July, 1843.

My dear Friend,

Since I remarked to you the general cheerfulness which reigns in the hareems I had then seen, I have visited one belonging to a Turkish grandee, which offers a sad exception, and touchingly exhibits a picture of family love and blighted happiness. The old and beloved master of this hareem is under a cloud; he is suffering the displeasure of the Pasha, and is confined in the state prison. I received a most kind welcome from the ladies of his family. I remarked with regret the depression which weighed down the spirits of all who composed it, and I was shocked to hear from the chief lady that she also was a prisoner, having orders not to quit her house.

She was attired in a kind of morning-dress, of white, embroidered with black; but wore a splendid kind of crown.^[35] This was composed of diamonds, set in gold, forming flowers, &c.,—the whole being of a convex shape, circular, and about six inches in diameter. It was worn upon the crown of the head, attached to the cap round which the headkerchief was wound, and had a very rich appearance, the diamonds being so near together, that the interstices only served, like the red gold in which the stones were set, to heighten their brilliancy. At a little distance, the crown seemed like one heap of diamonds.

When this lady referred to her heart’s trouble, tears rolled down her cheeks; and I do not think there was one lady or slave present whose eyes were not suffused with tears; one especially interested me, for she was quite unlike any Eastern I have seen, having the complexion and the auburn hair and eyes of the pretty Irish. She manifested by the expression of her countenance more distress than her companions. I imagined she was one of her master’s wives; for she was attended by her nurse carrying her child (an exquisite little cherub) and several slaves. She did not, however, sit on the divan by “HÁnum,” or the chief lady.

The mothers here exceedingly fear the evil or envious eye; and it is quite necessary, when an infant or young child appears, to exclaim, “MÁshÁllÁh,” and to refrain from remarking its appearance; it is also important to invoke for it the protection and blessing of God; and having done so by repeating the expressive phrases used on such occasions in Eastern countries by Christians as well as Muslims, the parents are happy that their children have been introduced to the notice of those who put their trust in God.

The apartments of this hareem are situated in a large garden; and the interior decorations are like those of most Turkish palaces in this country. The walls are painted in compartments, and adorned with ill-executed landscapes, representing villas and pleasure-grounds.

I once told you that in all the hareems I had seen, the chief lady was the only wife: I can no longer make such a boast; but look and wonder, as an Englishwoman, how harmony can exist where the affection of the husband is shared by —— I do not like to say how many wives.

Hareem-gardens are never agreeable places of resort in or near a town; for the walls are so high that there is no free circulation of air, and the trellises for the support of vines over the walks are really roofs, necessary certainly at noon-day under a nearly vertical sun, but excluding the only refreshing morning and evening air.

I was surprised, during my second visit to the hareem of Habeeb Effendi, to find the ladies (whom I had not seen for a long time on account of the late plague) immersed in politics, and painfully anxious on account of the difference of opinion which has arisen between the Emperor of Russia and their cousin the SultÁn. They earnestly inquired whether England would espouse the cause of Turkey, and were in some measure comforted by a reference to the friendship which England had so warmly manifested for the young SultÁn, and the active measures which our government had adopted for the re-establishment of his rule in Syria. I find the feeling very strong in favour of England in the hareems; and I conclude that I hear general opinions echoed there. I judge not only from the remarks I hear, but from the honourable manner in which I am treated; and the reception, entertainment, and farewell I experience are in every respect highly flattering.

I told you of the great politeness that was shown me on the occasion of my first visit to the royal ladies I have just mentioned. On my second visit to them I was almost perplexed by the honour with which they distinguished me; for the chief lady resigned her own place, and seated herself below me. I was obliged to comply with her desire; but did so with much reluctance.

I saw nothing that I need describe, in the way of dress or ornament, on this occasion, excepting the girdle of the elder daughter. This was a broad band, of some dull material of a pale-gray colour, embroidered with small white beads, which composed an Arabic sentence, and having a most splendid diamond clasp, in the form of two shells, somewhat wider than the belt. There was another visitor present, who by her title and appearance I saw to be a lady of very high rank; and if the Turks, as some people say, admire fat women, she must be considered a prodigious beauty. I have seldom, if ever, seen a larger person.

One of the most beautiful women I have seen in Egypt is the wife of a celebrated poet. I love to look on a pretty face, and hers is especially sweet. Her manners, too, are charming; her welcome on my introduction was particularly cordial, and her request that I would pay her a long visit was made with evident sincerity of kindness. With the exception of her diamond crown, her dress was simple, and her whole demeanour free from affectation; I should imagine her character is a source of cheerful contentment to her husband and her children. You will forgive my national pride and prejudice when I say she reminded me of an Englishwoman.

The house of this lady’s family is of the old Arab description, and is situated on the margin of a lake in the outskirts of the city, surrounded by excellent and very picturesque houses, having on the ground-floors, courts roofed with trellises, supported by pillars, and other fanciful wood-work, and covered with jasmines and vines. In these the male inhabitants spend their pastime or idle hours, looking on the water. The upper floors are furnished with meshrebeeyehs (the projecting windows I have described to you) overlooking the lake.

