This old lady came one day to the dispensary for medicine, as she

wished to be "made strong" enough to take a journey consisting of six

hours' riding to a hot-water spring outside Mosul, a place to which

she had been in the habit of going regularly for the last 100 years

or so! She was also quite distressed because her skin was rough,

and asked the doctor to give her some medicine to make it smooth

again. Even at 110 she was capable of thinking of and longing for

a renewal of her lost beauty. Aids to beauty are much sought after

by the ladies of Mosul, as they do not at all approve of becoming

"old." It is quite a rare sight to see a white-haired woman. The

moment grey hairs commence to appear they have recourse to henna, a

dye much in request by Easterns of both sexes. Freckles are a cause

of much sorrow of heart to Mosul ladies. One girl, who was really

very pretty, was brought constantly to the dispensary by her mother,

who implored my husband to eradicate the freckles with which her

daughter's face was covered, as, if they were not removed, she might

never get a proposal of marriage. However, a man was forthcoming who

apparently did not object to freckles, for shortly before leaving

Mosul I received an invitation to this girl's wedding-feast.

There are some very pretty children in Mosul, some dark, others

fair, with blue eyes and curly hair. However, this latter style of

beauty is not as a rule admired. Mothers have a great horror lest

their children should have curly hair. If a child possesses it, the

women try by all means in their power to straighten out the curls,

sometimes even coming to ask for medicine for this purpose.

Very often, however, the children lose a great deal of their

beauty when five or six years old. Perhaps it is because their

souls at that age become tainted with knowledge of evil, and this

knowledge is reflected on their faces. It is heartrending to see

pretty little children listening open-mouthed to some horrible tale

of sin and wickedness told by a member of the hareem. It is true

there is beauty behind the veil, but, alas! it is beauty tainted

with the blackness of sin. How can lives be beautiful when the souls

within are dead?--as dead as sin and sorrow can make them. Boys and

girls grow up amidst surroundings which soon soil their souls; the

"innocency of childhood," so dear to the hearts of English parents,

is unknown in a Moslem hareem.

Many and many a time have I interrupted a conversation consisting

of things which should not be spoken of, by pointing out to the

women some boys or girls sitting near by, listening with evident

delight to their unclean talk. Sometimes they would desist, but as a

rule would only laugh, saying: "What does it matter? They know all

about it!" Oh! the pity and horror of it--young lives spoilt and

contaminated almost before their feet have started on the difficult

and perilous walk through life. Is it any wonder that these children

grow up with diseased minds and deadened souls? Then they in their

turn become the parents of another generation, to whom they teach

the same soul-destroying creeds.

There is no hope for the children of Mohammedan lands until the

mothers have learnt a little of the meaning of pure life and

conversation. There is no hope for the women while the men are

what they are. The whole system is one of degradation and vice. When

Mohammed, acting under what he declared to be a revelation from Allah,

introduced the use of the veil, he swept away for ever all hope of

happiness for Moslem women. By means of the veil he immured them for

ever in a living grave. "Imprisoned for life" is the verdict written

against each Moslem woman as she leaves childhood behind her. Before

the days of Mohammed the Arabs were in the habit of burying alive

yearly a certain number of new-born girls; surely the fate of these

innocents was better than that of the millions of women to-day who

are buried alive behind the veil. "Ensha' Allah" (God willing), in

the near future the same Power which raised British women to hold

the position they now do will also penetrate through the prison bars

of the hareems of Mohammedan lands and set free the prisoners. An

enlightened Mohammedan gentleman once said: "The only hope for our

women is Christianity." God grant that their "only hope" may not be

denied them.

How often I have said to these women, "Alhamd-'llillah (thank God),

I am not a Moslem woman!" and the heartfelt answer has always been,

"Yes, indeed, you may thank God; but it is naseeb" (fate). The longer

I live amongst Moslem women the more my heart yearns with love and

pity for them, and the more thankful I am that their lot is not mine.

Let us now peep into some of the many hareems of Mosul. There are some

into which I should blush with shame to take my readers, on account

of the conversations we might hear; but we will choose some where,

in all probability, we shall see and hear nothing objectionable.

Our first visit shall be to a near neighbour of ours. The house

is a large one, the owner holding a high social position in the

town. As we enter the outside gates we see a large reception-room,

in which the master of the house is sitting holding court. We must

not look that way, as we are in native costume; so, pulling our

veils a little closer, we hurry on till we reach the door of the

hareem. This is always kept locked; upon knocking, it is opened by

a native girl or woman, who immediately kisses our hands or dress,

then ushers us into the presence of the khatoun. In this case the

head lady of the hareem has been a widow for some years, and is still

wearing her black mourning dress. She rises from her place amongst the

cushions on the floor as we enter and salaams low, bidding us welcome

to her house, at the same time indicating our seats by her side. We

arrange ourselves as comfortably as possible, sitting cross-legged in

true Arab fashion. By-and-by the daughter-in-law comes in--a frail,

delicate-looking woman, and with her a little girl, her only child. She

is sad because she has no boy, and is afraid her husband will divorce

her on this account.

Since leaving Mosul I have heard that her fears on this point were

not groundless, for her husband has since divorced her and taken

another wife in her place. The usual coffee is handed round by one

of the many women servants, and our hostess is very much surprised

that we will not join her in smoking a cigarette. Sometimes there

are a dozen or so women living in the same hareem, wives of brothers,

and it is often difficult to know who is who. The relationships are

sometimes most perplexing. Even to this day there are houses which I

visit frequently, but have not yet mastered the intricate "connections"

of the various members of the hareem.

Here is another hareem, quite different from the last one we

visited. My special friends in this house are two young girls who

are not yet married. They are such dear, bright girls, and as I

enter throw their arms round my neck and bid me welcome in a most

demonstrative way. If I am expected I always find a meal ready,

and if my visit is unannounced, a woman is always despatched to

the nearest "sook" (market) to buy an impromptu meal. They are

poor people, and I always beg them not to do this, but they never

listen to my entreaties. The meal consists sometimes of "kabobs,"

i.e. meat minced and pressed round iron skewers and grilled over

a charcoal fire; this is placed on a plate and garnished with

sliced raw onions and bitter herbs. Another time a sheep had been

killed, and our meal consisted of the "interiors," dished in a

most tempting manner. Sometimes salads form the principal dish;

but whatever the meal consists of, it is always served with love,

and is consequently thoroughly appreciated. This house seems always

to be full of women, all more or less related. If I get mixed up,

as I sometimes do, in the relationship of those present, and show my

ignorance of their names, they are quite hurt, and exclaim: "What,

you have forgotten me?" "Was I not in the hospital for a week?" or,

"Did I not bring So-and-so to see you?" If they have seen me once,

they are quite surprised if I cannot remember all about them, and

often I have to resort to stratagem to find out their names without

exposing my forgetfulness. While we sit and talk the girls are all

busily engaged in crotcheting caps. These are sold in the sook at

about six-pence a dozen, cotton included. In certain "mahullahs"

(quarters) of the town you will see all the women doing this work;

in another part of the town they are all occupied with knitting socks,

in another cigarette-making is the fashion. Each mahullah seems to have

its own style of work for the women, to which it adheres more or less.

In one house where I visit, a basin of delicious "lebban" is always

set before me. We all sit on the floor round a diminutive table about

five inches high, and each one being provided with a wooden spoon dips

out the lebban from the central dish. This lebban makes a delicious

food in the hot weather. It is made something after the same manner

as "junket," only lebban is more tart and acid. Eaten with grated

cucumbers, it makes a very refreshing salad. Fortunately for me,

I can eat and, as a rule, thoroughly enjoy native food. In fact,

I often prefer it to our own, for almost all attempts at European

cookery by native cooks are decided failures. My husband, on the

other hand, cannot indulge in this respect, the excessive fat used

being too much for his digestive powers.

