CHAPTER XIV

MEDICAL MISSION WORK IN YEZD [4]

A hospital--A friendly governor--A suspicious

case--Superstition--The opium habit--A case of cataract--We return

to England.

"By medicine life may be prolonged....

With the help of a surgeon he may yet recover."

Shakespeare.

The last of our three years' sojourn in Persia was spent in Yezd. Here

there was already a small Mission Hospital, all the pioneer work having

been done by Dr. White of the C.M.S. A wealthy Parsee merchant had

presented the site for a hospital in the form of an old caravanserai

(an Eastern inn). This had been gutted and made into a nice little

hospital, with an out-patient department. Dr. White being on furlough,

the doctor taking his place in Yezd exchanged with me, as it was

hoped that my wife would be able better to stand the lower altitude

of Yezd than the heights of Kerman. Yezd is an island city in a sea

of sand. The waves, driven by the winds, surge against the city walls

and threaten to engulf the whole place. At some parts of the wall,

the drifted sand reaches almost to the level of the wall itself.

The Governor of Yezd during the time we lived there was

H.R.H. Jalal-el-Dowleh, the eldest son of the Prince-Governor of

Isphahan (the Zil-es-Sultan). The Jalal-el-Dowleh had the reputation,

like his father, of being a strong man, and ruled with a firm hand. He

had already proved a good friend to the Mission, and was accustomed

to pay a state visit once yearly to the hospital, where, after being

entertained at the doctor's house, he would proceed to make a very

thorough tour of inspection, and before leaving would hand the English

doctor a sealed envelope containing the munificent sum of L40 as a

donation. During our stay in Yezd we saw a good deal of the governor,

and I had to add to my duties those of court physician.

In Yezd, as in other Persian cities, there are many quacks, who not

unnaturally resent the presence of a European doctor. I had not been

long in the city before I made the acquaintance of some of these

gentry, in a somewhat dramatic manner.

Early one morning I was hurriedly called to the house of the chief

native doctor, as his brother had been taken seriously ill.

On entering the patient's room, I found it crowded with his friends,

the patient himself lying upon a mattress placed on the ground. One

glance at the patient sufficed: he was dead, and had apparently been

so for some hours. When I announced the fact to the brother, he became

very angry, and assured me that I was mistaken. He begged me to pour

some medicine down the man's throat, or to do something to rouse him,

as he had only fainted!

Upon further inquiry, I found that he had been poorly for some days,

and his brother had been treating him. My suspicions were aroused, as

the brother and his friends crowded round me, imploring that English

medicines should be tried, and after further careful examination only

served to confirm my first opinion, I refused absolutely to comply with

their entreaties, and left the house with my assistant. The brother and

some of his friends pursued us, offering large fees if only we would

give some medicine, absolutely refusing to accept my verdict. It is a

necessary custom in Persia and the East generally, to bury a dead body

within a few hours of death, but we heard that the brother refused to

allow this corpse to be buried for three whole days, alleging that the

English doctor was mistaken: however, in the end they were obliged to

bury him. The native doctor was strongly suspected of having poisoned

his brother, and this doubtless accounted for the urgent manner in

which he begged me to pour something down the dead man's throat,

so that he could accuse me of being responsible for his death.

All Persians are superstitious, and are great believers in goblins

and 'jinns.' One day a young man was brought to me suffering from

an acute attack of chorea (St. Vitus' dance). He was well educated,

and had been employed as a clerk in a merchant's office: now he was

unable to hold a pen in his hand, and exhibited all the symptoms

of the disease in a very marked degree. He was promptly admitted to

hospital, and discharged cured in a few weeks. According to his own

statement the cause of the attack was as follows. He had gone for a

walk in the desert outside the city after his day's work was over,

and had wandered on further than usual. Suddenly he came across an old

well, and round the well were numbers of hideous dwarf-like goblins

pelting each other with stones. When they saw him they crowded round

laughing, jeering, pulling his clothes, and then began to pelt him

with stones. He turned and fled, running the whole way back to the

city, and to this shock he attributed the commencement of his symptoms.

In my last chapter I referred to the prevalence of the opium habit in

Kerman, but we found many addicted to it also in Yezd. So much was

this the case, that I started admitting some of those who expressed

a desire to give up the habit into the hospital, submitting them to

a special treatment, with very good results. It was a curious sight

to see these patients grouped together in the ward, smoking their

carefully weighed out amount of opium, which was gradually reduced

day by day, until they could go without altogether.

The opium habit is in truth a curse, but upon one occasion I really

believe it greatly helped to save a man's life. It happened in this

way. A well-known merchant in Yezd was found in his house apparently

sleeping. His women-folk, unable to rouse him, became alarmed, and sent

for me. I found the patient unconscious, exhibiting every symptom

of belladonna poisoning. An excited crowd, as usual, collected,

watching us as we tried every possible means of saving the poor

fellow's life. Strychnine and morphia had been injected, cold water

poured on his face, all without avail: there was no sign of returning

consciousness. A happy thought struck me. Turning to some of the men

in the crowd, I asked whether they were opium-smokers. Three or four

somewhat shamefacedly acknowledged that they did a little, so I ordered

them to bring a pipe and a little of the drug. Then I made them sit

round the patient's body, take the pipe in turn, and as they smoked,

puff out the smoke into the patient's face, occasionally blowing

it into his nostrils, and down his throat. I confess that I had but

little hope of any good result, but what was my delight and surprise,

after about a quarter of an hour's perseverance in the treatment, to

see unmistakable signs of recovery in the patient's face. His widely

dilated pupils began to contract, and soon he returned to consciousness

and was able to sit up. On the following day I found him quite well,

and thoroughly enjoying the sensation that his marvellous recovery

had made in the city. Hundreds of people had been to see him, and

I am a little afraid that the value of the opium as a "cure-all"

was not diminished by the incident!

We had quite a number of cataract patients in the hospital, many

coming several days' journey for operation. A small hospital for women

had been started, and a lady doctor had been sent to take charge. The

first case admitted was an old lady with cataract. When the day arrived

for the operation, everything went well at first, but in the middle

of the operation the patient started up screaming. She said she had

seen a snake, and she thought it was going to bite her. Her vision

cost her dearly, the operation necessarily being spoilt, and the eye

lost, but unfortunately it also kept away other patients suffering

from the same disease, but only for a short time, the lady doctor

soon winning their confidence, and finding more work on her hands

than she could comfortably get through.

After a very happy year in Yezd, my wife's health still remaining

unsatisfactory, we were obliged to leave Persia, and return to England

for a short rest. Both of us were grieved at having to leave a country

and people that we had learnt to love, and amongst whom we had hoped

to spend our lives.

Medical Missions in Persia have already worked wonders, breaking down

opposition, winning friends even amongst the most fanatical. Here is

not the place to speak of results, neither would it be wise to do so,

but I would like once for all definitely and decisively to repudiate

the oft-quoted statement, often made, unfortunately, by Christians

who should be better informed, "that it is impossible for a Mohammedan

to become a Christian." With God all things are possible!

PART II

CHAPTER I

THE CITY OF NINEVEH

The city of Nineveh--The fast of Jonah--The bridge of

boats--Traditions as to ancient history of Mosul--Alkosh,

birthplace of Nahum the prophet--Shurgat--Climate of

Mosul--Cultivation and industries--Importance of Mosul.

"A ruin, yet what ruin! from its mass

Walls, palaces, half cities have been reared.

Heroes have trod this spot--'tis on their dust ye tread."

Byron.

"Nineveh, an exceeding great city of three days' journey."

The ancient city of Nineveh, the former capital of the Assyrian Empire,

is situated on the eastern bank of the river Tigris. Little is to be

seen to-day of the once famous city but huge mounds of earth which

cover the site of this historical and interesting place. There are two

principal mounds, separated from each other by a small rivulet. The

larger of these is called Kouyunjik, the smaller Nabbi Eunice. The

former contains the ruins of the palace of Sennacherib, before whom

Jonah stood and delivered his message; but nothing now remains to

tell of its former glory and wealth. When we first visited the spot

over three years ago, there was one huge man-headed lion remaining,

and a few pieces of sculpture representing fish swimming in water,

&c. But now even these have disappeared, for about eighteen months ago

the Turkish Government sold all the visible remains of Nineveh for the

enormous sum of two Turkish liras (36s.)! the buyer grinding everything

to powder, including the huge statue, for purposes of building!

