FIRST VISIT TO ENGLAND.
It sometimes happened that the naval officers belonging to the
ship-of-war stationed at Beyrout, took up their temporary residence with
some friend on shore, being always welcome guests at the houses of the
inhabitants. It was in this way that I first came to cultivate an
acquaintance with the captain of Her Majesty’s steamer, “Hecate,” so that
we were much thrown together. On one occasion, whilst he was a guest at
our house, he proposed that I should accompany him on a pleasure cruise
as far as Malta; a proposition I gladly acceded to, more particularly as
the Emir Beschir, with his family and a relation of my own, were at that
time residing on the island. I had long had a desire to see Malta, for
many had described it to me as a species of little world, where one might
sit down in a _café_ and study the characters of every European nation.
The alarm and grief of my relations on learning my determination was only
to be equalled by the envious jeerings of my companions, who, whilst they
pretended to pity my infatuation, would, I feel persuaded, have parted
with every para in their possession for a portion of my good luck.
The steamer was to sail at the end of the week; and I was so busy making
preparations, packing and taking leave, that I really had not a moment’s
leisure for calm meditation,—and I am very glad I had not, for the
chances are, that this, in conjunction with some of the melancholy
forebodings of my friends, would have unnerved me for the trip. Seeing,
however, that I was determined on starting, my neighbours changed their
annoying prognostications into good acts, which acts consisted in
inundating me with as many presents of sweetmeats, biscuits, etc., as
would have kept me during a twelvemonths’ passage round the world. I
selected some of the best of them for the officers’ mess, and at last the
word ready being given, got my luggage together and embarked; the
dispatches being received on board, and the “Hecate” soon after getting
up her steam, we proceeded on our voyage to Malta accompanied by the
prayers and blessings of a multitude of friends and relations assembled
at Ras-Beyrout to witness our departure.
The day after we had sailed, I awoke at early dawn and crept up upon deck
as best I could. The motion of the vessel was so strange and violent,
that I reeled and staggered like a tipsy man, and felt confused,
miserable, weak and sick. The horrible sensations I experienced on first
awaking that morning cannot be easily erased from my mind. I was awoke
by a singular and deafening noise, which seemed to proceed from directly
overhead, which, as I afterwards discovered, was occasioned by the daily
process of holy-stoning the decks. I managed to reach the main-deck just
in time to be handed to the larboard gangway by the officer of the watch,
who there left me alone in my misery with my head hanging over the
bulwarks—a wretched victim to sea-sickness.
Bitterly, during that moment, did I lament having ever quitted Beyrout.
My sufferings were so intense that I thought I must have died during the
day. This was the first time I had ever found myself so far out at sea.
There was no land in sight. The morning was gloomy and boisterous; and
altogether my spirits felt so depressed that I resigned myself to Allah,
and wrapping the loose folds of my large Cyprus cloak carefully around
me, I sat down cross-legged in a corner behind the man at the helm, and
vainly endeavoured to fall off to sleep. A nice cup of coffee which the
captain’s steward kindly brought, in a great measure revived me; this
relief, however, was only temporary, the dreadful odour of the victuals
cooking for breakfast, fried fish, ham and eggs, etc., these made me feel
so ill that I was compelled to retire to my berth, and there I lay more
dead than alive during the whole passage, utterly callous as to what
became of me, and as to whether the vessel was steadily pursuing her
voyage in safety or was in imminent danger of going to the bottom.
Some Capuchin friars were on board, returning from Jerusalem to Malta,
accompanied by two young Syrian females who were going to Rome to be
educated in the principles of the Roman Catholic religion, and they not
only enjoyed the passage amazingly, being possessed of capital appetites,
but they very uncharitably, though not very unlike human nature, mocked
at my calamities and tried to heighten my alarm and sufferings by
frightening me with false reports as to the vessel’s danger, and as to my
own weak state of health.
After intense sufferings and encountering much really rough weather, we
had at length the satisfaction of finding ourselves safe at anchor in the
harbour of Valetta. I doubt whether any of the passengers that
accompanied St. Paul on his disastrous voyage and shipwreck, suffered
greater fear or pain than I had undergone; certainly they could not have
rejoiced more than I did at its happy termination. Blessed be God, who
is not forgetful of His children, even in the vast unruly deep!
On arriving at Malta, we had eleven days’ quarantine to perform; but the
tediousness of this imprisonment was much alleviated by the kindness and
attention of the good Mr. Schlicnz, whom I had known in Syria, and who
now daily visited me at the Lazaretto, supplying me with books to fill up
the tedium of dull hours. On the eleventh day, being admitted to
pratique, I accepted the hospitable invitation of that gentleman to take
up my quarters at his house. I was, through his politeness, introduced
into the society of several of the leading families at Malta. On leaving
Beyrout, I had been furnished with letters of introduction to Sir
Frederick Bouverie, the then governor. His excellency received me with
the utmost urbanity and kindness, and, indeed, I shall ever have cause
gratefully to remember Sir Frederick’s polite attention, as it was mainly
through his instrumentality that I first visited the shores of Great
Britain.
One of my first visits was, of course, to the Emir Beschir of Lebanon,
who, with his family, were then residing there as political exiles. I
had several long conversations with this once-powerful prince; and the
Emir suggested that his wife and son should accompany me to London, there
to exert their influence in endeavouring to prevail upon Her Majesty the
Queen to interpose her influence on their behalf. They communicated with
the British Government, both at home and in the island on this subject;
but no encouragement was held out by the authorities there or in England
for the furtherance of this scheme; and the subject, after a long
correspondence, was, therefore, reluctantly dropped. The Emir, being
hurt and displeased at this apparent neglect, sent his son to
Constantinople, who, being well received by the Ottoman Government,
wrote, at its suggestion, to invite his father to the Porte, an
invitation he readily accepted; upon which the governor of Malta placed
at his disposal a British war-steamer, and the Emir and his family
immediately quitted the island.
I may here be permitted to deviate a little from my journal to give a
brief description of these Emirs, their origin and end. The family of
the Emirs were originally Moslems, natives of Shaahbah, a village on the
southern plain of Lebanon; and they are said to be descended in a direct
line from the renowned Moslem Prophet, and to have ruled over the Lebanon
for many years. The founder of the family, Yusuf al Husn, or the
handsome or beautiful Yusuf, so called from his great personal
attractions, was, on account of his bravery and influence, chosen by the
mountaineers of Lebanon to be their prince.
Before consenting to the choice, however, he himself stipulated that the
power of life and death should be invested in his hands; and this having
been agreed to, he was duly elected Emir, came to the mountains, and
settled amongst his people, over whom he was to rule with a despotic
sway. During the time this prince held the supreme power, he preserved
the greatest order amongst the unruly tribes over whom he was placed, and
travellers passed and repassed with the greatest safety. Some time after
he had settled amongst the Druses and Maronites, after mature
consideration, he came to the resolution of embracing the Christian
religion, although such a measure was sure to prove disadvantageous to
him, by estranging the Druses and occasioning the Sultan’s displeasure;
he, however, retained undisputed the right of his position and authority,
and on dying, was succeeded by his son, the Emir whom I then met at
Malta.