But to return to our ladies. Not only do I visit in the hareems of the

towns, but the hareems very often pay me a visit at our house. The

poorer class of women come very freely, and they know that they are

always welcome. We have a room specially set apart for women visitors,

so that they may feel quite safe from any men servants who might

happen to be about. The higher-class ladies do not come so frequently,

the idea being that the more strictly they keep to their own hareem,

the more select and important will they become in the eyes of the

people. There is one family in Mosul who boast that their hareem have

never visited any other house. So strictly have the ladies been kept

in seclusion, that they were not even allowed to go to the "hammam"

(bath) till quite lately. Now, however, they are allowed the luxury of

once a month walking a hundred yards or so to the nearest bath. After

becoming acquainted with the ladies of this hareem I was very anxious

to obtain permission for them to come and visit me. They did not at

all hold out any hope that their lords and masters would allow such

an unheard-of proceeding. One day, however, my husband told the head

of the house that I was very anxious for the ladies of his hareem

to come and see me. To the great surprise of all he acquiesced, only

stipulating that the visit should be kept as secret as possible. The

ladies were very excited, and for days beforehand were talking about

the proposed visit and making preparations for it. On the day fixed

the way had to be cleared of all menkind. The doctor was banished

from the house for the whole afternoon, the men servants were given

a holiday, and all doors through which a stray man might happen to

wander were carefully bolted and barred.

At the hour appointed a woman servant arrived to know if all was

ready. When she had satisfied herself that no men were visible, nor

could become so unexpectedly, she returned to fetch the ladies. They

arrived in all the glory of black silk chuddars, which Judy (our

woman servant) carefully removed and folded up. The two older ladies

were quite simply dressed in print or muslin, but the young wife

was decked out in one of her many bridal costumes, and looked very

charming. She was then only about sixteen years of age, but was the

mother of two pretty children, a girl and a boy. They were all so

delighted to be allowed out for the first time in their lives. We

began by eating cucumbers and water-melons, followed by tea, coffee,

and English biscuits and cakes. These latter they much appreciated,

asking permission to carry away some for other members of the hareem to

taste. After refreshments had been partaken of they were very anxious

to see all over the house. As we went from room to room it was so

funny to hear their remarks. The bedroom seemed to take their fancy

most of all, as they could not see why we needed a room specially

for sleeping in.

They were very charmed with our little harmonium, and listened with

great delight while I played and sang to them some of our old English

hymns translated into Arabic. One of the ladies trying to play could

not understand why it would not "speak" for her, and upon my moving

the pedals was overjoyed to find that she could "make music." Their

delight at everything was just like that of little children on finding

a new toy. Their visit lasted about three hours, and they went away

promising to come again soon. This hareem is a most exceptionally

happy one. There is only one wife in it, the two elder ladies being

sisters-in-law to the bride, and unmarried. They all seem to live

together in peace and happiness. Unfortunately, this is only the

exception, which always goes to prove the rule, that hareems are not

the abode of peace. How can there be peace when the heart is full

of jealousy and hatred? One such case comes to my mind. There are

two brothers living in one house, one of them being married. After

some years of married life had passed and they remained childless,

he took another wife, and the first one was thrown into misery and

despair. Shortly after this we were awakened one night by hearing

most fearful shrieks and yells coming from this house. The following

day we heard that the two wives had been quarrelling and fighting,

as usual, till at last the husband took the first wife and turned her

forcibly out of doors. Fortunately, her mother's house was near by,

to which she went, and where she remains to this day.

It has been said, and unfortunately too often truly said, that love

has no part in the life of a Moslem woman; and yet it is also true

that they are, as a rule, a most loving and lovable set of people. It

is because they have so little love and kindness in their own lives

that, when it does come to them, their hearts are ready to overflow

in response.

Perhaps the Arab women are slow to give their love and trust, but when

once given it is sure and lasting. Often these women have said to me,

"Why do you love us, Khatoun?" They cannot understand that any one

should care for them. Such an idea is outside the range of their

experience altogether. One of the first sentences I learnt in the

Arabic language was, "Ana ahubkum" (I love you all), and this is

one of the most useful and necessary phrases to be learnt. Love is

the magic key which opens a way to the hearts of the Moslem women,

and which brings forth much fruit in return. It is sad to think that

these women, who are endowed with such great possibilities of loving,

should be condemned to live their lives, aye, and die too, without one

spark of love to brighten and cheer them through the weary years of

their lives. Sad, too, that their favoured sisters of England should

be content that these things should remain so. Who is to tell them of

love if we do not? They know nothing of the God of Love, who looks

in pity and compassion on their stricken lives. They only know of a

God who is inexorably hard and unfeeling, who holds the destiny of

each life in His hand, and against whom it is no use repining, for

"What is written is written."

Mohammed says in the Koran, "The noblest of you in the sight of God

is he who most doth fear Him."

Truly has it been said that the God of the Mohammedans is an Oriental

despot.

CHAPTER VI

MOSLEM FAMILY LIFE

No home life--Women down-trodden--Evils of divorce--Naseeb--The

will of God--Truth and falsehood--Honesty prevalent--A thief

caught--Swearing and anti-swearing--Fighting, hair-tearing,

and biting--Hammams, the Ladies' Club.

"The heart of a woman is given to folly."

Arabic Proverb.

"May Allah never bless womankind."

Quotation from Moslem Author.

"The Very God! think, Abib, dost thou think?

So, the All-Great, were the All-Loving too--

So, through the Thunder comes a human voice

Saying, 'Oh, heart I made, a heart beats here!

Face, my hands fashioned, see it in myself!

Thou hast no power nor mayst conceive of mine,

But love I gave Thee, with Myself to love,

And Thou must love me, who have died for thee.'"

R. Browning.

There is no "home life," such as we understand the term, in Mosul. The

word "beit" (house) is the only one in the Arabic language used for

describing a home. It would indeed be mockery to call such by the

sacred name so dear to the hearts of English people.

In a book lately published in Cairo the author, a well-known and

clever Moslem writer, says: "Man is the absolute master and woman

the slave. She is the object of his sensual pleasures, a toy as it

were with which he plays whenever and however he pleases. Knowledge

is his, ignorance is hers. The firmament and the light are his,

darkness and the dungeon are hers. His is to command, hers is blindly

to obey. His is everything that is, and she is an insignificant part of

that everything." This being the sentiment of every Moslem man, is it

any wonder that there is no happiness or mutual regard in the family

life? The men look upon the women, and treat them, as little better

than brutes; then when they become so, turn and revile them. They

keep their heels firmly planted on women's necks and then dare them

to rise. A man may be as vile as he likes himself, but the moment he

suspects one of his hareem of misconduct there is nothing but death,

or mutilation which is worse than death, for the offender.

A woman once came to the hospital who always insisted on keeping

her face entirely covered with the exception of the eyes; I soon

found that the reason of this was because her nose and lips were

missing. These members had been cut off in a rage by an infuriated

son-in-law, who declared that this woman had intrigued with his wife

in allowing another man to enter the hareem in his absence. This is

a husband's ordinary method of wreaking revenge on any of his women

folk whom he suspects of being false to him. This, or death.

The facility with which a man is able to divorce his wife is a great

source of trouble to the women. They never feel secure in the hearts

of their husbands, knowing that at any moment he may tire of them

and send them adrift.

When a woman is divorced she returns as a rule to her mother's house;

but should she have no relation at hand to whom she can appeal for

protection, her condition is deplorably sad.

A man may divorce his wife in a fit of anger and receive her back the

next day if he so desire; this may occur twice, but if he pronounces

the fatal words "I divorce thee" three times the divorced wife may

not be taken back till she has been married to another man for a time

and he also has divorced her; then her former husband may marry her

again if he wishes. This is one of the good (?) laws of Mohammed the

Prophet, and needs no comment.

When a woman is divorced the husband can claim the children if he

desires; if not, the wife is allowed to retain them. Should she marry

again the poor children are often left to look after themselves as best

they can. As a rule the new husband does not wish to bear the expense

of the children belonging to his wife's former husband. If, however,

he should consent, and the two families are brought up together, the

result is generally not conducive to peace of mind. One of our servants

in Mosul had a little boy five years of age; having divorced the boy's

mother, he looked about for another wife, and finally selected one

who had already been divorced and was the mother of a boy four years

old. The two boys now live together, and are a fruitful source of

friction between husband and wife. A short time ago the mother came

to our compound early in the morning looking dishevelled and angry,

saying that her husband had turned her out of the house at midnight,

refusing to admit her again. On inquiring into the matter we found

that the root of the quarrel lay in the fact that the man was jealous

of his wife's treatment of her own boy, declaring that he had only

married her to look after his boy. He divorced her; but acting on

our suggestion forgave, and reinstated her in his hareem.

