[Illustration:
LADY HESTER STANHOPE’S RESIDENCE AT JOON, ON MOUNT LEBANON
London, Henry Colburn, 1845
Day & Haghe, Lithʳᵉ to the Queen]
MEMOIRS
OF THE
LADY HESTER STANHOPE,
AS RELATED BY HERSELF
IN CONVERSATIONS WITH HER
PHYSICIAN;
COMPRISING
HER OPINIONS AND ANECDOTES OF
SOME OF THE MOST REMARKABLE PERSONS
OF HER TIME.
All such writings and discourses as touch no man will mend no
man.--TYERS’S _Rhapsody on Pope_.
Second Edition.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. III.
LONDON:
HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER,
GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
1846.
FREDERICK SHOBERL, JUNIOR,
PRINTER TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE ALBERT,
51, RUPERT STREET, HAYMARKET, LONDON.
CONTENTS
OF
THE THIRD VOLUME.
* * * * *
CHAPTER I.
Prince Pückler Muskau--His letter to Lady Hester Stanhope--Story
of the Serpent’s Cave--Letter from Lady Hester to the Prince--
Ride from Jôon to Sayda--Cadi’s Justice--Madame Conti--Syrian
surgeons 1
CHAPTER II.
Mehemet Ali’s hospitality to travellers--Prince Pückler Muskau’s
appreciation of it--His reception of the Author--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 29
CHAPTER III.
Lady Hester’s mode of life--Boghoz Bey--The insurrection of
the Druzes--Character of the Emir Beshýr--Ibrahim Pasha--Lady
Charlotte Bury--Preparations for the reception of Prince Pückler
Muskau 50
CHAPTER IV.
Prince Pückler Muskau’s arrival at Jôon--His costume--Physiognomical
doctrines--The Prince’s remarks on Lady Hester--Dr. Bowring--Lady
Hester’s remarks on the Prince--Race of Abyssinian women--Remarks
on public grants, &c.--The polytheistic school of Germany--Remarks
on pensions, on Abyssinian slaves, &c.--Story of Sultan Abdallah,
the negro--Excursion on horseback--Horse-jockeys in Syria--Servants’
vails--Lord M. and Captain G.--Talismanic charm about Lady Hester--
Her visions of greatness 73
CHAPTER V.
Prince Pückler Muskau’s style of writing--Talking beneficial to
health--Young men of Lady Hester’s time--Lady Hester’s superstitious
belief in good and bad days--Hamâady, the executioner--His
importance--Folly of education, according to Lady Hester--Lord
Hood, Lord Bridport, Payne, the smuggler’s son--the O****s--The
Prince’s self-invitations to dine out--B.--Prince Pückler and old
Pierre--The American Commodore--Lady Hester’s cats--Mahomet Ali’s
secret devices 107
CHAPTER VI.
Author’s dilemma--Apprehensions of poisoning--Mr. Cooper’s
dray-boy--Memoirs of a Peeress--Lady B. and the Duchess of----
Novel scheme for making maids obedient--English servants--Lady
J.--Lord C.--Mr. Pitt, and the disturbed state of England--Peers
made by Mr. Pitt--Footmen’s nosegays--Mr. Pitt’s last words, as
related by Gifford--Melancholy reflections--Mr. Pitt’s
signature--Mr. Pitt a Statesman inferior to Lord Chatham--Mr.
Fox--Sir Walter Scott--Shaykh Mohammed Nasýb--Turkish dervises--
Anecdote of Sir William Pynsent--Sir John Dyke--High and low
descent exemplified in Captain--and Count Rewisky--Lady Charlotte
Bury--The Empress Josephine--Buonaparte--Mr. Pitt’s physiognomy--
Advantageous offers refused by Lady Hester--Her house in Montague
Square--The Cheshire Squire--Ingratitude of the world--Trust not
in man, but in God 128
CHAPTER VII.
Journey to Beyrout--Death of Mrs. K--- --Mr. George Robinson
and M. Guys--The River Damoor--Khaldy--Letter from Lady Hester
to Mr. K.--Lord Prudhoe--Mrs. Moore--Lady Hester’s dislike to
be the subject of occasional poetry--Striking a Turk--Lady
Hester’s opinion of Lord Byron--Arrival of Maximilian Duke of
Bavaria--Letter to the Baron de Busech--Letter to H.R H. the
Duke Maximilian--Adventures of the Duke--Illness of the Duke’s
negro, Wellington--Vexation of His Royal Highness--Letter to Mr.
K., merchant at Beyrout--Letter to Lord Brougham--Professional
visit to Sulyman Pasha’s child--League between the maids
and receivers of stolen goods--Black doses for the Prince’s
suite--Letter from Lady Hester to the Duke of Bavaria on his
intended visit--The Duke leaves Syria 171
CHAPTER VIII.