The cause of this second Emir’s disgrace was his having fallen into
disrepute with the government, by not immediately joining the Seraskier
Pasha on the occasion of the expulsion of the Egyptians from Syria. But
the cause of the poor man’s conduct was one that few can help
sympathising with. His son was at that time with Ibrahim Pasha; and had
it been known to that warrior that the Emir had joined the forces against
him, there is little doubt but that he would have caused the son to be
cut to pieces. Under these circumstances, the Emir was constrained to
remain on the mountains till the expulsion of the Egyptian troops had
been effected. He then went down to Sidon and surrendered himself to the
English, and was by them conveyed in a frigate to Beyrout.
The Seraskier having given out that he was in possession of a Firman, by
the authority of which, could he lay hold of the Emir, he would
undoubtedly behead him, and send his head as a trophy to Constantinople,
the English authorities strongly recommended his departure for Malta,
where once on English ground his safety would be ensured. The Emir
accordingly came to that island, and was very well received by the
governor, who placed a palace at his disposal. I must acknowledge that
all that the Emir said about Sir Frederic Bouverie redounded much to his
Excellency’s credit. He spoke of him as a humane and kind governor, and
one who knew how to respect fallen dignity.
I have already said the Emir ultimately left Malta for Constantinople.
On arriving at Stamboul he was exiled to Zafron Boli, a place notorious
for the animosity of its inhabitants towards Christians, and where his
eldest son, pining on account of the miseries endured by his father, soon
succumbed to misfortune. Here he remained some time subjected to much
mental suffering. Often in after years he told me, in familiar
conversation, that what afforded him some small consolation was the
similitude between his own fate and that of the late King Louis Philippe.
After some time, through the kind intervention of one of the European
ambassadors, the Emir was brought to Broussa, and ultimately removed to
Constantinople, where, within a short time, himself and his remaining son
sunk into the grave. Every respect was paid to his memory; by the
Sultan’s order a public funeral was awarded him, and masses said for the
repose of his soul at the government expense, a striking proof of the
liberality and toleration of the government of the Sublime Porte.
During my stay at Malta, the late Dr. Alexander, the first Protestant
bishop in Jerusalem, arrived at that island, accompanied by his family
and suite, _en route_ for his new see. I shall never forget my amazement
on being introduced to that prelate, to find that he wore no beard. A
bishop without a beard was a perfect marvel to me, and a thing unheard of
in the East; in short, perfectly fabulous. This excellent man
condescended to ask my opinion on many points connected with the East,
and I made so bold as to tell him, that if he wished to pass for a bishop
amongst the natives of Syria, he must let his beard grow without further
delay.
Malta was a great novelty to me—the beauty of the scenery—the bustle of
the place—the frigates, steamers, schooners, boats, carriages, soldiers,
bands of music, friars, nuns, and a vast concourse of people in every
imaginable costume, and speaking every known tongue. All these
perplexed, astonished, and delighted me at one and the same time; and a
drive in the environs of Valetta was a perfect treat. At Malta I first
got an idea of European manners; and I must own, my astonishment was very
great to see the females, with faces perfectly uncovered, chatting in the
greatest familiarity with the opposite sex, and it was to me quite
incomprehensible. But my greatest astonishment was excited at a ball to
which I was invited. The waltzing, polkaing, etc., appeared to me a most
ridiculous and indecent exhibition; and it was a long time before this
feeling wore off. I have to this day been unable to find out how any
pleasure can be derived from a constant spinning round like the sails of
a mill.
It was not without much regret that I quitted the island—a perfect scene
of enchantment—and the kind, hospitable acquaintances I had formed during
my brief stay. His excellency the governor had been good enough to exert
his influence in procuring me a passage on board of a war-steamer on the
point of leaving for England. Such an opportunity was not to be thrown
away, so hurrying down to the water-side, I embarked, on board H. M.’s
steam-frigate Gorgon, Captain W. H. Henderson, C.B., 28th February, 1842.
I had leisure to survey the busy scene around us before the vessel
finally started. Shore-boats were plying around, offering for sale
fruits, cigars, and canary birds. On board all was order and silence;
around, all confusion, shouting, and quarrelling, and whilst mentally
occupied in drawing this comparison, the anchor was weighed and we
steamed rapidly away from the pleasant shores of the island of Malta.
After an agreeable voyage, marked by no particular incident, we duly
arrived at Portsmouth. On my arrival, I was made happy by meeting the
Rev. Mr. Marshall, chaplain of Nelson’s ship, the Victory, and whose
acquaintance I had the pleasure of forming when that gentleman was
travelling in Syria. Mr. Marshall and all the officers of the ship were
extremely kind to me, and shewed me over the old ship of the renowned
admiral. At this place I landed, and having got a permit, was kindly
shewn over the splendid dockyards. Here also I tasted some water twenty
years in cask. I afterwards went round in the same steamer to Woolwich,
and having shewn my letters of introduction to the captain, he kindly
undertook to advise me. He recommended me to proceed at once to the
house of the Honourable and Rev. Baptist Noel; and acting upon his
advice, I came to London, and thence proceeded to Hornsey, at that time
the residence of my reverend friend.
Confused and amazed as I was with the noise and bustle around me in so
vast a place as London, I was sufficiently alive to my own interests to
have my eyes open, so that I should not be cheated. This led to a
ludicrous altercation between myself and a toll-collector at a turnpike.
The man insisted on his money being paid; I, on the other hand, as
obstinately refused, assuring him that, though a foreigner, I was well
acquainted with the tricks practised upon travellers; in short, I thought
the man was asking for what, in my own country, is termed a _bakhsheesh_,
which means nothing more or less than a present. Some gentlemen,
however, came up and explained how matters stood, and then I paid the
trifle and bade the driver proceed.
Nothing could exceed the Christian brotherly reception I met with at the
excellent Mr. Noel’s house. He actually busied himself with helping to
carry in my baggage; and I was lost in admiration to observe how, in the
bosom of his own family, he would play and sport with his own children,
doing anything for their amusement and to make them happy. His early
rising and great taste for gardening quite astonished me. Pleasant
indeed were the days that I spent under his hospitable roof; and if any
in this world have a claim upon my esteem and gratitude, it surely must
be Mr. Noel and his amiable lady.
Leaving my kind host’s house, which I did with unfeigned regret, I lived
some time in London with Mr. W. Brown, in order to make myself familiar
with the many sights so well worthy of visiting; and I then proceeded to
Wimbledon, in order that, under the care and tuition of the Rev. William
Edelman, the clergyman of the place, I might improve myself in English,
and be prepared for a college education. I was placed there by the
kindness of the Rev. W. Neven and the Hon. Capt. Maude, belonging to the
committee of the society raised to promote education in Syria, by Assaod
Y. Kayet’s exertions, and also noted for their civility to all my
countrymen that have ever visited England. In Mr. Edelman’s house, I
found a happy home, for I was considered and treated in every respect as
one of the family. Mrs. Edelman was a very accomplished lady; she kindly
undertook to teach me drawing, and she was well versed in Latin and
classics. Of the many kind friends I met with during my stay at
Wimbledon, I may particularise and thank the kind-hearted Mrs. Marryatt,
mother of the celebrated novelist, who, at the advanced age of eighty,
looks as blooming as though she were in the prime of life. The venerable
lady is a great botanist and very fond of gardening. Mrs. Russell and
her two daughters shewed me great civility, as did the gifted Mrs.