A short time ago a woman came to me in great distress with her tale of

sorrow. I had known her for some months, and loved her very much. She

was the mother of two fine boys and a girl. When the girl was about

eighteen months old the mother became very ill. The doctor attended

her for some days, but finally gave up all hope of her recovery. As

a last resource, however, some stringent means were used which,

with God's blessing, proved successful, and the woman began to

recover. So near death had she been, that the neighbours came to the

house inquiring what time the funeral would take place! The husband, a

"mullah" (priest), never came near her the whole time of her illness,

and the first news the poor woman heard on her recovery was that he

intended taking another wife, doubtless thinking that, after such a

severe illness, she would not be of much use to him for some long time.

As soon as she could walk she came to tell me her trouble, and to ask

me what I should advise her to do. I told her that, if I were in her

place, I should leave the man altogether. This, she said, she could

not do, as it would mean separation from her children. Finally, she

concluded that there was nothing else to do but to go back to her

husband and submit to his will. This she did, and I saw her there

before we left; but such a different face greeted me to the sweet

one of old. Misery, discontent, and anger were depicted there instead

of content and happiness. Up to the time of her illness she had been

in the habit of frequently coming to see me: now her husband forbade

her to do so any more. The week before we left, however, she turned

up again with a bad abscess on her leg, for which she gave continual

praise to God, saying repeatedly, "Alhamd'llillah. God sent me this

bad leg in order that I may come to you"--her husband not objecting

to her coming to the hospital to be treated, but only when she came

to the house without any apparent reason.

A Moslem woman has very little hope of gaining Paradise. Old

pictures by Mohammedan artists always represent hell as being full

of women. Their hope of gaining Paradise rests a great deal on the

will of their husbands. Some holy men say, "I don't want my wives

in heaven. I prefer those provided by God for all good Moslems from

amongst the angels." Yet, if you question the women about their hope

for the future life, they all fervently express the belief that,

eventually, they will have a place in Paradise afforded them.

Poor, blind, misguided Moslem women of Mosul and other Mohammedan

lands! How my heart aches for them! Will no one heed the cry of anguish

and despair which goes up from their midst? As we think of their lives

our cry can only be, "How long, O Lord, how long will these things be?"

Women are great believers in the doctrine of Naseeb or fatalism. To

everything that comes to them they bow their heads in submission and

say, "Naseeb" (fate).

This doctrine often leads to great neglect of children and invalids,

the women excusing themselves by saying, "Maktoob" (It is written). It

often rouses our indignation to hear this oft-quoted word misapplied

as an excuse for wrongdoing or selfish desires.

For instance, parents will enter into negotiations for the marriage

of their daughter with a man known to be an evil liver; then,

when the girl is suffering, maybe, for their sins, say piously,

"Naseeb--Min Allah" (from God). "Min Allah" indeed! "Min Shaitan"

(from Satan) would be more correct!

Then, again, it is somewhat annoying to be told it is "the will of God"

that your horse should develop a cough, because the groom neglected

to cover him when standing in the rain; or, when your best china

tea-set is smashed, you would rather not be told it is "Naseeb"!

Albeit this is an annoying doctrine to the European at times, yet it

certainly helps the Eastern woman to bear her troubles and trials,

and it is good for her to have this at command, for she has nothing

else to aid her. To sorrow, loss, bereavement, and all the ills that

human nature is subject to, the Moslem answers always "Naseeb," or,

"It is the will of God." Should their children die, or the locusts

destroy the crop, it is "Naseeb." Is the weather hot or cold, dry or

moist, the remark is always the same, "Naseeb." If the river water

is filthy and they choose to drink it, thus contracting typhoid or

one of the hundred other ills consequent on drinking such water,

they have only to assure themselves that it is "Naseeb," and there

remains nothing more to be said or done. It is easier to say "Naseeb"

than to take the trouble to filter or boil the water for drinking.

In a thousand ways this belief in fatalism is convenient to the lazy

or careless ones, a help to the over-burdened and weary, who know

no other succour or helper in time of need or sorrow, while it is,

in some cases, a blasphemous libel on God, blaming Him for what is

really a sin wilfully indulged in.

As in Persia, so in Mosul, truth plays little part in the characters

of some of the people. They have not yet learnt to value God's gift

as expressed by the poet Browning--

"God's gift was that man should conceive of Truth

And yearn to gain it."

It is strange how even the most enlightened find it difficult to speak

the truth always, and correspondingly easy to tell an untruth. A

boy was once found out in a fault (quite a trivial one), but, when

questioned, he absolutely denied all knowledge of it, until he was

confronted by one who had been an eye-witness of the whole scene. Then

only did he confess, adding, "I said with my lips I did not do it,

but in my heart I confessed." What can be said to people whose mind is

capable of evolving such ideas? We often had to complain of dishonesty

amongst the hospital women servants, especially of the cook for petty

thefts, such as eating the patients' food, thus causing them to go

on short commons, unless I was there to see that each one had his

or her proper quantity. One day I was crossing the compound before

superintending the distribution of the evening meal to the in-patients,

when, as I approached the kitchen, I distinctly saw the cook helping

herself most liberally to the food out of the pot. On remonstrating

with her, she indignantly denied that she had ever tasted a morsel,

until I made her open her mouth and reveal to the amused onlookers

proof positive of her lies. Even then she was not ashamed, but only

laughed at the idea of the "khatoun" finding her out.

A woman will bring a child to the dispensary and swear that it is her

child, all the time knowing that the real mother is waiting outside,

too ashamed to be seen coming to the poor people's dispensary,

but not wishing to pay the usual doctor's fee. Or some lady from a

high-class hareem will dress in her servant's clothes and come to

the dispensary, posing as a poor woman who cannot afford a piastre

(2d.) for her medicine!

You get so tired of always hearing lies that you begin to feel it is

no use to question people at all. I do not wish to imply that there is

no truth to be found in Mosul; but it certainly is a rare and, when

found, precious virtue. It is a sad fact, too, that the natives do

not trust or believe each other, knowing that, given the opportunity,

a brother will cheat a brother or a son his father. Every one is

suspicious of his neighbour. On the whole the people are honest,

at least with the exception of the many trifling pilferings always

to be expected amongst the servants.

Some of them are rather fond of "eating money" entrusted to their

care. We had two or three servants who were good at this. They would

come to me every day with their accounts, receive payment for same,

but instead of handing over the money to the shopkeeper would calmly

appropriate it for themselves, till one day the baker or butcher leaves

a message at the door politely asking to be paid for past favours. Then

the culprit is sent for, and acknowledges having "eaten the money."

Another servant once tried to steal some dolls from a box lately

received from England for distribution amongst the in-patients of

the hospital. He had helped me unpack the box and carry the contents

to the storeroom, pending the arrival of Christmas Day. A few days

after I was passing this room, and hearing a rustling inside looked

to see what it was, but seeing the door still locked thought I must

have imagined the noise. But just as I was passing on the rustling

became more distinct, and I went nearer to examine more closely the

door, and found that, while the lock was still intact, the door had

been lifted bodily off its hinges and then carefully replaced!

Calling my husband, we entered the room and found a poor frightened

man trying to hide himself under the pile of paper and sacking which

had been removed from the box. He was absolutely shaking with fear,

thinking that he would be bastinadoed (beaten on the feet with sticks)

or imprisoned. He declared at first that he had come for some string,

which he had noticed on a shelf, to mend my saddle; but finally

confessed that the dolls had been the object of his visit. About

six small ones were found in his pockets; he had wanted them for his

children. We told him that if he had only asked he should have had

one given him. I shall never forget his astonishment when my husband

told him to choose the one he liked best and take it to his little

girl. He wept for joy and gratitude.

Swearing is very largely indulged in by men and women alike; it seems

to come as naturally to them as swimming to a duck. Originally the

words "wallah," "yallah," "billah," were used as swear expressions;

but are now looked upon more as ejaculations equivalent to our "good

gracious!" "goodness!" &c.; the real swear words being "wallahi,"

"billahi," &c. Some of the women cannot keep the expression wallah

out of their conversation, though I try hard to persuade them to do

so. For instance, a visitor comes; you remark to her on the extreme

heat. "Wallah," comes the answer, "it is hot!" Or you inquire after

some member of her family. "Wallah, she is very ill," is the reply.

I was visiting one day in a Moslem house, and the old mother-in-law

said to me, "What has happened to X.?" mentioning her daughter-in-law;

"she never swears now!" I was indeed thankful for this unexpected

tribute to that woman's efforts. We started an anti-swearing society

amongst a few of the women; it was quite funny to see how they

endeavoured to keep back the old familiar words which had been on

their lips since childhood.