Petty annoyances in hot countries--Lady Hester refuses Duke
Maximilian’s portrait--She insists on the Author’s leaving
her--Continuation of the negro Wellington’s case--Progress of the
Druze insurrection--Destruction of locusts--Mysterious visit at
the Dar--Reasons why Lady Hester kept daring fellows in her
service--Russian spies--Dr. Lœve’s visit--Dangerous state of the
country--Lady Hester’s dream--Her resolution to immure herself--
Visit from Mr. M.--Visit from Colonel Hazeta and Dr. Mill--Letter
from Lord Palmerston to Lady Hester--Her answer--Inexpediency of
having consular agents, not natives of the country they represent--
Successes of the Druzes--Lady Hester’s belief in fortune-telling--
Letter from Sir Francis Burdett--Colonel Needham’s property--Lord
Coutts--Subscribers to pay Mr. Pitt’s debts--Fright from a
serpent--Battle of Yanta--Sir N. Wraxall a peer--Discourse upon
heads--A spy--Letter to the Duke Maximilian of Bavaria 225
CHAPTER IX.
Vessel hired for the Author’s departure--Lady Hester’s intention
of writing her Memoirs--Letter from Lady Hester to Sir Francis
Burdett--From Lady Hester to Count Wilsensheim--Events of the
Druze insurrection--Inexpediency of M. Guys’s removal from
Beyrout--Letter from the Author to Count Wilsensheim--Letter
from Lady Hester Stanhope to the Baron de Busech--Lady Hester
immured--Principal reason of the Author’s return to Europe--His
adieux--Passage to Cyprus--Reception by Signor Baldassare
Mattei--Provisions in Cyprus--Mademoiselle Longchamps--Letter
from Lady Hester to the Author--Commissions--Second Letter from
Lady Hester to the Author--Third Letter from Lady Hester to the
Author--Advice--Obligations--Violence of temper--Mr.
U.--General Loustaunau--Logmagi and the muleteer--Fourth Letter
from Lady Hester to the Author--Correspondence of the first Lord
Chatham--Lady Hester’s death--Conclusion 271
MEMOIRS
OF
LADY HESTER STANHOPE.
* * * * *
CHAPTER I.
Prince Pückler Muskau--His letter to Lady Hester Stanhope--Story of the
Serpent’s Cave--Letter from Lady Hester to the Prince--Ride from Jôon
to Sayda--Cadi’s Justice--Madame Conti--Syrian surgeons.
March 20.--Lady Hester rose about three in the afternoon, and went
into her garden: I joined her about five o’clock. Spring had already
begun to display its verdant livery. The weather was exceedingly fine,
and every bush and tree seemed to have swollen with sap, buds, and
leaves, so that the eye could perceive a palpable difference even from
the preceding day. The birds were singing on every branch (for nobody
dared to molest them in this sacred spot), and the bulbuls sat
warbling a low but gentle music, which, now and then, was broken in
upon by their clear whistle, falling in cadences on the ear like sweet
concords. It was one of those hours which a man, who feels himself in
the decline of life, or gradually sinking under disease, would most
regret, in thinking that the harmony of nature must soon close on him
for ever.
Lady Hester had placed herself in a small white alcove, which closed
the vista at the bottom of a walk. A sofa, covered with marone-coloured
cloth, with flowered chintz cushions, ran across the back of the
alcove. On this she was leaning; and, being dressed in her white
_abah_ with its large folds, she looked exactly like an antique statue
of a Roman matron. Half way up the avenue stood an attendant in a
handsome white Nizàm dress, which is exceedingly becoming to youth,
waiting her call. As I advanced towards her, between two hedges--the
one of double jessamine in full bud, and the other of the bright green
_pervenche_, or periwinkle-plant, with its blue flowers, forming an
azure band from one end to the other, I was struck with the magical
illusion which she ever contrived to throw around herself in the
commonest circumstances of life.
As I approached, she addressed me with more cheerfulness than usual.
“Do you know, doctor, that Prince Pückler Muskau is come to Sayda, and
has written me a very agreeable, and what appears to be a very
sincere, letter. Read it, and say what you think of it.” Translated, it
was as follows:
_Prince Pückler Muskau to Lady Hester Stanhope._
March 20th, 1838.
My Lady,
As I am aware that you are but little fond of strangers’
visits, from having often found they proceeded from idle
curiosity, and sometimes even from more illiberal motives, I
freely confess, madam, it is not without some degree of
apprehension that, in my turn, I solicit permission to pay
my respects to you. Permit me, nevertheless, to assure you
that, for many years past, I have anticipated in fancy the
pleasure of knowing you, and that it would be a downright
act of cruelty on your part, if now, when the long
wished-for moment is at last arrived, you should refuse me
the happiness of paying my homage to the queen of Palmyra
and the niece of the great Pitt.
