M. Surûr, English agent at Damietta--Patients--Excursion to
Lake Menzaleh--Mataryah--Melikýn--Pounds for cattle--Ruins
of San--Broken pottery--Conjectures on its original
use--Tennys--Dybeh--Botarga fishery--Fowling--Running deemed
indecorous in a Turk--Menzaleh--Haunted house--Disdain of
pedestrian travellers--False door--Departure for Syria--Vessel,
cargo, and crew--Charms to raise the wind--Arrival at Acre,
Tyre, and Abra.
We were taken to the house of Mâlem Michael Surûr, the English
agent, a young gentleman of considerable abilities and property, who
did everything that Oriental hospitality, so fertile in resources,
dictated, for the entertainment of his guests. He had several fine
horses, upon which we rode out daily. Mounted himself on a superbly
caparisoned stallion, his grooms preceded him on foot, bearing
perpendicularly each his _zan_, or white staff, in the right hand,
with which, as he went along, they beat the walls, and, at every curvet
which his horse gave, cried, Mashallah, how wonderful! This, being
the style of the principal Mahometans, and absolutely prohibited to
Christians, becomes one of the distinguished privileges of a Consul;
and it is only to be regretted that the restraint under which the
Christians live should have given a value to such empty distinctions.
I became acquainted here with the most fascinating lady that I had
known during my long residence in the Levant. Her name was Syt Fersûn
(or Euphrosyne) Karysáty. She and her infant daughter Benba came daily
to Málem Surûr’s to consult me; and Shaykh Ibrahim used to express
very pathetically his chagrin that, whilst I was admitted into the
harým to converse with these ladies, he was excluded. I had several
patients at Damietta, and a consideration of some of the cases which
fell under my care leads me to say, that I am not disposed to accede to
an assertion made by Mr. Brown in his travels--“that in no country are
pulmonary diseases so rare as in Egypt.” Mr. Brown was not a medical
man, and, therefore, of course makes similar remarks as the result of
what he heard from the natives. It would seem that there is as large a
proportion of them here[72] as in some or any European countries.
Mâlem Surûr had three black slaves and fifteen servants in all.
Shaykh Ibrahim had meditated, among the objects of his visit to
Damietta, an excursion on the lake Menzaleh, and I agreed to join him
in it; the more especially as there was no vessel ready to sail for
Syria, to which country I was now anxious to return.
Lake Menzaleh is not of great antiquity: Macrisi speaks of it as having
been made to prevent the recurrence of invasions on the side of the
Syrian desert. The ruins which are still to be found in and about it
have rendered it an object of curiosity. In my first visit to Damietta,
in company with Lady Hester, I was prevented from indulging the wish I
entertained to see it, owing to the shortness of our stay, and to the
hurry which our preparations for the voyage to Syria occasioned.
Mâlem Surûr made such arrangements as he thought would render us
comfortable, in furnishing us with a basket of provisions, and sending
his janissary as our guard. Just before sunset, on Sunday evening,
the 30th of September, we traversed the beautiful environs of the
city, for about two miles, down to the edge of the lake at the place
of embarkation, called Mehúb, where we found a small barge, of the
kind common to these waters, waiting for us. It had a temporary awning
made of rush mats. The solid construction of the boat itself rendered
it so far from crank that we could walk or sit in it anywhere without
rendering it lapsided. Our boatmen were three brothers: two men, Ahmed
and Segáwy, and Metwelly, a lad. Shaykh Ibrahim had with him his black
slave, Fadl allah and Shâaty, a servant he had hired at Damietta, and I
had Giovanni. The crew were furnished with poles, to push the boat over
the shallows, and to force her onwards when there was no wind. In this
operation, the poles are rested against the shoulder; and, considering
the great force occasionally used, it is wonderful that no injury
ensues. The servant, with the provisions, not having yet arrived, we
amused ourselves in observing Mâlem Surûr, who, mounted on a Mameluke
saddle, exhibited more skill in horsemanship than Christians in these
countries are generally possessed of. His youth, he not being more
than nineteen years of age, gave him every disposition to enjoy the
privileges attached to his situation.