One little boy joined with the women, and he found it hardest of

all; but when we left he was still persevering. He learnt the Ten

Commandments by heart, so whenever I heard him use a swear word I

made him repeat the third commandment.

The women are terribly fond of couching their denials in the form

of oaths, as "May my hand be broken," "May I become blind," "May my

interior become dried up if I did such and such a thing!" It makes

me shiver sometimes to hear them swearing to a lie in this way;

and I often tell them that if God only took them at their word,

they would be stricken blind many times over.

It is not an unknown thing for women to resort occasionally to fighting

as a pastime, but I am thankful to say I have not seen much of it. A

woman came to the Dispensary once with a fearful-looking hand: the

thumb was about six times its normal size and had become gangrenous. My

husband said the only possible cure was amputation; to this the woman

would not consent. She said that a short time before she had been

fighting with another woman, who had bitten her thumb in her fury. I

asked this woman what she had done to her opponent. "Oh," she said,

"I only pulled out her hair!"

Another woman once brought me quite a handful of hair to show,

which she declared her husband had just pulled out of her head in his

anger; while he at the same time exhibited several ugly wounds on his

hand caused by his wife's teeth! The man vowed he would divorce her,

refusing to listen to any suggestions as to forgiveness, saying, "What

would my neighbours say of me if I kept for my wife a woman who would

do that?" pointing to the bites on his hand. However, in the end he

did consent to take her back, being on the whole an amicably disposed

man. Can we wonder that these things should happen when neither the

men nor the women have ever learnt to control their passions? We

have glanced at the lives of the Moslem women of Mosul. Can we say

that they lead an ennobling, beautiful life? Are the home influences

such as to foster a happy, peaceful spirit? On the contrary, we have

seen that a woman deserves our pity and sympathy for all the sorrow

she has to endure.

Have we not seen that at birth she is unwelcome, as a child uncared-for

and untaught, as a young woman imprisoned behind the veil, as a wife

unloved, as a mother unhonoured; and when her weary life draws to

a close she knows that she will go to her grave unmourned. Such in

brief outline is the life of a Moslem woman.

A woman's one place of recreation is the hammam. It is indeed a

kind of ladies' club; here she throws away for the time being all

her home worries and troubles, enjoying thoroughly her few hours of

liberty. As a rule the bath takes at least two hours, and often half

a day, if the woman has no special demands on her time. She generally

goes in the morning, taking with her a complete change of raiment,

a mat to sit upon in the cooling chamber, and plenty of towels,

also some food to be partaken of after the exertions of the bath are

over. I once went to one of these hammams, but the heat was so intense

that I could only stand it for a few minutes. I often wonder how ever

the women can exist in such great heat for so long; I suppose it is

because they are used to it. Many illnesses date from a visit to the

hammam; but still they would not give it up for any consideration,

thinking it quite impossible to take a bath in the house. Certainly

the Turkish bath is much cleaner than the Persian one. In the latter

a large tank is used, and as it costs a good deal to warm up, the

water is not changed very often. In the Turkish hammam each person

has a tap for herself, from which flows presumably clean water. As

a matter of fact sometimes this water has already been used, but

only in the cheaper hammams. The most expensive baths have river

water brought up for the purpose; in the others well water is used,

and as this is brackish and very hard it is impossible to use soap,

for it will not lather; therefore a special kind of earth is used,

which is said to be very good for washing the hair with.

When Judy, our woman servant, returns from the bath, she always comes

and gives me a kiss, this being their custom, and we exchange the

salutations usual upon any one returning from the hammam.

CHAPTER VII

CUSTOMS OF MOSUL

Wedding ceremonies--Great expense to parents--Method of

procedure--Funeral customs--Customs at birth--Some other customs.

"The bridegroom's doors are open wide,

And I am next of kin;

The guests are met, the feast is set;

May'st hear the merry din."

S. T. Coleridge.

We have seen that a wedding is a very expensive matter in Mosul,

especially to parents who possess three or four daughters; for

unless the necessary gold, jewellery, and clothing are forthcoming

as a dowry, the marriage will never take place. For this reason a

man with a number of daughters will begin saving for their marriage

portion and expenses while the girl is yet a baby, and the mothers

will often commence gathering together clothing even before the child

is betrothed, so that they may be better prepared for the expensive

event when it does take place.

Then, too, not only is there the outlay for the dowry and clothing,

but also for the feasting of some hundreds, it maybe, of guests during

the seven days following the marriage. A man of very fair means in

Mosul once told me that the marriage of his daughters cost him at

least L200 each, and as he had seven daughters the sum total required

was not small. If this man with a good income found it hard work to

produce the necessary cash, how much harder is it for those who have

no settled income, or whose earnings are small. For instance, a native

Christian whom we respected and liked very much had two daughters;

both were betrothed and ready to be married. He was earning about

L3 a month, and had a wife and six children to support--how could he

provide all the necessary gold and other ornaments for his girls? And

yet, if he did not, in all probability his daughters would never be

married. There was only one way out of the difficulty, and that was

to borrow at high interest, crippling himself for many years to come,

perhaps for the rest of his life. Instances might be multiplied, but I

think enough has been said to show that girls are expensive luxuries

in Mosul as regards their weddings! Now as to the "preparations"

for the great and eventful day.

When a man makes up his mind to be married, or his parents decide in

their minds that it is high time their son should take to himself a

wife, many are the consultations which take place, and great is the

importance of the women folk concerned. They are never so happy as

when arranging for a marriage, loving the mystery and secrecy of it;

for it would never do for a fond mother to offer the hand of her dear

son in marriage to the mother of a possible bride and be refused. The

shame and ignominy would be too great; so the mother and other female

relations of the would-be bridegroom have to go very carefully to work

in selecting the girl and in making any proposal for marriage. Before

the actual "asking" is done, the way has to be prepared by very careful

hints and indirect inquiries as to the girl's health, accomplishments,

and dowry. If all proves satisfactory, then a formal proposal is

made. The matter having gone so far, a refusal is very unusual, and,

if given, is considered a great insult. I heard of one young man who

threatened to murder all the relations of a girl for whom he had made

proposals of marriage upon her parents refusing to accept his offer.

I have often been asked by Moslem women to suggest some girl as

a suitable bride either for their brother or son. On mentioning

some girls whom I knew, their answers were something as follows:

"Oh, but she has a white patch on her eye," or "She is too poor," or

"She has a bad temper," or "She is not pretty." Their idea of beauty

is that of a white, pasty, fat face, without a vestige of colour,

except that which art applies! Of course, the man never sees the girl

till the day of betrothal, and in the case of Moslems not till the

actual marriage takes place. The old custom amongst the Christians of

marrying a girl against her will is still extant in some villages.

Sometimes it happens that a girl persists in her dislike to marry,

even till the priest has arrived to tie the knot: in this case the

father would bind the girl's arms and legs till the marriage ceremony

was completed, when she was released, it being useless then for further

resistance on her part. This is done even now in some villages near

Mosul when the girl proves obstinate. As a rule, though, they accept

their fate as "Naseeb," knowing it is little or no use to struggle

against custom. How often my heart aches for some poor child who is

bound to a man old enough to be her grandfather or great-grandfather

sometimes. Alas, too often old in sin as well as years!

When the day of the marriage approaches, invitations are sent out to

all friends and relations for the specified days of feasting. First

comes the day for taking the bride to the bath--this is considered a

great function; then follows a week of excitement, dancing, singing,

feasting, all forming part of the great event. All thoroughly enjoy

themselves, even those who have to work the hardest in preparing the

food. The guests are expected to remain from morning till sunset. Three

meals are provided each day, the morning one consisting of bread,

cream, butter, fruit, &c.; the midday meal is a substantial one of

meat, cooked in various ways, rice, chicken, and vegetables according

to the season. The evening meal is also a very heavy one, causing

the guests to depart perfectly satisfied both with their dinner

and themselves.

During the whole of the week the poor bride has to sit in the reception

room on a cushion specially prepared for brides, and takes no part in

the surrounding gaieties. Each day she appears in a fresh silk dress,

and is often covered with golden jewellery. She is not supposed

to speak till spoken to, and the guests do not take much notice of

her beyond the usual kiss of salutation. At meal times she is "fed"

by her relations, a bride being supposed to be too overcome to help

herself or eat without assistance.