Besides, madam, I have the presumption to add that, from
what I have heard of you, there must exist some affinity of
character between us: for, like you, my lady, I look for our
future salvation from the East, where nations still nearer
to God and to nature can alone, some one day, purify the
rotten civilization of decrepit Europe, in which everything
is artificial, and where we are menaced, in a short time,
with a new kind of barbarism--not that with which states
begin, but with which they end. Like you, madam, I believe
that astrology is not an empty science, but a lost one. Like
you, madam, I am an aristocrat by birth and in principle;
because I find a marked aristocracy in nature everywhere. In
a word, madam, like you, I love to sleep by day and be
stirring by night. There I stop; for, in mind, energy of
character, and in the mode of life, so singular and so
dignified, which you lead, not every one that would can
resemble Lady Hester Stanhope.
I close this letter, which already must appear too long to
you, in earnestly entreating you not to set down as mere
expressions the dictates of a heart artless and ingenuous,
though old. I am neither a Frenchman nor an Englishman: I
am but an honest and simple German, who perhaps lies open
to the charge of too much enthusiasm, but never to that of
flattery or insincerity.
[Signed] PRINCE OF PUCKLER MUSKAU.
PS. Should you consent to my coming, might I presume to beg
of you still farther to allow me to bring Count Tattenbach,
a young man in my employ, who would be so much hurt to see
me set off without him that I am induced to risk the
request! Although severely wounded from a pistol-shot, he
would not remain at Acre, for fear of losing the opportunity
of paying his homage to you: nevertheless, your will, my
lady, and not mine, be done in everything.
* * * * *
When I had finished reading the letter, Lady Hester resumed: “Now,
doctor, you must go and see the prince at Sayda, for I can’t see him
myself. The fatigue is too great for the present; but I will engage
him to return again when I am better. I could wish you to say many
things to him; for I can see that he and I shall do very well
together: besides, I must be very civil to him; for he has got such a
tongue and such a pen! I think I shall invite him to come and see the
garden and the horses; but you must tell him the mare’s back is not
only like a natural saddle, but that there are two back bones for a
spine; that is the most curious part.--But no! if he comes it will
fill my house with people, and I shall be worried to death; it will
only make me ill: so I’ll write to him after dinner.
“What I would wish you to talk to him about is principally the
serpent’s cave. You must tell him that, at ten or twelve hours’
distance from Tarsûs, there is a grotto, where once lived an enormous
serpent with a human head, such as he may have seen in paintings
representing the temptation of Eve. This serpent was possessed of all
the skill in demonology and magic known on earth. There was an ancient
sage who was desirous of acquiring this serpent’s wisdom, which he
knew could be come at by destroying the serpent: he therefore induced
the king of the country in which the grotto is situate to enter into
his views, and, by the king’s orders, the neighbouring peasantry were
assembled for that purpose. The sage, who had given instructions that,
in killing the serpent, they were to proceed in a particular manner,
and that the head was to be reserved for him, stationed himself not
far off: and when the peasants went as usual to carry his food,
intending to seize a proper moment for effecting the destruction of so
formidable a reptile, the serpent, being gifted with the power of
speech, said, ‘I know what you are come for; you are come to take my
life. I am aware that I am fated to die now, and I shall not oppose
it: but, in killing me, beware how you follow the instructions which
the wicked man who sent you gave--do exactly the reverse.’ The
peasants obeyed the serpent; and, doing precisely the reverse of what
the sage had enjoined them to do, the king too died, and thus met the
reward of his treacherous conduct. Since that time no other serpent
has appeared with a human head, but several are living in the same
grotto, and they still are fed by the neighbouring villages, which
send the food at stated times, and the people have opportunities of
seeing them with their own eyes.
“You must tell the prince that this story is perfectly authentic, and
that, since the time of Sultan Mûrad down to the present day, certain
villages are exempted from taxes in consideration of providing
sustenance for the serpents. As he naturally must wish to inquire into
and see so remarkable a phenomenon, you may tell him that, if he puts
himself into a boat, he can land at Tarsûs or Swadéya, and thence find
his way a few hours’ distance farther, where the grotto is.”
I hung my head during the whole of this story, reflecting what a
pretty errand I was going upon--to tell with a serious air a story so
devoid of probability, and so likely to strengthen the supposition,
common in England and elsewhere, that Lady Hester was crazy. She
observed my ill-concealed incredulity, and bawled out rather than
said, “Do you understand what I have been telling you? I suppose
you’ll tell me I am mad. Do you believe these things or not? why don’t
you answer?” As I remained mute, she said, “Well, will you repeat them
to the prince as I have related them?” I answered, “Yes, I would do
that.”--“But there,” said she, “go to dinner now, and come again in
the evening: I suppose you are thinking more of your soup getting cold
than of anything else.”