Hudson, who is unfortunately blind. I am also much indebted to the
attention and civility of Major Oliphant, one of the East India directors
and to Mr. Mallison, Mr. Jones, and Mr. Peach, and their kind families;
in short, without enumerating their names, I thank all my good friends at
Wimbledon, and in the neighbourhood.
One day at church I was surprised and gratified at recognising in the
person of a very tall gentleman sitting in a pew some distance from me,
the late Captain Murray of the Rifles, an old friend who had been a
visitor at our house in Syria; he was as pleased as myself at the
recognition, and having introduced me to his mother and sisters, insisted
on my going home with him to lunch. Such acts of attention and kind
civility were of daily occurrence during my stay at Wimbledon; but I must
not forget to thank Miss C---, who was so good as to be at the trouble of
taking my portrait.
I witnessed a cavalry review before His Royal Highness Prince Albert; the
dazzling splendour of the accoutrements surprised me very much. Here
also I was once nearly being made eye-witness to a detestable duel. The
circumstances of this adventure were as follows, viz.:—I was one day
walking with Mr. Walmsley, now of the Foreign-office, and Captain John
Nunn, a military officer from Ireland, when passing near
Wimbledon-common, we saw some people busily occupied in measuring the
ground. Imagining them to be engineers occupied in a survey, I was glad
of the opportunity likely to be afforded me of improving myself in this
science by closely watching their proceedings. With this intention I
asked my friends to approach nearer to them; judge then of my horror when
informed by them, that these preliminaries were evidently being arranged
for a duel about to take place between two gentlemen, who had probably
quarrelled about some trifle, or possibly _un affaire de cœur_, and who
were going to settle their difference in this disgraceful manner. One of
my friends ran and fetched a constable, who speedily terminated the
proceeding by virtue of his staff of office.
I cannot say how detestable and absurd this crime appeared in my
eyes—such bloodshed to occur in civilised England appeared to me
marvellous—in a country professedly Christian. I really began to wish
myself back in Syria again; for if this was to be the result of
civilization and education, ignorance were bliss indeed.
On my first arrival in England, and for many months afterwards, I was
greatly at a loss to comprehend the many idioms of the language; and the
result was that I was perpetually the victim of some ludicrous error in
either speaking or misunderstanding the English. Previous to my
departure from Syria, I had become acquainted with Captain Charles
Shadwell, in Her Majesty’s navy, the son of the late respected
vice-Chancellor, Sir Launcelot Shadwell. On our parting he had desired
me, should I ever visit England, to call upon his father, from whom I
could readily obtain his address. Soon after my arrival I bethought
myself of this invitation, and called at the court-house at Westminster.
On enquiring of an attendant if Sir Launcelot was within, the man replied
in the affirmative, but at the same time gave me to understand that Sir
Launcelot was _sitting_, and that therefore I could not hope to see him.
This reply naturally very much amazed me, and I therefore persisted in my
request.
“I tell you, Sir, that Sir Launcelot is _sitting_,” was again the answer
of the servant.
This rather annoyed me. “Well, Sir,” rejoined I, “I know that Sir
Launcelot is _sitting_; I never supposed for an instant that he was lying
down or asleep at this hour of the day, and that is just the very reason
why I have called to see him.”
I need not say that my reply as much astonished the official as I was
confounded at his obstinacy. After some little altercation, however, I
was made to understand that the term _sitting_, as used in this instance,
referred to Sir Launcelot’s official occupations, and not a little
abashed, I apologised for the error, at the same time explaining to the
man the motives of my visit. I begged him to take in my card, and in the
mean time walked into the court, not however, without a fresh difficulty
occurring, for the official requested me to take off my cap, for I then
wore what I have been accustomed to all my life, the _fez_ or _tarboush_.
On this request being repeated, I told the man that I would much sooner
take off my boots, as it was disrespectful in my country to go bareheaded
into the presence of one’s superiors. I suppose the man had never seen
such a curious customer as I seemed to him to be; he however implored me
not to remove my boots, and without further demur, allowed me to remain.
I afterwards saw Sir Launcelot in the private office of the Chancellor.
He received me with stiff _hauteur_ and distant politeness, and on making
known my errand, regretted that he could not give me his son’s address,
but said that if I left my own, he would forward it to his son. This I
did, and rather hurt at the frigidity of his manner, speedily withdrew.
A few days after this, I received a very kind letter from Sir Launcelot,
enclosing me one from his son, and in which Sir Launcelot, after
apologising for the apparent want of courtesy displayed in his reception,
which he justly attributed to the impostures often practised by persons
of foreign appearance on the credulity of English gentlemen, concluded by
hospitably inviting me to dinner, when I should have the happiness of
once again meeting my friend, his son.
About the same time that I had come to England, there also arrived a
young Druse Sheikh from the mountains of Lebanon, who, attended by his
two servants, had left his home to be educated; and government had placed
him under the tuition of the Rev. Mr. ---. Some time afterwards, one of
the servants from some misunderstanding, attempted to stab that
gentleman, but was fortunately prevented. A great disturbance, however,
occurred, and the police were obliged to interfere and disarm them. In
1843 the Prince went raving mad, and was sent back to his friends. One
day, paying a visit to Aali Effendi, at that time Turkish ambassador
here, he suddenly flung a beautiful and expensive watch which he wore
into the fire, exclaiming that he would no longer carry the devil in his
pocket. I afterwards met him on one occasion on the Lebanon, and he told
me that he was very ill, as the English had put a charm into his stomach;
and he begged of me to give him an English lancet to perform an operation
and cut the charm. Luckily there are instances directly opposite to this
case, or else one might be discouraged in carrying out the good cause of
Syrian education. The fate of Assaad Shidiac (whose brother is
considered one of the first Arabic and English scholars, and has been for
many years employed by the Church Missionary Society in translating the
Bible from English into Arabic), who fell a martyr to the cause, shews
triumphantly that few people can be more sincere converts than the Syrian
Christians.
This admirable young man was originally a Maronite, but having been
educated by the missionaries, was led to see the errors of the Romish
faith. While travelling amongst his own native villagers he was seized,
and the people tried to force him to renounce the faith he had adopted.
On his refusal, they imprisoned and otherwise ill-treated him. A
merchant residing at Beyrout very soon flew to his rescue; but alas! he
arrived too late, the noble soul of Shidiac had fled for ever, and the
immediate cause of his death remains to this day enveloped in mystery.
I remember well that on first arriving in England I had a habit of
sitting cross-legged on a chair or an ottoman. This position used to
amuse my English friends very much, and on one occasion when I detected a
number of young ladies laughing among themselves and pointing at me, I
anxiously enquired the cause of their merriment, and one of them
volunteered to tell me that it was only tailors in this country that
resorted to the use of such a droll position. I assured them that in
Syria the nobles of the land sat cross-legged; but thanking them for this
gentle correction, I ever after endeavoured to sit as much like an
Englishman as I could, a task which I at first found both difficult and
disagreeable.
At this time I received intelligence of the death of a very dear friend
and relative, and this melancholy news urged on me the necessity of
returning to Syria. I accordingly began to make preparations, and was so
fortunate as to meet Sir George Otway, who was going up the Mediterranean
in command of the “Virago” steamer, and who very kindly gave me a passage
as far as Malta.