After the days of feasting are over, the bride takes her place in

the house as "servant" to her mother-in-law. In a Moslem house the

youngest and latest bride always becomes the servant of all for the

first year of married life, or till another and younger one is brought

to the home. Much depends on the mother-in-law's character as to the

happiness or otherwise of the inmates of the hareem. If they wish,

they can make the lives of the young wives perfectly miserable,

or the reverse.

The same custom of feasting for a certain number of days takes

place too in connection with funerals. The guests who come to mourn

sit in solemn silence all day long; their mourning does not lessen

their appetite, however, for they thoroughly enjoy their "feast"

of sorrow. After a death, the "wailers" are brought in. I went once

to a Christian house of mourning to see these wailing women. It

was a ghastly sight. The professional wailers sat on the ground in

the centre of the relations and guests, and worked themselves and

others into such a frenzy that I thought some would have fainted from

exhaustion; slapping their knees, tearing their hair and clothes,

till they resembled maniacs more than women.

A short time ago a very sad and sudden death took place in Mosul in

a house very close to us. We were awakened one night, while sleeping

on the roof, by hearing the terrible wailing sounds coming from our

neighbour's house. At the same time a messenger arrived in great haste,

asking my husband to go at once to see the patient, as his relatives

were not sure if he was dead or only in a fit. He had been out during

the night to some Moslem religious function, and died quite suddenly

on his return.

The wailing went on in the hareem for seven days, and was terrible

to hear. The sound of the weird wailing of some hundred women is

perfectly indescribable, always ending up with a piercing shriek

which seems to rend the air and freeze one's blood.

Being friends and neighbours, I paid daily visits to the mourners

during that week, but did not sit amongst the guests, preferring to

spend the time with the sisters of the deceased in a quiet room above

the din and uproar of the courtyard. The wailing has such a hopeless

sound, as of a lost soul in anguish. One longed for them to know of

Jesus the Living One, and of the time when partings shall be no more.

After death has visited a family, the whole house in which the departed

one lived is not swept for three days: this is because they believe

that the angel of death is still hovering near, and they fear lest,

while they are sweeping, others of the household may be swept from

the house by the angel. So the house becomes very dirty, the carpets

covered with cigarette ash and ends, but nothing can be touched till

the third day is safely passed.

Amongst the Christians it is also the custom after the death of a

relative, not to go to the hammam (bath) for six months, and for

the men to go unshaven for at least six weeks. The women are very

particular about not going to the hammam while mourning, as I found

to my sorrow. Our woman servant Judy lost her father just before she

entered our service, and she allowed a whole year to elapse before she

could be prevailed upon to go to the bath. They are very particular,

too, about wearing "deep" clothing--that is, dresses of some dark

colour, not necessarily black.

I am sure that the custom of burying a few hours after death is often

the cause of many people being buried alive. I have often been regaled

by an old woman with horrible stories of how some friends of hers

have just escaped being buried alive. For those who providentially

escape being entombed alive one is thankful; but what of the many who

most certainly are condemned to this awful fate. It is too terrible

to contemplate. In a land where no medical certificates are required,

and where the body is carried to the cemetery almost before it is cold,

how can it be otherwise?

But to proceed to other and more pleasing customs--let us pass

from death to life. When a child is born in Mosul, whether Moslem

or Christian, the first idea of the parents is to protect the child

from the baneful influence of the Evil Eye. The usual custom is to

thread a gall, and suspend it round the neck of the infant. Moslems

enclose a portion of the Koran in a little bag, and fasten that round

the arm of the child or sew it on to the cap. The custom of wearing

charms to avert the Evil Eye is very prevalent, and deeply rooted in

the minds of the Mosul people.

The kissing of hands is a very pretty custom. Children are all taught

to do this even before they can speak or walk. Servants are always very

anxious to kiss your hands after they have done something especially

annoying or irritating. They make a grab for your hand, and kiss it

before you realise what they are doing. In this way they secure your

forgiveness before the fault is confessed. I am getting more wary now,

and prefer to hear first what they have done before letting them kiss

my hand. It is also a sign of gratitude. Upon receiving any backsheesh

or present, the recipient is always ready to kiss your hand. Sometimes,

when riding through the city, I have had my hand grasped and kissed

by some passer-by who has been an in-patient in the hospital, and

wished to show his gratitude in this way. It requires a great deal

of gratitude or love for a man to kiss a woman's hand, so, when by

chance it does occur, I feel very much honoured indeed.

There is one custom which is often the cause of a great deal of

heartburning, even as it was in the days of Haman and Mordecai. It is

usual for a host or hostess to rise from their seat upon the arrival

of each guest--that is, if they desire to do honour to that person. As

a rule this custom is most carefully adhered to, but it lends itself

admirably to any one wishing to be rude to his guest or to shame him

before his friends. Fortunately, this is not often the case, but when

it does happen one feels very uncomfortable. There is one dear old lady

in Mosul, who thinks it beneath her dignity to rise to a Feringhi. But,

perhaps, it is excusable for her as she is a Hadji--that is, one who

has made the pilgrimage to Mecca, and, consequently, is treated as

an exalted being by all her friends and relations.

A rather quaint and pleasing custom in Mosul is that of sending trays

containing a dinner all ready cooked and dished to new-comers, or to

those returning after a long period of absence. We did not know of

this custom when first we went to Mosul, so were very surprised at

sunset on our second day after arrival to see two or three men coming

into the compound carrying huge trays on their heads. They explained

that their master, a Moslem merchant, had sent this meal, with many

salaams and good wishes. It was a dinner large enough for twenty

people, so we gathered together all we could find on the premises,

assistants, catechist, and others, who had been kindly helping us

to settle down. Spreading some Persian carpets in the courtyard,

we sat down and thoroughly enjoyed our first Arab meal in Mosul.

When any one is leaving the place or starting on a journey,

it is customary for the people to send in large trays containing

sweetmeats, cakes, and other eatables suitable for taking with you on

the road. When we were leaving Mosul, we received quite a large number

of these trays--so many, indeed, that at the end of our fourteen days

of desert we still had a good many of their contents remaining. Some

of these were made of almonds pounded and mixed with sugar; others

were made from puff pastry sandwiched with honey: these latter were

especially nice.

Distributing food to the poor as a mark of gratitude and thankfulness

is another of Mosul's good customs. After recovering from a dangerous

illness, it is usual to make and distribute a large quantity of bread,

baked in a special way, and flavoured with caraway seeds.

The birth of a son and heir is also celebrated by a generous and

lavish distribution of meat and bread. When starting on a journey,

too, it is usual to give away to the poor either money or food. On

every occasion of life which calls for gratitude to God, this custom

of presenting offerings to the poor is carried out. One dear woman,

a friend of mine, went even further than this. It was thought at

one time that we should be leaving Mosul for good, the Mission

being withdrawn. Providentially, this was over-ruled, and when the

news arrived from England that the Mission was to be kept on, great

were the rejoicings amongst the people. The woman mentioned above

immediately desired to show her thankfulness to God in a very special

way, so spent one whole day in making a large supply of small loaves

of bread, not to distribute to the poor, but to feed the hungry,

starving dogs of the streets. This by a Moslem woman was, indeed,

a work of love, dogs being looked upon as unclean beasts. Surely she

"that loveth much shall be forgiven much."

Coffee-making and drinking is associated very much with life in

Mosul. It is the custom there to give every one who comes to the house

a cup of Arab coffee. This meant sometimes for us giving at least

200 cups in a day. Not only those who come as social visitors receive

the coffee, but also all who come to the house on whatever pretext,

whether for meetings, classes, or what not. At feast times one servant

is always told off to do nothing else but prepare the coffee for the

guests. On each of the great feasts, such as Christmas and Easter, it

is the custom for every one to call, Moslems and Christians alike. At

Christmas the feast lasts for three days, and at Easter a week,

the whole of which time coffee must be ready to be handed at once to

every caller; also a tray of sweets, consisting of Turkish delight,

almond sugar, and other Mosul-made confections.

When a house is "mourning," bitter coffee is given to all callers

for six months, and on the first day of each feast for a whole year.

I do not think I have ever visited a Moslem house, however poor,

without receiving either a cup of coffee or some sweets. I often

beg them not to make preparations for me, but they always insist,

as their hospitable instincts are very strong. Indeed, more often

than not, they set before me not only coffee or sweets, but meat,

fruit, and lebban (sour milk).

A true Arab of the desert takes about an hour to make a cup of

coffee. First of all the coffee has to be roasted, then ground to

powder, and, lastly, boiled. The Arabs never sweeten their coffee,

sugar not being a commodity of the desert.