It was now sunset, and I found my family waiting dinner for me: but
that was a very common occurrence, and excited no surprise. Having
dined, I returned to Lady Hester. She was in the drawing-room, and she
immediately renewed the subject of the grotto.
“The king’s name,” said she, “was Tarsenus--he gave the name to
Tarsûs, or took his from it, I don’t know which. You must not forget
to speak to the prince likewise of the dervises’ monastery, called
Sultan Ibrahim, which is near Tripoli. He has only to present himself
there, and use my name; they are all like my brothers; they have many
learned men amongst them: if he wants a letter to them, I’ll give him
one. As for the Ansaréas, the Ishmäelites, the Kelbëas, and all the
sects on the mountains between Tripoli and Latakia, he will get
nothing out of them; so it is of no use his trying. If he returns to
Jerusalem, beg him not to extend his excursions towards the back of
the Dead Sea, or beyond the Jordan; for, as he is known to be a friend
of Mahomet Ali’s, some Arab behind a rock may pick him off, just out
of spite to Ibrahim Pasha.”
Lady Hester went on. “Did you perfectly understand what I said before
dinner about the serpents?” “Not altogether,” I replied. “Perhaps,”
she observed, “you don’t like to go down to the prince?” I replied,
anxious to seize any excuse for getting rid of the serpent story, “I
can’t say I have any particular wish to go.”--“Why,” said Lady Hester,
“you have done nothing but talk about him for these last five months;
what was that for, if you don’t want to see him?”--“I talked about
him,” answered I, “because I thought, from what I had read of his
works, you would be pleased to see him, if he came this way?”
Lady Hester paused a little while, and then proceeded:--“Well, doctor,
look here--you will talk a great deal about the serpents, and, when
you can see a proper opportunity, and that nobody is likely to hear
you, you will say to the prince in a low voice, ‘Lady Hester
recommends you to make some inquiries about the serpents’ cave[1] when
you are at Beyrout; for near to Tarsûs is _Kolôok Bogàz_, where
Ibrahim Pasha’s army is encamped: you will probably like to see it,
and this will be a good excuse, as everybody then will fancy you had
no political motive for going there.’”
The mystery was out; for two or three months Lady Hester had been
introducing the story of the human-headed serpent into her
conversations; for two or three months she had known of Prince Pückler
Muskau’s coming; for the same period I had entertained apprehensions
that her reason was impaired: M. Guys had been primed in the same way,
and formed the same conclusions; and all turned out to be one of those
long-laid plots, for which she was so famous, to save the prince from
being considered as a spy in the dangerous neighbourhood of two
hostile armies.
It had happened some years before, when the prince’s letters on
England were first translated, I, being in London, had noticed the
work in a letter to her, and had copied out a few observations on
herself made to the prince by a Hanoverian gentleman. Subsequently,
when with her, I had spoken of the prince’s increasing reputation as a
literary man, and mentioned such particulars of him as had come to my
knowledge. All this, and his alliance with the family of Prince
Hardenberg, with whom Lady Hester had been acquainted, increased her
desire to see him: but how to accomplish it now was the difficulty.
The few hours she spent with M. Guys had done her a great deal of
harm; for, being obliged to exert herself, and not being able to treat
a guest as unceremoniously as she could me, the exertion proved too
much for her strength. “Englishmen,” she said, “are fond of turning
everything into ridicule, and of saying spiteful things of me; with
the French and foreigners in general, it is not so: and with a man of
the world, like the prince, I have nothing to fear on that score; but
then how am I to lodge him and accommodate his people and his dinners,
with a wretched cook and nothing of any sort fit for a man of rank!
No, doctor, it will not do: so sit down, and write and tell him so.”
The following letter was the result. It was in French; but, as her
ladyship’s French was sometimes worded without much regard to genders
and tenses, although in her expressions nobody could be happier, it
will be better to give a translation.
_Lady Hester Stanhope to the Prince of Pückler
Muskau, at Sayda._
Jôon, March 21, 1838.
I trust, Prince, you will believe me when I say, I am
overwhelmed with regret that my health will not permit of my
having, at this moment, the honour of making the
acquaintance of a philosopher and a philanthropist such as
you are. You may ask everybody whether, for these last five
months, I have seen a single soul, excepting Monsieur Guys
once; and, although, in that once, I every now and then
retired for a few moments to my room to recover myself, and
then returned to him again, yet, after he was gone, I had a
relapse for some days. I would willingly purchase at the
same price the pleasure of seeing you; but, in doing so, it
might incapacitate me for some months longer from managing a
very disagreeable business that has sprung up between the
Queen, the English government, and myself; they pretending
to meddle with my affairs, which, be assured, is what I will
not allow.
