CHAPTER X.
Disappearance of Colonel Boutin, a French traveller—Efforts of Lady Hester Stanhope, for investigating his fate—Mission of Abd el Rasák from Mahannah to Lady Hester—Manners and character of the Bedouins—Story of Mustafa Aga, Khasnadár of Mûly Ismael, and his wife—Departure of Abd el Rasák and his companions.
Disappearance of Colonel Boutin, a French traveller—Efforts of Lady Hester Stanhope, for investigating his fate—Mission of Abd el Rasák from Mahannah to Lady Hester—Manners and character of the Bedouins—Story of Mustafa Aga, Khasnadár of Mûly Ismael, and his wife—Departure of Abd el Rasák and his companions.
I found Lady Hester in tolerable health: but her mind was at this time wholly intent on avenging the death of Colonel Boutin, a Frenchman, whose name and destination will be seen by referring to the occurrences in March of the preceding year, and who had been made away with in his journey from Hamah to Latakia. As one of the most useful purposes to which Lady Hester turned the influence which she enjoyed in this country is connected with his fate, it would be inexcusable were this affair not to be related at length.
Colonel Boutin departed from Hamah for Latakia, accompanied by his Egyptian groom and by another Mahometan servant. He had written to M. Guys, French consul at Latakia, to intimate that, to avoidthe circuitous route of Geser Shogr, he should cut strait across the mountains inhabited by the Ansárys.[80]He slept at Shyzer, departed on the following morning, and was heard of no more.
For many weeks, M. Guys supposed that, like other travellers, he had loitered on the road, or had turned aside to view objects which had taken his attention; but, at last, when no information was received of him from any quarter, rumours of his death began to spread, and reached Lady Hester’s ears. She expected, for some time, that an application would have been made to the pasha to order an inquiry into the circumstances which attended his mysterious disappearance; but, when it was evident that no steps had been taken, she resolved to investigate the matter herself. For she considered that the common cause of travellers, without regard to nation, required that robbery, and much more murder, should not be suffered to pass unpunished; and she respected Colonel Boutin individually as a man of distinguished abilities.
For this purpose she resolved on employing Signor Volpi, the Italian doctor, who had been left to supply my place on my departure for Egypt. Signor Volpi, it was reported, had been originally bred within the pale of the church, but, taking advantage of thetumults of the French revolution, had danced round the Tree of Liberty, and had quitted the cell for the more lucrative employment of the law: which, together with his country, he had finally deserted for physic and Syria. There, not meeting with the encouragement which he thought he merited, he had recourse to his pen, and was for some time clerk to Signor Catsiflitz, English agent at Tripoli. Lady Hester had, during my absence, observed in him a great knowledge of the bad side of men, and she pitched on him as a proper person to go to Hamah to find out what he could respecting Colonel Boutin’s fate.
She had retained in her service, as muleteer to the house, ever since her journey to Bâlbec, a Drûze named Sulymàn, a hardy and resolute fellow, fit for dangerous enterprises. This man she resolved to send in the very track, through the Ansáry mountains, that Colonel Boutin was supposed to have pursued, accompanied by Pierre, who was well adapted, under a feigned object of pedlary or of buying oil, to pass as a poor Christian gaining a livelihood by such traffic.
These three persons, so instructed, had already fulfilled their missions: and, on my arrival from Egypt, Lady Hester was disposed to have made me acquainted with the progress of this affair, and to have requested my help; when I, perhaps too officiously, took upon me to dissuade her from prosecutingit; saying that the French consuls were bound to sift it to the bottom: whilst she, in taking so active a part, was exposing herself, in her excursions about the country, and even in her rides, to the vengeance of these mountaineers, who, there was every reason to think, were as likely to have emissaries sworn to their deadly purposes now as of old.[81]
The only effect of my exhortation was that she never said anything more of the matter to me, and steadily pursued her own humane purposes. I shall dismiss the subject for the present, and will, in the order of events, recur to it hereafter.
During my absence in Egypt, Lady Hester had been visited by M. Otto de Richter, an enterprising Russian, who was travelling through Syria: he afterwards died at or near Ephesus.
Mrs. Fry, Lady Hester’s maid, fell ill of an ague. On the 6th of November, there arrived at Meshmûshy two Bedouins of the tribe of Mahannah, sent by him with a letter to Lady Hester, which contained much complimentary language and inquiries after her welfare. Their real object was to get money, which the emir, always needy, was always using shifts to obtain. One of the Bedouins was named Abd el Rasák, and was a relation of Mahannah’s.