On board the “Virago” I had the happiness of meeting those amiable
noblemen, the Marquis of Worcester and Lord Clarence Paget. We touched
at Gibraltar, and were there joined by the bishop of that diocese who was
about to pay a visit to Malta. We had a remarkably pleasant voyage out,
and on arriving once more at Malta, I immediately occupied myself in
preparations for landing, not displeased at the idea of once again
visiting that pleasant little island for a few days. In the midst of all
this, my attention was suddenly attracted to the constant succession of
flags that were being rapidly hauled up and down and changed. I was of
course ignorant as to the motives of these signals. In a short time,
however, Sir George Otway enlightened me on this subject by informing me
with a smile on his countenance, that the “Medea” steam frigate, Captain
Warden, with the Lycian expedition, was about to leave for Rhodes, and
that he was glad to say he had been successful in procuring me a passage
by her. Accordingly, taking a hearty leave of the excellent commander
and gallant officers of the “Virago,” and bidding adieu to my noble
fellow-passengers, I was quickly transferred from one vessel to the
other.
On the deck of the new steamer I was delighted to recognise the features
of my old acquaintance Mr., now Sir Charles Fellowes, who was then
proceeding to conduct the expedition to Lycia in Asia Minor. In a few
days the steamer landed me at Rhodes. I joined the Austrian boat at that
island, and was soon, to my great joy and satisfaction, safely landed at
Beyrout.
On joining my old acquaintances, I was much amused at the ridiculous
reports in circulation as to the results of my visit to England. Some
imagined I had been made a bishop, whilst others stated that I had given
myself out as the Prince of Syria, and had persuaded the English
government to grant me a fleet to conquer the country. I was frequently
asked by the chiefs when I expected the ships to arrive. All concluded
that I was thoroughly versed in medicine, as the people of Syria imagine
all Europeans, and those who visit that country, to be well acquainted
with this science.
After I had been a short time at Beyrout, I went on a visit to the
mountains, when a desperate war broke out between the Maronites and the
Druses, through the machinations of the priests. The Druses immediately
made a desperate attack upon the village of Deyr Al Kamar, where at that
time the Emir Kasim was residing at the palace. The village was nearly
destroyed, and much blood was shed. The palace was sufficiently strong
to resist their attack. The government was so amazed at this outbreak,
that the Emir was ordered to go to Beyrout, whence he was sent to
Constantinople. I myself remained a short time at Beyrout to arrange
some private affairs. This being settled to the satisfaction of all
concerned, I took my passage to Constantinople on board of one of the
Austrian steamers, and after a prosperous voyage was duly landed at
Stamboul. This was the first time I had ever visited the great Moslem
capital; but I came here after having seen and been resident at London,
and it consequently had few charms for me, though I must admit, that as
seen from the sea in approaching it, I thought Stamboul one of the most
lovely spots I had ever set eyes on.
Here I soon joined my old acquaintance the Emir Kasim. The story of this
prince is as follows:—
His childhood was passed on Lebanon, and ultimately he became possessed
of large landed estates, to the cultivation of which he devoted much of
his time. Living in a fine mansion in the village of Hadded, about four
hours’ journey from Beyrout, the greater portion of which belonged to
him, his house was at all times open to the traveller, whether poor or
rich; and, indeed, no person ever passed his door without experiencing
the hospitality of the owner. The chief objects of the Emir’s attention
were silkworms, of which he kept immense numbers. He was also celebrated
for his fine breed of Arabian horses. Devoted to the pleasures of
hunting wild boars in the neighbourhood of Damascus, and shooting, his
great delight was a _battue_ of partridges; for the perfect enjoyment of
which an excellent system had been established. The unfortunate birds
(of the red-legged species), having been gradually accustomed to be fed
in a small open spot, whenever the Emir felt inclined for the sport, he
ensconced himself snugly behind a bush especially prepared for the
purpose, and blazed away at his victims at his ease. It is quite certain
that the Emir had not had the advantage of a sporting education in
England, but it cannot be denied that the natural cunning of the man had
led him to imitate closely a European practice. In other respects he was
an ignorant and unlettered man; his only accomplishments being a little
reading and writing.
When the Emir Beschir had been called upon to join the allies with his
forces against Ibrahim Pacha, but was unable to comply with the call,
Kasim collected all his followers and went down to the sea-coast to join
Sir Charles Napier, who, in return, promised to make him Prince of
Lebanon, and to add Beyrout and Sidon to his principality; his losses in
money and property were immense for Syria, but he listened to the
promises of the English, which were to the effect that he should be amply
recompensed. These promises were, however, never fulfilled. The title
of Prince of Lebanon was certainly granted him; but the disturbance
before narrated broke out, and his removal was the result. It was
imagined at the time that the political influence of another power
outweighed that of England, and caused this measure to be brought about.
On his arrival at Constantinople from Beyrout, the Prince was brought
before the divan and called upon to answer certain charges brought
against him. This he succeeded in doing to the satisfaction of the
authorities, and he was accordingly acquitted; but it was thought that
his presence amongst the mountaineers might again cause a revolt, and the
government, therefore, ordered him to remain in Turkey.
While in Stamboul I had laid his case before Lord Cowley, the British
ambassador, who, upon ascertaining the real state of affairs, promised to
exert himself in his favour, which promise his lordship fulfilled to the
utmost. The prince, not understanding the integrity of his lordship’s
character, and being a total stranger to the system of European
diplomacy, wished to force on his lordship the acceptance of some very
valuable Arab horses, which present, of course, was instantly refused.
This very much astonished the Emir, who had all his life been accustomed
to Oriental tactics in policy, in which such an argument was the only one
ever likely to be productive of beneficial results. This, in fact has
been the system practised from the earliest ages up to the present date.
We read in the Bible of the wife of Nabal riding forth from Carmel,
accompanied with donkey-loads of presents, to meet David, in order that
by soft words and rich presents she might propitiate the king in her
favour, and turn his wrath away from her husband. The meeting between
Jacob and Esau gives another instance of this method of conciliating
favour being resorted to.
The Emir remained for some time under surveillance at Constantinople,
when, through the strenuous exertions of Lord Cowley, a small pension was
obtained from the Government. Some time after this, when I was in
England, I received some letters and enclosures from him.
After perusing the whole of the letters, I came to the resolution of
delivering one intended for Sir Charles Napier personally. Sir Charles
received me with the rough cordiality of an English sailor, and after a
long conversation about the affairs of Syria, told me, that now he much
regretted the part he had taken in Eastern politics, and promised to
exert himself in favour of the Emir Beshir Kasim, and of Syria, at the
same time exhibiting great interest for the welfare of its inhabitants.
He applied to Lord Palmerston in behalf of the prince, and through his
influence, after a long correspondence, instructions were forwarded to
Sir Stratford Canning to exert himself in his favour; but, during this
interval, a severe illness had deprived my unfortunate friend of his
sight. At length, through the kindness of Aali Pasha, the then minister
for foreign affairs, permission was obtained for his return to Syria,
upon the Emir undertaking to live there strictly as a private individual,
and to interfere in no way with the politics of the country. He is now
living on Mount Lebanon, where, at the advanced age of about eighty
years, he exerts himself as far as age will permit, in promoting the
happiness of those around him. But to return to my narrative.
