_To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon_.
_Wednesday_, _January_ 20, 1864.
I received your welcome letters of December 15 and 25 on Monday, to my
great joy, but was much grieved to hear of Thomas's death, and still more
so to hear from Janet that Thackeray and Mrs. Alison were dead. She died
the morning I left Cairo, so her last act almost was to send sweetmeats
to the boat after me on the evening before. Poor dear soul her sweetness
and patience were very touching. We have had a week of piercing winds,
and yesterday I stayed in bed, to the great surprise of Mustapha's little
girl who came to see me. To-day was beautiful again, and I mounted old
Mustapha's cob pony and jogged over his farm with him, and lunched on
delicious sour cream and _fateereh_ at a neighbouring village, to the
great delight of the _fellaheen_. It was more Biblical than ever; the
people were all relations of Mustapha's, and to see Sidi Omar, the head
of the household, and the 'young men coming in from the field,' and the
'flocks and herds and camels and asses,' was like a beautiful dream. All
these people are of high blood, and a sort of 'roll of Battle' is kept
here for the genealogies of the noble Arabs who came in with Amr--the
first Arab conqueror and lieutenant of Omar. Not one of these brown men,
who do not own a second shirt, would give his brown daughter to the
greatest Turkish Pasha. This country _noblesse_ is more interesting to
me by far than the town people, though Omar, who is quite a Cockney, and
piques himself on being 'delicate,' turns up his nose at their beggarly
pride, as Londoners used to do at bare-legged Highlanders. The air of
perfect equality--except as to the respect due to the head of the
clan--with which the villagers treated Mustapha, and which he fully
returned, made it all seem so very gentlemanly. They are not so dazzled
by a little show, and far more manly than the Cairenes. I am on visiting
terms with all the 'county families' resident in Luxor already. The
Nazir (magistrate) is a very nice person, and my Sheykh Yussuf, who is of
the highest blood (being descended from Abu-l-Hajjaj himself), is quite
charming. There is an intelligent little German here as Austrian Consul,
who draws nicely. I went into his house, and was startled by hearing a
pretty Arab boy, his servant, inquire, '_Soll ich den Kaffee bringen_?'
What next? They are all mad to learn languages, and Mustapha begs me and
Sally to teach his little girl Zeyneb English.
_Friday_, 22_nd_.--Yesterday I rode over to Karnac, with Mustapha's
_sais_ running by my side. Glorious hot sun and delicious air. To hear
the _sais_ chatter away, his tongue running as fast as his feet, made me
deeply envious of his lungs. Mustapha joined me, and pressed me to go to
visit the Sheykh's tomb for the benefit of my health, as he and Sheykh
Yussuf wished to say a _Fathah_ for me; but I must not drink wine at
dinner. I made a little difficulty on the score of difference of
religion, but Sheykh Yussuf, who came up, said that he presumed I
worshipped God, and not stones, and that sincere prayers were good
anywhere. Clearly the bigotry would have been on my side if I had
refused any longer. So in the evening I went with Mustapha. It was a
very curious sight, the little dome illuminated with as much oil as the
mosque could afford, and the tombs of Abu-l-Hajjaj and his three sons. A
magnificent old man, like Father Abraham himself, dressed in white, sat
on a carpet at the foot of the tomb; he was the head of the family of
Abu-l-Hajjaj. He made me sit by, and was extremely polite. Then came
the Nazir, the Kadee, a Turk travelling on Government business, and a few
other gentlemen, who all sat down round us after kissing the hand of the
old Sheykh. Everyone talked; in fact it was a _soiree_ for the
entertainment of the dead Sheykh. A party of men sat at the further end
of the place, with their faces to the Kibleh, and played on a
_taraboukeh_ (sort of small drum stretched on earthenware which gives a
peculiar sound), a tambourine without bells, and little tinkling cymbals
fitting on thumb and fingers (crotales), and chanted songs in honour of
Mohammed and verses from the Psalms of David. Every now and then one of
our party left off talking, and prayed a little or counted his beads.
The old Sheykh sent for coffee, and gave me the first cup--a wonderful
concession. At last the Nazir proposed a _Fathah_ for me, which the
whole group round me repeated aloud, and then each said to me, 'Our Lord
God bless and give thee health and peace, to thee and thy family, and
take thee back safe to thy master and thy children,' one adding _Ameen_
and giving the salaam with the hand. I returned it, and said, 'Our Lord
reward thee and all the people of kindness to strangers,' which was
considered a very proper answer. After that we went away, and the worthy
Nazir walked home with me to take a pipe and a glass of sherbet, and
enjoy a talk about his wife and eight children, who are all in
Foum-el-Bachr', except two boys at school in Cairo. Government
appointments are so precarious that it is not worth while to move them up
here, as the expense would be too heavy on a salary of 15 pounds a month,
with the chance of recall any day. In Cairo or Lower Egypt it would be
quite impossible for a Christian to enter a Sheykh's tomb at all--above
all on his birthday festival and on the night of Friday.