Abd-el-Rasák was an entertaining person, disposed to answer all my questions; and I now satisfied myself on some subjects touching the customs of the Bedouins, which, from my little knowledge of the language when in the Desert, I could not understand. Those which related to the victor and vanquished in battle seemed dictated by motives of humanity, to disarm the strong and ferocious, and give the prisoner a chance of freedom. They are comprehended under the worddukhýl, a term for which (from not having a clear notion of its meaning) I cannot find an equivalent in the English language.[82]It comprehends the pleas and rights of hospitality.
Sometimes a Bedouin loses all his camels by a marauding party; and, finding himself reduced to poverty, resolves to recover his possessions by dukhýl. For this purpose he quits his home, and seeks, unperceived, his enemy’s encampment. He secretes himself near the path by which the despoiler must pass. He bears with him a ball of twine (guzzle), which he spins as he stands. His enemy passes him, and he throws the ball of thread at him. If, as it unwinds, it hits him, the thrower is safe, and he then claims his property; but, if it misses, his enemy turns on him, and, unless he can escape, he loses his liberty or his life.
Again, if one Bedouin, under any circumstances of peril or supplication, can approach so near andunexpectedly to another, as to tie a knot in his keffyah (the silk handkerchief which generally envelops his head), there is no favour that he may not claim: likewise, if the captured can at any time enter into the tent of the captor, or eat of the same mess with him, he is entitled to his liberty. It may be said, with all these strange usages, that no Bedouin is secure for a moment in the enjoyment of his plunder, or in his right over his prisoner. But let it be recollected that he has many ways of immediately getting rid of the one and the other, so as never to be exposed by any possibility to the consequences of dukhýl; and likewise, that, under all circumstances, if any of the women or children, or if he himself, sees a prisoner seeking to obtain his ends in this manner, he has but to crynefah, which destroys the intended grace.
The character of the Bedouins is not destitute of traits of great magnanimity. A certain Ali, in a dispute, killed Ershyd, an ancestor of Mahannah’s. Ershyd’s son, Fadl, was bound to revenge his death, and he steadily sought for an opportunity. The murderer, knowing how certainly his hour would come by Fadl’s hand, unless he could for ever shun him, absented himself in a distant tribe for many years. Tired, at length, of banishment, he deemed life not worth preserving on such terms, and resolved to present himself before his foe, and see if he could notprevail on his generosity so far as to obtain his forgiveness.
One night, Fadl was in the division of his tent set apart for the women, when he heard a footstep and a man cough. “Up, fellow!” he cried out to one of his slaves; “there is a guest in the tent; make some coffee.” He rose himself, went to him, and in the accustomed friendly terms of the Arabs welcomed him. It was very dark. The slave raked the ashes, and threw on some roots to make a blaze. Fadl looked at his guest, and stared, like one thunderstruck; for he knew Ali. “Ali!” said he. “It is even so,” replied the stranger, “and your sword is hanging over me.” Fadl was, for a moment, like one convulsed: but by degrees he calmed his emotions, and, when he found himself master of his expressions, he said, “Make yourself easy; you are no longer my father’s murderer, but my guest;” and he forgave him.
Fadl’s friends assembled round him; they said to him, “Can you admit your father’s murderer into your tent? Kill him, and revenge your wrongs.” But Fadl replied, “Shall I kill the man who judges so nobly of me?” He called his secretary, and bade him write an engagement to pay every year to Ali and his descendants 50 piasters, which continued to be done until the time that Abd-el-Rasák related the story.
The following story will show from what trivial beginnings their deadly feuds may sometimes arise. Sidad is a village between Hems and Carietain, on the road to Palmyra. The inhabitants are Christians, and therefore, generally speaking, considered as fair objects of oppression by the Bedouins, who often vex them greatly. Their insulated situation in the Desert thus obliges them to depend on themselves for protection, and hence they have a martial and independent character unknown to the Christians of towns.
An Anizy, who was in a house at Sidad, wishing to fill his pipe, asked his host to lend him his tobacco-bag. “Stop,” said the host, “there is no tobacco in it, but I will go to my neighbour and borrow some.” He went out, and soon returned with his bag apparently replenished, and handed it to the Bedáwy; who thrust the pipe-bowl into the bag, and drew it out full of dry dung. “Do you mean to affront me?” said the Arab, his bosom swelling with indignation; “Kata ardak—we are twain from this moment.”
He mounted his mare, and rode off. When he arrived at his tents, he assembled his friends, and explained to them the gross insult that had been put upon him, inviting them to assist him in revenging his cause. An opportunity was not long wanting. One of the Sidad caravans was reported by the scouts of the Bedouins to be on its way to Palmyra. The Bedouins rode forth and attacked it. The caravanwas well armed, and made a stout resistance, but at last was dispersed and plundered. How many of the same caravan were killed or wounded, Abd-el-Rasák would not tell me; but Madame Lascaris, who happened to be on her return from Palmyra in the same caravan, and who gave me some particulars about it, said that all the men were stripped naked, and in that way entered Sidad. Hamed, son of Mahannah, was at the head of the party; and, knowing Madame Lascaris, respected her and her baggage; but her intercessions could do nothing for saving the effects of the caravan in general. She said that the attack and resistance were of short duration. One Bedáwy was killed by the fire; and, before they could load again, the Bedouins rode in upon them; and she saw two or three who resisted speared, but the others ran or surrendered. For the one Bedáwy killed, Mahannah demanded from the village of Sidad the price of his blood; and, to save themselves from a perpetual feud, they paid 2,000 piasters.