At nightfall, Mâlem Surûr took his leave. We embarked, and had not got
far from the shore when the shaykh recollected that he had brought
away certain letters, prepared for Alexandria, which he had forgotten
to leave. We therefore put about, and returned to Mehúb, the place of
embarkation. At each place of embarkation, of which there are many on
the borders of the lake, a soldier is generally stationed to levy the
customs, which he farms from the chief officer at Damietta. It is not
necessary to ascertain what his claim was on our boat; but no sooner
had Ahmed, accompanied by his brother, stepped on shore to find a boy
to carry the letters to Damietta, than he was seized by the soldier,
and desired to pay the dues. It was now quite dark. Ahmed assured
the soldier he had no money, as he had yet received nothing from his
passengers; but, not being believed, he was forcibly thrust into the
guard-house, where the soldier began to beat him most unmercifully. His
cries induced his brother to beseech Shaykh Ibrahim (who was on shore
delivering his instructions to the messenger about the letters) to go
to Ahmed’s assistance. The shaykh went; and with great promptitude
broke open the door, and rescued him from the grasp of his enraged
assailant, who had, in addition to a beating, drawn his yatagan, and
was threatening his life. The soldier was promised a bastinadoing on
our return to Damietta.
It was some time before Ahmed could now be made to hold his tongue,
when he found he could vociferate without fear of reprisals; at last
quiet was restored, and finally we re-embarked. We supped, and lay
down to rest in our clothes, under our rush tent, and at three in the
morning were disturbed by the boatmen, who told us we had arrived at
Mataryah. We had passed during the night two islands, el Usbeh and el
Luskeh; but at what distances, and in what direction of the compass, we
had not observed.
When day dawned, we found Mataryah to be a large fishing village. Of
the houses which faced the lake, some were of brick, and others mud;
but, as it is customary in Egypt, the buildings seemed rather decaying
than improving. The shaykh’s name was Hassan el Fâal. The water-side
exhibited, as usual, a scene of women filling their water-jars, men
washing themselves for prayers or other causes, and naked children
paddling about. We endeavoured to purchase a little milk; and, having
waited until Ahmed, whose family lived here, had gone to his house and
returned, at seven o’clock on the first of October, we loosened our
sail, and stood south and by east.
Continuing in this direction for one hour, about nine we entered the
canal, called Toret el Möez, and the mouth itself was named, by the
räis, Ahmed, Halc el Naby. Mataryah bore from this point north-east and
by north. As the current ran out very strong, and there was no wind,
we made the boat fast to a pole thrust into the mud, and breakfasted.
Close to us was a fisherman’s seat, in which he sat to watch his nets;
many more of which we saw up the canal. These were made of layers of
rushes, pressed down between four stakes, and formed the apex of two
converging sets of stakes. The net was placed between them; and the
current, as it brought down the fish, drove them into the enclosed
part, where they were entrapped. The mouth of the canal was single;
but, immediately within it, the course of the canal itself was no
longer distinguishable to a person unacquainted with its navigation, as
various streams were seen coming in different directions to the same
point; which was occasioned by the retiring of the Nile waters, now
just on the decrease.
About half an hour before noon the breeze freshened; and we, fancying
that our räis was only gaining time in order to make money, since his
agreement was at a certain rate per day, obliged him to cast off. In
about two hours, we arrived at Melikeen, a square mud hamlet on the
east bank of the canal. This hamlet now stood insulated; for in front
of it was the canal, and round it were meadows overflowed; so that the
children were seen dabbling in the water like amphibious creatures, and
men were going from hamlet to hamlet wading up to their waists, either
with their clothes pulled up or entirely naked.
The inhabitants of Melikeen, our räis told us, ranked themselves in the
class of dervises, and assumed the name of fakírs. They were known,
when they wandered from their native town, by a bit of white rag, going
under the chin and over the head, and tied down by the turban. They
carried a cruise of water by their sides, to give to drink to whosoever
asked them; this was their principal vow. They were bound, if beaten,
to make no resistance, not to steal, and to some other observances
which I now forget.
About three we arrived at another hamlet, similar to the first, but on
the opposite bank of the canal, called Melikeen el fokany, or Upper
Melekeen, in contradistinction to that below it. The banks hitherto had
been lined with reeds and rushes; nor could we distinguish what was
behind them, excepting here and there through openings which discovered
an almost entire inundation. Here we found the monotony of the scene a
little relieved by tamarisk bushes (_turfy_) growing in hedges.
The banks hereabouts emerged from the waters, and might be about
fifty yards apart, as far as we could judge by the eye. Our räis had
pretended that the depth of the canal was greater than the length of
the pole which he held in his hands--perhaps twenty feet long; and upon
his assertion we had already noted it; but, wishing to assure myself
farther, I sounded, and found only nine feet water.