From visits I turn to visitors; to tell you that a most unwelcome guest made his appearance yesterday. Between the blind and glass of a window in the room where we usually sit, I discovered a large snake, more than a yard and a half long. It was outside the window; but directly it saw me through the glass, it raised its head, and protruded its black forked tongue. It was of a light-brown colour, and down the centre of its back its scales were of a bright yellowish hue. It was in such a situation that it was scarcely possible to catch it, and indeed my brother was the only man in the house who would attempt to do so; for our servants were so overcome by superstitious dread, that they would not approach the intruder, and one of the men dared not even look at it: we were therefore unwilling he should touch it, and persuaded him to send for a snake-charmer.

There was a considerable difficulty in finding at such a moment, a man of this profession, although Cairo abounds with them. At length a poor old man arrived, who was nearly blind, and mistook a towel (which was pressed between the sashes to prevent the creature entering) for the object of my dread. He addressed it with much courtesy, saying “O Blessed!” several times, which expressed an invitation: to this, however, the snake turned a deaf ear; and twining itself dexterously through the trellis blind, it curled into a window in the court, and was entirely lost. We certainly would rather it had been found, although assured it could only be, from our description, a harmless house-snake.

You have doubtless read many accounts of the feats of Eastern snake-charmers, and wondered at their skill. Very lately, a friend of ours witnessed an instance of the fascination, or rather attraction, possessed by one of these people. He was in the house of an acquaintance when the charmer arrived, who, after a little whistling, and other absurd preliminaries, invoked the snake thus: “I conjure thee, by our Lord SuleymÁn” (that is, Solomon, the son of David), “who ruled over mankind and the JÁn” (or Genii); “if thou be obedient, come to me; and if thou be disobedient, do not hurt me!” After a short pause, a snake descended from a crevice in the wall of the room, and approached the man, who secured it. No other snake appearing, it was decided that the house was cleared, and our friend requested the snake-charmer to accompany him to his own house. He did so, and invoked the snakes in the same words. The invocation was attended by the same result: a snake descended, and in the same manner resigned itself to the serpent-charmer.

With regard to the serpent still in our house, let us say, with the Muslims, we are thankful it is not a scorpion. Their philosophy is a lesson to us.

Several poor neighbours have lately been stung by scorpions: we sent them some carbonate of ammonia to apply to the wounds, and it was the means of producing the happiest results.

Cairo, with its many ruined houses, affords innumerable nests for noxious reptiles; and the progress of its decay has lately been so rapid, that at last a proclamation has been issued by the Pasha for extensive alterations and repairs throughout the city. The houses are to be whitewashed within and without; those who inhabit ruined houses are to repair or sell them; and uninhabited dwellings are to be pulled down for the purpose of forming squares and gardens; meshrebeeyehs are forbidden, and mastabahs are to be removed. Cairo, therefore, will no longer be an Arab city, and will no longer possess those peculiarities which render it so picturesque and attractive. The deep shade in the narrow streets, increased by the projecting windows—the picturesque tradesman, sitting with one friend or more before his shop, enjoying the space afforded by his mastabah—these will be no more; and while I cannot but acknowledge the great necessity for repairing the city, and removing the ruins which threaten the destruction of passengers, I should have liked those features retained which are essentially characteristic—which help, as it were, to group the people, and form such admirable accessories to pictures.

I must add to this letter an account of a shameful and very ridiculous imposition which was practised upon us a fortnight ago. A poor old man who had for some time filled the situation of doorkeeper to our quarter, had long been ill, and had been assisted by several gentlemen in procuring some necessary comforts. One day my brother received a letter from the Sheykh of the quarter, telling him that poor Mohammad the doorkeeper had received mercy at the sixth hour of the preceding night, and expressing a hope that he would give them the price of his shroud. My brother, accordingly, sent one of his servants to the house of Mohammad, where he found his body laid out, a washer of the dead attending, and his wife apparently in great distress on account of her loss. She returned the most grateful acknowledgments for the bounty which was sent to aid in enabling her to bury her poor husband; and after a while the affair passed from our recollection (we never having seen the poor man), or if remembered, it was only to inquire who would supply his place.

The old woman removed to another house a few days after; and a maid-servant of ours, on passing by chance her new dwelling, was surprised to the last degree to see the late doorkeeper sitting within its threshold. “What,” exclaimed she, “my uncle Mohammad alive, and well!” “Praise be to God,” he answered, “I am well, and have lived on the bounty of your master, the Efendee; but, by your life, my daughter, do not tell him that I am alive.” The old man, I should here tell you, is no relation of the maid’s; this being one of the usual modes of address among the lower orders. The maid promised his existence should continue a secret; but she found on her return home it was impossible to keep her word, and the quarrel which ensued between her and the servant who conveyed the money for the shroud (both believing their own eyes) was as violent as that between HÁroon Er-Rasheed and his wife Zubeydeh, or rather that between their two emissaries, on the subject of Abu-l-Hasan the wag.