Nineveh is best seen to-day at the British Museum or the Louvre, Paris,

as both of these places contain many interesting and valuable remains

of that city. Nineveh was closed to excavators about four years ago,

but it is hoped that investigations will be renewed again in the

near future, as there still remain thirteen rooms of the palace to

be examined.

The other and smaller mound, known as Nabbi Eunice (Prophet Jonah),

was once the site of a church named after the prophet, on account of

the tradition that he preached upon that spot. The church stands to

this day, but is used as a mosque, as it now belongs to the Moslems,

who venerate the place as being the tomb of the prophet.

They accept the whole story of Jonah's mission to Nineveh and

the adventures he encountered en route, as we have it recorded in

Holy Scripture. It is an interesting fact, too, that year by year

the inhabitants of Mosul, Christians and Moslems alike, keep in

remembrance the three days of fasting and repentance mentioned in

the Book of Jonah. The fast is still kept for three days, by some

very strictly, while others keep it from sunset to sunset, only

eating once a day. Every one may please herself as to the severity

of her fasting, but almost all join in the remembrance of those three

memorable days in the history of Nineveh. "Herself" is used advisedly,

as it is especially kept by women who are seeking some particular gift

from God, and they will often fast absolutely for the three days,

not even allowing a drop of water to touch their lips. They hope by

so doing that God will hear their prayers, even as He answered the

petitions of the Ninevites of old. The memory of Jonah is perpetuated,

too, in Mosul by parents naming their boys after the prophet, Eunice

being quite a favourite name amongst Christians, Moslems, and Jews.

The tomb of Jonah is guarded very zealously by the Mohammedans

against the Christians, and it is very difficult for the latter to

gain admission to the interior of the building. A friend staying

with us in Mosul was very anxious to see the tomb, so we rode over

to Nabbi Eunice one day, but the mullah in charge politely but firmly

refused us permission to enter beyond the portal!

Kouyunjik is now a favourite place for picnics from Mosul, and in

the early spring a day spent amongst the old ruins of Nineveh is

very delightful. It is too hot in summer, as there is no shade. From

the top of the mounds we have a beautiful view of Mosul, with the

Tigris in the foreground and the mountains stretching away on either

side. It is not considered safe for any one to wander about alone on

the mounds; the natives will never go there alone after dusk. Some

years ago two Europeans who were passing through Mosul visited Nineveh

by themselves. As they were rambling over the old remains, one said

to his companion, "I am going round there," indicating a projecting

piece of marble. His companion waited and waited, and as his friend

did not return went in search of him, but not a sign of him could

be seen. After seeking in every possible place without success, he

returned to Mosul to institute a search party, but all efforts proved

fruitless, and to this day nothing has been discovered as to the fate

of this man. Whether he fell down some disused shaft or was carried

off by Arabs is not known, and probably will always remain a mystery.

Mosul is connected with Nineveh by an old bridge of boats, which

probably existed in the days of Jonah. There are twenty-one or

twenty-two of these old-fashioned flat-bottomed boats, fastened

together by heavy chains, a platform of wood being laid from boat

to boat and the whole covered with earth. This part of the bridge is

movable, and is connected at one end with the mainland by a permanent

stone bridge consisting of thirty-three arches. In the spring, when

the rush of water is very strong consequent upon the snow melting in

the mountains, it is loosened at one end and allowed to swing with

the current. Sometimes, however, the river rises suddenly, carrying

the bridge away and playing havoc with the banks. When this takes

place it is very difficult to replace the bridge. Often for weeks

together the bridge is not open, and all traffic across the river has

to be conveyed by boats, the owner of the ferries reaping a golden

harvest. The toll of the bridge is taken by a man who rents it from

the Government. He is said to be one of the richest men in Mosul. Foot

passengers are allowed to pass freely, but all four-footed beasts have

a small charge levied on them ranging from a halfpenny to twopence,

and carriages are charged half a mejideh (1s. 8d.). As some thousands

of camels, mules, and donkeys are continually passing to and fro,

it is no wonder that the toll-collector is a rich man.

I am not at all fond of riding across this bridge; it is not very

wide, and camels jostle you on one side with their huge burdens,

donkeys and mules vie with each other in trying to pass on the other,

quite oblivious of the fact that there is no room; while underneath

the river rushes madly on. Altogether, I always heave a sigh of relief

when the opposite bank is safely reached.

There are many traditions as to the probable origin of Mosul, but

its true early history is involved in obscurity. The following has

been gleaned from some of the many traditions circulated amongst

its inhabitants.

Mosul is said to have been built some four thousand years ago,

and was then a small village consisting of a few houses built of

mud. This village was believed to be the fourth village built after the

Flood. About four days' journey from Mosul there is a mountain called

Judy, on which the ark is supposed to have rested after the Flood. The

natives living near this mountain say it must be Mount Ararat, because

close by grows the only olive tree for miles around! and also they have

in their possession enormous wooden nails said to have been used in the

construction of the ark! These nails were found on the mountain many

years ago. At the foot of this mountain lies a village which claims to

have the honour of being the first built after the Flood. Quite near

by is another small town called Jezirah, which is said to have been

the second village to spring into existence, while some village in

Egypt takes the third place, and Mosul the fourth! If these traditions

are to be trusted, then Mosul has indeed a right to be termed ancient.

Some 1260 years ago Omar el Khattab the Calipha conquered Jerusalem

and Damascus, and then turned his attention to Mosul. He sent down

one of his chiefs named Eyath, son of Ghoonum, to besiege Mosul,

with orders to convert the city to Mohammedanism at all costs, if

necessary at the point of the sword. Many of the inhabitants at that

time were Parsees, belonging to the old fire-worshipping religion;

others were called "Charamika," but no trace of their belief has been

found. These and many others were converted to Mohammedanism by the

strong argument of the sword.

In the twelfth century Mosul had a sovereignty of its own, a brother

of the Sultan of Damascus then reigning over this province. In 1180

it withstood the armies of the famous Saladin, who was a native

of a town some five days' ride from Mosul. In the thirteenth and

fourteenth centuries it suffered defeat from the hands of its

enemies, and in 1743 Nadir Shah of Persia bombarded the town for

forty days. Since then Mosul has suffered much from time to time

through various causes--from the cruelties of some of its governors,

from a famine caused by the crops being utterly destroyed by locusts,

and also from the plague which visited it in 1831 and left the town

almost a desert. It is stated that 100,000 people perished at that

time from this terrible scourge.

The walls surrounding Mosul are very old. They were built, in the

first instance, about 2000 years ago by a man named Marvan, one of

the kings of a tribe called "Umayya." They were repaired 170 years

ago by Hadji Hussein Pasha, one of the Abdul Jaleel family. They are

now in many places fast falling into ruin, and are in great need of

restoration. These walls are pierced by about twelve gates, which

are shut at sunset or soon after.

About five hours' journey from Mosul is the little village of Elkosh,

believed by many to have been the birthplace of the prophet Nahum,

and also the scene of his life-work and burial. This village, now

inhabited by Chaldeans, is reverenced by Moslems and Christians

alike, but more especially is it looked upon as a holy place by

the Jews. There is a synagogue in which is supposed to lie the tomb

of the prophet; to this the Jews flock for the yearly pilgrimage,

having done so from time immemorial.

Kalah Shurgat is another interesting place, situated two days' journey

from Mosul. It consists of an old Assyrian ruin, said to be the remains

of the ancient city of Asshur. The Germans have been excavating there

for some years, and are doing it very thoroughly. The whole ground

floor of the palace and temple are laid bare, and are in a wonderful

state of preservation. One of the excavators pointed out to us the

"bathroom" of the palace, running through which was a mono-rail,

evidently having been constructed for the purpose of conveying water

from the reservoir to the bath. This tram-line must have been one

of the first ever invented! It was simply a groove cut in the marble

floor, on which probably a one-wheeled trolley ran.

The climate of Mosul is a very variable one, the summers being

excessively hot and the winters cold.

During the hot months all the inhabitants sleep at night on their

roofs, starting about the 1st of June, and continuing to do so for

five months, or till the first rains come. Many of the houses are

provided with "sirdabs" or underground rooms, for use during the

middle part of the day. The marble from which most of the houses

are built retains the heat of the sun so long that they do not cool

down in the evenings; on account of this, as the summer wears on,

the houses become almost unbearable with accumulated heat. For this

reason we generally try to go away somewhere for a month's holiday in

August or September. There are no cool places near Mosul, and to find

a suitable summer retreat it is necessary to go three or four days'

journey. For two years we only went to a large house about three miles

from Mosul, kindly lent us by a patient of my husband's. Here the

heat was intense during the day, but the evenings were delightfully

cool as a rule, for the river ran at the foot of the garden.