In the afternoon we arrived at a third hamlet, called Weled Ali, much
the same in appearance as the others. Indeed the square walls of mud
in which they were enclosed concealed the interior from us; but it
is sufficient to be familiar with one of them to know them all. Our
course soon changed to South West. The canal here divided, and we
kept the left branch: but we observed the two branches again to join,
having thus formed a small island. From Melikeen upwards, we had
remarked, besides the hamlets, certain little pounds, or pens, made of
mud walls about four or five feet high, upon knolls of ground, which
remained dry here and there on the banks: these, we were told, were
the retreats of the buffaloes and herdsmen at night; for, the moment
the retiring waters leave the grass and rushes visible above the
surface, these meadows are resorted to by the peasantry, who pasture
their buffaloes on them while yet swampy; such swamps, it would seem,
being best suited to the nature of those beasts. To protect them by
night, they are penned in these enclosures of a few yards’ breadth; and
man and beast here live more together certainly than we had ever yet
witnessed in brute and reasonable animals.
Towards evening we came to another hamlet, called El Wäy, and from El
Wäy might be seen another, called El Bekashy. A little distance beyond
brought us to the foot of the height on which San[73] formerly stood,
and where we were now to seek for its ruins. On landing, we accosted an
old man with a dark brown rusty skin, and asked him to point them out
to us. He was a very fit person for the purpose, as he proved to be one
of many others who gained a livelihood by digging for the foundations
of these ancient edifices, which they sold for limestone, and was then
watching several heaps, collected on the banks of the canal, ready
to be embarked. He led us on for about a quarter of a mile, until we
found ourselves on a flat, partly surrounded by a hill in the form
of an amphitheatre, where several huge granite masses were lying in
confusion.
The site of San is what would be called in military language a height:
which, at a rough guess, may be two or three miles in circumference,
and rises out of a country otherwise totally flat. It is composed of
several monticules, which, combined, have the shape of a horseshoe,
but are separated from each other by deep gullies, apparently worn by
the waters in the long course of ages. In the centre of the horseshoe
is a level, and at the entrance of it were some masses of granite. The
soil about us was of the same nature as that which the Nile leaves,
and must, therefore, have been brought hither by the wind or by men’s
hands; being above the level of the annual inundations.
Proceeding a little further, we found a granite obelisk, entirely
perfect, but fallen. It measured about seventy feet in length and
six in breadth. Beyond it were three more fallen obelisks, with
hieroglyphics, but less distinct than those on the first. Close to the
last was a hole in the ground, dug by the workmen, at the bottom of
which we discovered a part of a granite colossal statue. What was bare
seemed to represent the folds of drapery; but, not being able, for want
of time, to dig round it, (although the means were at hand) we could
not decide exactly to what it belonged.
By this time the whole squad of peasantry had left their work, out of
curiosity to see what we were doing. Two among them offered to lead us
to other ruins, if we would promise to reward them. They accordingly
took us to the top of the height, where was a small crumbling shed, the
sanctuary of a Mahometan saint, called Shaykh el Garýby. Near it was a
broken granite sarcophagus without a lid. Descending the hill, on the
side towards the canal, we came to the stumps of an immense colonnade
of granite, which seemed to have belonged to some vast edifice. The
fragments of the shafts of these pillars measured nine spans in
diameter: but the upper parts had either been entirely removed or were
buried in sand, as nothing remained but these lowest portions, which
seemed to occupy their original situations.
Having on a boot which chafed my foot, I was compelled to halt, whilst
Shaykh Ibrahim ran forward to some heaps where he thought he might
discover other fragments. Whilst he was gone, I found a part of a
granite statue, of the proportions of a youth, in alto relievo, with
the right foot, up to the ankle, still entire. I loaded some workmen
with it down to the boat, whither we were obliged to hasten, as the
evening had now closed on us: for, although we could have wished
to make some farther examination of this interesting spot, yet the
character we had heard of the people about San made us desirous not to
sleep where we should be exposed to be plundered. While perambulating
the ruins, their rude jocularity, and the half insolent, half
inquisitive way in which they looked at us, led us to believe their
intentions might not be good. We accordingly loosened our sail, and
returned nearly down to Weled Ali, where we slept.
The disjuncted elevations which form the heights of San are covered
with broken bricks and pottery.[74] Unless the conformation of these
monticules be entirely changed, and the rains have worked out gullies
between them, these never could have been the site of a connected
town. It is rather to be inferred that the city was built on the flat;
and particularly as at the foot of the elevation there was still
remaining a portion of a wall of sun-baked bricks. Perishable as
such materials might be supposed to be, we yet observe them, in this
instance, surviving the fall of columns of marble and of obelisks of
granite! Their duration, however, must not be ascribed alone to their
durability; for, whatever could attract the cupidity of the Moslems and
was portable has been removed by them. Sunbaked bricks can be made
cheaper than transported: and to this, perhaps, it was owing that the
wall still remained.