During my stay at Constantinople, I was fortunate enough to make the
acquaintance of many warm friends, and among others, of the late lamented
Lord William Clinton, who, at that time, was fulfilling the duties of
secretary to the embassy, also of Mr. Wood and Mr. Allison, a gentleman
distinguished by his profound acquaintance with the languages, customs,
and manners of the East, also attached to the embassy, Mr. Cumberbatch,
the consul-general, and his brother. I further had the pleasure of
making the acquaintance of the late Doctor Bennet, chaplain to the
embassy, a truly good man, and one who did credit to his creed.
Dr. Bennett had a large family of sons and daughters, all scattered about
over the world. One is, I believe, now high in the East India Company’s
service in Bengal, another attached to the consulate at Varna; and there
is one, I believe, in England, who has embraced his father’s profession
and entered the ministry. Mrs. Bennett was a most exemplary wife. From
her I received my first impression in favour of English wives; her
never-tiring and affectionate attendance upon the good doctor when seized
with his last fatal illness, seemed to me, who was then unaccustomed to
the devotion displayed by English women in time of sickness, truly
angelic, and quite disheartened me when drawing a comparison between them
and my own countrywomen, ignorant of reading and writing, though
doubtless, if educated, susceptible of all the more refined feelings of
civilisation.
Though on the point of falling desperately in love with one of the fair
daughters of the land, this consideration effectually checked my
enthusiasm. A lady-friend had given me an eloquent description of a
young Greek damsel, to which I was more than half inclined to listen,
when the example I have already quoted made me suddenly remember that
such things were not to be hoped for save in an English wife.
During my stay at Stamboul, I renewed my acquaintance with the Rev. Mr.
Goodall, my former kind instructor, who had left Syria and come to reside
in that city, where, in conjunction with the other American missionaries,
he carried on his arduous duties with unremitting zeal. Though not long
resident at Constantinople, I was witness, on more than one occasion, to
the havoc committed by the fires that are incessantly occurring. From
one of these I myself was a severe sufferer. Once, while spending the
evening with Lord W. Clinton, a fire broke out in the house next to his.
As mine was only a few doors further off, I hastened away to rescue my
property, and with the assistance of the _hammahls_, or porters,
succeeded in removing it into the centre of a neighbouring field, where
it would be out of harm’s way. Having done this, I returned immediately
to Lord William’s to give him what assistance I could in helping to
remove his property to a place of safety. The fire committed fearful
ravages. A whole quarter of Pera was destroyed. When it was at last
extinguished, I hastened to look after my own property, but such had been
the devastation committed by the flames, that the whole face of the
district was changed; and I found it utterly impossible to recognise any
spot or mark which might afford the slightest clue as to the whereabouts
of my late quarters, and thus lead to the recognition of the field.
After a long and unsuccessful search, I was obliged to give the matter
up; and I was thus deprived of the whole of my personal effects. This
was in the winter of 1846.
After some months’ residence at Constantinople, through Lord Cowley’s
kind exertions with the Turkish government, I was sent to England, and
was furnished with letters to Prince Callimaki, then ambassador at the
court of St. James’s. Lord Cowley gave me a passage to Malta in an
English war-steamer. We touched at Corfu, where I was so fortunate as to
make the acquaintance of Lord Seaton, who at that time held the office of
Lord High Commissioner of the Ionian Isles. Both himself and family
treated me with the greatest hospitality. During my short stay, I had
time to discover that his lordship’s popularity amongst the residents was
very great.
From Corfu we came to Malta, where I had the pleasure of meeting several
dear friends again. I stayed here for a fortnight; and on one occasion,
I regret to say, I witnessed conduct most unusual in British officers,
who, with few exceptions, I have found ever mindful of their position as
gentlemen. One evening, at the theatre, a number of the junior officers
were present, and, in spite of the quiet remonstrances of the audience,
persisted in placing their feet on the ledge in the front of the boxes.
The Maltese at length became so exasperated that a number of them left
the house and awaited the departure of the officers, when they assailed
them in a most furious manner, and would certainly have inflicted serious
injury upon them had not a guard arrived opportunely to separate the
combatants. At the height of the riot my curiosity was much excited on
observing a peasant, who had struck down an officer, and seemed
apparently about to follow up his attack, suddenly desist and render the
utmost assistance to his late foe. Being acquainted with the gentleman,
I next day enquired what could have caused this change, and was much
surprised to find that this strange occurrence arose from the peasant
having, by a secret sign, discovered that the officer was a brother
mason. I could not but admire a system productive of such benevolent
results, and a few evenings after, happening to be dining with my friend,
Captain Ford of the artillery, and understanding from him that he was
engaged to attend a lodge on the island, I begged he would procure me
admission. This he kindly consented to do, and I was, therefore, duly
initiated. The kind feeling and brotherly love I have met with among
masons, has rendered this event one of the happiest of my life.
From Malta I came to England through France, _viá_ Marseilles. At
Marseilles I put up at the Hotel de l’Europe. Being at that time
ignorant of the language, I found myself awkwardly situated, for shortly
after my arrival, having washed my hands, I could find no place wherein
to empty the basin, and being amongst strangers, I felt great diffidence
in making known my wants. In this dilemma, I resorted to the expedient
of throwing the water out of the window. I did so, and was chuckling at
the success of my plan, when my attention was attracted by a great noise
in the street, and, to my surprise, I heard foot-steps and angry voices
approaching my bed-room door.
On their entering, I found that the water had unfortunately alighted on a
French officer, who at that moment chanced to be passing in full-dress
uniform. His indignation was such that I expected to be annihilated on
the spot. I presume, however, that the people of the hotel would not
permit him to wreak his vengeance on me, and so he contented himself by
giving me into the charge of the police, who desired me the next day to
appear before the magistrate (the complainant appearing in person). I of
course made ample apologies through an interpreter, and the matter was at
length satisfactorily settled. This officer and myself afterwards became
very good friends; he explained to me that he had imagined I was an Arab
from Africa, who had thus sought to revenge myself for injuries I might
have received from their hands whilst in Algeria, and that this had
determined him to have me punished, adding that had he known that I was a
Syrian, and above all from Mount Lebanon, he would certainly have been
disposed to be more lenient. This _contretemps_ shewed me the necessity
of being acquainted with the customs and languages of the places through
which I might be necessitated to travel.
I left Marseilles by the diligence, and was very surprised at the slow
method of travelling adopted by the French. As compared to the railroad
transit in England, they seemed a century behind. The idea seems quite
absurd that a country like France, which aspires to rivalry in arts and
sciences no less than in accomplishments, should compel unhappy
travellers to lose three days in performing a distance that could almost
be done in a few hours in England.
I made a short stay at Paris, where I met with great kindness from the
Ottoman ambassador, Suliman Pasha, and was fortunate enough while there
also to make the acquaintance of that celebrated statesman and profound
scholar, M. Guizot. M. Thiers, also honoured with his friendship. With
this last eminent statesman I had a long and interesting conversation
respecting the Syrian campaign of 1840–41, and he evinced a most lively
interest in the fortunes of the grand Emir Beschir. Under the pretence
of collecting money for the sufferers of Mount Lebanon, an association
was formed at that time in Paris, with the secret intention of making a
tool of one of the Emir’s family, and through his instrumentality
exciting a rebellion amongst the inhabitants, and then taking advantage
of their civil discord.