The winters in Mosul are often very cold. Two years ago the Tigris was

nearly frozen over, and for three days the only water we could obtain

was from melted snow. The cold was so severe that men died as they

sat at their work. While such cold weather lasted it was impossible to

keep the patients in the hospital, as having no stoves in the wards we

were not able to warm them sufficiently. But this was a record winter,

there having been no such frost for one hundred and fifty years.

Spring and autumn are beautiful seasons in Mosul, especially,

perhaps, the former. During March, April, and part of May the land

for many miles around Mosul is green with waving corn--a refreshing

sight for weary eyes. When the grass is about a foot in height, all

the inhabitants pitch tents outside the town and spend their days

there. Those who have horses tether them in front of their tents, and

allow them to eat grass to their hearts' content. A friend lent us a

tent last year, and for a month or six weeks we enjoyed the luxury of

green scenery! Every day some of our congregation were able to get out,

each of us taking our turn at providing afternoon tea. It was such

a relief to get away from the heat of the city walls, and to enjoy,

if only for a short time, the lovely fresh air of the corn-fields!

The autumn days are very pleasant too, but as a rule this season is

only too short. The summers last till the rains begin, and then almost

at once cold weather sets in. The most trying part of the whole year

comes towards the end of summer, when the clouds "come up." It is

very marvellous the way the natives can tell, almost to a day, when to

expect the first clouds. They generally last from ten to twelve days,

and the relief is great when they depart. On the whole the climate

of Mosul seems to be a healthy one. At certain times of the year

malarial fever is very prevalent, but, "alhamd'llillah!" neither of

us have ever contracted it.

The highest degree of heat registered in the coolest part of our house

is 110 deg, but the average heat of the three hottest months is about 98 deg.

to 105 deg.

Three to four months of this kind of heat is generally quite enough!

The land round Mosul is cultivated to a great extent, corn being

the chief product. The success of the crops, however, is entirely

dependent upon the winter and spring rains. Should the rainfall

be great, the harvest is abundant; but if the season is a dry one,

then the result is disastrous. Mr. Layard speaks of one such occasion

when, during the whole of the winter and spring, no rain fell. As a

consequence of this, the crop failed and famine ravaged the land. This

famine is still spoken of in Mosul as something never to be forgotten,

and many events are marked as dating from "the famine." Some are not

ashamed to own that they made their fortunes during that awful time,

by storing corn and then selling it at famine prices; while others,

who had been prosperous merchants till that year, were then rendered

penniless, and have never been able to retrieve their fortunes. There

are a few rude wheels constructed along the banks of the Tigris for

the purpose of irrigation; but as these are highly taxed by the local

government, they are by no means general. This mode of raising water

is very simple but expensive, as it requires the labour of several

men and at least two animals, either oxen or mules.

Gardens near the town are irrigated in this way, either by drawing

water from the river or from deep wells, but the great stretch of

land sown with corn is dependent for its nourishment on the rainfall.

Cotton is also grown and exported. Melons, cucumbers, and tomatoes

are cultivated very largely, and as the river recedes in the summer,

the moist bed is sown with water-melon seeds, which flourish splendidly

in the damp soil.

Fruit is largely grown in the mountains, and brought down on

donkeys. Apricots are very abundant; cherries, plums, peaches are

less plentiful. The best apples are brought from Damascus; they look

good, but are flavourless. Grapes are very largely cultivated, and are

brought to great perfection. The large black kind are very delicious;

there is also a white grape which has a very sweet flavour. Vegetables

of all kinds are grown in the gardens near Mosul: beans, peas, spinach,

carrots (red), beetroot, onions, artichokes, as well as many other

varieties. Potatoes are brought from Persia, and sometimes suffer

so much from the long journey that they are only fit to be thrown

away when they reach Mosul. Last winter several hundreds of sacks

of potatoes were thrown into the river at Mosul, as they had been

frostbitten on the journey from Persia, and so were useless.

"Manna" is found in the mountains, and is collected and sent to Mosul,

where it is made into a sweetmeat called "halawwi."

The industries of Mosul are chiefly spinning and weaving. A very strong

kind of cotton cloth is woven, also calico and woollen goods. Many

years ago this industry was much larger than it is at present, and

in those days Mosul gave its name to muslin, a fabric exported by

the French from that town in the last century. Weaving is done by

men, while the women do the spinning and dyeing of the cotton or

wool. Weaving is a very favourite occupation, as the weaver can do

just as much or as little as he likes, being paid accordingly. For

this reason a man who is inclined to be lazy would much rather be a

weaver than a servant.

Furs are largely exported from Mosul. The skin of the fox is most

common, but there is another fur much resembling the sable which

is highly prized amongst the natives, a coat lined with this fur

costing something like L50. Some years ago furs could be bought

quite cheaply in Mosul, but the merchants finding a good market for

their goods in Europe, the prices soon went up, and now even fox is

becoming expensive.

The industries of Mosul are not what they were, but we trust better

days are coming, when the old prosperity of the town will be renewed

and increased.

The three great questions now under consideration with regard to

the land of Mesopotamia will have great influence on the future

of Mosul. The first is the navigation of the Tigris from Baghdad to

Mosul. This, when an accomplished fact, will make a great difference in

the export and import trade of the city. The Baghdad railway will also

greatly increase the importance of Mosul, for the line running through

it will bring the East in close touch with the near West. Perhaps the

most important subject of all in connection with the future of Mosul

is that of the irrigation of Mesopotamia, which, once accomplished,

will turn the whole of that vast desert into a garden. The means to

be employed for this end are simply the reviving of the old Assyrian

method of irrigation. This method consisted in the digging of canals

to intersect the land between the rivers Tigris and Euphrates. Maps

of these same canals are still to be seen in the British Museum

and other places, and are of great interest. These great canals,

made in the prosperous days of the Assyrian Empire, are now choked

up, after having been in use for many centuries by the inhabitants

of the country. Layard, in his "Discoveries at Nineveh," says,

"Herodotus describes the extreme fertility of Assyria and its abundant

harvests of corn, the seed producing two and three hundred-fold";

and adds later, "But in his day the Assyrians depended as much upon

artificial irrigation as upon the winter rains. They were skilful

in constructing machines for raising water, and their system of

canals was as remarkable for its ingenuity as for the knowledge of

hydraulics it displayed." Since the result of irrigation in those

ancient days was two to three hundred-fold, surely if carried out

to-day with the additional knowledge of modern science and experience

the ground would yield an even larger return. It has been estimated

that L8,000,000 would be sufficient to reopen all the old canals of

Mesopotamia, with the certainty that the land thus irrigated would

yield an abundant profit.

"Ensha'allah," this much-talked-of scheme will soon be carried out,

and Mesopotamia become once more "a land of corn and wine, a land of

bread and vineyards, a land of olive oil and of honey."

CHAPTER II

THE PEOPLE OF MOSUL

Population--Moslems--Christians--Chaldeans--Nestorians--Jacobites

--Arabs--Kurds--Jews--Yezidees--Recreations--Warfare of the

slingers--Hammam Ali--The recreation ground of Mosul men and women.

"... The world is great,

But each has but his own land in the world."

A. C. Swinburne.

The population of Mosul has been estimated to be anything between

sixty and eighty thousand people. If the whole "vilayet" is included

the number will be something like a million and a half. These people

are made up of many different nationalities and tribes, each retaining

its own leading characteristics, whilst many have a language peculiar

to themselves.

The inhabitants of Mosul are chiefly Arabs, of whom by far the larger

part are Mohammedans. These of course form the strong religious element

in the city, as they are the conquerors of the land. This is a fact,

too, which they take care never to lose sight of. In the market, the

mosque, and the street, the Mohammedan is always proclaiming by look,

word, and deed that he is the master. A Christian finds himself at

a great disadvantage in the market, for when buying from a Moslem he

is not allowed to handle the food, and must purchase his goods to a

great extent on trust.

In all mosques, which once were Christian churches, it is customary

for the mullah to preach with a naked sword in his hand. This is

done in order to remind the people that the Mohammedan religion was

propagated by the sword, and must, if necessary, be retained by the

same means. In the streets the difference is very marked between the

two, the Mohammedan behaving as if the whole place belonged to him,

while the Christians, and more especially the Jews, always appear as

if they were apologising for their very existence.

