The title “Shadow of God,” or “Divine Shadow,” is really used comparatively rarely, and only in the Court language. Judged by a strict standard it is of doubtful orthodoxy. It is hardly correct to call them the Unitarians of the Moslem world, as Kinglake does, for Unitarianism, that is Antitrinitarianism, is the essence of all Mohammedanism. Aden was occupied in 1839. Eothen must have been written between the tour in 1834 and its publication in 1844, but there seems to be no evidence as to the date of composition, and perhaps it was not all written at once. This is “The moving row Of magic shadow shapes which come and go,” mentioned in Fitzgerald’s version of Omar Khayyam. [“Our Lady of Bitterness,” said to have been a nickname of Mrs. Barry Cornwall, noted for her sharp tongue.] “Eothen” is, I hope, almost the only hard word to be found in the book; it is written in Greek ???e?—(AtticÈ, with an aspirated e instead of the ?)—and signifies, “from the early dawn”—“from the East.”—Donn. Lex, 4th edition. [This is all changed now. There is constant communication beween the Servian and Hungarian banks, so much so that Belgrade presents few national characteristics, and looks quite as much a Hungarian as a Servian town.] A “compromised” person is one who has been in contact with people or things supposed to be 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. The narghile 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. [The wording “amber up to mine,” found in many editions, is evidently a misreading of Kinglake’s handwriting. He must have made his l’s rather small and not have dotted his i’s.] That is, if he stands up at all. Oriental etiquette would not warrant his rising, unless his visitor were supposed to be at least his equal in point of rank and station. [A man in charge of post-horses. At the present day most business connected with horse-transport in European Turkey is managed by Vlachs, a people speaking a language closely akin to Roumanian, and scattered over Macedonia, particularly near the Thessalian frontier.] [This accomplished gentleman subsequently became the proprietor of an hotel, which was long the principal hostelry of Constantinople. The name still exists, but the building has been burnt down.] The continual marriages of these people with the chosen beauties of Georgia and Circassia have overpowered the original ugliness of their Tatar ancestors. [The remains of this pyramid, or rather the chapel which is erected over them, can be seen close to the railway immediately after leaving Nish for Pirot and the Bulgarian frontier. Only two or three skulls are now left embedded in masonry. According to the story now told in Servia, Singelich, a Servian leader during the Karageorge Insurrection, when hard pressed by the Turks, fired into his powder magazine, and blew up himself and his followers as well as numbers of his enemies. The Turks, in order to intimidate the other Serbs, collected the heads of the victims and built of them a tower or pyramid. In 1878, when Nish became part of the principality of Servia, most of the skulls were removed and buried, but two or three remain.] There is almost always a breeze either from the Marmora or from the Black Sea, that passes along the course of the Bosphorus. The yashmak, you know, is not a mere semi-transparent veil, but rather a good substantial petticoat applied to the face; it thoroughly conceals all the features, except the eyes; the way of withdrawing it is by pulling it down. The “pipe of tranquillity” is a tchibouque too long to be conveniently carried on a journey; the possession of it therefore implies that its owner is stationary, or, at all events, that he is enjoying a long repose from travel. [The structure of Turkish can only be said to resemble Latin in the general sense that the verb comes at the end of the sentence, which can be swelled out to enormous, and indeed preposterous, dimensions. The Turk of the old school thinks that a letter or document, and even a single chapter of a book, ought to consist of one sentence; but in this respect there has been considerable improvement of late, and modern newspapers and light literature are written in phrases of relatively reasonable length,—not longer, say, than German,—and with a much smaller proportion of Arabic and Persian words. The Osmanli gets few opportunities for public speaking nowadays, but it is said that the short-lived Turkish Parliament in 1877 furnished a very creditable oratorical display.] [Since this chapter was written the labours of Schliemann and Dorpfeld have excavated Hissarlik, commonly considered to be the site of Troy, though some prefer to identify the city of the Iliad with the ruins of Bunar Bashi, farther inland. Hissarlik is a huge mound, in a singularly desolate plain about an hour’s ride from Kum Kale, at the entrance of the Dardanelles, and is said to be composed of the ruins of no less than eight or nine cities placed one on the top of the other. Of the older layers the best preserved are the second and sixth cities. There are no statues, inscriptions, or other indications, so that the structure of this pile of dead towns is excessively difficult to understand, and only becomes intelligible when explained by someone thoroughly acquainted with the course of the excavations; for in order to reach the lower layers it has naturally been necessary to displace the upper ones. The general character of the scene is still excellently described by Byron’s lines in Don Juan, Cant. iv.: “Here, on the green and village-cotted hill, is (Flanked by the Hellespont and by the sea) Entombed the bravest of the brave, Achilles; (They