The wind blew fresh during the night. On the morning of October the
2d, in descending the canal, we bought some cheese and milk at one of
the pens on the banks, and stopped at Melikeen, to give an account of
ourselves to a subaltern officer stationed there in a _canja_,
or barge, for the purpose of levying the duty on salt passing down
the canal. This duty our raïs told us was 3000 medini (equal to £2
10_s._) on a large load: but we had reason to believe that his
information was not to be relied on.
About noon, we left Halc el Naby, and in three hours arrived at Mâbed,
one of many other small islands lying East North East of the mouth of
the canal. We went on shore, and found fragments of bricks enough to
testify that a village had once existed there. The island is not more
than half a mile in circumference. Shaykh Cheleby, the present chief of
Menzaleh, had carried off the greater part of the ruins to build with.
We departed from Mâbed; and, about five o’clock, passed the extreme
point of the island, where the Marabût of Shaykh Abdallah stands. This
island is called El Carâh. Having weathered the point of El Carâh, we
wore, and stood East half South; and, keeping this course, arrived
after dark at Tennys. It was too late to go on shore, so we made fast
to a pole, stuck in the bottom of the lake, at some distance from the
shore, to avoid the musquitoes; and, having smoked our pipes, to which
we were both very partial, went to sleep.
At daylight (October 3rd) we visited the ruins. We found a brick
wall still standing, about 1000 paces long, and, within it, several
cisterns of curious construction. The largest of these was twenty paces
in breadth and thirty-one in length. The roof was supported by brick
arcades, the pilasters of the arches being about ten feet distant from
each other. Excepting in these cisterns (none of which, moreover, were
entire), and on the walls, we found not one entire brick left on the
ground; the neighbouring shaykhs having carried them away for building.
The whole area was one continued quarry, from excavations made to
find the stones of foundations. In the North West corner might be
distinguished the remains of a fortress or castle: and, close to it, a
canal divided the corner from the rest of the city, which, it is most
probable, was a continuation of some one of the great canals leading
from the Tanitic branch of the Nile. The island is elevated a few feet
only above the level of the lake. The soil is of the same fine mould
as we observed at San, but certainly could not get there by the same
means. Innumerable swarms of musquitoes pestered us on the island, and
for some time afterwards.
Having spent about three hours at Tennys, we left it; and, keeping a
North North West course, with a string of small islands constantly
on our right hand, we arrived, at three o’clock in the afternoon, at
the bogàz of Dyby Castle, one of the openings by which Lake Menzaleh
communicated with the sea and the ancient Tanitic branch of the Nile.
The canal, as we entered it from the side of the lake, was called by
the raïs Dunet El Sharây, and was about thirty yards broad. After
running 200 or 300 yards, it opened into a broad water, and then
continued for perhaps half a mile, until it emptied itself into the
sea, South West and North East.
Between the broad water and the sea was a fishing hamlet, called El
Tat, on the right hand side; and, facing it, branched off a gut,
leading into the lake in a South East direction, named Ishtûm ed Dybah,
down which we sailed. Upon the point of junction between Ishtûm ed
Dybah and Dunet el Sharây stood the castle of Dybah, a fortress of
brick, built by the French for the defence of this entrance.
Our object in visiting the Dybah bogàz was to learn something of
the Botarga fishery. _Botárekh_ in Arabic, Botarga in Italian,
is considered throughout the Levant, by Turks and Christians, as a
very great delicacy: and in Lent the consumption by the latter is
enormous. It is the roe of a fish, salted and dried. There are three
places where this fishery is carried on; namely, Mferdjy, Gemäyd, and
Dybah. It would appear that the fish leave the open sea in search of a
tranquil place where to deposit their spawn, in the months of August,
September, and October, and are then caught. The fish is called, in
Arabic, _lebt_, and is from a foot to two feet long.
On the side next the lake, the fishermen ply day and night with
circular hand-nets, which, from habit, they throw with great
expertness; and, from the number caught each time, the fish must be
very abundant. They are carried on shore, ripped open with a knife, and
the roes taken out, salted, and exposed to the sun for three successive
days, when they are fit for the market. There is also a kind of botarga
prepared by simple drying only: and a third sort, where the fish, when
caught and salted, are sent to a distance; after which the roes are
there taken out and dried.