The Moslems are the rulers, and they make their power felt. An amusing

instance illustrating this feeling occurred a short time ago. A little

Moslem boy was walking through the street on his way to our house when,

apparently without any provocation, a Christian girl began to revile

him as he passed. The boy instantly turned on the girl and gave her a

thrashing. I did not hear anything of this for some days, and then only

in an indirect way. Some one told me that the boy had received a severe

beating from the master of the school which he was attending, and on

asking the reason of the punishment was told the foregoing story. I

am very fond of the boy, he is such a dear, bright little chap, with

great wondering eyes. Upon hearing the history of his encounter with

the girl, I sent for the boy, and tried to tell him how wrong it was

for a man to strike a woman. "But," said the boy, quite innocently,

"she was a Christian!" Thus early in life is instilled into the young

mind of the Moslem his inherent right to act the tyrant.

On the other hand, it is a strange truth that Moslems very often prefer

to have Christian servants in their houses, as they find they are more

faithful. In many hareems the "slaves," or girls who have been bought

for life, are very often children of Christian parents, who have been

willing for a few pounds to sell their girls. The reverse of this is

also true, that Christian families often find that a Moslem servant

is more trustworthy than one of their own religion. A few months

ago I heard of a little black boy in Mosul, whose mother, a Moslem

negress, was anxious to find him a home. We offered to take the boy and

bring him up, but the mother absolutely refused our offer, as we were

Christians, and she was afraid her boy might become the same, as he was

then only one year old, and had not yet learnt to hate the Christians!

There are some 15,000 to 20,000 Christians in Mosul, who are said

to date their conversion back to the time of St. Adday, who was a

disciple of St. Thomas; others migrated from Baghdad to Mosul at

the time of the Caliphas. These Christians have remained firm to the

religion of their forefathers in spite of much persecution and many

trials. To-day in Mosul there are many different sects of Christians

to be found, viz. the Chaldean, Syrian, Nestorian, Jacobite, Armenian,

and Greek. The Chaldeans in Mosul now entirely belong to the Romish

Church, having been admitted to that body about a hundred years ago by

means of the Dominican Mission who started work amongst these ancient

Christians. They have their own bishop and archbishop, the Patriarch

making Mosul his headquarters since 1256.

The Nestorians are the true Chaldeans, and repudiate the name

Nestorian. They live amongst the mountains, have resisted all

efforts of the Romish Church, and remain true to the faith of

their fathers. They, in common with the other Christians, date

their Christianity from the time of the Apostles as the converts

of St. Thomas. They refuse to accept Nestorius, the Patriarch

of Constantinople, as their founder, saying that he was a Greek,

while they were Syrians. They assert that "he did not even know our

language, and so how could he have propagated his doctrines among

us?" and they also declare that their religion was an established

fact long before Nestorius was born. They have their own Patriarch,

who resides near Van, a distance of ten days from Mosul. They regard

the Pope and his followers with feelings of great hatred, and are said

to curse him and his forefathers regularly every day. In answer to a

message from the Pope urging reconciliation with Rome, the Patriarch

sent the following answer: "I shall never become a Roman Catholic,

and should you ever induce my people to do so, I would sooner become a

dervish or a mullah than degrade myself by an alliance with the Pope."

The Patriarch of the Nestorians is not allowed to marry; he is also

compelled to be a strict vegetarian. When it is thought advisable

to nominate a successor to the archbishopric, the wife of a near

relative (if possible, a brother) of the then Patriarch is chosen

as the possible mother of the future dignitary. She is set apart as

holy till the birth of her child, her diet meanwhile being strictly

vegetarian. If the child proves to be a boy, he is solemnly dedicated

to God from his birth, and is never allowed to touch meat or flesh

of any kind. Should the child unfortunately be a girl, the choice

has to be made again, and great is the disappointment of the mother,

the honour of being the mother of a Patriarch being much coveted

and prized.

In 1843 these people suffered a terrible massacre at the hands of

the Kurds; 10,000 of them are said to have perished, and after being

hunted from place to place the Patriarch finally fled for refuge to

the English Consulate at Mosul.

The Jacobite section of the Christian Church in Mosul is a small one,

and so far remains firm to its old faith, resisting all attempts by the

Church of Rome to effect a union. It, too, has its own bishop in Mosul,

but the Patriarch resides in Mardin, where he has many thousands of

adherents. He pays periodical visits to his scattered flock in Mosul

and the surrounding country. They trace the origin of their name to one

Jacob Baradaeus, a Reformer who arose in the sixth century, and refusing

to follow the lead of the other Syrians in joining the Romish Church,

continued in the old faith, which has since been called by his name

(an alternative name being the Old Syrian Church).

The population of Mosul also consists of Arabs, Kurds, Yezidees,

and Jews.

The Arabs are the original inhabitants of the desert, who date their

descent back to the time of Shem, the son of Noah. They are divided

into many tribes, of which the most important in Mesopotamia is that

of the great Shammar clan, who are to be found in all parts. There

are three classes of Arabs, namely, those who have settled down in

one place and become town Arabs, such as the inhabitants of Mosul:

the wandering tribes of the desert or Bedouins, who live in tents

and whose occupation is sheep farming: a third class of Arabs are

the robbers of the desert, who subsist solely by plunder, and roam

the desert seeking for a livelihood by any means that may come to

their hand. The wandering tribes find it very hard to settle down

to a fixed abode after the free life of the desert, and they prefer

often to suffer pain and inconvenience rather than spend a few days

or weeks beneath a roof and within the walls of a hospital.

A story is told of a Bedouin lady of the seventh century, whose husband

rose afterwards to be one of the Caliphs. When taken to Damascus to

live in luxury and state, she pined for the freedom of the desert,

and gave utterance to her loneliness in the following verses:--

"A tent with rustling breezes cool

Delights me more than palace high,

And more the cloak of simple wool

Than robes in which I learned to sigh.

The crust I ate beside my tent

Was more than this fine bread to me;

The wind's voice where the hill-path went

Was more than tambourine can be." [5]

Arab women have come to the hospital from time to time, but they

always long to return to their desert life, and are impatient at the

restraints of town life.

The Kurds are a warlike people inhabiting the mountains round

Mosul. They are the descendants of the wild people of the mountains

mentioned by Xenophon as the Karduchi, who so severely harassed the

Greeks during their retreat. In later years they were known as the

Parthians, who opposed the Romans. From this people came the celebrated

Saladin, the opponent of Richard Coeur de Lion in the crusading

days. The Kurds have been compared to the old Scottish Highlanders, who

were noted for their devotion to their chiefs. A well-known writer,

in speaking of this trait in the character of these people, says

that once he heard the following story: "A chieftain having died,

one of his followers, who was standing on the roof of his house

when the news of his master's death was brought to him, exclaimed,

'What! is the Beg dead? Then I will not live another moment,' and

immediately threw himself from the roof and was dashed to pieces."

A few of these Kurds are Nestorians, but the majority of them are

Moslems, and are a very fierce-looking set of people. They carry

as a rule large daggers in the waistband, and are quite capable of

using them when necessary. We once had a servant who was a Kurd,

and although as a rule a peaceable man, he often longed to be off

when he heard of any fighting going on in his country. He used to

boast to the other servants of the many people he had robbed and

murdered! but said of course he would never harm us, as we were in

the place of father and mother to him. We are quite hoping to secure

his services again on our return to Mosul.

There are about two thousand Jews in Mosul, who date their descent

from the time of the Captivity. When Cyrus issued his decree allowing

all Jews to return to their native land, about fifty thousand of

those living in Mesopotamia joyfully availed themselves of this

permission, but a few preferred to remain in their adopted land, and

their descendants are there to this day. In spite of much persecution,

they have remained firm in their belief. Mohammed quite hoped at first

that the Jews would easily be converted to Mohammedanism. He therefore

instructed all his followers to turn their faces towards the temple

at Jerusalem when praying, but before many months he saw that his

hopes in this direction were doomed to disappointment. He therefore

withdrew his former instructions, and ordained that in future all

Mohammedans should turn to the Ka'aba at Mecca when engaged in prayer.

