Eothen ... Fifth edition

Preface

(TO THE FIRST EDITION) ADDEESSED BY THE AUTHOR TO ONE OF HIS FRIENDS. When you first entertained the idea of travelling in the East, you asked me to send you an outline of the tour which I had made, in order that you might the better be able to choose a route for yourself. In answer to this request, I gave you a large French map, on which the course of my journey had been carefully marked ; but I did not conceal from myself, that this was rather a dry mode for a man to adopt, when he wished to impart the results of his experience to a dear, and intimate friend. Now, long before the period of youv planning an Oriental tour, I had intended to w-rite some account of my Eastern Travels. I had, indeed, begun the task, and had faded ; I had begun it a second time, and failing again, had abandoned my attempt with a sensation of utter distaste. I was unable to speak out, and chiefly, I think, for this

PREFACE.

. reason— that I knew not to whom I was speaking. It might be you, or, perhaps, our Lady of Bitterness, who would read my story ; or it might be some member of the Royal Statistical Society, and how on earth was I to write in a way that would do for ab three \ Well — your request for a sketch of my tour suggested to me the idea of complying with your wish by a revival of my twice abandoned attempt. I tried ; and the pleasure and confidence which I felt in speaking to you soon made my task so easy7, and even amusing, that after a whde (though not in time for y7our tour), I completed the scrawl from which this book was originabyprinted. The very feeling, however, wilich enabled me to write thus freely, prevented me from robing my thoughts in that grave and decorous styie which I shoidd have main tamed if I had professed to lecture the public.

Whilst I feigned to my-seb that you, and you only, were bsten ing, I could not by possibdity speak very solemnlv. Heaven forbid that I should talk to myown genial friend as though he were a great and enlightened Com munity, or any other respectable Aggregate ! Yet I web understood that the mere fact of my pro fessing to speak to you rather than to the pubbc gener ally, could not perfectly excuse me for printing a narra tive too roughly worded, and accordingly, in revising the proof sheets,! have struck out those phrases which seemed

PREFACE.

. to be less fit for a published volume than for intimate conversation. It is hardly to be expected, however, that correction of this kind should be perfectly complete. or that the almost boisterous tone in which many parts of the book were origmaby written should be thoroughly subdued. I venture, therefore, to ask, that the familiarity of language stib possibly apparent in the work, may be laid to the account of our debghtful intimacy, rather than to any presumptuous motive ; I feel, as you know, much too timidly — -too distantly, and too respectfuby towards the Public, to be capable of seeking to put mysefr on terms of easy fellowship with strange and casual readers. It is right to forewarn people (and I have tried to do this as web as I can, by my studiously unpromising title-page*) that the book is quite superficial in its character.

I have endeavoured to discard from it all valu able matter derived from the works of others, and it appears to me that my efforts in this direction have been attended with great success ; I bebeve I may truly acknowledge, that from ab detads of geographical discovery, or antiquarian research — from ab display of "sound learning, and rehgious knowledge" — from ab " Eothen " is, I hope, almost the only hard word to he found in the hook : it is writen in Greek r,uhv, — (Attice, with an aspirated E instead of the jj), — and signifies, " from the early dawn," — " from the East." — Donn. Lex. 4th edition.

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. historical and scientific ihustrations — from ab useful statistics — from all pobtical disquisitions — and from ab good moral reflections, the volume is thoroughly free. My excuse for the book is its truth : you and I know a man, fond of hazarding elaborate jokes, who, whenever a story of his happens not to go down as wit, wib evade the awkw-ardness of the fadure, by bravely maintaining that ab he has said is pure fact. I can honestly take this decent though humble mode of escape. My narra tive is not merely righteous in matters of fact (where fact is in question), but it is true in this larger sense — it conveys — not those impressions which ought to have been produced upon any " web constituted mind," but those which were reaby and truly received at tbe time of his rambles, by a headstrong and not very amiable traveder, whose prejudices in favour of other people's notions w7ere then exceedingly sbgbt.