Being a native of those parts, the ambassador thought that I could
without exciting suspicion gain some information as to the real projects
of these people. I obtained possession of a pamphlet, in which their
benevolent views were set forth as a blind to their proceedings, from the
treasurer of the society, with whom I was formerly acquainted, but who,
ignorant of my intentions, declared its real purposes. Their object was
to excite commotions, and through the medium of these civil discords to
increase the influence of France in those parts.
On my arrival in England in October, 1847, I presented my letters of
introduction to Prince Callimaki, who introduced me to the members of his
suite. After some deliberation, the Prince and my English friends
thought it would be better for my interests to study a profession than to
remain simply attached to the Embassy: but they left it to me to choose
what that profession should be. After mature reflection, I fixed upon
surgery, which I thought would more than any other render my services of
use to my fellow-countrymen. On making my choice known, the Prince and
Mr. Zohrab kindly undertook to consult with Mr. Benjamin Phillips, the
eminent surgeon of Wimpole-street, now retired from practice, and living
at Hendon, to whom I was furnished with a letter of introduction. The
parental conduct of this gentleman towards me I shall ever call to mind
with the deepest veneration, and in the phraseology of my countrymen,
_the ashes of my bones will not cease to retain this feeling_. It was at
last determined that I should reside with Mr. Drewitt, of Curzon-street,
May-fair; this gentleman and his kind-hearted lady exerted themselves to
the utmost to procure my comfort and further my views, and whilst under
their hospitable roof, I enjoyed every domestic happiness.
In order still further to advance my interests, the Prince Callimaki, Mr.
Phillips, and other friends, most kindly addressed letters to the
Directors of King’s College, introducing me to them, and stating my
earnest wish to attend the valuable lectures of this institution. In
reply, the much respected principal, Dr. Jelf, immediately sent me an
admission to the College, and he himself received me in the most generous
and noble manner, and exhorted me to use my endeavours to persuade my
countrymen to follow my example.
I now regularly attended these lectures, and from both professors and
students received every civility and attention. At first my repugnance
to the dissecting-room was so great and overpowering, that I went to the
prince and earnestly besought of him to let me relinquish the profession,
telling him that I thought it quite an act of barbarity thus to mutilate
the dead. The prince, however, after many arguments, induced me to
persevere a little longer. I took his advice, and soon found that this
feeling of repugnance gradually subsided; nay, more than this, I began to
take peculiar pleasure in the study, when the whole magnitude of its
wonderful philosophy burst upon my understanding. One day a trifling
accident occurred to me—trifling in appearance, but which very nearly
terminated fatally. The event, however, was productive of one good
result, it shewed me the sincere and unaffected esteem of English
friends, and made me happy in the knowledge that I was fortunate enough
to have hundreds, even in England, deeply interested in my welfare.
Whilst assisting in the dissecting-room in November 1849, I accidentally
pricked my finger with a poisoned knife, but being engaged on that day to
dine with the excellent and good Lord Cranworth, the present Lord
Chancellor, the hospitalities of that nobleman, and the cheering music of
his lady and her sister, Lady Eardley, entirely drove the circumstance
from my memory. This was the ninth of November, and I was engaged to
join the festivities at the Guildhall in the evening. At midnight,
whilst in the midst of my enjoyment, I was seized with sudden illness,
and my good friend, the late Sir Felix Booth, immediately sent me home in
his carriage. After a night of extreme wretchedness and misery, I next
morning summoned around me a host of my medical acquaintances; but these,
alas! were but Job’s comforters, for they one and all assured me, that
should erysipelas supervene, death would be the certain result. I need
not here relate the depressing effect this news had upon my already
exhausted spirits.
My English friends may smile at what I am now about to relate, but the
impression made at that period on my mind was so great, that I cannot
refrain from mentioning the matter.
While in my own country (according to the universal custom of the
inhabitants), I had sought to dive into the secrets of futurity through
the aid of a _munajjim_, or magician, who predicted that on a Friday I
should be seized with a dangerous illness or be shot, either purposely or
by accident, and that in all probability either misfortune would prove
fatal to me. In my almost helpless state, this circumstance coming
vividly to my mind, was all-sufficient to have brought about the foretold
result, for it certainly for some time hindered my recovery. I sent for
a Syrian friend and made my will, and he committed to paper all my good
wishes towards my kindred at home.
During this sad time, my first English friend, the Hon. and Rev. Baptist
Noel, was most indefatigable in his attentions; and this good man
comforted me with prayers, and taught me to lean on the word of God for
comfort and succour, not only in this affliction, but in every
tribulation. I likewise received a visit from Cardinal Wiseman, who,
meeting my friend and medical adviser, Mr. Phillips, at the door, asked
permission to see me. This was reluctantly granted, and only upon
condition that the cardinal should attend to my spiritual concerns, and
leave my corporeal cure to Mr. P. My illness continued for three months;
but at last, through the untiring labours of Mr. Phillips, and under the
Divine blessing, I was once more restored to health.
My apartments were every day besieged by numbers of kind friends, who
called to ascertain the state of my health, and to leave me fruits, and
such tokens of esteem as they thought most acceptable to an invalid.
I well remember that, at a period during the most dangerous part of my
illness, I called to mind, that in my country a superstition was
prevalent, that the broth made from a young black cock, whose head must
be severed by a knife with one stroke from the body, was very efficacious
in curing such cases as mine; and my strict injunctions and earnest
entreaties to those around me to prepare me this broth, must have made
them imagine me imbecile.
Before quitting this subject, I must here record my grateful thanks to
Mr. Zohrab, the Turkish consul-general, and his lady, whose friendship
and kindness to me upon all occasions I can never sufficiently
acknowledge. On my partial recovery, they insisted on my taking up my
abode at their mansion at Hampstead; and owing to their kind attentions
and _recherché_ fare, I soon recovered my strength.
The 12th of April, 1850, was one of the proudest days of my life. On
that day I had the great honour of being admitted a member of the Royal
College of Surgeons of London; and whilst yet blushing beneath my new
honours, more came pouring upon my head. I went to King’s College on the
27th of the same month to witness the distribution of prizes, and there I
had the pleasure of meeting the amiable and learned professor, Doctor
Jelf; from him I was surprised and delighted to learn, that, listening to
his kind recommendation of my attention to studies and lectures, His
Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury had been graciously pleased to confer
upon me the honour of being an associate of the college.
Having thus been admitted among the surgical staff of England, I am
naturally jealous, as well for the honour and privileges, as for the
efficiency of the profession, in this great country; and I think it will
not be out of place if I briefly record the opinions entertained by a
foreigner on the anomalous and unsatisfactory position which it at
present occupies.
Although, then, the medical profession, as a body, is held by the people
in very considerable estimation and respect, and although the individual
practitioners are received in the families, whose confidence or
friendship they have obtained, with the utmost cordiality and unreserve,
giving place only to ministers of religion, nevertheless, they have good
reason to complain of the manner in which they are treated by the
Government, and the little care that is taken of their interests. Being
all of them men of somewhat extended education,—with very few exceptions,
gentlemen by birth—and very many of them deeply versed in various
scientific subjects, it would not be too much to expect that the
Government would at least throw around them the shield of its protection,
even if it did not stimulate them to increased activity and exertion, by
holding out honours and rewards, as prizes for the most distinguished.