_Friday_, _January_ 29.--I have been too unwell to write all this week,
but will finish this to-day to send off by Lady Herbert's boat. The last
week has been very cold here, the thermometer at 59 and 60 degrees, with
a nipping wind and bright sun. I was obliged to keep my bed for three or
four days, as of course a _palazzo_ without doors or windows to speak of
was very trying, though far better than a boat. Yesterday and to-day are
much better, not really much warmer, but a different air.
The _moolid_ (festival) of the Sheykh terminated last Saturday with a
procession, in which the new cover of his tomb, and the ancient sacred
boat, were carried on men's shoulders. It all seemed to have walked out
of the royal tombs, only dusty and shabby instead of gorgeous. These
festivals of the dead are such as Herodotus alludes to as held in honour
of 'Him whose name he dares not mention--Him who sleeps in Philae,' only
the name is changed and the mummy is absent.
For a fortnight everyone who had a horse and could ride came and 'made
fantasia' every afternoon for two hours before sunset; and very pretty it
was. The people here show their good blood in their riding. On the last
three days all strangers were entertained with bread and cooked meat at
the expense of the Luxor people; every house killed a sheep and baked
bread. As I could not do that for want of servants enough, I sent 100
piastres (12s) to the servants of Abu-l-Hajjaj at the mosque to pay for
the oil burnt at the tomb, etc. I was not well and in bed, but I hear
that my gift gave immense satisfaction, and that I was again well prayed
for. The Coptic Bishop came to see me, but he is a tipsy old monk and an
impudent beggar. He sent for tea as he was ill, so I went to see him,
and perceived that his disorder was arrakee. He has a very nice black
slave, a Christian (Abyssinian, I think), who is a friend of Omar's, and
who sent Omar a handsome dinner all ready cooked; among other things a
chicken stuffed with green wheat was excellent. Omar constantly gets
dinners sent him, a lot of bread, some dates and cooked fowls or pigeons,
and _fateereh_ with honey, all tied up hot in a cloth. I gave an old
fellow a pill and dose some days ago, but his _dura ilia_ took no notice,
and he came for more, and got castor-oil. I have not seen him since, but
his employer, _fellah_ Omar, sent me a lot of delicious butter in return.
I think it shows great intelligence in these people, how none of them
will any longer consult an Arab _hakeem_ if they can get a European to
physic them. They now ask directly whether the Government doctors have
been to Europe to learn _Hekmeh_, and if not they don't trust them--for
poor 'savages' and 'heathens' _ce n'est pas si bete_. I had to interrupt
my lessons from illness, but Sheykh Yussuf came again last night. I have
mastered _Abba shedda o mus beteen_--_ibbi shedda o heftedeen_, etc. Oh
dear, what must poor Arab children suffer in learning ABC! It is a
terrible alphabet, and the _shekel_ (points) are _desesperants_; but now
I stick for want of a dictionary.
Mr. Arrowsmith kindly gave me Miss Martineau's book, which I have begun.
It is true as far as it goes, but there is the usual defect--the people
are not real people, only part of the scenery to her, as to most
Europeans. You may conceive how much we are naturalized when I tell you
that I have received a serious offer of marriage for Sally. Mustapha
A'gha has requested me to 'give her to him' for his eldest son Seyyid, a
nice lad of nineteen or twenty at most. As Mustapha is the richest and
most considerable person here, it shows that the Arabs draw no
unfavourable conclusions as to our morals from the freedom of our
manners. He said of course she would keep her own religion and her own
customs. Seyyid is still in Alexandria, so it will be time to refuse
when he returns. I said she was too old, but they think that no
objection at all. She will have to say that her father would not allow
it, for of course a handsome offer deserves a civil refusal. Sally's
proposals would be quite an ethnological study; Mustapha asked what I
should require as dowry for her. Fancy Sally as Hareem of the
Sheykh-el-Beled of Luxor!
I am so charmed with my house that I begin seriously to contemplate
staying here all the time. Cairo is so dear now, and so many dead cattle
are buried there, that I think I should do better in this place. There
is a huge hall, so large and cold now as to be uninhabitable, which in
summer would be glorious. My dear old captain of steamer XII. would
bring me up coffee and candles, and if I 'sap' and learn to talk to
people, I shall have plenty of company.
The cattle disease has not extended above Minieh to any degree, and here
there has not been a case. _Alhamdulillah_! Food is very good here,
rather less than half Cairo prices even now; in summer it will be half
that. Mustapha urges me to stay, and proposes a picnic of a few days
over in the tombs with his Hareem as a diversion. I have got a photo,
for a stereoscope, which I send you, of my two beloved, lovely palm-trees
on the river-bank just above and looking over Philae.
Hitherto my right side has been the bad one, but now one side is uneasy
and the other impossible to lie on. It does not make one sleep
pleasantly, and the loss of my good, sound sleep tries me, and so I don't
seem well. We shall see what hot weather will do; if that fails I will
give up the contest, and come home to see as much as I shall have time
for of you and my chicks.