As I have felt, so I have written ; and the result is, that there wib often be found in my narrative a jarring discord between the associations properly belonging to interesting sites, and the tone in which I speak of them. Tins seemingly perverse mode of treating the subject is forced upon me by my plan of adhering to sentimental truth, and really does not result from any impertinent wish to tease or trifle with readers. I ought, for distance, to have felt as strongly in Judæa, as in Gablee, but it w7as not so in

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. fact : the rehgious sentiment (born in solitude) which had heated my brain hi the Sanctuary of Nazareth was rudely chihed at the foot of Zion, by disenchanting scenes, and this change is accorclingly disclosed by the perfectly worldly tone in which I speak of Jerusalem and Bethlehem. My notion of dwelling precisely upon those matters which happened to interest me, and upon none other, would of course be intolerable in a regular Jxtok of travels. If I had been passing through countries not previously explored, it would have been sadly perverse to withhold careful descriptions of admirable objects, merely because my own feehngs of interest in them may have happened to flag ; but where the countries which one visits have been thoroughly, and ably described, and even artisticaby ibustrated by others, one is fuby at liberty to say as bttle (though not quite so much) as one chooses.

Now a traveber is a creature not always looking at sights — he remembers (bow often !) the happy land of his birth — he has, too, his moments of humble enthusiasm about fire, and food — about shade, and drink ; and if he gives to these feebngs anything like the promi nence which reaby belonged to them at the time of his travelling, he wib not seem a very good teacher ; once having determined to write the sheer truth concerning the things which chiefly have interested him, he must,

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. and he wib, sing a sadly long strain about Sefr ; be wib talk for whole pages together about his bivouac fire, and ruin the Ruins of Baalbec with eight or ten cold lines. But it seems to me that this egotism of a traveber, however incessant — however shameless and obtrusive — must stib convey some true ideas of the country through which he has passed. His very selfishness — his habit of referring the whole external w-orld to his own sensations, compels him, as it were, in Ids writings, to observe the laws of perspective ; he tebs yrou of objects, not as he knows them to be, but as they seemed to him. The people, and the things that most concern him personaby, however mean and insignificant, take large proportions in his picture, because they stand so near to him. He shows you his Dragoman and the gaunt features of his Arabs — his tent — his kneeling camels — -his baggage strewed upon the sand ; but the proper wonders ,of the land — the cities — the mighty ruins and monuments of bygone ages, he throws back faintly in the distance.

It is thus that he felt, and thus he strives to repeat, the scenes of the Elder World. You may listen to him for ever without learning much hi the wayof Statistics ; but, perhaps, if you bear with him long enough, you may find yourself slowly and faintly impressed with the realities of Eastern Travel. My scheme of refusing to dweb upon matters which

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. 9 failed to interest my own feelings, has been departed from in one instance — namely hi my detad of the late Lady Hester Stanhope's conversation on supernatural topics ; the truth is, that I have been much questioned on this subject, and I thought that my best plan would be to wTite down at once all that I coidd ever have to say concerning the personage whose career has excited so much curiosity amongst Englishwomen. The result is, that my account of the lady goes to a length which is not justified either by the importance of the subject, or by the extent to which it interested the narrator. You wdl see that I constantly speak of " my People," " my Party," " my Arabs," and so on, using terms which might possibly seem to imply that I moved about with a pompous retinue. This, of course, was not the case.

I travebed with the simpbcity proper to my station, as one of the industrious class, who was not flying from his country because of ennui, but was strengthening his wdl, and tempering the metal of his nature for that bfe of tod and conflict in which he is now engaged. But an Englishman, journeying in the East, must necessarily have with him Dragomen capable of interpreting the Oriental languages ; the absence of wheeled-carriages obbges him to use several beasts of burthen for his baggage, as web as for himself and his attendants ; the owners of the horses or camels, with their slaves or ser-

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. vants, faU in as part of his train, and altogether the cavalcade becomes rather numerous, without, however, occasioning any proportionate increase of expense. When a traveber speaks of all these fobowers in mass, he cabs them his " people," or his " troop," or his " party," without intending to make you believe that he is there fore a Sovereign Prince. You wib see that I sometimes fobow the custom of the Scots in describing my febow countrymen by the names of their paternal homes. Of course ab these explanations are meant for casual readers. To you, without one syllable of excuse or deprecation, and in ah the confidence of a friendship that never yet was clouded, I give the long promised volume, and add but this one "Good-bye !" for I dare not stand greeting y-ou here. CONTENTS. Page Chap. I. Over the Border . . . .13 II.

