw by the British government.Captain B.’s creditor ought to have applied to the Piedmontese police, and not to the English vice-consul, who was a native of the place. And this is one of the crying evils of our consular system. Instead of appointing meritorious half-pay officers, or other deserving gentlemen, born in Great Britain, to such offices, we frequently bestow them upon inhabitants of the place, who are bound by religious, social, and domestic ties, to prefer the interests of the country in which they live to those of the country which they represent, and who hold in much greater fear and respect the local authorities of the neighbourhood than the distant authority to which they owe no allegiance beyond that of official forms, which they can in most cases violate or misrepresent with impunity. Our consular system is open to many objections, but this is one of the most palpable and disgraceful.[7]The defection of the Ottoman fleet to Mahomet Ali and the treachery of the Captain Pasha furnish a remarkable illustration. One cannot but be struck with the extraordinary fact of a whole crew’s not having, in hint or word, given the slightest intimation to Captain Walker of what was going on. Slight as may have been his knowledge of the Turkish language, yet one would have supposed some expression let fall must have betrayed their intention. He must have had servants likewise, who, mixing with the ship’s company and with the servants of the officers, might have heard some allusion dropped as to the council held to deliberate on so important a measure. But the newspapers said he was ignorant of the plot up to the last moment: and from my own experience I can believe such a thing very readily.
FOOTNOTES:
[5]Speech of M. Guizot in thechambre des députés.
[6]The general feeling of disgust and bitterness with which all travellers, who are natives of Great Britain or of the United States, speak of the vexations they are compelled to undergo from the formalities and exactions to which they are subjected in obtaining signatures to passports on the continent, need not be dwelt upon. Much ill blood, more delay, not to speak of expense, are created by the insolence and legalized robbery of official persons, into whose hands the defenceless traveller falls in the fulfilment of these formalities. Passports are the alpha and omega of a man’s trouble on a continental journey.
In some particular cases, it may even be affirmed that the exercise of consular authority in reference to passports amounts to actual illegality. Captain B., an Englishman, in the winter 1836-7, was about to leave the Sardinian States, and made his arrangements accordingly, but neglected to settle a debt which he had contracted at a shop kept also by an Englishman. The creditor immediately went to the English vice-consul, and requested he would not deliver the captain’s passport until the bill was paid: and it was accordingly stopped, although Captain B. had taken his passage by the steamboat. This case is by no means singular; for many English consuls consider themselves justified in acting in the same way under similar circumstances. Now, the question at issue is—has a consul a right to do this? The answer will be found in the fact that no such right is known to the English constitution, and that, therefore, the conduct of the consul is unconstitutional and illegal. The British government has no power over the movements of an individual, except under the warrant of a magistrate. English legislation knows nothing of passports, except as a usage resorted to by foreign governments, to which British subjects must submit while they are within the range of their operation. But the consul, as a British officer, cannot recognize a passport otherwise than as a formality exacted by the government of the country in which he resides; he cannot, without laying himself open to a serious responsibility (which it is a great pity he should not be made to discharge) employ a passport as an instrument for the detention or arrest (for such it amounts to, in fact) of any free-born subject of Great Britain. Even the British consul at Havre did not feel himself authorised to stop Mr. Papineau’s passport on his way to Paris, although Mr. Papineau was denounced as a traitor and an outlaw by the British government.
Captain B.’s creditor ought to have applied to the Piedmontese police, and not to the English vice-consul, who was a native of the place. And this is one of the crying evils of our consular system. Instead of appointing meritorious half-pay officers, or other deserving gentlemen, born in Great Britain, to such offices, we frequently bestow them upon inhabitants of the place, who are bound by religious, social, and domestic ties, to prefer the interests of the country in which they live to those of the country which they represent, and who hold in much greater fear and respect the local authorities of the neighbourhood than the distant authority to which they owe no allegiance beyond that of official forms, which they can in most cases violate or misrepresent with impunity. Our consular system is open to many objections, but this is one of the most palpable and disgraceful.
[7]The defection of the Ottoman fleet to Mahomet Ali and the treachery of the Captain Pasha furnish a remarkable illustration. One cannot but be struck with the extraordinary fact of a whole crew’s not having, in hint or word, given the slightest intimation to Captain Walker of what was going on. Slight as may have been his knowledge of the Turkish language, yet one would have supposed some expression let fall must have betrayed their intention. He must have had servants likewise, who, mixing with the ship’s company and with the servants of the officers, might have heard some allusion dropped as to the council held to deliberate on so important a measure. But the newspapers said he was ignorant of the plot up to the last moment: and from my own experience I can believe such a thing very readily.