The Jews in Mosul are looked down upon and despised by Christian and

Moslem alike. In the dispensary it is sad to see with what loathing

the Jews are treated. The scornful way in which the word "Yahudi"

(Jew) is hurled at these people is enough to make one's heart ache for

them. If there is anything degrading to be done, a Jew is the only

one to be found willing to do it. The Jews are the shoe-blacks of

Mosul. It being considered very degrading to clean boots and shoes,

the Jew undertakes this task, receiving payment at the rate of about

1/4d. a pair.

It is a wonderful sight to see all these different

nationalities--Moslems, Christians, Jews, Kurds, Arabs, Devil

Worshippers--all sitting down together in the waiting-room of the

dispensary while waiting their turn to see the doctor.

It reminds one of the picture of Peace, in which the artist depicts

the lion, the leopard, and the wolf living in harmony with the lamb. I

am afraid the resemblance is only superficial, for in the hearts of

that rude miscellaneous throng there is little of peace, and much of

anger, wrath, jealousy, hatred, and murder.

The dwellers in the desert and mountain would scorn the idea of

passing the time in recreations of any kind, but the town gentlemen

much enjoy a little relaxation from their arduous (?) labours. Riding

and racing are much in vogue in Mosul. Just outside one of the gates

is a long, level stretch of land, uncultivated, which is used by the

sporting part of the population for racing. Betting is not a part of

the programme. Any one who possesses a horse is at liberty to enter

it for the races; and every Thursday afternoon a large conclave of

people may be seen watching the performance with great interest. Horse

dealers who have horses for sale race their animals with the hope

that they will carry off the palm, in which case the value of the

horse is considerably raised.

A few of the Mosul men go in for hunting, but it is not a favourite

pastime. My husband sometimes goes with some of the Begs, who are fond

of hawking. The boys much enjoy slinging, and some of them are quite

experts at it, at times their aim being rather too accurate. The

spring is the season for slinging, and hundreds of boys may be

seen outside the town on a fine day armed with these instruments of

torture. They line up along the walls of the city, and take aim at

every passer-by. This is somewhat disconcerting, especially when some

little boy takes a shot at your horse's head or tail, a game of which

the animal does not at all approve. Or sometimes the boys form armies,

each opposing side being composed of an equal number of slingers. They

stand at a distance of about fifty yards apart and commence warfare

in real earnest. It is rather a terrible ordeal to have to run the

gauntlet of these two opposing armies. The stones seem to whizz round

one's head in a most alarming manner; but although my mare has received

a few stray shots of which she much disapproved, yet I have fortunately

never actually been hit. Occasionally boys become so vicious in their

excitement that the Government here has to put a stop to their "wars"

for a time, as they do so much injury to one another.

A form of recreation which is indulged in by all the Mosul people is

that of paying a yearly visit to a hot sulphur spring. This spring

is situated about twelve miles from Mosul on the Baghdad road, and

is called Hammam Ali.

A small village has grown up around the spring, but cannot furnish

anything like the accommodation needed for the thousands of visitors

who flock there in the early summer. To meet this need, small booths

are built of dried grass, each family renting one for the time of their

visit. Two years ago it was estimated that ten thousand people from

Mosul were there at one time, all congregated together without any

proper accommodation, or any sanitary arrangements; the consequence

was that disease and sickness were very prevalent amongst them,

and many went seeking health, and found death.

Last year a similar number were as usual gathered at Hammam Ali,

when one evening a lighted match was carelessly thrown down, with

the result that in a few minutes many of these booths were a mass of

flames. Several children were burnt to death and two women.

The next day the exodus from the place was universal. We were staying

then at a house midway between Mosul and Hammam Ali, and watched the

procession of people returning, a steady stream from morning till

night. After a day or two, however, the sad episode was forgotten,

and visitors began to flock back again.

We once saw this celebrated place. It was on our way to Mosul, and we

arrived late one night at Hammam Ali, minus our tent. The villagers

kindly offered us the use of the Hammam (bath) for the night, so

we made a tour of inspection, but decided to decline their offer

with thanks.

The place was damp, dirty, and malodorous. We preferred to pass the

night in a stable, which looked a trifle more inviting, although

full of rat-holes. In the morning I paid a visit to the Hammam, as

it was a ladies' bathing day, and found the bath crowded with women

and children, packed in like sardines in a box! The water was very

hot, and I wondered the women could stand so long in it. Some of them

looked rather as if they had been boiled. Here were women and children,

apparently healthy, bathing in the same water as others suffering

from all manner of skin diseases and other horrible things. However,

they all looked perfectly happy and contented; and I would not grudge

these poor creatures any little pleasure which might help to brighten

their lives.

We shall see in the following chapters how little brightness they

possess, and, on the other hand, how much of sadness and sorrow.

CHAPTER III

THE RIVER TIGRIS

The river Tigris--Ancient historical interest--Garden of Eden--

Origin of name unknown--Swiftness--Sources--Navigation--Keleqs

--Bathing, fishing, washing--Crossing rivers.

"The softly lapsing river,

It whispers in its flow,

Of dear days gone for ever,

Those days of long ago."

P. B. Marston.

The river Tigris, on the banks of which Mosul is situated, is a

noble stream. Though inferior in length to its sister the Euphrates,

yet it is no mean rival, either in antiquity or historical fame. They

share together the distinction of having on their banks the romantic

spot reputed to be the Paradise of Adam and Eve. The Garden of Eden is

situated, according to the tradition of the country, near the junction

of the Euphrates and Tigris. When we passed that way on our journey

from Busrah to Baghdad, the land was flooded by the spring rains,

so we saw nothing of the beauties of Paradise.

The Tigris can also claim, in common with the Euphrates, an interesting

connection with some of the ancient kingdoms of the world, extending

back to early post-diluvian times. Near by, the Assyrian Empire

built its towns of splendour and strength. Daniel records visions

seen upon its banks, Cyrus is said to have marched his troops

along its shores, Alexander overthrew the armies of the Medes and

Persians near its basin, while in the plain of Nineveh the dynasty

of the Ommiade caliphs was destroyed and supplanted by that of the

Abassides. The origin of its name is unknown, but it is thought that

the swiftly-flowing character of the river gave rise to its name. Hence

the old Scriptural name Hiddekel, signifying "swift or quick." Owing

to its wealth of fertilising power, it is sometimes called by the

Arabs "Nahar-as-Salam," the River of Peace. At all times the Tigris

is a swift river, but the velocity with which it travels differs

according to the season of the year, the swiftest time of all being

in the spring, when the snows from all the surrounding mountains melt

and rush down to the river, causing it often to overflow its banks,

and increasing its impetuosity to a great extent. At this time it is

possible to travel on the river from Mosul to Baghdad in forty-eight

hours, while in the late summer or autumn it takes at least ten or

twelve days. When flowing at its fastest rate, the Tigris is said to

be swifter than the Danube. The course of the river is a very winding

one, extending for about 1040 miles. Its breadth varies very much. At

Mosul it is a little less than 400 feet, at Baghdad about 600, while

in one place where another river flows into it, the width amounts to

over 1000 feet.

The sources of the Tigris are at an altitude about 5000 feet above

sea-level, but the greater part of its fall is accomplished at

its commencement, by the time it reaches Mosul the elevation above

sea-level is only 353 feet, the remainder of its course, a distance

of about 650 miles, being made by easy descent.

With a very little trouble the river could easily be made navigable

as far up as Mosul, the chief hindrance to this being obstructions in

the river which could be removed by dynamite or other explosives. A

day's journey from Mosul by water there is a large dam stretching

right across the river, believed to have been built by Darius with the

intent to prevent Alexander from penetrating his dominions by means

of the river. When the Tigris is full this is not an insurmountable

barrier even as it exists now. During the summer and autumn the water

is very shallow, and steamers would find it difficult to reach Mosul,

but a little engineering could render the river navigable at all

seasons. Once or twice steamers have reached Mosul, thereby causing

great excitement amongst the natives. For the last thirty years it has

been the talk of Mosul that "steamers are coming," but they have not

yet started. We heard a year ago that two steamers had been chartered

for plying between Mosul and Baghdad, and were only awaiting a firman

from the Sultan, but so far nothing has been seen of them.

Pending the inauguration of steamers, the natives still continue

to use the same method of river transport as existed in the days of

Abraham and Jonah. This consists of a raft-like construction, and is

employed for both passenger and goods traffic. It is composed of a

number of sheep or goat skins inflated and fastened close together,

upon which cross-bars of wood are laid and bound firmly in place. The

skins are examined daily and when necessary reinflated; great care

must be taken to keep them moist, for if they become dry they are

liable to burst. The raft is manned by one or two natives, whose

only work is to guide the "keleq," as the raft is called, to keep

it in the middle of the stream, away from all dangerous rocks and

shoals. For this purpose a rough kind of oar is used, made from the

branch of a tree, with palm branches at the end forming the blade. The

keleq floats down the river with the current, the passengers amusing

themselves with singing and reciting stories.