Turkish Travelling . . . .27 III. Constantinople . . . . .44 TV The Teoad 55 V. Infidel Smyrna . . . . .64 VI. Greek Mariners . . . .78 VII. Cyprus 90 VIII. Lady Hester Stanhope . . .99 IX. The Sanctuary 130 X. The Monks of Palestine . . .135 XI. Galilee . . . . . .144 XII. My First Bivouac . . . .149 XIII. The Dead Sea 159 XIV. The Black Tents . . . .167 XV. Passage of the Jordan . . .171 XVI. Terra Santa 179 XVII. The Desert CONTENTS. Pace Chap. XVIII. Cairo and the Plague . . . 230 XIX. The Pyramids . . . .262 XX The Sphynx . . . .267 XXI. Cairo to Suez . . . .269 XXII. Suez 279 XXIII. Suez to Gaza . . .287 XXIV. Gaza to Nablous . . .296 XXV. Mariam 302 XXVI. The Prophet Damoor . . .313 XXVII. Damascus 319 XXVIII. Pass op the Lebanon . . .329 XXIX. Surprise of Satalieh . . . EOTHEN

Chapter I

over the border. At Semlin I stib was encompassed by the scenes and the sounds of familiar life ; the din "of a busy world still vexed and cheered me ; the unveded faces of women stib shone in the bght of day. Yet, whenever I chose to look southward, I saw the Ottoman's fortress — austere, and darkly impending high over the vale of the Danube — historic Belgrade. I had come, as it were, to the end of this wheel-going Europe, and now my eyres would see the Splendour and Havoc of The East. The two frontier towns are less than a gun-shot apart, yet their people hold no communion. The Hungarian on the North, and the Turk and the Servian on the Southern side of the Save, are as much asunder as though there were fifty broad provinces that lay in the path between them. Of the men that bustled around me in the streets of Semlin, there was not, perhaps, one who had ever gone dowm to look upon the stranger race EOTHEN dwelling under the walls of that opposite castle.

It is the Plague, and the dread of the Plague, that divide the one people from the other. Ab coming and going stands forbidden by the terrors of the yebow flag. If you dare to break the laws of the quarantine, you will be tried with mditary haste ; the court wib scream out your sentence to you from a tribunal some fifty yards off; the priest, instead of gently whispering to you the sweet hopes of rebgion, wib console you at duelling distance, and after that you will find yourself carefully shot, and carelessly buried in the ground of the Lazaretto. When ab w-as in order for our departure, we walked down to the precincts of the Quarantine Establishment, and here awaited us "the "compromised"* officer of the Austrian Government, whose duty it is to superintend the passage of the frontier, and who for that purpose hves in a state of perpetual excommunication.

The boats with thefr " compromised" row7ers wrere also hi readiness. After corning in contact with, any creature or thing belonging to the Ottoman Empire it woidd be impossible for us to return to the Austrian territory without under going an imprisonment of fourteen clay7s in the Lazaretto. We felt therefore that before we committed ourselves, it was important to take care that none of the arrange- * A " compromised" person is one who has been in contact with people or things supposed to he capable of conveying infection. As a general rule, the whole Ottoman empire lies constantly under this terrible ban. The " yellow flag " is the ensign of the Quarantine Establishment. ments necessary for the journey had been forgotten ; and in our anxiety to avoid such a misfortune we managed the work of departure from Sembn with nearly as much solemnity as if we had been departing this bfe.