I once heard the recipe for making Arab or Turkish coffee. Perhaps

some readers may like to try their hand at making it.

First roast the coffee to a rich brown, neither too light nor too

dark, then grind it to a soft powder. Now comes the art of making

good coffee. Half-fill the pot with cold water; bring it to boiling

point. Throw in a handful of powdered coffee; allow it to boil; shake

down and bring it to the boil again. Repeat this process three times,

and the coffee is ready. Specially note: Never wash the pot! Needless

to say, this last injunction I do not carry out, but the servants quite

believe in that part of the recipe. It is only with great difficulty

I can persuade them to wash out the coffee-pot occasionally.

In summer, this reluctance on their part often leads to serious

complications. The kitchen, as may be supposed, is not a very cool

place during the hot season, consequently it suffers continually

from a plague of flies. Dead flies are often served up in puddings

and other dishes, to act presumably as an appetiser! Then eating

requires a great effort. The coffee-pot seems to serve as a trap for

many of these flies, attracted no doubt by the sugar, and there they

find a coffee grave. Suddenly a visitor is announced, and the message

is conveyed to the kitchen to "Send coffee at once." The cook seizes

the pot, never looking to see how many victims are struggling in the

dregs at the bottom, adds a little freshly-ground coffee, boils it

up, and sends it in to the visitor served in dainty little cups. The

visitor takes one sip, and...! I will draw a veil over the sequel. A

mouthful of dead flies is not a very palatable drink. My feelings

may be better imagined than described.

Sometimes a guest does not approve of the way the coffee is made

(even when minus flies); if so, she is not shy, and does not hesitate

to hand it back with a grimace, saying to your servant: "What horrid

coffee! why do you not make better?" and often demands another cup

properly made.

A visit to the bread-makers may not be out of place here. It is

the custom amongst some of the people to bake bread once a month,

sufficient to last that length of time. Baking-day is a day to

be dreaded. The process begins soon after midnight, when the woman

arrives to prepare the flour and "set" the dough for rising. The whole

of that day every woman on the premises is pressed into service--one

to make the dough into little cakes, another gives it a preliminary

roll, then hands it to her neighbour, who uses a smaller roller, and

finally hands it on to some one else to finish it off. When completed,

the bread is about as thin as note-paper and as large round as a

child's wooden hoop. The bread is now ready to be baked. The fuel

used for heating the oven is chopped straw and goats' dung, which

is burnt till the required heat is obtained; then these large thin

pieces of bread are plastered to the sides of the oven, and removed

as they are browned to an exact nicety. This bread is very nice when

fresh and crisp; when stale, it is generally soaked in water before

being brought to the table.

We do not make our bread in this way. I tried it once for the hospital

in-patients, but found it took far too much time. The daily baking

is much more suitable when from thirty to forty people have to be

fed daily.

CHAPTER VIII

DREAMS AND VISIONS

Ezekiel's vision by the river Chebar--Our vision by the river

Khabour--Rivers identical--"A wheel within a wheel"--Babylonish

emblem of divinity--Origin of the cherubim--Dream of a woman

suffering from cataract--Effect of dream on her character--Watch

and chain recovered by means of a "faked" dream--Illustration

of the doctrine of Kismet or Naseeb--"Ghosts" in our

compound--Atmosphere of ghosts bad for fowls.

"O dreamer, dream thy dream, and dream it true.

Sir Lewis Morris.

"Did not Heaven speak to men in dreams of old?"

Lord Tennyson.

"... The vision of my soul

Has looked upon its Sun and turns no more

To any lower light."

Sir Lewis Morris.

Dreams and visions have a great influence on the Eastern mind. They

believe most firmly that God often speaks by means of these agencies,

using them as a warning of impending danger, or as a voice of

instruction.

Ezekiel was no exception to this rule, for we read in the words of

his prophecy, "That the heavens were opened, and I saw visions of

God." This vision was given to him as he stood by the river Chebar

in the land of the Chaldeans. The river Chebar is none other than the

Khabour, over which we have passed more than once in our "journeyings

oft." When on our way back to England we crossed this river, and

as we sat near its banks, even as Ezekiel did of old, we too were

vouchsafed a "vision of God."

We had travelled through a weary stretch of waterless desert that

day, and were rejoicing in the fact that our camping-ground for the

night was by the banks of a river--the Chebar. Only those who have

journeyed for days through a parched-up desert land can tell the joy

with which a river is sighted. We experienced something of that joy

on the evening when we saw water for the first time for two or three

days. We pitched our camp as close to the river as possible, and,

sitting at our tent door, prepared to enjoy to the full the beauties

before us. Looking up I saw in front of me a glorious sight. I quickly

called my husband, and together we stood and watched this wonderful

vision. The sun was sinking as a ball of fire behind the river, when

suddenly from its centre there arose beautiful prismatic lights. These

gradually resolved themselves into the form of a huge wheel, each

spoke of the wheel being of a different colour, merging gradually

and almost imperceptibly into the next, as in the rainbow. Within

this "wheel" was another and smaller one, also composed of the same

prismatic hues. The outer circle of each wheel was formed by a band of

bright opaque light. On the top of these wheels was a visionary form

resembling the beginning of another wheel, but it was too indistinct

for me to say what definite shape it possessed. At either side of

these wheels was a large wing, as it were overshadowing the wheels;

these were also of a bright white. The whole formed a most wonderful

and never to be forgotten sight, and we felt indeed that this was a

vision of God.

While in Mosul my husband had received a letter from a gentleman in

England, asking him to keep a look-out for any such phenomenon as

this. On reaching home it was interesting to find on good authority

that the sight we had seen on the banks of the Khabour was one of

historical interest. The form of the wheels is almost identical with

the emblem which the Babylonians adopted to represent Divinity. On

the same authority I learnt, too, that in all probability a vision

similar to this was the origin of the cherubims. It is believed by

an expert on the subject that the whole of the "vision" is caused by

atmospheric influences, the sun acting on the particles of frost in

the air, thus forming the prismatic colours. Be this as it may, the

result was truly marvellous, and we were thankful that we had been

privileged to see "the heavens open," revealing this vision of God.

The whole spectacle could not have lasted more than five minutes,

but the sky retained its blaze of colour for about a quarter of an

hour after; then darkness covered the heavens.

The natives of Mosul are great believers in dreams, and accept

them as good or bad omens. A short time ago a Moslem woman came

to the Dispensary suffering from double cataract. She had been

quite blind for many years, and was very anxious for an operation,

saying if only she could have enough sight to sweep the compound

she would be satisfied, as then she could earn her livelihood. The

doctor, after examining her eyes, told the woman that he could not

promise her a good result from the operation, as her eyes were not

healthy. However, as she was absolutely blind, it was worth while

to try, and perhaps she might see sufficiently afterwards to find

her way about. Accordingly she was admitted to the Hospital to

await her time for operation. She was a very affectionate woman,

and seemed to be gifted with great powers of intuition. When I went

to the door of the ward, even before I spoke, she always called out,

"There's my khatoun!" Sometimes I crept in quietly just to see if she

would know I was present; she almost invariably did, and sitting up in

bed would listen intently, and then say to one of the other patients,

"Is not the khatoun here?" Then when she felt my hand, she would grasp

it and say, "I knew it, I knew it; I felt here" (pointing to her heart)

"that my khatoun was in the room!" She was such an excitable woman

that my husband feared that she would do something foolish either at

the time of the operation or after. He warned her that if she did not

keep quiet she might lose her eye altogether; but as the fateful day

approached she became more and more nervous. One morning, however,

she appeared quite calm, and hastened to tell us the reason of her

peace of mind. During the night she had seen a vision which had

quieted all her fears and made her trustful and believing.

In her dream she seemed to be walking in the desert, where she met

a mullah, who immediately began to revile and curse her. While he

was thus engaged the woman saw a form coming towards her which she

knew to be that of our Lord (Jesus the Living One, as He is called

in Arabic). He began to speak gently to the woman, asking her why

she was weeping; she replied by telling our Lord that the mullah

had been cursing her. In her dream she then saw (although blind)

that our Lord turned to the mullah and rebuked him for cursing the

woman. Then turning to the wondering woman, He said, "Do not weep,

my daughter, for the English doctor is going to give you sight in

a few days," and then He left her. She awoke firmly convinced that

this was a special revelation from God through Jesus our Lord to

assure her that her eyesight was to be restored. From that time she

was perfectly calm and quiet, and remained so the whole time she was

in the hospital. The day before the operation she was again warned

that she might not see any better after; but she smiled and said,

"To-morrow I shall see!" Her faith was rewarded, as the operation

was successful, and after two or three weeks she went out with very

good vision in one eye, and she is waiting for our return to have

the other operated upon.