In one of my conversations with Abd-el-Rasák, I inquired after Mustafa Aga Duz Oglu, khasnadár of Mûly Ismael, the man who was under my care for a palsy at Mar Giorgius, or Dayr Hamýra. “He is dead,” said Abd-el-Rasák. “Did you know his wife, Aysha?” I asked. “She is dead, also,” cried he. “Heavens! and how?” I rejoined.
His story was as follows:—“You know she was once Mûly Ismael’s concubine (saryah), and that hegave her, when tired of her, in marriage to Mustafa Aga. He, poor fellow, was seized with apoplexy; and, after lingering some time, died. As he had amassed vast sums in his employment of treasurer, she feared that these, now become her own, would be taken from her by the Mûly, under some pretext, and she resolved to secure them by poisoning him.
“It is necessary to inform you that she had a paramour, one of thedelátydragoons, who instigated her, it was thought, in her foul purposes.” “I recollect such a man” (I observed) “coming to Dayr Hamýra whilst I was there, and seeming to be on a very familiar footing with Aysha.” “It is the same,” replied Abd-el-Rasák. “It was concerted between this man and herself that the poison should be bought at Aleppo, in order not to excite suspicion in Hamah. When it was procured, she endeavoured to bribe Merján, one of the Mûly’s black slaves,[83]promising to give him 500 piasters, if he would hand the Mûly a cup of coffee in which she should have previously put something; which he had agreed to do.
“The Mûly came one day to see her. Aysha made the coffee with her own hand, and contrived, unperceived, to drop in the poisonous powder. Merján took the cup, and, whilst in the act of presenting it tohis master, felt the terrors of a guilty conscience, and suddenly dashed it on the ground. ‘What do you do that for, you son of a w...?’ said the offended Mûly. ‘Effendim, there was brandy in the cup.’ ‘What!’ said the Mûly, whom a life of reverses had made readily suspicious, ‘there was something else: tell me, instantly, or I’ll have you bastinadoed to death.’ Merján, terrified, confessed the plot. Aysha was immediately seized and strangled, and then hanged upon a tree. The slave was rewarded by a large sum in money, and (which to an Osmanly is even more agreeable) was clad in a splendid suit of new clothes.”
Signor Volpi, coming at this time to Meshmûshy, dined with the Arabs and me. He still retained his European habits, and could not eat without a knife and fork. Long custom had now reconciled me, whenever there were Mahometans present, either to a spoon or even to my fingers, like them. Signor Volpi expressed a wish to see how the Bedouins ate in the Desert. I laid aside my spoon, and begged the Arabs to put themselves at their ease and do the same. They readily complied; and, forming the rice into pellets, they delivered it into their mouths quickly, and with more ease than with a spoon, which to them is a troublesome article. Not suspecting that there was anything extraordinary in their manner, they attached to my request another meaning: they thought that I was willing to seal the bondsof friendship between us still closer, than merely eating with a spoon out of the same dish together. He is determined (they whispered to each other) that it should be complete:byn-el-yedayn—“between both hands” will alone satisfy him.
On the 10th of October, the Arabs took their leave, furnished with letters to Mahannah; and, as to themselves, their pockets and even their wallets were filled. For the Bedouins, indeed I may say all the Turks in general expect, on quitting you, to have their tobacco-bags replenished, provisions given them, and to have nothing to dread from the contingencies of the day. I accompanied them to Abra, where they were to sleep: and, whilst we were smoking in my cottage, I made Abd-el-Rasák sit still, that I might endeavour to sketch his costume. Such was his wish to oblige me, that I saw huge drops of sweat running down his face from the fatigue of keeping the same posture: and he did not change it, until, out of pity, I begged him to do so. The next morning they took the coast road to Tripoli.
I was, for many reasons, compelled to question the accuracy of Volney’s account of the sensations experienced by the Bedouins on entering large towns, and approaching the sea. First of all, they are a race in whom you never can witness marks of sudden emotion, whether of astonishment or otherwise: and, in the next place, these very Bedouins, who came from a more inland Desert than those whom Daher broughtto Acre, still led me to think, in answer to my questions, that there were as few sights for them as for any one else. For had they not heard people often enough describe a ship, the sea, and whatever wonders they are thought to be ignorant of in the Desert?