say so—Bryant says the contrary): And further downward, tall and towering still, is The tumulus—of whom? Heaven knows; ‘t may be Patroclus, Ajax, or Protesilaus; All heroes, who, if living still, would slay us. High barrows, without marble or a name, A vast, untilled, and mountain-skirted plain, And Ida, in the distance, still the same, And old Scamander (if ‘t be he), remain; The situation still seems formed for fame— A hundred thousand men might fight again, With ease; but where I looked for Ilion’s walls, The quiet sheep feeds, and the tortoise crawls. Troops of untended horses; here and there Some little hamlets, with new names uncouth; Some shepherds (not like Paris), led to stare A moment at the European youth, Whom to the spot his schoolboy feelings bear; A Turk, with beads in hand and pipe in mouth, Extremely taken with his own religion, Are what I found there—but the devil a Phrygian.”] The Jews of Smyrna are poor, and having little merchandise of their own to dispose of, they are sadly importunate in offering their services as intermediaries: their troublesome conduct has led to the custom of beating them in the open streets. It is usual for Europeans to carry long sticks with them, for the express purpose of keeping off the chosen people. I always felt ashamed to strike the poor fellows myself, but I confess to the amusement with which I witnessed the observance of this custom by other people. The Jew seldom got hurt much, for he was always expecting the blow, and was ready to recede from it the moment it came: one could not help being rather gratified at seeing him bound away so nimbly, with his long robes floating out in the air, and then again wheel round, and return with fresh importunities. [Carrigaholt is said to have been Henry Stuart Burton, of Carrigaholt, County Clare.] Marriages in the East are arranged by professed matchmakers; many of these, I believe, are Jewesses. A Greek woman wears her whole fortune upon her person in the shape of jewels or gold coins; I believe that this mode of investment is adopted in great measure for safety’s sake. It has the advantage of enabling a suitor to reckon as well as to admire the objects of his affection. St. Nicholas is the great patron of Greek sailors. A small picture of him enclosed in a glass case is hung up like a barometer at one end of the cabin. Hanmer. “. . . ubi templum illi, centumque SabÆo Thure calent arÆ, sertisque recentibus halant.” —Æneid, i. 415. The writer advises that none should attempt to read the following account of the late Lady Hester Stanhope except those who may already chance to feel an interest in the personage to whom it relates. The chapter (which has been written and printed for the reasons mentioned in the preface) is chiefly filled with the detailed conversation, or rather discourse, of a highly eccentric gentlewoman. Historically “fainting”; the death did not occur until long afterwards. I am told that in youth she was exceedingly sallow. This was my impression at the time of writing the above passage, an impression created by the popular and uncontradicted accounts of the matter, as well as by the tenor of Lady Hester’s conversation. I have now some reason to think that I was deceived, and that her sway in the desert was much more limited than I had supposed. She seems to have had from the Bedouins a fair five hundred pounds’ worth of respect, and not much more. She spoke it, I daresay, in English; the words would not be the less effective for being spoken in an unknown tongue. Lady Hester, I believe, never learnt to speak the Arabic with a perfect accent. The proceedings thus described to me by Lady Hester as having taken place during her illness, were afterwards re-enacted at the time of her death. Since I wrote the words to which this note is appended, I received from Warburton an interesting account of the heroine’s death, or rather the circumstances attending the discovery of the event; and I caused it to be printed in the former editions of this work. I must now give up the borrowed ornament, and omit my extract from my friend’s letter, for the rightful owner has reprinted it in The Crescent and the Cross. I know what a sacrifice I am making, for in noticing the first edition of this book reviewers turned aside from the text to the note, and remarked upon the interesting information which Warburton’s letter contained. (This narrative is reproduced in an Appendix to the present edition.) In a letter which I afterwards received from Lady Hester, she mentioned incidentally Lord Hardwicke, and said that he was “the kindest-hearted man existing—a most manly, firm character. He comes from a good breed—all the Yorkes excellent, with ancient French blood in their veins.” The underscoring of the word “ancient” is by the writer of the letter, who had certainly no great love or veneration for the French of the present day: she did not consider them as descended from her favourite stock. It is said that deaf people can hear what is said concerning themselves, and it would seem that those who live without books or newspapers know all that is written about them. Lady Hester Stanhope, though not admitting a book or newspaper into her fortress, seems to have known the way in which M. Lamartine mentioned her in his book, for in a letter which she wrote to me after my return to England she says, “Although neglected, as Monsieur le M.” (referring, as I believe, to M. Lamartine) “describes, and without books, yet my head is organised to supply the want of them as well as acquired knowledge.” I have been recently told that this Italian’s pretensions to the healing art were thoroughly