When a European travels, a little hut is built for his convenience. A

light framework of lath is run up, just large enough to hold a

travelling bedstead and chair; this is covered with felt or water-proof

sheeting and placed upon the raft. On arrival at Baghdad the whole is

sold for about half its original price. The owner of the keleq sells

the planks of wood forming the floor of the raft, packs up carefully

his skins, and returns by land to Mosul, as the current is too strong

to allow of his return the same way as he came. He is then ready to

be hired for another journey. In good weather a journey on a raft

is a very pleasant mode of travelling. It has many advantages over

caravaning by land. There is no need of the early morning or midnight

scramble preparatory to the start. The owner simply ties up after

sunset, and as soon as dawn appears he quietly slips the rope, and

off the raft glides, while the passenger is still sweetly slumbering,

unconscious of any movement.

In summer, however, the river is the happy hunting-ground of flies

and mosquitoes, the result being that rest and sleep are impossible

either by day or night. In a storm, too, the keleq is not a very secure

place of refuge. An English lady travelling from Mosul to Baghdad

was once caught in a hurricane and her keleq blown about in such a

way that she expected every minute to find herself precipitated into

the river, while her little hut and all its contents were saturated

through and through with water.

A raft is a good target for the Arabs whose villages lie along the

banks of the river. An Englishman once placed his bicycle, which he

was taking home, on the top of his hut, thinking to keep it out of

harm's way. The Arabs, seeing this extraordinary-looking machine,

at once came to the conclusion that it was a Maxim gun or some such

deadly weapon. They immediately opened fire, and continued shooting

till the raft was out of sight--fortunately with no serious result.

The French Consul at Mosul was also attacked by Arabs when travelling

on a keleq. For seven hours they kept up an active fusilade, both

parties making good use of their guns.

The merchants of Mosul use these rafts for exporting their goods to

Baghdad and other places. After the harvest enormous keleqs may daily

be seen leaving Mosul, loaded heavily with wheat and corn. All goods

for the south are exported in this way. For these large commercial

rafts, about three to four hundred skins are used, while others contain

from fifty to two hundred, according to the size of raft and number of

passengers. A European travelling alone would need about one hundred

and fifty to two hundred skins to make a fairly comfortable raft.

Natives often use a single inflated skin for travelling down the

river, sometimes even going as far as Baghdad on one. This latter

feat a man has been known to accomplish in twenty-four hours. It is

by no means as easy as it looks, to balance yourself on a skin; when

bathing we have often tried, but found it very difficult. The Arabs

use these skins as ferry-boats when the river is unfordable. They

take off their garments and tie them round their head as a turban,

so that when they reach the opposite side their clothes are quite dry.

In a village near Mosul I have seen women crossing the river in this

way, many of them carrying a child on her back in addition to a large

bundle of clothes which she has been washing in the river. The Arabs,

both men, women, and children, are quite at home in the river--swimming

as easily as ducks, and playing all manner of games in the water; it is

quite interesting to watch them from a distance. The women do not take

off their long loose garment, but just hold the skirt of it in their

teeth if it impedes their swimming. Last summer we were staying for a

time at a castle quite near the river, about an hour's ride from Mosul;

while there we bathed almost every day, a small wood running to the

edge of the water acting as a convenient dressing-place. The owner of

the castle gave notice to all the villagers that the wood was "hareem"

each afternoon, so we were always quite private. I engaged the services

of an Arab woman to teach me to swim whenever my husband could not be

there. She could swim like a fish herself, but had no idea of teaching

any one else; however, before our holidays were over I had mastered

the art. She would make me put one hand on her shoulder and then

call out: "Now, kick"--that was the sum total of her instructions,

"kick"! The river is considered very dangerous for bathing unless

you know it well. Shortly before we were there last year, an Arab

woman had been drowned. She was a good swimmer, and was swimming

in deep water, when suddenly she called out that she was drowning,

and before any one could go to her rescue she sank, and was quickly

carried down the stream by the current; when the body was recovered

life was quite extinct. For a few days the women were too frightened

to bathe in that place, thinking that death was due to something in

the water; but when we arrived a fortnight later they had apparently

quite recovered from their fright, and were bathing as usual.

Another day we were watching the men playing in the water, when

suddenly a black object appeared in the distance floating down the

stream; it looked like the head of a baby. As it approached the place

where the men were bathing, one of our servants swam out to see what

it was, and found to his horror it was the body of a man. He brought

it to the bank, and every one rushed to view the corpse. Then came

the question as to who would bury it; no one was willing to do this,

although the body was that of an Arab, and all the onlookers were

also Arab villagers. We offered backsheesh to any one who would dig

the grave, but no one volunteered, and suggested pushing the body out

into the current again to be carried to Baghdad, as the easiest way

of settling the matter. Finally a mullah passed by, and seeing the

body, ordered some men to bury it at once. We were very thankful, as

we could not bear to think of the poor body floating down the stream,

or being left exposed on the banks of the river.

We watched some men dig a very shallow grave, and the body was laid

to rest, the mullah reciting some Moslem prayers ere it was covered

with earth and stones.

As one sees such scenes as this taking place, it is not pleasant to

think that this same river forms our sole water supply for drinking and

all domestic purposes! If we take a walk down the river to the place

where the water-carriers fetch the water, we shall have all the more

reason thoroughly to enjoy our water! There hundreds of women are to

be seen washing their clothes, men and boys enjoying a swim, horses,

mules, and donkeys revelling in the mud; while not at all unlikely a

few dead dogs or cats may be seen floating around! All congregate in

this favourite spot. This being the case, it is not surprising that

often our water resembles mud much more than water when brought to the

house. Needless to say, all our drinking-water is filtered and boiled

before using. The water is brought from the river in skins on the back

of donkeys or mules, at the rate of 3s. 4d. a hundred skins. It seems

so absurd to be paying in this way for water when, with a comparatively

speaking small outlay, it could easily be conveyed to each house by

means of pipes from the river running close by. This has been done

by an energetic Vali in Damascus, and the result is enviable.

The Tigris cannot be said to contain a great or varied supply of fish,

but there are two or three kinds to be found, which help to vary the

housekeeping monotony of everlasting mutton and chicken. A very large

fish called "bis" is the best kind, as the meat is tender and mild,

while the bones are few; the others seem to be all bones, and are

hardly worth eating, besides being absolutely flavourless.

Fishing is carried on from the bridge by the fish-sellers. A line is

generally used, baited with melon or pieces of flesh. Sometimes poison

is thrown into the river in order to kill the fish, which then float on

the top of the water and are easily caught. In the summer it is very

risky buying fish in the bazaar, as it so soon becomes stale; so if I

want to be quite sure of having fresh fish, I send a servant down to

the bridge to see a fish caught and then bring it home. As a matter of

fact, I fancy he does not at all like sitting in the sun waiting, so

often beguiles the time by sitting in the coffee-house situated on the

banks of the river; and then, having allowed an hour or two to elapse,

returns empty-handed, saying: "There are no fish in the river to-day."

Rivers without bridges are a great trial of patience when journeying;

it takes such a long time to transport everything, and the crossing

generally takes place at the end of a stage when every one is tired,

and--shall I confess it?--often cross too. The waiting in the

burning sun while the boats are fetched, the weary bargaining, and

all the usual trials of patience become exaggerated out of their

due proportions when you know that just across the water is the

resting-place for the night--so near and yet so far! And as you sit on

the wrong side of the river waiting, waiting, it is difficult to feel

restful and at peace with all men. I long often to be able to do as the

animals do, i.e. swim over. A small charge is made for the transport

of each animal, so the muleteer often prefers to swim over himself,

taking his animals with him. There is as a rule only one ferry-boat,

so that you have to take your turn; and as each passage takes about

an hour, a great deal of patience is often needed.

The ferry-boat is a large flat-bottomed, antediluvian-looking

construction, and you wonder how ever it can bear the weight of

all that is put upon it. When a carriage is to be transported the

horses are first unharnessed, then the vehicle is lifted bodily on

to the boat, with all its contents, the passengers and horses finding

standing-room as best they can.