As my natural energy would not suffer me to converse
tranquilly, when things sublime and of the highest
importance would be our subjects, we must give up meeting
each other for the present; but I console myself with the
hope that your Highness will not leave Syria, until I have
had an opportunity of appreciating a man, different they say
from other men, and of making the acquaintance of your young
Count, who, in devoting himself to your principles,
necessarily secures one’s admiration of his character.
(Signed) HESTER LUCY STANHOPE.
PS. If you go to Damascus, do not neglect, in your way, to
stop at a village named Hamâna, where Sultan Mûrad once
halted. A very extraordinary and interesting story is
attached to his stay there. Farther, do not forget to see
the place at Damascus, where the Forty Sleepers (_Welled el
Kaf_) and their black dogs are entranced: they will awake at
the time that we are looking forward to.
I send my doctor to you, who is a very good sort of a man,
but is no philosopher, like you and me. He can give you some
little information on certain curious things in the north of
Syria, which no traveller has yet investigated.
HESTER LUCY STANHOPE.
* * * * *
This letter was despatched by the government estafette, who had
brought the prince’s letter; and it was settled that I should pay the
prince a visit this morning after breakfast, for it was now two hours
after midnight.
March 21.--But just before setting off, Lady Hester altered her mind.
An answer had come from Beyrout to a note I had written to Mr.
Forster, saying he should reach Sayda on the 21st, at night, and leave
it on the 22nd in the morning. It therefore suited better to combine
two objects, and pay both visits together.
Prince Pückler Muskau, in the mean time, was unwilling to leave Sayda
without a positive assurance from Lady Hester Stanhope that she would
see him within a short time. Towards sunset, another estafette came,
with a second letter from him, which, however, she did not suffer me
to see. She merely said, “Doctor, the Prince won’t be put off; he
renews his solicitations, and consents to go to a distance, and return
again at the end of a week or ten days: so we must write him another
letter.” This was as follows:
_Lady Hester Stanhope to the Prince of Pückler Muskau._
Jôon, March 21, 1838.
I find your highness to be a great philosopher, but
nevertheless a very unreasonable man. Is your object, in
coming here, to laugh at a poor creature, reduced by
sickness to skin and bone, who has lost half her sight and
all her teeth, or is it to hear true philosophy? Alas, at
this moment, a terrible cough puts it out of my power even
to speak during the greater part of the twenty-four hours.
But I will not be stubborn; and, if you will consent to put
off your visit for eight or ten days, I will receive you
then, even if my health should be no better, that you may
fulfil the object of your visit. However, I hope, as the
fine weather is at hand, and as I now begin to get a little
sleep, which I have not done for many months past, that I
shall be able to converse with you for some hours at a time.
It appears that you beg me to give you the history of
Hafânah, if it is but piecemeal; but it is too long a one to
put down on paper.[2]
If you believe me, it is with regret that I am obliged to
cross you; but I am convinced you would be the last man not
to be sorry, if, from a degree of enthusiasm natural to me,
which would be increased in finding in you sentiments
analogous to my own, I should become excited, and fall anew
into sufferings from which I am but just recovering.
Sunday, Monday, Thursday, and Friday, will be the days most
propitious for our first meeting: I should prefer Sunday or
Thursday, according to the calculation I have made of your
star and your character: so, Prince, depart in peace; only,
when you return, write a little before, to apprize me of it.
HESTER LUCY STANHOPE.
* * * * *
March 22.--The above letter was despatched by the estafette early in
the morning, in the expectation that it would reach the Prince time
enough to enable him to set off for Beyrout the same day. It was
settled between Lady Hester and myself, that, having to meet Mr.
Forster and Mr. Knox, I should afterwards call on the Prince. “Then,
doctor,” said Lady Hester, “you will be enabled to give me a
description of his person, look, manners, &c.” So anxious was she
that I should not miss him, that her manservant was at my door at
sunrise, to see that I did not oversleep myself, although it was past
three o’clock in the morning before I had retired to bed. Fatigue and
want of rest were thoughts that never crossed her active mind, or, if
they did, she pretended to forget them. Half an hour after sunrise I
was on horseback, and on my road to Sayda.
The morning was beautiful. The shelving sides of the mountains, across
which the path lay, just began to show forth the blades of corn with
which they were generally sown. The birds carolled; the goats were
browsing on the rocks; the village girls, with their water-pitchers on
their heads, models of elegance for a statuary, were going slowly in
groups to the spring. Not a breath of air, and not a cloud disturbed
the serenity of the atmosphere. Before me an active lad, as walking
groom, according to the custom of the country, led the way, with a
pace as light as the antelope’s.