My husband was once travelling "chappa" (post) in Persia from Yezd to

Kerman, when one evening he found to his great sorrow that he had lost

his gold watch and chain. Both were very valuable to him on account

of their associations, so he was very sad at the thought of losing

them. The same night he met another Englishman who was returning to

Yezd. He told him of his loss, and asked him to make inquiries along

the road, offering a reward to any one who would bring back his watch

and chain. His friend promised to do all he could, and, calling his

servant, explained to him about the loss, and told him to keep a sharp

look-out for any news of the lost goods. This servant was a very smart

man. The next morning they met a camel caravan on the road to Kerman,

and the servant went up to the driver and said to him--

"Oh, my noble brother, may your kindness never grow less; my sleep

has been troubled last night by dreams of you."

"Estakfarullah!" (God forbid), says the camel-driver. "Why was my

lord's sleep disturbed by dreams of me, who am not worthy?"

"Yes; I saw in my dream that you stooped and picked up something."

"Then your dream was wrong," hastily interposed the camel-driver,

"for I have picked up nothing."

"And lo! in my dream," continued the wily servant, "I saw that the

thing which you picked up was worthless, only a cheap thing which will

bring you no gain." The camel-driver here looking sad, the servant

continued: "But the owner of that worthless thing is very anxious to

find it, as although of no value in money, yet he cherishes it as a

thing he loves."

"But I told you," repeats the camel-driver, "that I never picked

up anything."

"Then in my dream," continues the servant, carefully ignoring the

reiterated denial of the camel-driver, "I saw you glance at this

useless object in your hand and then place it inside your aba" (cloak).

"No, no," cries the driver, "I never picked it up."

"So if you will let me show you where it is, I can relieve you of

this worthless object."

After a little more parleying of this sort, the camel-driver

produces my husband's watch and chain, and receives in return a

small backsheesh. The servant, highly delighted with himself and his

sagacity, smiled as he pockets in imagination the promised reward of

five tomans (L1). The camel-driver confessed afterwards that he was

so taken aback at the idea of his deeds being revealed in a dream to

this man that he would not have kept the watch at any cost.

Needless to say the "dream" was only a faked one, manufactured to

work on the superstitious mind of the simple camel-driver.

In Mosul the chief of the Seyyids once told the doctor a story relating

to a remarkable dream. It was as follows. Two men once called on a

mullah to question him regarding a matter which had been troubling

them. The cause of their dispute was this. On going to their work

each day these men passed a ladder leaning against a wall. One of

the two always avoided going under lest it should fall and kill him;

while the other said, "No, I will not run from danger, for whatever

Allah has decreed must be. If it is written that I am to be killed

by the ladder, I shall be." So the two friends, after having spent

much time in arguing this knotty question, decided to lay the matter

before a mullah and leave the decision to him. The mullah listened

to them both, but told them that such a serious question needed

much thought. He appointed a day for them to return and hear his

verdict. After their departure the mullah fell into a sleep, and in

his sleep he dreamed. In the dream he beheld a beautiful boy, the

son of a king whom his soul loved exceedingly; then later he met a

stranger, who told him that he (the mullah) was to cause the death

of the boy he loved so much. The mullah, filled with indignation,

repudiated the idea, saying that he loved the boy too much to do

him any harm. "Nevertheless," said the stranger, "it must be, for

Allah has decreed that the boy is to meet his death through you, and

what is written is written." The old mullah returned to his house

troubled and sad at heart, but determined that he would do nothing

that could in any way bring disaster to the boy. Still dreaming,

the mullah received a summons to visit the young prince. Remembering

the words of the stranger, he took with him nothing that could in any

way injure the boy, contenting himself by taking with him one gift

only--an apple. The boy received the mullah in his beautiful island

home, and the two enjoyed some blissful hours of converse together.

Finally, ere saying farewell, the old man with extended hands presented

the apple to the boy, who gladly accepted it, and proposed eating it at

once. The mullah, taking a penknife from his inner pocket, peeled the

apple, and returned it on the point of the knife to the young prince,

who, boylike, grasped it eagerly. In taking the apple the point of

the knife pricked the finger of the lad, with the result that blood

poisoning set in, and in a short time the beautiful boy lay dead. The

mullah in his sorrow wept aloud, and as he wept he awoke. With humble

heart and head bowed in submission, he gave glory to Allah.

On the day appointed the two men returned to hear the verdict of the

wise mullah. He received them kindly, but sorrowfully, assuring them

that it made not the slightest difference whether they walked under

the ladder or not.

"For," said the old man, "if it is written that you are to be killed

by a ladder falling upon you, it must be so, you cannot escape. What

Allah has written must be fulfilled. His designs cannot be frustrated."

This doctrine, taught to the old mullah by means of his dream, is

very prominent in the minds of all Moslems to-day.

When in Persia we had an Indian servant who was a Mohammedan. He told

us that three times on successive nights our Lord had appeared to

him in a dream, in the form of an old man with a long white beard. So

struck was he with the persistency of the dream, that he went to an

English clergyman, asking to be taught the Christian religion.

The women in Mosul have often told me of wonderful things which they

declared were going to happen to me, as had been revealed to them in

dreams. Even now I receive letters from some of these women in which

they say, "We see you every night in our dreams."

The first women in-patients in our so-called hospital in Mosul had to

be content with a kind of outhouse for their ward. The only place we

could find for them which would be hareem was a large room which we

used as a wood-house. This my husband had whitewashed and thoroughly

cleansed and disinfected. The first unfortunate woman to be put in

this ward (?) was a very quiet, gentle Moslem woman, who came for an

operation. Her mother came with her to look after her, and these two

were alone in their none too comfortable quarters.

Two or three days after the operation, these women declared that in

the night a huge form of dragon-like appearance rose from the ground

at their side!

Some weeks later this ward was occupied by a little Jewish girl who

had been terribly burnt, her mother and grandmother looking after

her. There were also two or three other women in the ward. One morning

very early, word was brought to us that all the inmates of that room

had been terribly frightened in the night. On going out to see what

had happened, we found them all lying in the passage, having carried

their bedding out of the room. They were looking very unhappy and

frightened, and requested to be allowed to leave the hospital at once,

saying they would not pass another night in that awful place. Then

they all began to recount their experiences of the night at the same

time, so it was with great difficulty we could find out what really

had happened. It seems that soon after midnight they were talking

to one another, when suddenly they saw two soldiers sitting on the

edge of their bedsteads. Terribly alarmed, they asked the men however

they came to be there--did they not know it was "hareem"? At first the

soldiers remained silent, but afterwards told the women that they had

come from a village about twelve miles off. That they had been told

in a dream to come to the beit hakeem Engelisi (house of the English

doctor). In obedience to this command they had come. Then, as suddenly

as they had arrived, they disappeared. The women, of course, were all

fearfully alarmed, some believing that they were real soldiers, others

that they were genii in the form of soldiers. They immediately left

the room, carrying their bedding with them, and spent the rest of the

night in fear and trembling. The next morning we made a very careful

examination of the roof, to see if by any possible means soldiers could

have entered our compound. We found that next door was the house of

the head of the soldiers, and it was possible that some of his guard

might have found their way over the walls and down to our house.

Nothing, however, was ever proved; but no one could ever be induced

to use that room again, the women declaring that it was haunted by

evil spirits. Finally, we made it into a hen-house; but the fowls

and turkeys all sickened and died, so there evidently was something

very wrong with the atmosphere of that room! Our first attempt at a

women's ward was certainly a failure, but "it is an ill wind that

blows nobody any good," and so good came out of this evil. As the

women would not use the haunted (?) room, other accommodation had to

be found, so we gave up our house for them, while we moved into the

one next door--the room which was neither good for human beings nor

for feathered fowls being now used as a wood-house.

Once when travelling in the desert, a spot was pointed out to us as

being the abode of Jinns and Genii. This spot is much abhorred by

the muleteers, as they believe that any one camping on that ground

is liable to be overtaken by a terrible death. The enchanted ground

is encircled by some landmarks, and it is said that any one going to

sleep within that magic circle will at once be visited by the Jinns

inhabiting the spot, who will immediately come and suck his blood

till he is dead.