When you get to the other side your troubles are not over, for on

starting to put up the tent you find one of the poles has been left

behind on the other side; so there is nothing to do but to sit still

and continue the waiting process. Or perhaps you think a cup of tea

would help while away the time, only to find that the charcoal has

not yet arrived! So there is only one thing to do, and that is to

wait till everything is safely landed; then you can begin to prepare

for the long-delayed rest.

CHAPTER IV

THE CHILDREN OF MOSUL

Spoiling process--Despair of the parents--The "god" of the

hareem--Death by burning--Festivities at birth of boy--Cradles

and cradle songs--School life--Feast in honour of a boy having

read the Koran through--"Only a girl"--Girl life--Girl victims

of Naseeb--Marriage.

"The household must weep for forty days on the birth of a girl."

Arabic Proverb.

"Is it all forgot? All schooldays' friendship,

Childhood's innocence?"

Shakespeare.

"Where children are not, heaven is not."

A. Swinburne.

The children of Mosul have on the whole a very good time. From their

earliest days they are allowed to do pretty much as they like, and

only when the process of spoiling is completed, and the child has

become a terror to all, do the parents realise that it is far easier

to spoil a child than to "unspoil" him, once the deed is done. This

method, or rather lack of method, of bringing up the children, is a

great cause of trouble and sorrow in after years both to the parents

and to the children themselves, but yet they never seem to profit by

their experiences, for they still continue to say that it is a great

"aib" or shame to deny a child anything he may want. Although this

spoiling process is carried on with both boys and girls in the earlier

years of their lives, it is brought to perfection in their treatment

of the boys.

I remember a pretty little child called Jamila (beautiful); she

was so fair and pretty that she was known by many as "the English

child." When she was about three years old she became very ill, and

the mother brought her to my husband, who prescribed for her, but said

that the chief part of the treatment lay in the diet. On no account

was solid food to be given for at least three or four days. The mother

looked in despair when she heard this, as she said, "Jamila will cry

if she cannot have her meat and bread and pillau!" A day or two later

I was calling at the house, and saw that Jamila was looking very ill,

and asked the mother what the child had been eating. "Oh," she said,

"poor little child, I had to give her meat and bread, for she tore her

hair and clothes in her anger, on my refusing to give them to her,

and so, how could I deny them to her?" And sure enough, while I was

there, Jamila began to cry for bread, and on her mother refusing, threw

herself on the ground in a paroxysm of anger, beating her head and

face with her clenched fist, till she was quite blue and black in the

face. The mother ran at once and brought bread and meat, and gave to

the child, who immediately recovered her equanimity of mind and temper.

Then again, I have seen a room full of people all in despair over

a child of perhaps two or three years old, who refuses to drink his

medicine ordered by the doctor. The father begins the performance by

solemnly taking the glass containing the medicine up to the child, and

saying to him, "Oh, my beloved, will you take this medicine?" "No,"

says the child, and pushes it away. The father looks round on the

audience for signs of wonder and astonishment at the marvellous

doings of the child. Then perhaps the uncle has a try, and meets

with like success; then the mother, the aunts, and a few friends

all beseech the child to take the medicine, saying, "For my sake,

for the sake of your father, your mother, &c., take this," but,

of course, all are unsuccessful, and they all shake their heads and

say, "I told you so, he will not take it," and it being a "khatiya"

(sin) to force a child to do anything against his will, the child,

of course, gains the victory in this as in everything else. If you

suggest pouring the medicine down the child's throat by force, the

parents and friends will put you down as being a monster of cruelty.

If there happens to be only one boy in the hareem, he becomes

almost like a little god to all the women folk. A small friend of

mine was in this position, and although a very jolly little boy,

was fast becoming unbearable in his actions towards his grandmother,

mother, and aunts. He was only about eight years old, but one day

he was calling on me with his aunt, whom I loved very much, when,

without the smallest provocation, he suddenly took up a stick and

gave his aunt two or three hard cuts across her shoulders with it,

and then ran laughing out of the room. I did not say anything to the

boy, but presently my husband came in to lunch, and I asked him to

give the boy a beating, and told him what he had done. So we went to

hunt for the boy, and found him hiding behind his grandmother, who

besought us not to touch the darling boy. My husband gave the boy a

very slight whipping, and told him if ever he did such a thing again,

he would give him something to remember! The boy was so astonished

at being chastised, that to this day he has been a changed boy,

and much more bearable in his home life.

Another instance of the way the boys are spoilt. A woman and her

daughter, a little girl of about eight years, were sitting in their

verandah one day behind a pile of cotton which had just been "fluffed"

by the man whose work it is to fluff cotton. The son of the woman,

a boy of seven, thought it would be great fun to set a light to this

cotton, which he promptly did by throwing a lighted match into the

midst of it, with the result that his mother and sister were burnt

to death. I called at the house some days after, and found the boy

who had done this deed quite a hero in the eyes of the women folk,

and far from being blamed and punished, on the contrary they were

fondling and caressing him more than ever. I told them I thought the

boy was so pleased with all the attention he was receiving, that very

likely he would do the same thing again if he had the opportunity.

Let me give you a short sketch of a child's life, in order that you

may see for yourself something of their everyday life.

As we are talking of Eastern children, we must begin with the boy,

as he is so much more important a personage than a mere girl.

A boy's birth is celebrated by great rejoicings and feastings, and if

the family is a well-to-do one, at least two sheep will be slain and

cooked and given to the poor. Our next-door neighbours were rejoicing

over the birth of a boy a short time ago, and they thought it necessary

to sacrifice three sheep, and for two days the poor were coming with

their little dishes and pots to carry away portions of the meat. I

went to see this ceremony, and it was very interesting. Apparently

no questions were asked, the only recommendations necessary being

poverty and need. Also hundreds of loaves of bread were given away at

this time. If we go to the hareem to admire and pay our homage to the

little king, we must be careful not to praise him too much, or, if

we do, we must qualify our praise by saying "Mash'allah," which will

counteract any evil influence. We shall find the baby boy swathed up

tightly in his swaddling clothes, his eyebrows and eyelids pencilled

with native cosmetics, and very likely a beauty spot on his forehead;

his little head will be covered with a little silk cap, over which a

handkerchief will be wrapped, and on the cap will be seen some coins

and blue beads, to avert the dreaded evil eye. We shall find him very

probably strapped tightly into a cradle made of brightly-painted wood;

the baby is laid on the top of the little mattress, which is level with

the sides of the cradle, and then strapped down. As he grows out of his

first cradle he will be given another and larger one, and much more

comfortable, in which he need not be strapped, as the sides are high

enough to prevent his falling out; a cord is attached to the cradle,

so that his mother can swing him gently while she sits and spins or

does anything she has to do. It is very quaint to listen to their

monotonous chant as they rock the cradle, and very often they sing

to the swing of the cradle, "Allah ho, Allah hi, Allah ho, Allah hi,"

"He is God, He is living, He is God, He is living."

The first time of shaving a boy's head is looked upon as a very

important day, and the barber must be careful to leave a little tuft

of hair on the top of the head, by which he can be pulled up into

heaven, otherwise he might get left behind.

When the boy is about five, he will probably be sent to school. He

is then dressed as a miniature man, in white knickerbockers, shirt,

coloured vest, and silk or cloth "zeboon," a loose garment reaching

to the ankles; on his head, of course, will be the inevitable red fez,

adorned with charms to bring him good luck and keep off evil. Arrived

at the school, our little friend will seat himself on the ground, and

his education will begin by learning the A b t (alef, bey, tey), the

A, B, C, of the Arabic language. After he has mastered the alphabet,

and can write a few words, then the Koran will be started, and the boy

will be kept hard at this, each day learning a short portion till a

chapter is known perfectly by heart. All the boys in the school may

be reciting different portions of the Koran at the same time, and

in a sing-song tone, so that, as you pass up and down the streets,

it is easy to recognise these seats of learning for the young. I

have often peeped into some of these schools, and watched the boys,

all seated on the ground, swaying themselves backwards and forwards,

repeating the Koran in a loud, monotonous voice. When a boy has been

through the Koran once, a great feast is made in his honour. He is

decked out in grand new garments, generally of silk and embroidery,

and men dancers are engaged for a day or more, according to the means

of the parents.