Some obliging persons from whom w-e had received civili ties during our short stay in the place, came down to say their farew-eb at the river's side ; and now, as we stood with them at the distance of three or four yards from the " compromised" officer, they asked if w7e were perfectly certain that we had w7ound up ab our affairs in Christendom, and whether w7e had no parting requests to make. We repeated the caution to our servants, and took anxious thought lest by any possibility we might be cut off from some cherished object of affection : — were they quite sure that nothing had been forgotten — that there w-as no fragrant dressing-case with its gold compel bng letters of credit from which we might be parting for ever 1 — No — every one of our treasures lay safely stowed in the boat, and we — we were ready to follow-.

Now therefore we shook hands with our Semlin friends, and they immediately retreated for three or four paces, so as to leave us in the centre of a space between them and the " compromised" officer ; the latter then advanced, and asking once more if we had done with the civihzed world, held forth his hand — I met it with ndne, and there was an end to Christendom for many a day to come. We soon neared the southern bank of the river, but no sounds came down from the blank wahs above, and there was no bving thing that we could yet see, except EOTHEN. one great hovering bird of the vulture race flying low and bitent, and wheeling round and round over the Pest accused city. But presently there issued from the postern a group of human beings, — beings with immortal souls, and pos sibly some reasoning faculties, but to me the grand point was this, that they had real, substantial, and incontro vertible turbans ; they made for the point towards which we were steering, and when at last I sprang upon the shore, I heard and saw myself now first surrounded hy men of Asiatic blood : I have since ridden through the land of the Osmanlees — from the Servian Border to the Golden Horn — from the Gulf of Satabeh to the Tomb of Achilles ; but never have I seen such hyper-Turk looking fellows as those who received me on the banks of the Save ; they were men in the humblest order of life, having come to meet our boat in the hope of earning something bycarrying our luggage up to the city, but, poor though they w7ere, it was plain that they were Turks of the proud old school, and had not yet forgotten the fierce, careless bearing of their once victorious race.

Though the province of Servia generally7 has obtained a kind of independence, y7et Belgrade, as being a place of strength on the frontier, is stib garrisoned by Turkish troops under the command of a Pasha. Whether the febows who now surrounded us were soldiers or peaceful inhabitants I did not understand ; they wore the old Turkish costume ; vests and jackets of many and bribiant colours divided from the loose petticoat-trousers by heavy volumes of shawl so thickly folded around their w7aists as to give the meagre wearers something of the dignity of true corpulence. This cincture enclosed a whole buncbe of weapons ; no man bore less than one brace of immensely long pistols and a yataghan (or cutlass), with a dagger or two of various shapes and sizes ; most of these arms were inlaid with silver highly burnished, and they shone ab the more lustrously for being worn along with garments decayed and even tattered (this carefulness of his arms is a point of honour with the Osmardee ; he never abows his bright yataghan to suffer from his own adversity) : then the long drooping mustachios and the ample folds of the once white turbans that lowered over the piercing eyes and the haggard features of the men gave them an air of gloomy pride, and that appearance of trying to be disdainful under difficulties which one almost always sees in those of the Ottoman people who bve and remember old times ; they looked as if they w7ould have thought themselves more usefuhy, more honourably, and more piously employed in cutting our throats than iu carrying our portmanteaus.

The faithful Steel (Methley's Yorkshire servant) stood aghast for a moment at the sight of his master's luggage upon the shoulders of these warlike porters, and when at last we began to move, he could scarcely avoid turning round to cast one affectionate look towards Christendom, but quickly again he marched on with the steps of a man — not frightened exactly, but sternly prepared for death, or the Koran, or even for plural wives. c EOTHEN The Moslem quarter of a city is lonely and desolate ; you go up, and down, and on, over shelving and hibocky paths through the narrow lanes wabed in by blank, windowless dwellings ; you come out upon an open space strewed with the black rains that some late fire has left ; you pass by a mountain of castaway things, the rubbish of centuries, and on it you see numbers of big, wob-hke dogs lying torpid under the sun, with bmbs outstretched to the sub, as if they were dead ; storks or cranes, sitting fearless upon the low roofs, look gravely down upon you ; the stdl air that you breathe is loaded with the scent of citron and pomegranate rinds scorched by the sun, or (as you approach the Bazaar) with the dry, dead perfume of strange spices.