The botarga fishermen form almost a distinct race. They are all natives
and inhabitants of Mataryah, and reside at the Ishtûms only during the
fishing months, when they build themselves cabins of mats, spread over
ribs of palm branches. Each hamlet may contain forty or fifty families;
and, at the close of the season, they strike their cabins, and return
to Mataryah. The men appeared to be a very fine race: and, to convince
us of the purity of their clan, pretended that they intermarried only
with each other. The children were naked, and wanted not beauty in
their shape: and there was a young man, the fineness of whose person,
much above the common size, particularly attracted our attention.
Indeed we were of opinion that the Egyptians employed on the lakes and
on the Nile were of as symmetrical and robust a make as any men that we
had ever seen or read of.
The fishery, like every other profitable business under the existing
government of Egypt, was in the hands of the pasha, who farmed it out
to the shaykh of Menzaleh. The shaykh sent an overseer to every hamlet,
to whom was delivered whatever fish were caught, and an account was
kept of them. At the end of the season, the whole amount was summed
up: two thirds of the profits were given, in fixed portions, to the
fishermen, and the remainder was the farmer’s. No fish could be sold,
no botarga cured, except by the order of the bailiff; and a severe
bastinado was the immediate consequence of detection: so that the poor
fishermen might be said to be miserably off. Their gains for a season
(as they told us) amounted to from 50 to 125 piasters a man.
On our arrival at the hamlet, our dress and our beards, in everything
corresponding with those of Mahometans, had imposed on the bailiff,
who, as soon as the boat grounded, advanced into the water up to
the waist to salute us: but, the moment we spoke, finding we were
khawágys[75] (or Christians) he very coolly returned to the shore;
and, when we were landed, whilst we sat smoking our pipes and making
our inquiries respecting the fishery, he was snoring at his length on
the ground, close by us. We bought four fish, each about one foot and
a half long, for a shilling, and paid very dear for them. They were
_lebts_, and were, when boiled, of a good flavour. The roes had
little taste done in this manner.
These fishermen employed themselves likewise in catching wild fowl,
which was done, at particular seasons of the year, in the following
manner. The fowler strips himself, and puts on his head a black woollen
cap. When night comes, he wades into the lake, taking care that his
head only is visible. The birds at this time are all sleeping. The
main object of the fowler is to seize the leader of the flock: without
securing him he can do nothing. The leader is called on the Lakes the
cadi, and is known, we were told, by a white head and large mouth. The
fowler gets hold of the cadi by the neck, and draws him under water,
where he holds him, and then he gently serves four or five more in the
same way, until his hands are full, when he wades back to the shore.
Another way of catching them is to throw the circular hand-net over
the flock, and envelop as many as possible. We did not see many flights
of ducks. At this time of the year, gulls, ox-birds, and pelicans,
seemed the most numerous.
A little before sunset we set sail with a fresh wind through Ishtum el
Dyby in a north-west direction. On our right, on entering the gut, was
El Weranyah, a fishing hamlet: farther, on the same side, El Arkûn;
and beyond it El Malaca. The canal here was a quarter of a mile broad;
and somewhat farther on, opened into the lake, between several small
islands on the right, and the hamlet of Sunâra on the left; close to
which is a triple marabût of Shaykhs el Mograby, El Bugdády, and Abu el
Wafy. We then kept a south and by west course, and anchored, after a
short run, at an island called Zubbàr.
Much amusement was here created by Shaykh Ibrahim’s objections to
anchoring and the räis’s determination to do so. The wind, it is true,
was very fresh, and our bark without ballast: the räis also said that
he could not answer for his course in the night: but we had every
reason to believe that he availed himself of these excuses only to
lengthen out the voyage; since the pay that he received from us (seven
piasters a day) was much more than he could gain by his ordinary work.
Nor is it unnecessary to observe, that nothing is ever gained from
these people, except by seeming desirous to have, in the common phrase,
as much for one’s money as can be got. For if, out of compassion to
their poverty, you seem disposed to afford them indulgences, they
immediately become either importunate beggars, or insolent cheats.
Although, therefore, we passed the night at Zubbàr, it was not done
until we had urged the point with much seeming vehemence, threatening
to throw Ahmed into the lake, to cut off a day’s pay, with many other
menaces, for the purpose of ascertaining if there really were a
necessity for staying.