The road, with various windings, from a height of some five hundred
feet above the level of the sea, descends, after a two hours’ ride, to
the river Ewelly, where, on crossing a bridge of no very ancient
construction, the traveller enters the orchards of Sayda, which
continue, for a distance of another hour, to the gates of the city.
Close by the bridge stands a rude caravanserai, where travellers halt
for a cup of coffee, to smoke a pipe, or, when the gates of the city
are shut, which is always at two hours after sunset, to pass the
night. A soldier or two may be generally seen squatted on the broad
stone bench, or _mustaby_, as it is called, in front of the
caravanserai, or khan, the more common name. These military loiterers
are not such idlers as they seem, for they come here to watch for
deserters, keeping a keen look-out upon all passengers that arrive by
this road, and exercising, in fact, the scrutiny of a vigilant police,
although with such apparent carelessness that it would be impossible
for strangers to suspect their object.
Near the khan, about fifty yards higher up the river, is a water-mill,
on the flat roof of which may be seen wheat just washed and spread out
to dry, previous to being ground, and dozens of donkeys, with sacks of
wheat or flour on their backs, coming and going to and from the mill
and the city. Clumps of oleander bushes are scattered over the
alluvial parts by the river side, and mulberry-tree plantations cover
its banks.
I received a quiet _salâam_ of recognition from two or three persons
as I passed on; for here I was better known than I should have been at
the same distance from my native place. Over the bridge the road turns
short to the right, and follows the seashore; an upper road inclines
to the left, along the foot of the mountain, the track for those who
would proceed to Tyr without entering Sayda. The space between the
two, which is thickly covered with orchards and gardens, in the widest
part may be nearly half a mile broad. The Mediterranean presented an
unruffled deep blue expanse of waters, with here and there a
_shakhtoor_ lying as still on its bosom as in a picture.
Under the old and venerable sycamore, which I now remembered for five
and twenty years, sat some peasant women, resting themselves on their
way from the villages to the city, whose brown and uncovered bosoms
contrasted unpleasantly with their intelligent and fine features and
their white teeth. But they were bearers of heavy loads, and
field-labour and the heat had made restraint irksome to them. Now and
then a beautiful girl of fourteen or fifteen might be singled out from
among them, whose well-turned ancle and finely-shaped foot, where not
an inequality disfigured the beauty of the toes--whose rounded arm and
taper fingers, with a form and face all Eastern, and her chemise
buttoned with a little coquetry high up the neck--with her white
pantaloons embroidered at the ancles, and silver rings round her legs
and wrists--would arrest one’s attention, whilst the action of drawing
her veil closer to her face seemed to signify that the passing glance
of admiration had not escaped her. Farther on, a long train of Druze
women, known by the horns on their heads, from which their long veils,
half crape half cotton, were suspended with more graceful folds, were
seen winding along the sands, on their way to the Mountain, probably
the harým of one of the numerous emirs or princes who inhabit Mount
Lebanon. As I passed them they carefully drew their veils across their
faces, and peered at me from one eye[3] with all the curiosity
belonging to their sex. They were mounted on mules and asses, and
their silk and brocaded dresses, with their cloth mantles, the
trappings of their beasts, and the demeanour of their attendants,
denoted them to be ladies of some rank.
Passing the _Sebat ayôon_, or Seven Springs, a clear rivulet of water
which rises about a hundred and fifty yards from the seashore--the
_Shemaôony_, where is a vaulted building enclosing the tombs of some
ancient pashas, and also, as the tradition goes, that of one of the
grandsons of Abraham--I approached the town. Close to the gate, but
still in the suburbs, are two or three tombs held in great reverence,
where some devout Mussulmans may generally be found in the attitude of
prayer. Turning the corner by the barracks, I nodded to the
blacksmith, who for many years had shod Lady Hester’s horses, and
entered the city-gate. A few guards as usual were seated on the
outside, and heaps of oranges and vegetables, the property of the
gardeners, who had come with their daily supply for sale, were
scattered about in such quantities, that it required some little
attention to steer through them, without treading on the people who
were squatted here and there on the ground in perfect confusion.
I rode to the French khan, to put up my horse; and, giving him to be
tethered in the quadrangle under the shade of some lofty trees, I
directed my steps to the house of one Lufloofy, where English
travellers, on passing through Sayda, generally lodge for the night.
For the good old times are gone by, when consuls’ houses were open for
the reception of strangers, and the hospitality they received was
thought to be sufficiently repaid by the pleasure which the
conversation of a European, fresh from Christendom, was thought to
afford.