The son of a friend of mine in Mosul had just completed this part

of his education, and his mother sent word to know if the dancers

might come and dance before us in our compound. We thought this

might be rather trying, as they would probably have stayed all day,

so I sent a message thanking her for the honour, but saying I would

prefer to come to her house to see the "tamash" (sight), as I only

had a limited time to give to it. So at the time appointed I went,

accompanied by a woman servant and a man, as I thought there would

probably be a great commotion. On arriving at the door of the house,

it seemed hopeless even to think of getting in, as the courtyard

was full of men, dancing, shouting, yelling, whirling and slashing

naked swords and daggers. The court was a very small one, and my first

thought was to turn and fly, but the hostess was a very dear friend of

mine, and I did not like to disappoint her, so I sent the man-servant

in front to open a passage in the crowd and followed hard after him,

and felt very thankful when we reached a room safely. The women were

gathered there looking out of the windows at the fun. But this did

not seem to please the dancers, for they called repeatedly for the

"khatoun" (lady) to come and watch them, and some even followed me

into the room, thereby throwing the women into a state of panic and

fright. The men were so wildly excited that they hardly knew what they

were doing. Stripped to the waist, they flourished their swords and

yelled, then jumped high into the air, then crouched on the ground

and again leapt into the air, all the time pointing the daggers or

swords either at their own hearts or some one else's. To add to the

general excitement, other men were beating drums and playing on a

weird kind of stringed instrument. After receiving their "backsheesh"

they departed, for which I was not sorry. The boy in whose honour

all this is taking place is very happy and delighted, and thinks

now he is a man, and so, as he is leaving his childhood behind him,

we too will leave him and pass on to the much less important subject

(from an Eastern standpoint) of the childhood of a girl.

"Only a girl"--"Only a girl." These are the words which generally

follow the announcement of the birth of a girl. Poor little mite,

her entrance into the world is not a cause of great joy or rejoicing,

and from her earliest days, I think, this lies as a shadow upon her;

for to my mind there is a sadness and pathos about the little girls

quite different to the masterful looks and ways of the boys, the

lords of creation. As it is a part of the Moslem's creed to bow in

submission to the will of God, so the parents now, as always, say,

"It is God's will" ("Al Allah"), and bow their heads in submission

to this new yoke put upon them. Of course there are exceptions,

and some love their little daughters very much, but taken as a rule,

girls are not welcome--certainly not more than one. If the parents of

the girl baby are well-to-do, perhaps they may sacrifice one sheep,

but the feastings and almsgiving are done in a much quieter way and

with as little ostentation as possible; and if you visit the mother

it is not necessary to say very much about the new arrival as it is

"only a girl," and it is not well to make the poor mother feel too sad.

So the little girl starts her life, with not too much love and

attention. If she happens to be well and strong she will thrive apace

in spite of all, but if she is at all inclined to be weak or delicate,

the chances are that she will be neglected until it is too late for

human aid, and then perhaps, as a conscience salve, she will be taken

to the doctor by the mother or some other relative. How many of these

little victims have been brought when too late to my husband I should

not like to say. Directly the doctor sees a child suffering from some

terribly neglected disease he at once says, "A girl, of course! If

the child had been a boy you would have brought him long ago." And so,

alas, it is true of many cases. It is a convenient way of getting rid

of some of a too numerous family of girls, and then the mothers and

relations will piously clasp their hands and say, "It is the will of

God." The will of God, indeed! This so-called submission to the will of

God, or "kismet" or "naseeb," as the Turk and Arab call it, is often

responsible for a great deal of neglect by mothers of their little

girls. For instance, there was such a nice-looking young widow who

used to come and see me. She had two children, both girls, the elder

about five years of age, and the younger nearly three. This younger

child was a perfectly beautiful child--just like a lovely wax doll;

indeed, so much did she resemble a doll that she was often called

"l'abbi," which means a doll. Her sweet little face had a complexion

which any English mother might have been proud of, and her large

brown eyes were full of life and fun, while her dear little golden

curls falling over her forehead and forming a halo round her head

gave her an appearance of a little cherub. I found out very soon

that this child had the beginnings of a terrible disease in her,

which, if attended to at once, might be cured, but which neglected

would mean certain and sure death. I spoke to the mother about it,

and implored her to bring the child to the hospital for treatment;

but no, she would not listen; she simply shrugged her shoulders and

said, "Naseeb, al Allah. If the child is to die, she will die; if it

is written she is to live, she will live," and nothing I could say

would induce her either to bring the child or to let us have her to

take care of; and I heard afterwards from a neighbour that the mother

wanted the little girlie to die, so that she might be free to marry

again, as no man would take a wife who already was burdened with two

girls. Instances of this kind might be multiplied by the hundred,

showing how girl life is neglected, under the blasphemous idea that

it is "naseeb."

As a rule it is not considered at all necessary to send a Moslem

girl to school, but quite lately the Turkish authorities have opened

some schools for girls in Mosul, and have sent women teachers from

Constantinople, so this is a step in the right direction. I visited

one of these schools, and was very much struck by the happier looks

of the girls compared with the faces of the same girls in their own

homes. They are taught to read and write and, of course, to recite

the Koran. Also, we were shown some very pretty pieces of silk

embroidery which the girls had just finished, and really some were

quite artistic and pretty. These schools are free, the teachers being

paid by Government, and, therefore, girls of all classes sit side by

side. The pasha's daughter and the daughter of the pasha's slave may

both attend the same school and mix quite freely and happily together.

For the first seven or eight years of a girl's life she may go

unveiled and run about pretty freely with only a silk scarf on her

head, but when she reaches the age of nine or thereabout a great

change takes place in her life. She is prohibited from going out,

except occasionally with the mother or other relations, and then she

must be closely veiled. Poor children, I do so often pity them--they

so soon leave their childhood behind them and become women before they

come to girlhood. Of course the great aim and object of parents is

to marry the girls as soon as possible to the man who can offer the

highest price for her; but the subject of weddings is so extensive

that we must leave it for another chapter. Only I will say here that I

think the reason girls are looked upon more or less as a nuisance is

because they cost so much to get married; for if a father has three

or four girls to marry, he needs to be a rich man. From the time the

girl is four or five years old he begins loading her with gold and

jewellery, so that by the day she comes to be of a marriageable age

she shall have a good supply to offer to her would-be husband.

CHAPTER V

THE MOSLEM WOMEN OF MOSUL

Beauty behind the veil--Types of beauty--My dear old friend of 110

years of age--Aids to beauty described--Pretty children--Beauty

tainted with sin--Imprisonment of women--Peeps into some

hareems--Warm receptions--A visit from the ladies of a select

hareem--Love the magic key to open hearts.

"Women are worthless creatures, and soil men's reputations."

Arabic Proverb.

"As I told you always, her beauty and her brain go not together."

Shakespeare.

It has often been said that there is very little beauty to be seen

behind the veil in Turkish Arabia. I certainly do not agree with

this statement, for I have seen some very beautiful faces amongst the

Mohammedan women of Mosul. There is beauty, too, to suit all tastes:

the winsome blonde, with her pale blue eyes and fair hair; the striking

brunette, peeping from behind her veil with laughing brown eyes,

which at times are as full of pathos as those of a faithful collie

which has lost its master.

I think the chief attraction of Eastern women lies in their eyes. One

face comes to my mind as I write. It is not a pretty face in the

ordinary sense of the word, but the eyes are wonderful, revealing

a soul full of sadness, a longing for something not attainable: eyes

that might make you weep as you feel them fixed upon you in unspeakable

yearning for love. Another type of face is the bright, vivacious one,

seen chiefly amongst young unmarried women--marriage in the East

generally having the effect of taking all brightness out of a face or

a life. There is also many a sweet face to be seen in Mosul. Perhaps

these could not be called beautiful except for the sweetness. One

such I can see now as my memory takes me back a few months. A dear

face is pressed close to mine, and with pleading blue eyes and such

a sweet, expressive mouth which utters words such as these: "Khatoun,

I cannot go--I cannot leave you. Will you let me live always with you?"

If only you knew the history of this woman, you would wonder that

her face could bear such a sweet look, or, indeed, how she managed

to endure life at all.

Beauty of the East is all too fleeting as a rule, a woman of thirty

years of age being quite passee. Nevertheless, there are some very

fine-looking old ladies in Mosul. One dear friend of mine is proud of

the fact that she has reached the grand age of 110! Her face still

retains some of its former beauty. Her daughter is a young woman of

nearly ninety, her grand-daughter can boast of seventy years, while

as to her great-grandchildren, they are countless!