Next morning it was calm, and our crew were rewarded for their delay
by being compelled to push the boat on with poles. We left Zubbár at
half past four, and scarcely advanced more than a mile in an hour. The
lake was very shallow hereabout, and around us were a number of small
islands, with several more to the north-east.
At ten we reached the border of the lake, and entered the canal,
called Turet el Rusweh, which leads up to Menzaleh. Although the lake
itself, during the rise of the Nile, almost touches the town, yet its
shallowness prevents boats of any size from approaching, and is the
cause that the natives have dug a narrow canal more easily navigable.
It is crooked; and, in its whole length from the lake to the town,
may be a mile. When we were half way up, the boat grounded, and we
disembarked to walk the rest of the way. We observed here three barges,
laden with gypsum, collected at an island near El Usby; which we
regretted not having seen. The gypsum was in coarse powder, and looked
like so much salt.
As we had been cramped up in the boat nearly twenty hours, and were
consequently desirous of stretching our legs, we had scarcely got on
shore when we started off in a sort of trot, but had reason to repent
of this gross deviation from Turkish gravity: for our räis and the
janissary, on their return to Damietta, roundly asserted that we were
either mad or possessed of an evil spirit: since no gentlemen with
beards, and in their senses, would think of running!
On arriving at the town we desired to be conducted to Shaykh Cheleby’s
house. The shaykh was absent, but we were introduced to his son,
Hassan, a man seemingly about thirty-five years old, to whom we
presented our letter from Mâlem Surûr. He received us with civility,
gave us coffee: and, soon afterwards we sat down with him to a very
comfortable noon repast of pilaw, roasted chicken, botarga of two
kinds, and cheese. He left us to go on a party of pleasure to some
orchards in the neighbourhood, to which we would not accompany him,
intending to depart as soon as possible for Damietta. Shaykh Hassan
was dressed in the costume peculiar to the Egyptians:--a camlet black
smock-frock, and, beneath it, a showy-coloured (generally yellow,
orange, or red) jubey and silk kombáz. The turban is worn by the
Egyptians arranged more fantastically than by the Turks and Syrians.
Menzaleh, in the state we found it, was a large burgh, with four
mosques, and with several small buildings having cupolas, which I
presumed to be oratories. With the exception of one large block of
granite, converted into an olive mill-stone, we saw no remains of
antiquity; it is evident nevertheless that this was once a very large
place. Its population was perhaps more than 3,000 souls. The houses
were chiefly of brick, and many of them tolerably good. The streets,
as is customary in Egypt, were unpaved; and, during the day, when the
usual wind blew, the dust filled the eyes which way soever they turned.
There was a rudely-constructed bridge over the canal, on the inner side
of which were lying ten or twelve barges, carrying on the trade inland
to Mansûra. There was a coffee-house, and a small bazar for the first
necessaries of life. Within the town and in the environs there were
sycamore and palm-trees. Rice was cultivated around: but the Nile had
not yet decreased enough to begin tilling the soil, excepting in some
fields close to the town. The magistracy of this place and district had
been, for many generations, in the family which then held it, and which
derived its origin (as Shaykh Hassan told us) from Tabaríah (Tiberias),
and hence had gained its surname of Tabàr. Menzaleh was the principal
town of an akalým, (district or sub-division) containing about twenty
villages.
Shaykh Hassan el Tabàr told us, in reply to some remarks which we
made on the goodness of his house, not inferior to many of the best in
Damietta, that it was new; as he was obliged to desert his old one,
because it was haunted by an afrýt, or ghost, in the shape of a Frank!
He added that he had himself seen the ghost, which spoke in broken
Arabic, generally beat a drum, knew most of the persons who addressed
him, and called them by their names. Such was the terror created by
this apparition, particularly among the women, that the house which
it haunted, although spacious and handsome, was without a tenant. We
remained in Menzaleh until four o’clock, and then, riding-down to our
boat on miserable asses, quitted the canal and set sail for Damietta.
Arriving at a landing-place, called Gut el Nussára, about midnight, and
asleep, towards morning I awoke; and, looking out from under the tent,
found our boat driving fast in the direction from which we had come,
her painter having slipped. I roused Ahmed, who, with much cursing and
grumbling at the day he had ever taken Franks on board, pushed her
back. At daylight we landed, leaving the servants to hire a camel and
bring the baggage to Damietta. We then set off on foot for the city.