I found that Messieurs Knox and Forster had passed through the
preceding day, leaving a message of regret behind that they were
obliged to resume their journey without seeing me. Returning after
breakfast to the French khan, I waited upon the French consular agent,
Monsieur Conti, in the hope of learning something of the prince’s
movements. Having satisfied myself that he would not depart until the
next day, I passed the morning very agreeably with Madame Conti, a
lady remarkable for her conversational vivacity. A glance at the
topics that make up the conversation in a gossiping visit of this sort
in ancient Sidon may possibly afford some amusement to the English
reader.
“You are a very bad neighbour, Mr. Doctor: we hardly ever see you now;
and you have never yet brought your family here. You know this house
is yours, and not ours: but then the air of the Mountain is so pure,
and the road is so bad, that I don’t wonder at their seldom quitting
it. We have had a very charming traveller here, who called on us in
his way through--a man of most highly polished manners and agreeable
address.”[4]
“Yes,” interrupted the husband: “I gave him such information as I
could respecting the antiquities he would find between this place and
Tyr, and I would have procured him a guide, but the nizàm has taken
off all our idle fellows; so I advised him to address himself to the
first peasant he met when he got near Sarfend (Sarpentum), and thus he
would be able to see a particular grotto I directed him to.”
“Oh!” said the mistress of the house, “it is that very curious grotto,
the subterranean chamber, the walls of which are painted over
with”--(I must suppress her expression, admissible in Italian, but
hardly tolerable to English ears)--“they say that the inhabitants
thereabouts used to worship these symbols; and even now the Ansaréas
retain the same profane worship, which has continued down to them from
the days when the inhabitants of these countries adored Astarte.
Strange indeed are these aberrations of the human intellect! The name
of the grotto is _Megâara el bizàz_.”
M. Conti resumed--“The prince is not like the English; he does not
even inquire about antiquities: he only spoke to me of Bâalbec.”
Some fish, fresh from the net, were brought in for sale. The mistress,
for her family, and I, for mine, each bought two fine ones at the rate
of fourpence the oka (4lbs.). Just before, there came in a Turk, who
sat down without being asked to do so, and as soon as there was a
break in the conversation, addressed himself to M. Conti about some
property in litigation in the cadi’s office. “That man,” said the
mistress of the house in Italian, which, of course, the Turk did not
understand, “is an _imàm_, and the cadi’s clerk: he is talking about
justice. Do you know what he calls justice! it is this. When my
husband has any suit, which he and the cadi have to decide, and he
comes to talk it over, I take an opportunity, and hold up one or more
fingers, as the importance of the affair may require. He has a pretty
quick eye, and he understands the number of fingers to mean so many
_khyreeas_” (gold pieces of money) “as a present for himself and
master if the business should be settled in our favour. If he has not
been bribed higher, before the end of the week you may be sure how the
case will go.”
The imàm addressed himself to me, and said that the Syt (her ladyship)
had always been accustomed to give forty piasters a year to his mosque
for charity, and, he did not know why, for the last two years, her
donation had been discontinued. “I tell Logmagi of it,” added he, “but
he always puts me off by saying he has forgotten to mention it: and
now, when I meet him in the street, he thinks, I suppose, that I am
going to bother him about it, and looks another way. ‘Ya, Logmagi,’ I
cry; ‘ya Hassan el Logmagi!--ya Hassan Captàn--ya Abu Mohammed;’ and,
although I use the politest appellations, they are of no avail: he
turns his head away, and pretends not to hear me. This is very hard,
for it used to be a few piasters in my pocket: and the cadi is going
to dismiss me from my place, which is a certain two piasters a day
(fivepence), besides other little perquisites, in order to give it to
his son, who is now grown a young man.”
“Yes, poor fellow!” interrupted Madame C.; “he picks up a few piasters
by saying prayers over the graves for the dead, by writing petitions,
letters, and so on:” then, turning to the imàm, she added, “_Allah
kerým!_ I dare say the doctor will speak a word for you.”
“_In shállah_--please God--he will,” ejaculated the man. “Good, my
lady! May the Almighty restore her to health: she is the benefactress
of the poor; and, when we heard she was so ill, half Sayda was in
tears. God prolong her life!”
“Amen!” echoed the whole party. And the imàm, who, hearing I was in M.
Conti’s house, had, no doubt, come for no other purpose than to try
his luck, took his leave.
The imàm spoke the truth. Several poor families lived on Lady Hester’s
bounty, and she subscribed to nearly all the mosques and charitable
institutions. The old and infirm frequently received little comforts
at her hands which their own means would not enable them to procure;
and it created no little surprise that, without any previous inquiry,
she always seemed to know the precise nature of their wants. Her
presents, too, were enhanced in value by being bestowed at the right
moment: nobody had to wait for her benevolence.