You long for some signs of life, and tread the ground more heavily, as though you would wake the sleepers with the heel of y7our boot ; but the foot sabs noiseless upon the crumbling sod of an eastern city, and Silence fobows you stdl. Again and again you meet turbans, and faces of men, but they have nothing for you — no welcome — no wonder — no wrath — no scorn — they look upon you as we do upon a December's fall of snow — as a " seasonable," unaccountable, uncomfortable work of God that may have been sent for some good puipose — to be revealed hereafter. Some people had come down to meet us with an invitation from the Pasha, and we wound our way7 up to the castle. At the gates there were groups of soldiers, some smoking, and some lying flat bke coipses upon the cool stones. We went through courts, ascended steps, passed along a corridor, and walked into an airy, white washed room, with an European clock at one end of it, and Moostapha Pasha at the other : the fine, old, bearded potentate looked very bke Jove — bke Jove, too, in the midst of his clouds, for the sdver fumes of the Narguile* hung hghtly circling round him.

The Pasha received us with the smooth kind, gentle manner that belongs to web bred Osmanlees ; then he lightly clapped his hands, and instantly the sound idled ab the lower end of the room with slaves : a sybable dropped from his hps ; it bowed ab heads, and conjured away the attendants hke ghosts (their coming and their going w7as thus swift and quiet, because their feet were bare, and they passed through no door, but only by the yielding folds of a purder). Soon the coffee-bearers appeared, every man carrying separately his tiny cup in a smab metal stand ; and presently to each of us there came a pipe-bearer — a grave and solemn functionary, who first rested the bowi of the tchibouque at a measured distance on the floor, and then, on this axis, wheeled round the long cherry tube, and gracefuby presented it on half-bended knee : already the fire (web kindled beforehand) was glowing secure in the bowl, and so, when I pressed the amber lip to mine, there was no coy ness to conquer ; the willing fume came up, and answered * The Narguile is a water-pipe upon the plan of the Hookah, but more gracefully fashioned ; the smoke is drawn by a very long flexible tube that winds its snake-like way from the vase to the lips of the beatified smoker.

EOTHEN. my shghtest sigh, and fobowed softly every breath inspired, tih it touched me with some faint sense and understanding of Asiatic contentment. Asiatic contentment ! Yet hardly, perhaps, one hour before I had been w7anting my bib, and ringing for waiters in a shrib and busy hotel. In the Ottoman dominions there is scarcely any hereditary influence except that belonging to the family of the Sidtan, and wealth too, is a highly volatile blessing, not easdy transmitted to the descendants of the owner. From these causes it results, that the people standing in the place of nobles and gentry, are official personages ; and though many (indeed the greater num ber) of these potentates are humbly born and bred, you w7ib seldom, I think, find them wanting in that pohshed smoothness of manner and those web-undidating tones which belong to the best Osmanlees.

The truth is, that most of the men in authority have risen from their humble station by the arts of the courtier, aud they keep in thefr high estate those gentle powers of fascination to which they owe thefr success. Yet unless you can con trive to learn a bttle of the language, you will be rather bored by y7our visits of ceremony ; the intervention of the Dragoman is fatal to the spirit of conversation. I think I should mislead you, h° 1 were to attempt to give the substance of any particular conversation with Orien tals. A traveber may write and say that, " the Pasha of So-and-So was particularly interested in the vast pro gress which has been made in the application of steam, and appeared to understand the structure of our machinery — that he remarked upon the gigantic results of our manufacturing industry — showed that he possessed con siderable knowledge of our Indian affairs, and of the constitution of the Company, and expressed a lively admiration of the many sterling qualities for which the people of England are distinguished."