unfounded. My informant is a gentleman who enjoyed during many years the esteem and confidence of Lady Hester Stanhope; his adventures in the Levant were most curious and interesting. The Greek Church does not recognise this as the true sanctuary, and many Protestants look upon all the traditions by which it is attempted to ascertain the holy places of Palestine as utterly fabulous. For myself, I do not mean either to affirm or deny the correctness of the opinion which has fixed upon this as the true site, but merely to mention it as a belief entertained without question by my brethren of the Latin Church, whose guest I was at the time. It would be a great aggravation of the trouble of writing about these matters if I were to stop in the midst of every sentence for the purpose of saying “so called” or “so it is said,” and would besides sound very ungraciously: yet I am anxious to be literally true in all I write. Now, thus it is that I mean to get over my difficulty. Whenever in this great bundle of papers or book (if book it is to be) you see any words about matters of religion which would seem to involve the assertion of my own opinion, you are to understand me just as if one or other of the qualifying phrases above mentioned had been actually inserted in every sentence. My general direction for you to construe me thus will render all that I write as strictly and actually true as if I had every time lugged in a formal declaration of the fact that I was merely expressing the notions of other people. “Vino d’oro.” Shereef. Tennyson. The other three cities held holy by Jews are Jerusalem, Hebron, and Safet. (The tented Arabs are no doubt very bad Mohammedans, but the assumption which Kinglake seems to make that prostrations are essential to a Moslem religious ceremony is not correct. The form of prayer called in Turkey Namaz, which ought to be performed by every devout Moslem five times a day, does necessarily involve prostrations in which the forehead touches the ground, but it is by no means the only, though doubtless the most important, act of worship mentioned by Islam. In the present case the ceremony was probably a blessing, which is generally given by closing the eyes and uplifting the arms with the hands bent back and the palms open. I have often seen such benedictions given when a party sets out for a pilgrimage or any other purpose.) Hadji, a pilgrim. [Kinglake might have added that Mohammedans admit that Christ worked miracles and was miraculously born of a virgin. They do not however believe that He was crucified.] Milnes cleverly goes to the French for the exact word which conveys the impression produced by the voice of the Arabs, and calls them “un peuple criard.” There is some semblance of bravado in my manner of talking about the plague. I have been more careful to describe the terrors of other people than my own. The truth is, that during the whole period of my stay at Cairo I remained thoroughly impressed with a sense of my danger. I may almost say, that I lived in perpetual apprehension, for even in sleep, as I fancy, there remained with me some faint notion of the peril with which I was encompassed. But fear does not necessarily damp the spirits; on the contrary, it will often operate as an excitement, giving rise to unusual animation, and thus it affected me. If I had not been surrounded at this time by new faces, new scenes, and new sounds, the effect produced upon my mind by one unceasing cause of alarm might have been very different. As it was, the eagerness with which I pursued my rambles among the wonders of Egypt was sharpened and increased by the sting of the fear of death. Thus my account of the matter plainly conveys an impression that I remained at Cairo without losing my cheerfulness and buoyancy of spirits. And this is the truth, but it is also true, as I have freely confessed, that my sense of danger during the whole period was lively and continuous. AnglicÉ for “je le sais.” These answers of mine, as given above, are not meant as specimens of mere French, but of that fine, terse, nervous, Continental English with which I and my compatriots make our way through Europe. This language, by the by, is one possessing great force and energy, and is not without its literature, a literature of the very highest order. Where will you find more sturdy specimens of downright, honest, and noble English than in the Duke of Wellington’s “French” despatches? The import of the word “compromised,” when used in reference to contagion, is explained on page 18. It is said, that when a Mussulman finds himself attacked by the plague he goes and takes a bath. The couches on which the bathers recline would carry infection, according to the notions of the Europeans. Whenever, therefore, I took the bath at Cairo (except the first time of my doing so) I avoided that part of the luxury which consists in being “put up to dry” upon a kind of bed. [See footnote, Introduction, p. xxi.] [Mohammedans commonly believe that the souls of the dead do not rest in peace till their bodies are laid in the tomb. Hence they bury the corpse as quickly as possible, and run to the cemetery in order to shorten the interval during which the departed spirit is kept waiting. After a few brief prayers at the graveside, the mourners retire forty paces, halt, and pray again. It is believed that at this moment two angels visit the deceased, inquire of his religious belief, and, if he replies in the words of the formula, that there is “no God but God, and Mohammed is the Prophet of God,” admit him, not exactly to Paradise, but to a very tolerable section of Purgatory.] Mehemet Ali invited the Mamelukes