The walk in the cool of the morning, through fields presenting, in the
month of October, the verdure of spring,[76] whilst above them the
yellow and crimson clusters of dates hung in rich luxuriance, was no
less agreeable than salutary. Yet, when we arrived at Mâlem Surûr’s
house, and presented ourselves to our host, who was lolling over his
morning pipe, with half a dozen servants humbly standing before him, he
could not conceal his astonishment and chagrin, that we should exhibit
ourselves with feet covered with dust and the perspiration running
down our faces, in the guise of foot-travellers. And his Eastern pride
was wounded to the quick at the surmises that must have been made, as
we came through the streets, upon such extraordinary conduct. We took
no pains to combat his false ideas of gentility. A servile people,
restricted in their actions by their fanatic masters, fancy those only
to be happy who are privileged to be inactive: although such inactivity
leads to the ruin of their health, and excites commiseration in those
who know better.
Shaykh Ibrahim and myself went to view the mosque of Abu el Alal, full
of beautiful columns, among which were some of verd-antique. There was
an inner part, into which I would not go, fearing, as I was no Turk,
they would compel me to become one.
On the 7th, we were invited to dine with Monsieur Basil Fakhr, the
agent of the French nation at this place, a man of great talents, both
literary and political. Mâlem Surûr was dressed in a lilac silk kombaz
and a salmon-coloured jubey.[77] There was a variety of dishes, and
among the rest a roasted pig, which was probably put there purposely to
see whether Shaykh Ibrahim would eat of it: but he did not.
Shaykh Ibrahim and myself slept in the same bedroom at Mâlem Surûr’s,
and, when going on the lake, we had deliberated, as our books and
clothes were lying loosely about, whether we should lock the door,
or whether such caution in the house of a gentleman would not be
indelicate. We at last determined for the safe side, and actually took
the key with us. This proceeding, so strange, if done in England, was
not equally so there: for bed-rooms are not washed as with us, neither
are they regularly swept: and, when once an inmate in a house, your
room is entered by none but your servant. On our return we found the
door locked as we left it; but, on entering, we saw at once that our
effects were not as we had left them. Mâlem Surûr, when we joined him
at dinner, asked us if all was in its place, with a sort of cunning
look that caused us to say no. He then informed us that the open
beaufet in the wall, with shelves, the borders of which were so neatly
worked, and which were decked with china and glass, was no more than a
false door, but so artfully made, that it was impossible to distinguish
it from a cupboard. Of this his mother had a key, and entered the room
several times during our absence.
Shaykh Ibrahim now wished to depart for Cairo, seeing that I had taken
my passage for Syria. On the same afternoon we entered together into
a boat, which took him to the _mash_ that was to convey him up
the Nile, and me to the long-boat of my vessel. Here we bade adieu to
Mâlem Surûr and to each other. I was immediately rowed over the bar,
and found in the offing a polacca brig, so crazy-looking as to frighten
me, and so deeply laden as to float but two feet above the surface of
the water. Her decks were covered with _cuffases_ or flagbaskets
of salt fish, which had a very offensive smell, with mats, and with
six new cables. The cables were green as grass, being made either of
the filaments of the bark of some tree or of rushes: and two thirds of
the cordage used on board the Egyptian and Syrian vessels are of this
kind. All these are articles of trade with Syria; but the bulk of the
cargo was rice: besides which, the sailors had filled every nook and
space with baskets of parched peas, called _hammas_, (which are as
much sought after by the common people throughout Turkey as Barcelona
nuts are in England), and with linen and cotton cloths. The salt fish
and mats, it appeared, belonged to the ship’s own cargo. From the
multiplicity of articles on the deck itself, it was impossible to move
from one part to another. I too had a heap of luggage; and, among other
things, I had brought with me a bedstead made of palm-branches. These
bedsteads are so firmly yet lightly constructed that they can be lifted
easily with one hand. Mine was lashed over the stern.
Our crew was Greek, and the captain’s name Tanûs el Bawàb. Every thing
was in such confusion that Giovanni could find no where to make my bed:
so I slept on a mat on the deck without bed or covering, and when I
awoke I was nearly soaked with the dew.
In the morning, at sunrise, the sailors, standing on the forecastle,
the ship’s head being towards the east, made the sign of the cross
repeatedly, bending the body forward at each sign, and mumbling their
prayers. We remained the whole of this day in the offing at anchor;
partly because the wind was foul, and partly to receive on board
other things, so that I expressed my fears that the ship would sink
from the weight she had in her. Nor was my alarm diminished, when,
in conversation, I discovered that this was the very polacca, which,
whilst we were at Acre in March, was driven on shore under the window
of the caravansery and bilged.