CHAPTER IX

MANNERS AND SUPERSTITIONS IN MOSUL

Characteristics of inhabitants of Mosul--Social habits--Love of

drink--An effectual cure--Gambling--Tel Kaif: a story of Uncle

Goro--The Angel of Death and other titles--Difficulties over name

and age--Some superstitions--Effect of scent on women--Birds

of good omen--Thieves--Sheep-killing--Sheikh Matti--An angel's

visit--Medical superstitions--Cure for hydrophobia.

"Nothing has more effect upon the mob than superstition."

Quintus Curtius.

"To be superstitious is a crime."

Anon.

"Sickness and sorrow come and go, but a superstitious soul hath

no rest."

R. Burton.

The natives of Mosul are, as a rule, a very simple-hearted

folk. They are easily amused, easily taken in, and as easily roused

to passion. They are, on the whole, good-tempered and patient, and,

considering the absolute lack of self-control in their method of

bringing up, they give way far less to their passions than might

be expected.

They dearly love social habits, and spend much time in company, telling

and listening to stories, smoking, and drinking coffee. Unfortunately,

they do not confine their drink to coffee, and these social habits

often lead to a great deal of drinking. Arak is the favourite

refreshment at these times, and is indulged in by both Christian and

Moslem alike. It is a pure spirit, and is made by the Christians

and Jews of Mosul, and sold by them to the Moslems. No ceremony

is complete without the arak bottle. At weddings, funerals, dinner

parties, at each and every season of life, it is thought necessary to

provide this fire-water. I am sorry to say that the women also drink,

but not to such an extent as the men.

It is, of course, considered a great sin for a Moslem to drink either

wine or spirit, as both have been forbidden in the Koran: but their

love for the arak is stronger in many cases than their love of the

Koran. A Mosul Moslem woman told me a short time ago that she did

not think there was one Moslem man in Mosul who did not drink either

wine or arak. I hope this is an exaggeration, but the tendency to be

less ashamed of the drinking habit and to indulge in it more freely

is growing more and more. It is sad to think that the Christians

of the city are the manufacturers and vendors of spirit and wines,

and that they are responsible for introducing them into Mosul.

A story is told of a Sultan of Turkey who, desirous of putting a

stop to the ever-increasing drink traffic, made a law by which every

Moslem found the worse for drink should be cast into prison. The first

morning after the new law had come into action, a Moslem was found

drunk lying in the street, incapable of walking to his home. He was

immediately taken to prison, and allowed to sleep off the effects of

the drink. When he awoke, great was his surprise to find himself in

the interior of a prison. On being taken before the judge, he pleaded

"Not guilty," and said that he had been suffering for some days from

a terrible pain in his tooth, and yesterday had gone to the hakeem

(doctor) to obtain medicine to relieve the pain. The doctor had told

him that the best cure for his pain was to drink a little brandy, so

he had followed his advice, with the result that he fell asleep and

only awoke to find himself in prison. The judge then commiserated

the man on having such bad pain, but assured him it was easily

remedied. Calling to one of his servants, he ordered him to go at once

and fetch the barber, who acted as dentist to all such sufferers. The

prisoner assured his excellency the judge that it really did not

matter, the pain was better. "But," said the judge sympathetically,

"it may come back." The barber was brought and told to examine the

man's mouth. Finding no sign of decay, he assured the judge that the

teeth were sound. The judge began to revile the dentist, saying,

"You call yourself a dentist and do not know which is the tooth

causing this man pain. Find it, and pull it out at once." Trembling,

the dentist took his forceps and extracted a back tooth. "Let me see,"

cried the judge. "Why, that is not rotten; what do you mean by pulling

out a good tooth? Pull the rotten one out at once." Then the dentist

again operated on his unwilling victim, and a second time the judge

upbraided him for not drawing the right tooth, and ordered him to go

on till he had found the one that was decayed. The wretched prisoner,

feeling he could not bear to lose any more teeth, called out that it

was all a lie: he never had had any toothache, and only drank brandy

because he loved it, and promised never to touch it again. The judge

smilingly bade his prisoner begone, warning him, however, that next

time he offended all his teeth might have to come out.

Closely associated with drinking is the gambling habit. This too,

alas! is very prevalent in Mosul. In almost every house card-playing

forms the chief pastime both in the hareem and amongst the men, and,

as a rule, they play for money. Enormous sums of money are lost and

won in this way, and, unfortunately, those in good positions are

the ones who profit most by this gambling habit. One lady was the

possessor of many beautiful jewels, diamonds, pearls, &c., and I was

told that she had won them all by gambling.

We are always very glad to take part in the social customs of the

people when neither drinking nor gambling is part of the programme,

and I, at least, certainly very much enjoy a dinner served a l'Arabe,

with its attendant native entertainment. The after-dinner story-telling

is very amusing when you have mastered the language sufficiently

to be able to follow the drift of the tale. Shortly before leaving,

we gave a farewell dinner to some of our friends, and, after dinner,

entertained them with fireworks, while one of the guests amused us

all by recounting stories, some of which were very interesting. One

was as follows:--

"There is a village near Mosul called Tel Kaif, in which all the

inhabitants are Christians. They are a very original set of people,

differing altogether from the Christians of Mosul in language,

dress, and customs. They consider they are quite the most clever and

important people under the sun, and this idea is apparent in all their

actions. Many years ago there lived in Tel Kaif a very clever and

wise man called Uncle Goro. If any one was in trouble he immediately

went to this man for advice; if any were sorrowful, it was to Uncle

Goro they looked for consolation; were any sick, again it was Uncle

Goro alone who could heal them. In fact, Uncle Goro was looked upon

by the admiring villagers as their one hope and stay in times of

need. One day a cow belonging to the village felt very thirsty. Now,

the water supply of Tel Kaif is not very good, the villagers being

dependent upon a large pool of rain-water, which sometimes dries

up during the long-continued season of drought. Doubtless this cow

did not approve of drinking dirty rain-water, so, while seeking for

other means of slaking her thirst, she espied near the doorway of a

house a large earthen water-pot. Into this she looked longingly, but

her horns at first prevented her from reaching the water. However,

after a little careful manipulation and perseverance, she managed

to insert her head into the jar. When she had satisfied her thirst,

she tried to withdraw her head, but found she could not, so there it

had to remain, while the bewildered villagers looked on in helpless

astonishment. At last they decided to appeal to their wise man, so

one went off in search of him. When he arrived on the spot and beheld

the cow with her head in the water-jar, he considered thoughtfully

for a while, and then gave his advice in the following learned manner.

"Oh, my children," he cried, "here is such a simple matter, and yet

you could not find a way out of the difficulty. I am surprised that

my fellow-men should be so ignorant."

Then they all crowded round Uncle Goro, beseeching him out of his

great wisdom to tell them what to do.

"First," said Uncle Goro, "you must cut off the cow's head, then

break the water-pot and take out the head!"

This brilliant suggestion was at once put into practice, the owner of

the cow being the only one who was not quite so sure of the exceeding

greatness of the wisdom of Uncle Goro. When the deed was accomplished

and the head extricated from its awkward position, the old man stood

and proudly addressed the assembled crowd who had flocked to hear

his words of wisdom. "My beloved children," said he, "a day will come

when your old Uncle Goro will die, and then what will you do when you

have no one to settle such difficult matters as these for you? Pray to

God that your Uncle Goro may long be spared to advise and counsel you."

A rather pretty custom exists in Mosul which gives people titles

according to their work, or any special characteristics belonging

to them. For example, the butcher is called "the father of meat";

the baker, "the father of bread." In the hospital, when I am giving

orders for the diet list, we hardly ever speak of the patients by name,

but according to their disease, as "Aboo" (father) liver abscess,

"Aboo-mai-abiyud" (father of cataract). One of the assistants in

the hospital was named "The Angel of Death" by a poor little girl

who was brought to the doctor a mass of burns. It was the duty of

this assistant to dress the terrible wounds of the child every day,

and though as gentle as a woman, he necessarily pained her a great

deal--hence the term "Angel of Death." The women are designated in

the same way as the men, only substituting "mother" for "father," as

"Em haleeb," milk-woman; "Em saba' saba'een," mother of seventy-seven

(or centipede), this last simply referring to a girl suffering from

hysteria.