But the heap of common-places thus quietly attributed to the Pasha wib have been founded perhaps on some such talking as this ; — ■ Pasha. — The Enghshman is welcome ; most blessed among hours is tins, the hour of his coming. Dragoman (to the Traveber). — The Pasha pays you his compliments. Traveller. — Give him my best compliments in return, and say I'm debghted to have the honour of seeing him. Dragoman (to the Pasha). — His Lordship, this Englishman, Lord of London, Scorner of Ireland, Sup pressor of France, has quitted his governments, and left his enemies to breathe for a moment, and has crossed the broad waters in strict disguise, with a small but eternally faithful retinue of followers, in order that he might look upon the bright countenance of the Pasha among Pashas — the Pasha of the everlasting Pashabk of Karagho lookoldour.

Traveller (to his Dragoman). — What on earth have you been saying about London 1 The Pasha wib be taking me for a mere cockney. Have not I told you always to say, that I am from a branch of the family of EOTHEN. Mudcombe Park, and that I am to be a magistrate for the county of Bedfordshire, only I've not qualified, and that I should have been a Deputy-Lieutenant, if it had not been for the extraordinary conduct of Lord Mount promise, and that I was a candidate for Boughton- Soldborough at the last election, and that I should have won easy if my committee had not been bribed. I wish to heaven that if y7ou do say any thing about me, you'd teb the simple truth. Dragmian — [is silent]. Pasha. — What say-s the friendly Lord of London ? is there aught that I can grant him within the Pashabk of Karagholookoldour ?

Dragoman (growing sulky and bteral). — Tins friendly Englishman — this branch of Mudcombe — this head purveyor of Boughton-Soldborough — this possible police man of Bedfordshire is recounting his achievements and the number of his titles. Pasha. — The end of his honours is more cbstant than the ends of the earth, and the catalogue of his glorious deeds is brighter than the firmament of heaven ! Dragoman (to the Traveber). — The Pasha congratu lates your Excebency7. Traveller. — About Boughton-Soldborough 1 The deuce he does ! — but I want to get at his views, in relation to the present state of the Ottoman Empire ; tell him the Houses of Parliament have met, and that there has been a speech from the throne pledging England to maintain the integrity of the Sultan's dominions. Dragoman (to the Pasha). — This branch of Mud combe, this possible policeman of Bedfordshire, mforms your Highness that in England the talking houses have met, and that the integrity of the Sultan's dominions has been assured for ever and ever by a speech from the velvet chair.

Pasha. — Wonderful chair ! Wonderful houses ! — whirr ! whirr ! ab by wheels ! — whiz ! whiz ! ab by steam! — wonderful chair! wonderful houses ! wonderful people ! — whirr ! whirr ! all by wheels ! — whiz ! whiz ! ab by steam ! Traveller (to the Dragoman). — What does the Pasha mean by that whizzing . he does not mean to say, does he, that our Government wib ever abandon their pledges to the Sultan \ Dragoman. — No, your Excebency, but he says the Engbsh talk by wheels, and by steam. Traveller. — That's an exaggeration ; but say that the Engbsh reaby have carried machinery to great perfection ; teb the Pasha (he '11 be struck with that), that whenever we have any disturbances to put down, even at two or three hundred mdes from London, we can send troops by the thousand to the scene of action, in a few hours.

Dragoman (recovering his temper and freedom of speech). — His Excebency, this Lord of Mudcombe, observes to your Highness, that whenever the Irish, or the French, or the Indians rebel against the Engbsh, whole armies of soldiers, and brigades of artibery, are dropped into a mighty chasm cabed Euston Square, and EOTHEN. in the biting of a cartridge they rise up again in Manchester, or Dublin, or Paris, or Debii, and utterly exterminate the enemies of England from the face of the earth. Pasha. — I know it — I know ab — the particulars have been faithfuby related to me, and my mind comprehends locomotives. The armies of the English ride upon the vapours of boiling cauldrons, and their horses are flaming coals ! — whirr ! wiiirr ! ab by7 wheels ! — whiz ! whiz ! ab by steam ! Traveller (to his Dragoman). — I wish to have the opinion of an unprejudiced Ottoman gentleman as to the prospects of our English commerce and manufac tures ; just ask the Pasha to give me his views on the subject.