Yesterday was the Bairam I rejoice to say and I have lots of physic to
make up, for all the stomachs damaged by Ramadan.
I have persuaded Mr. Fowler the engineer who was with Lord Dudley to take
my dear little pupil Achmet son of Ibn Mustapha to learn the business at
Leeds instead of idling in his father's house here. I will give the
child a letter to you in case he should go to London. He has been
reading the gospels with me at his own desire. I refused till I had
asked his father's consent, and Sheykh Yussuf who heard me begged me by
all means to make him read it carefully so as to guard him against the
heretical inventions he might be beset with among the English 'of the
vulgar sort.' What a poser for a missionary!
I sent down the poor black lad with Arakel Bey. He took leave of me with
his ugly face all blubbered like a sentimental hippopotamus. He said
'for himself, he wished to stay with me, but then what would his boy, his
little master do--there was only a stepmother who would take all the
money, and who else would work for the boy?' Little Achmet was charmed
to see Khayr go, of whom he chose to be horribly jealous, and to be wroth
at all he did for me. Now the Sheykh-el-Beled of Baidyeh has carried off
my watchman, and the Christian Sheykh-el-Hara of our quarter of Luxor has
taken the boy Yussuf for the Canal. The former I successfully resisted
and got back Mansoor, not indeed _incolumes_ for _he_ had been handcuffed
and bastinadoed to make _me_ pay 200 piastres, but he bore it like a man
rather than ask me for the money and was thereupon surrendered. But the
Copt will be a tougher business--he will want more money and be more
resolved to get it. _Veremus_. I must I suppose go to the Nazir at the
Canal--a Turk--and beg off my donkey boy.
[Picture: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon, from sketch by G. F. Watts, R.A.]
I saw Hassan Sheykh-el-Abab'deh yesterday, who was loud in praise of your
good looks and gracious manners. 'Mashallah, thy master is a sweet man,
O Lady!'
Yesterday was Bairam, and lots of Hareem came in their best clothes to
wish me a happy year and enjoyed themselves much with sweet cakes,
coffee, and pipes. Kursheed's wife (whom I cured completely) looked very
handsome. Kursheed is a Circassian, a fine young fellow much shot and
hacked about and with a Crimean medal. He is cawass here and a great
friend of mine. He says if I ever want a servant he will go with me
anywhere and fight anybody--which I don't doubt in the least. He was a
Turkish memlook and his condescension in wishing to serve a Christian
woman is astounding. His fair face and clear blue eyes, and brisk, neat,
soldier-like air contrast curiously with the brown fellaheen. He is like
an Englishman only fairer and like them too fond of the courbash. What
would you say if I appeared in Germany attended by a memlook with
pistols, sword, dagger, carbine and courbash, and with a decided and
imperious manner the very reverse of the Arab softness--and such a Muslim
too--prays five times a day and extra fasts besides Ramadan. 'I beat my
wife' said Kursheed, 'oh! I beat her well! she talked so, and I am like
the English, I don't like too many words.' He was quite surprised that I
said I was glad _my_ master didn't dislike talking so much.
I was talking the other day with Yussuf about people trying to make
converts and I said that eternal betise, 'Oh they mean well.' 'True, oh
Lady! perhaps they do mean well, but God says in the Noble Koran that he
who injures or torments those Christians whose conduct is not evil,
merely on account of religion, shall never smell the fragrance of the
Garden (paradise). Now when men begin to want to make others change
their faith it is extremely hard for them _not_ to injure or torment them
and therefore I think it better to abstain altogether and to wish rather
to see a Christian a good Christian and a Muslim a good Muslim.'
No wonder a most pious old Scotchman told me that the truth which
undeniably existed in the Mussulman faith was the work of Satan and the
Ulema his _meenesters_. My dear saint of a Yussuf a _meenester_ of
Satan! I really think I _have_ learnt some 'Muslim humility' in that I
endured the harangue, and accepted a two-penny tract quite mildly and
politely and didn't argue at all. As his friend 'Satan' would have it,
the Fikees were reading the Koran in the hall at Omar's expense who gave
a Khatmeh that day, and Omar came in and politely offered him some sweet
prepared for the occasion. I have been really amazed at several
instances of English fanaticism this year. Why do people come to a
Mussulman country with such bitter hatred 'in their stomachs' as I have
seen three or four times. I feel quite hurt often at the way the people
here thank me for what the poor at home would turn up their noses at. I
think hardly a dragoman has been up the river since Rashedee died but has
come to thank me as warmly as if I had done himself some great
service--and many to give some little present. While the man was ill
numbers of the fellaheen brought eggs, pigeons, etc. etc. even a turkey,
and food is worth money now, not as it used to be. I am quite weary too
of hearing 'Of all the Frangee I never saw one like thee.' Was no one
ever at all humane before? For remember I give no money--only a little
physic and civility. How the British cottagers would 'thank ye for
nothing'--and how I wish my neighbours here could afford to do the same.
After much wrangling Mustapha has got back my boy Yussuf but the
Christian Sheykh-el-Hara has made his brother pay 2 pounds whereat
Mohammed looks very rueful. Two hundred men are gone out of our village
to the works and of course the poor Hareem have not bread to eat as the
men had to take all they had with them. I send you a very pretty story
like Tannhauser.
There was once a man who loved a woman that lived in the same quarter.
But she was true to her husband, and his love was hopeless, and he
suffered greatly. One day as he lay on his carpet sick with love, one
came to him and said, O, such-a-one, thy beloved has died even now, and
they are carrying her out to the tomb. So the lover arose and followed
the funeral, and hid himself near the tomb, and when all were gone he
broke it open, and uncovered the face of his beloved, and looked upon
her, and passion overcame him, and he took from the dead that which when
living she had ever denied him.
But he went back to the city and to his house in great grief and anguish
of mind, and his sin troubled him. So he went to a Kadee, very pious and
learned in the noble Koran, and told him his case, and said, 'Oh my
master the Kadee, can such a one as I obtain salvation and the
forgiveness of God? I fear not.' And the Kadee gave him a staff of
polished wood which he held in his hand, and said 'Who knoweth the mercy
of God and his justice, but God alone--take then this staff and stick it
in the sand beside the tomb where thou didst sin and leave it the night,
and go next morning and come and tell me what thou shalt find, and may
the Lord pardon thee, for thy sin is great.'
And the man went and did as the Kadee had desired, and went again at
sunrise, and behold the staff had sprouted and was covered with leaves
and fruit. And he returned and told the Kadee what had happened, and the
Kadee replied, 'Praise be to God, the merciful, the compassionate.'