Yet how stands the fact? The law permits any man to call himself
surgeon, and to perform the most capital operations; moreover, the
Executive will not take the trouble to publish a list of the authorised
practitioners in the three kingdoms. No authentic document exists,
enrolling in one compendium the names of all who are entitled to practise
in their respective departments, and, consequently, the public are kept
in ignorance of those whom in medical matters they may with safety trust.
Nor is this all. It absolutely encourages unlicensed and ignorant
pretenders, by permitting the sale of quack medicines for a paltry duty
on each parcel vended. It derives, indeed, no small revenue from this
disgraceful source, not only to the injury of the regular members of the
profession, but to the imminent danger of the community also. In legal
matters, no man can give you advice without being duly licensed to do so;
but in medicine and surgery any man may prescribe the most deadly poison,
or amputate a leg without the least authority, and, unless death result
from his temerity, without being amenable to any penalty.
As a proof of the contemptuous treatment to which the profession is
exposed at the hands of the authorities of the nation, great and small,
reference need merely be made to the surgeons attached to the Poor-law
unions, and to the assistant-surgeons of the navy. The latter—gentlemen
who have passed through their education, and must of necessity be in
their twenty-third year—are not allowed a separate cabin, in which to
prosecute their studies, until after three years of service, but are
doomed to the noise and inconvenience of the midshipmen’s berth. They
are thus put on an equality with youths, six or seven years younger than
themselves, and who are still in a state of pupilage. Whilst from the
former, for the most part, is exacted a quantity of physical labour,
sufficient to exhaust the stoutest frame, for a stipend considerably less
than would be accepted by a skilled artisan; the threat having been in
many instances put forth against the established practitioner of the
neighbourhood, that if he will not undertake the duty on the terms
proposed, the “Board” will invite some fresh man into the district, to
whom, of course, an opportunity would be given of shouldering his elder
rival off his stool, and acquiring for himself a part, at least, of the
professional emolument of the place.
Again; who would have presumed, that in this intelligent country the
General Board of Health would only contain in its composition one medical
man? Who would have believed that the important sanitary affairs, which
come under its jurisdiction, should be investigated and adjudicated upon
by a committee of gentlemen, with that one solitary exception, totally
unconnected with medicine?
One great drawback against entering upon the duties of medical life, as a
profession, will be acknowledged in the fact, that there are no high
places of honour or emolument set apart for the members of that
profession as there are for divines and lawyers. The utmost a medical
man can hope for, because it is the highest point he can possibly attain
to, is to have the honour of knighthood or a baronetcy conferred upon
him—distinctions which are bestowed upon Lord Mayors and Sheriffs with a
much more profuse hand than on the scientific portion of the community.
The Archbishop of Canterbury ranks next to the members of the Royal
Family, and the Bishops take precedence of all temporal Barons. The Lord
Chancellor’s rank is next in order to the Archbishop; and thus the two
highest offices in the realm are open to the ambition of the most obscure
student in divinity and law, while to the professors of medicine not even
a commissionership is ever offered.
With an equally niggardly hand are pecuniary grants and pensions
distributed. There must indeed be something very extraordinary in the
case that would induce a minister to recommend to the Sovereign a grant
of money, as a pension or otherwise, to any member of the medical
profession, however benefited mankind might have been by his discoveries,
and however old and indigent he might himself have become. Nor do widows
and children fare much better. Should a pension be vouchsafed to the
family of a distinguished professional man, left in straitened
circumstances, it is, for the most part, comparatively inconsiderable in
amount.
Successful soldiers are titled and pensioned, and any man who has
invented a destructive weapon of war is held in high veneration; while
those who have devoted their lives to the mitigation of human suffering,
and have even discovered a certain means of abrogating pain under the
most severe surgical operations, are passed by as unworthy of regard.
Unfortunately, the remarks I have penned above are applicable, for the
most part, to all literary men, equally with the professors of medicine.
In no country is literature more highly prized by the people, or less
patronised by the Government.
Such is surely a suicidal as well as narrow-minded policy, because it
tends to drive young men of high talent and promise, who might otherwise
be disposed to seek medicine as a profession, into some other walk of
life. Every encouragement, on the contrary, ought to be held out to the
flower of the rising generation to enter into the medical profession as a
study, since the health, and, consequently, the happiness of the
community are entrusted, under Providence, to their keeping. One would
suppose, indeed, that if no higher motive was the actuating principle, a
selfish regard for their own well-being would induce those in power to
render it worth the while of youths of genius and extensive acquirements
to devote themselves to this noble pursuit. For this purpose some posts
of distinction should be put aside, or new ones created, and appropriated
to the professors of medicine; and in that case it would soon be
discovered, that a preliminary scientific education, and the knowledge
acquired in the intimate intercourse with society, enjoyed by the medical
practitioner, by no means disqualified him to undertake places of trust,
and to execute delicate and important services.
Another complaint, that the profession might justly make, is, the want of
any representatives of their interest in the lower House of Parliament.
Both in the Lords and Commons assembly the law possesses a large and even
overwhelming force; and although the constitution of the country
precludes the ministers of religion from holding seats in the Commons,
yet that want is well supplied by the talent and eloquence of the members
sent by the universities of Oxford and Cambridge into that chamber; and
the omission is, moreover, fully and excellently made up by the number,
learning, and energy of the bishops having seats in the House of Peers;
while the professors of medicine are altogether without any one to stand
up in their behalf. The consequence of this is, that if a medical
question is started, or one having reference to sanitary measures—which,
indeed, are interesting to every individual in the state, inasmuch as his
own health and safety may be involved in them—it is either shelved on the
first decent opportunity, or discussed languidly in a thin house. If the
University of London, the Royal Colleges of Physicians and Surgeons, and
some of the northern Universities, had the privilege granted them of
sending representatives to the Legislature, the addition might be found
to be as much for the benefit of the nation as for the honour and
advantage of the profession itself. {157}
About this time, finding that my friend the Mir Shahamet Ali intended to
visit the north of England, I availed myself of the opportunity, and
joined him in the excursion. This gentleman was the most remarkable
stranger I have met with in England; he was a native of Delhi, where he
received his education. The Mir was a most intelligent and learned man,
and had travelled much in Bengal with Sir Claude Wade, whom he had
accompanied to the Punjaub and Bahawalpur, when that gentleman went there
for the purpose of negotiating with those States for throwing open the
navigation of the Indus and the Sutledge. The Mir was afterwards sent
with presents from the English Government to the Court of Lahore, and he
subsequently published, in English, two books, the “Sikhs and Affghans,”
and a “History of Bahawalpur,” besides one or two little pamphlets on
Indian affairs; he also long held the situation of _Mir Moonshee_ in the
Upper Provinces.
Perhaps I may here be allowed to give an anecdote illustrative of London
_haut ton_ and society, showing how scrupulous they are, and how a
stranger may inadvertently fall into disrepute; and also, how easily a
foreigner, by slight mistakes, may suffer severe consequences. I once,
mistaking the designation of my friend, the Mir, introduced him at the
houses of some religious fashionables as a prince, supposing the term
Mir, in Hindustani, to be equivalent to the word Emir in Arabic. Some
person chose to bestow this title on _myself_ instead of my friend, and I
was supposed to be the prince. An intimate friend afterwards told me
that I had been accused of introducing _myself_ as a prince. Thus a
report, arising from a mistake of which I was wholly unconscious, was for
some time circulated to my prejudice.