If the Greek sailors are generally more attentive to Europeans, when
passengers, than the Turks, (although I am not disposed to allow this
to the same extent that many are) still there is something disgusting
in the filth and nastiness of the former compared with the clean hands
and persons of the latter.
On the 14th of October, we weighed anchor at half-past eleven; and
I bade adieu, for the second time, to the shores of Egypt. There was
little wind, and we advanced but slowly. The whole of Saturday the
wind was east, and we made scarcely any way: on Sunday and Monday it
was the same. This constant calm became at last extremely irksome. On
Tuesday and Wednesday the ship lay like a log in the water: so that the
sailors bathed around her. The shore was visible, and it was judged
that we were yet below Gaza. Gebel Ky was likewise in sight. Sometimes
the sailors fancied there was a mummy on board, which, according to
their superstitions, brings ill luck. Many schemes were resorted to
for raising the wind. Night and morning, incense was burned from stem
to stern: and a contribution was levied for St. Elias of Mount Carmel.
When these means were ineffectual, application was made to me to write
a charm on a piece of paper, to be suspended to the boom-end. As I
expressed my doubts whether I had any control over the winds, they told
me a story to prove how a Mograbýn (a native of Barbary, which country
produces all the conjurors in Turkey) had, when they were becalmed, by
a few written mystical characters, produced not only a fair wind but
almost a storm. I answered to this that I really was afraid I could
not do so much: but, if a breeze would content them, fair or foul, I
ventured to say I could promise it. Accordingly, I invoked “Libs, Notus
Auster,” in verses as musical as those from which I borrowed their
names: and, to the great delight of every one, towards evening a breeze
sprung up from west-south-west, and we advanced rapidly towards our
destination.
We saw Tontûra at a distance as we sailed along, and, on Friday the
21st, we entered Acre. I went on shore, and betook myself to Signor
Catafago’s, who gave me a lodging at the house of a friend.
On the following day, I called on Mâlem Haym, who was confined to his
house by an inflammation in his only eye. He talked on the state of
Europe: and, if any one be curious to know what his summary of politics
was, he concluded by saying that England had gained nothing by a bloody
and expensive war but a rock--meaning Malta.
Signor Morando, the pasha’s doctor, showed me his collection of
intaglios. One, which was an agate, had more than a dozen figures,
representing the heathen gods assembled, with a long Greek inscription,
and on the back of it a number of alphas in a row. This I considered
very curious and valuable. He had likewise a votive leg of exquisite
workmanship in marble. I became acquainted with Abûna Yusef Marôn, a
Maronite priest, who for a certain sum procured for me a catalogue of
the library at the new mosque, which had been collected at a very great
expense by Gezzàr Pasha, consisting of eleven thousand volumes.[78]
At sunset, on the 24th, as the harbour gate shuts at that hour, I went
on board to sleep: and the next morning the vessel was warped out of
port, not without considerable difficulty.
When getting under way, our rudder caught on a cable, and we nearly
drove on a rock, which would surely have wrecked the vessel. The
harbour-master, Ali Shemass, and his companion, Abu Katûr, followed
me on board with the customary request of a bakhshýsh.[79] We had
light airs all day. Just before sunset we were near Tyre. We supped,
and every body went to sleep, not excepting the man at the helm; for,
although we were destined for Tyre, he suffered the ship to pass the
port during the night, and in the morning we were eight or ten miles
beyond it. We put back; and, after losing nearly twenty-four hours
through the steersman’s negligence, anchored in the harbour of Tyre.
I landed my luggage; and was somewhat surprised when the captain
demanded payment for my passage, Mâlem Surûr having insisted, before my
departure, that no mention should be made on that subject, the vessel
being his. However, when he afterwards heard what the räis had done,
he made him refund the money, and sent it back again to me. I hired
some mules; and, on the following evening, reached Abra, after an
absence of three months.
Having made some few arrangements at Abra, I rode up to Meshmûshy,
where Lady Hester still was, on the fifth of November, accompanied
by Abu Yusef Jahjah, the proprietor of the house at Meshmûshy, who
happened to have been at Sayda on business. At Kefferfelûs, a village
on our road, he said he had an old acquaintance where we might
breakfast: but the good lady (for her husband was away) produced
nothing but eggs fried in oil, which she boasted of as some of the best
_tefáh_ oil in the country. Tefáh oil means oil skimmed off by
the hands from the surface of the water in which the olives have been
boiled, in opposition to the other manner, in which it is pressed, and
supposed to be less pure.