Madame Conti, the lively and loquacious lady of the khan, had been a
severe sufferer by the earthquake of 1837. During that fearful
convulsion, one of her ancles was crushed by the fall of a massive
stone. One Abdhu, the son of a mason, and himself uniting the double
occupations of mason and bone-setter, was immediately called in. The
ancle was so mutilated that a European surgeon would have instantly
proceeded to amputation; but Abdhu bound up the lacerated parts as
well as he could with bandages, and, placing the patient in a damp
vaulted warehouse on the ground-floor--the only room which the
earthquake had not destroyed--confidently predicted her ultimate
recovery. Prince Joinville, happening to be at Beyrout at the time in
his frigate, very humanely sent his surgeon to Sayda to see what
assistance he could render to the sufferers: the consul’s lady was, of
course, the first person attended to. The surgeon pronounced his
deliberate conviction that, if the leg were not amputated, the patient
must sink under it: Dr. Canova, the Pasha’s physician, who was
present, entertained the same opinion. Poor Abdhu lay crouched in a
corner during the consultation; for his European brethren looked upon
him with too much contempt even to recognize his presence in the room:
but, when they were gone, Madame Conti again appealed to him, and he
again reassured her. “Do not be alarmed,” he exclaimed; “my father
and I have cured many worse cases than this.” She followed his advice,
the European doctors making no scruple in saying that she must pay
with her life the penalty of her obstinacy. The result proved that she
was right, nevertheless; for, at this time, March, 1838, she was in
perfect health, with the prospect of being able to walk without the
help of crutches, and in June following she became a mother. The case
is a curious one, and shows what nature can do in some instances; but
it is quite certain that, under such circumstances, amputation would
be considered in Europe the only means of saving the patient’s life.
On surgery in the East, which, it must always be recollected, is in
the hands of barbers, one more anecdote may find a place. Hassan
Tirâany, a brave Albanian soldier, and one of those who, after the
siege of Acre, found refuge in Lady Hester’s house, once had his leg
shattered by a cannon-ball. A considerable portion of the tibia was
carried away. A Turkish barber replaced the piece that was wanting by
another piece, of as nearly similar length and dimensions as he could,
from a dog that was killed immediately for the purpose. Union took
place, the leg healed; and, with the exception of a little deformity,
the man was as active as ever. This story Lady Hester used to relate
with great exultation. “There!” she would say; “tell Mr. Green that,
and acquaint him with a discovery so useful to humanity.” But it is
right to observe that the man was not a person of strict veracity; and
that a little farther doubt is thrown on the anecdote by the fact that
all Mussulmans consider dogs as unclean animals, so that they will
hardly touch them, and are, therefore, very unlikely to consent to an
osseous union with them.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] I am indebted to the reviewer of these “Memoirs” in
the New Monthly Magazine of July last, for more
accurate information about this legend of the serpent.
He says that a cave does exist at a distance of a few
hours’ travel from Tarsûs, with which many traditions
are connected; and, among others, that of the Seven
Sleepers, whom Lady Hester alludes to elsewhere. In
the same neighbourhood are to be met the ruins of a
castle, called, to the present day, the Castle of the
King of the Serpents, to which the fabulous story
related by her is attached.
[2] Here Lady Hester Stanhope interrupted the dictation
of the letter. “You may tell the Prince,” said she,
“a story about Sultan Mûrad--a sort of Eastern tale
to put in his book. Sultan Mûrad was one day looking
at the water boiling in a pot, and turning to his
prime-minister who was with him, ‘Vizir,’ said he,
‘I wish to know from you what that bubbling water is
talking about, and I command you to tell me.’ His
manner was perfectly serious; and the vizir thought,
that by such a strange command, expressed so doggedly,
the sultan wished to pick a quarrel with him: so,
after musing a little--‘Sire,’ replied he, ‘when one
of the elements is in commotion, no doubt the master
of the world would wish to know the reason. Be patient
with me: give me ten days to interpret these signs,
and I promise you I will do it.’--‘It is well,’ said
the sultan; ‘remember that in ten days I shall expect
your answer.’ The vizir retired from the sultan’s
presence, and reflected very seriously on what he had
to do. ‘My master,’ thought he, ‘is very ridiculous
to set me to explain what a pot of boiling water is
mumbling to itself about: but, as I am his slave, his
orders must be obeyed in some shape. Who knows? there
may be soothsayers or magicians who understand these
things: I must find such a one out, at all events;’
and he resolved to go in quest of one. He accordingly
mounted his horse, and with a single servant set
out, without well knowing what road to take.” Lady
Hester had got thus far in her story, when she said,
“But, doctor, this will take too much time:--so let
us finish the letter, and I shall perhaps be able to
relate the whole story to the Prince himself.”
[3] “Thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine
eyes.”--_Solomon’s Song_, c. iv., v. 9.
[4] I regret not having noted down this English
gentleman’s name.