But return to the Mir, he came to this country to obtain a better insight
into European manners and society. Her Majesty the Queen of England was
graciously pleased to receive him, and he was presented at court by the
Earl of Shaftesbury. General Duncan Macleod, of the Indian army, whose
engineering talents have been so justly admired, as exemplified in the
splendid palace erected under his sole direction for the Nawab of
Moorshedabad, also a friend of the Mir, was present. During this
presentation, a very pleasing incident occurred, illustrative to the
latter of the urbanity of Scottish aristocracy. Being very much struck
with the splendid Highland costume of one of the gentlemen present, the
Mir wished to be allowed to inspect it nearer, when General Macleod, with
characteristic amiability, apologetically explained to the object of his
admiration how much his _protégé_, the Oriental, was struck with his
appearance. The chieftain very good-naturedly invited the Mir to
approach, adding, “Perhaps you would like to see a chieftain’s wife
also,” and forthwith introduced him to his lady, the Duchess of ---.
As may readily be conceived, it was most agreeable for me to travel about
with such a companion as the Mir. We visited all the manufacturing
districts together. The Mir was indefatigable, active, inquiring, and
desirous of obtaining knowledge in every acquirable shape. We proceeded
to Birmingham, where we were received by our consul, Mr. Collis, and
entertained at his house during our sojourn; he shewed us whatever sights
in that wonderful town he deemed at all interesting to us. The various
places we travelled through are so familiar to my English readers, that
to relate them all, would prove tedious. Suffice it that we got on very
well together, till we were one day leaving Sheffield for Edinburgh. At
Sheffield we had nearly exhausted our funds in purchasing cutlery, etc.,
so that when we came to the railway-station we had not enough ready money
between us to pay our fare onward to Edinburgh. We were, however,
bearers of letters of credit, and stating our circumstances to the head
booking-clerk, he kindly consented to allow us to proceed by the train on
condition that we paid on arriving in Edinburgh. Accordingly we took our
seats in the carriage, and began to condole with each other on the
awkwardness of our position. There was one other person beside ourselves
in the carriage, and this gentleman, though a perfect stranger, kindly
came forward and pressed upon us the use of his purse. After some little
altercation and hesitation, Mir Shahamet Ali and myself agreed to borrow
five pounds of this worthy stranger, on condition that we should be
permitted to return it immediately after our arrival at Edinburgh. Our
promise to pay was, as the reader may imagine, promptly met. This
stranger proved to be Mr. Walker, the celebrated engineer, of Great
George-street, and on returning from London to Scotland, I called to
thank this estimable gentleman for his unsolicited kindness to myself and
friend; and through this slight incident, I still enjoy his friendship
and acquaintance.
While in Edinburgh, we were much delighted at our visit to Holyrood in
its quiet and decayed grandeur—majestic with age—replete with tragic and
romantic reminiscences. This impressed us much, and the whole aspect of
Edinburgh, especially as viewed by night, struck us as singularly
Oriental; and we, in imagination, could with ease have conjured up some
additions to the Arabian nights. The dim outline of the castle on the
rock—the old town, dark and confused beneath, whilst on the opposite
height, row upon row of twinkling or brilliant lights flashed across the
sight; these might have made one easily suppose that the grovelling
creatures of earth inhabited the lower portion, guarded by some
portentously frowning power; whilst above danced the fairies in their
exquisite mother’s light (called by the common people, “Bonnie Jumpers”);
and in the new town dwelt the _Magi_, all illumination, life, light, and
splendour. The hospitality and warmth of kindness of the Scotch to us
strangers, was irresistibly gratifying, and we were most kindly
entertained by many of them.
In our walks, the boys frequently screamed after and cheered us, loudly
vociferating, “_Ibrahim Pasha_!” I presume that they had heard of him,
and imagined that every Oriental must be _the man_. The English almost
invariably, even amongst the better classes, call everybody that wears a
_fez_ or _tarboush_, _a Turk_, much upon the same principle as our people
call every one with a _hat_ (_chapeau_), _Franji_ or a man from European
countries, without distinction as to sect, creed, nationality, or the
vast variety that exists amongst both people of government, laws,
manners, and histories. The English also have an idea that every one
wearing a turban must be a follower of Mahomed. Apropos of this subject,
I may here recount an anecdote which will doubtless amuse my readers.
One day when I was at the hospital, there was a woman waiting for a
surgical operation to be performed. After explaining its nature, the
surgeon, much to my delight, asked me to perform the needful operation.
Up to this moment the woman was lying on a bed perfectly resigned, and
with both hands clasped over her eyes. No sooner, however, did I take up
the instruments, and draw near to perform the needful service, than she
started up in bed, and glaring wildly at me with terror depicted in her
countenance, and doubtless alarmed at my Oriental garb and beard, she
screamed out with all her might, “The Turk! the Turk! the Turk is going
to cut me!” Nor could any arguments of mine persuade her to submit to
the operation at my hands.
My friend, Shahamet Ali, had for some time rented a cottage at Ryde, in
the Isle of Wight, where on our return he invited me to pass a few days.
I cordially accepted this invitation, and whilst at Ryde had the
happiness of meeting Lord and Lady Downes, together with Sir Claude Wade
and his amiable lady, from all of whom I received much kindness, which
has not ceased to this day. My visit to Ryde extended over a month, and
my friend, Shahamet Ali, was during that time making his arrangements for
a journey to Constantinople and thence to Mecca, which last place he
visited for the express purpose of purifying himself, he having mixed so
much with Christians that his religion required his pilgrimage thither.
I accompanied him as far as Paris, where I left with him letters of
introduction to my friends in the East. I have since heard from him; he
had reached Mecca in safety, had performed his ablutions to satisfy the
prejudice of his countrymen, thus washing away all impurities supposed to
be contracted by mingling for so long a time in the customs and manners
of the infidels. He is now settled as agent for the East India Company
at Selana in Malwa.
We both were much pleased with the Parisians. No introduction was
needed—our position in society was a passport everywhere. The French are
so amiable, _au dévant de vous_; perfect in grace, fascination and
_toilette_; more cheerful, and perhaps warmer-hearted than the
English—but far less stable. A Frenchman may form a violent attachment
to a person to-day, and to-morrow be wholly indifferent as to his
whereabouts or welfare. An Englishman may be some months before he
evinces the least symptoms of even a partiality; but when a friendship
really exists, you may count upon its sincerity and continuance.
I returned to London and remained for some time, when my good friend,
Mahomed Pasha, being recalled to Constantinople, it was arranged that I
should return to Paris and reside there. Amongst others whose
acquaintance I had the honour of renewing in France, was that of M.
Lamartine, the great admirer of Lebanon, whom I had met in Syria. We
were mutually pleased to renew our friendship. He wrote a very flowery
letter to the Sultan Abdul Medjid, in which he said that having a map
before him of all that mighty potentate’s dominions, he had fixed upon a
little spot in Syria (Lebanon), whither he would wish to withdraw himself
from the turmoil and strife of life to settle down; but the Turkish
government, considering that the Maronites, who already possessed much
influence through French protection might choose him as their Emir,
consequently, in lieu of the small bit of ground begged for in Syria,
presented him with an immense tract of fertile ground in Asia Minor,
where the poet-statesman of France might sow every seed, save the seed of
political discord, which in such a wilderness would never take root.