to a feast, and murdered them whilst preparing to enter the banquet hall. It is not strictly lawful to sell white slaves to a Christian. The difficulty was occasioned by the immense exertions which the Pasha was making to collect camels for military purposes. Herodotus, in an after age, stood by with his notebook, and got, as he thought, the exact returns of all the rations served out. [The author of the Crescent and the Cross, which appeared the same year as Eothen.] See Milman’s History of the Jews, first edition. [Nablus still maintains its reputation for bigotry.] This is an appellation not implying blame, but merit; the “lies” which it purports to affiliate are feints and cunning stratagems, rather than the baser kind of falsehoods. The expression, in short, has nearly the same meaning as the English word “Yorkshireman.” The 29th of April. [This was no doubt the case in this particular, but it must not be supposed that April 29 is the Mohammedan New Year’s Day. The Moslem religious year consists of twelve lunar months, and is eleven days shorter than the Christian year. Hence, if in one year Muharrem (the first month) falls on April 29, it would fall on April 18 the next. In consequence of the great inconveniences of this mode of reckoning, Turks adopt for secular matters another era called the Financial year, which starts from the Hijra, but has solar months. But feasts and fasts are fixed by the lunar year, so that the month of Ramazan rotates through all the seasons.] [The statements at the beginning of this chapter are altogether inaccurate. From the religious point of view a good Mohammedan is as much, and more, bound than a Christian to encourage any form of missionary enterprise, seeing that all non-Moslems are destined to inevitable damnation. From the legal and practical point of view, the exercise of all religions is nominally free in Turkey and it is therefore illegal to convert a Christian at the point of the sword, but it will be sufficient to remind the reader that during the massacres of 1895–96 many thousands of Armenians turned Mohammedans, and that those who wished to subsequently return to their old religion found great difficulty in doing so. As a rule Turks despise the Christian races too much to take any trouble about converting them, but it is absurd to say that conversions are illegal. On the contrary, they are fairly frequent, and it is only necessary that the person converted should state publicly that his change of religion is due to his own free will. Cases of young girls embracing Islam are not rare. According to the law, minors wishing to become Moslems must be taken to the house of a respectable person, where a priest of their own religion can have access to them, and their change of faith is not legal until they are of age (which means in the case of a girl twelve or thirteen), but in practice every effort is made to isolate them in such cases from their friends and surround them with Mohammedans.] These are the names given by the Prophet to certain chapters of the Koran. It was after the interview which I am talking of, and not from the Jews themselves, that I learnt this fact. An enterprising American traveller, Mr. Everett, lately conceived the bold project of penetrating to the University of Oxford, and this notwithstanding that he had been in his infancy (they begin very young those Americans) a Unitarian preacher. Having a notion, it seems, that the ambassadorial character would protect him from insult, he adopted the stratagem of procuring credentials from his Government as Minister Plenipotentiary at the Court of her Britannic Majesty; he also wore the exact costume of a Trinitarian. But all his contrivances were vain; Oxford disdained, and rejected, and insulted him (not because he represented a swindling community, but) because that his infantine sermons were strictly remembered against him; the enterprise failed. The rose-trees which I saw were all of the kind we call “damask”; they grow to an immense height and size. A dragoman never interprets in terms the courteous language of the East. [This place, which is commonly called Adalia (Antalia in Turkish), is now a port in the province of Konia. In the time of the Crusades the name varied between Attalie (or Attalia) and Sattalie (Sattalia). As it seems clear that it is derived from the founder, King Attalus, the S must be a later addition, and is perhaps to be identified with the Greek preposition els, which is responsible for such forms as Istambol (e?? t?? p????).] A title signifying transcender or conqueror of Satalieh. [298c] [Sataliefsky is merely an adjective derived from Satalieh, and means “the Satalian,” just as Zabalkansky (p. 24) means “the Trans-Balkanic one.” I mention this because in both cases Kinglake gives the translation “Transcender” of the Balkans or Satalieh.] Spelt “Attalia” and sometimes “Adalia” in English books and maps. While Lady Hester Stanhope lived, although numbers visited the convent, she almost invariably refused admittance to strangers. She assigned as a reason the use which M. de Lamartine had made of his interview. Mrs. T., who passed some weeks at Djouni, told me, that when Lady Hester read his account of this interview, she exclaimed, “It is all false; we did not converse together for more than five minutes; but no matter, no traveller hereafter shall betray or forge my conversation.” The author of Eothen, however, was her guest, and has given us an interesting account of his visit in his brilliant volume. In the printed book the last page is a specimen page (34) of Vanity Fair. It’s been omitted in this transcription on release.—DP. |
|