Letters from Egypt by Lucy Duff Gordon (management books to read .txt) 📕

the Nile, and I sat with his wife--a very nice Turkish woman who speaks English to perfection--and heard all sorts of curious things. I heard the whole story of an unhappy marriage made by Leyla, my hostess's sister, and much Cairo gossip. Like all Eastern ladies that I have seen she complains of indigestion, and said she knew she ought to go out more and to walk, but custom _e contra il nostro decoro_.

Mr. Thayer will be back in Egypt on December 15, so I shall embark about that time, as he may want his house here. It is now a little fresh in the early morning, but like fine English summer weather.

_Tuesday_.--Since I have been here my cough is nearly gone, and I am better for having good food again. Omar manages to get good mutton, and I have discovered that some of the Nile fish is excellent. The _abyad_, six or eight feet long and very fat, is delicious, and I am told there are still better; the eels are delicate and good too. Maurice might hook an _abyad_, but how would he land him? The worst is that everything is just double the price of last year, as, of course, no beef can be eaten at all, and the draught oxen being dead makes labour dear as well. The high Nile was a small misfortune compared to the murrain. There is a legend about it, of course. A certain Sheykh el-Beled (burgomaster) of some place--not mentioned--lost his cattle, and being rich defied God, said he did not care, and bought as many more; they died too, and he continued impenitent and defiant, and bought on till he was ruined, and now he is sinking into the earth bodily, though his friends dig and dig without ceasing night and day. It is curious how like the German legends the Arab ones are. All those about wasting bread wantonly are almost identical. If a bit is dirty, Omar carefully gives it to the dog; if clean, he keeps it in a drawer for making breadcrumbs for cutlets; not a bit must fall on the floor. In other things they are careless enough, but _das liebe Brod_ is sacred--_vide_ Grimm's _Deutsche Sagen_. I am constantly struck with resemblances to German customs. A Fellah wedding is very like the German _Bauern hochzeit_ firing of guns and display of household goods, only on a camel instead of a cart. I have been trying to get a teacher of Arabic, but it is very hard to find one who knows any European language, and the consular dragoman asks four dollars a lesson. I must wait till I get to Thebes, where I think a certain young Said can teach me. Meanwhile I am beginning to understand rather more and to speak a very little. Please direct to me to Briggs and Co. at Cairo; if I am gone, the letters will follow up the river.


December 1, 1863: Mrs. Ross

_To Mrs. Ross_.

CAIRO,
_December_ 1, 1863.

DEAREST JANET,

I should much like to go with Thayer if his times and seasons will suit mine; but I cannot wait indefinitely, still less come down the river before the end of April. But most likely the Pasha will give him a boat. It is getting cold here and I feel my throat sore to-day. I went to see Hassan yesterday, he is much better, but very weak and pale. It is such a nice family--old father, mother, and sister, all well-bred and pleasing like Hassan himself. He almost shrieked at hearing of your fall, and is most anxious to see you when you come here. Zeyneb, after behaving very well for three weeks, has turned quietly sullen and displays great religious intolerance. It would seem that the Berberi men have put it into her head that we are inferior beings, and she pretends not to be able to eat because she thinks everything is pig. Omar's eating the food does not convince her. As she evidently does not like us I will offer her to Mrs. Hekekian Bey, and if she does not do there, in a household of black Mussulman slaves, they must pass her on to a Turkish house. She is very clever and I am sorry, but to keep a sullen face about me is more than I can endure, as I have shown her every possible kindness. I think she despises Omar for his affection towards me. How much easier it is to instil the bad part of religion than the good; it is really a curious phenomenon in so young a child. She waits capitally at table, and can do most things, but she won't move if the fancy takes her except when ordered, and spends her time on the terrace. One thing is that the life is dull for a child, and I think she will be happier in a larger, more bustling house. I don't know whether, after the fearful example of Mrs. B., I can venture to travel up the Nile with such a _seducteur_ as our dear Mr. Thayer. What do you think? Will gray hairs on my side and _mutual_ bad lungs guarantee our international virtue; or will someone ask the Pater when he means to divorce me? Would it be considered that Yankeedoodle had 'stuck a feather in his cap' by leading a British matron and grandmother astray?


December 2, 1863: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon

_To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon_.

CAIRO,
_December_ 2, 1863.

DEAREST ALICK,

It is beginning to be cold here, and I only await the results of my inquiries about possible houses at Thebes to hire a boat and depart. Yesterday I saw a camel go through the eye of a needle--_i.e._, the low arched door of an enclosure; he must kneel and bow his head to creep through--and thus the rich man must humble himself. See how a false translation spoils a good metaphor, and turns a familiar simile into a ferociously communist sentiment. I expect Henry and Janet here in four or five days when her ancle allows her to travel. If I get a house at Thebes, I will only hire a boat up and dismiss it, and trust to Allah for my return. There are rumours of troubles at Jeddah, and a sort of expectation of fighting somewhere next spring; even here people are buying arms to a great extent, I think the gunsmiths' bazaar looks unusually lively. I do look forward to next November and your coming here; I know you would donkey-ride all day in a state of ecstasy. I never saw so good a servant as Omar and such a nice creature, so pleasant and good. When I hear and see what other people spend here in travelling and in living, and what bother they have, I say: 'May God favour Omar and his descendants.'

I stayed in bed yesterday for a cold, and my next-door neighbour, a Coptic merchant, kept me awake all night by auditing his accounts with his clerk. How would you like to chant your rows of figures? He had just bought lots of cotton, and I had to get into my door on Monday over a camel's back, the street being filled with bales.

* * * * *


[The house at Thebes of which my mother speaks in the following letter was built about 1815, over the ancient temple of Khem, by Mr. Salt, English Consul-General in Egypt. He was an archaeologist and a student of hieroglyphics, and when Belzoni landed at Alexandria was struck by his ability, and sent him up to Thebes to superintend the removal of the great bust of Memnon, now in the British Museum. Belzoni, I believe, lived for some time in Mr. Salt's house, which afterwards became the property of the French Government, and was known as the _Maison de France_; it was pulled down in 1884 when the great temple of Luxor was excavated by M. Maspero. My late friend Miss A. B. Edwards wrote a description of his work in the _Illustrated London News_, from which I give a few extracts:


'Squatters settled upon the temple like a swarm of mason bees; and
the extent of the mischief they perpetrated in the course of
centuries may be gathered from the fact that they raised the level of
the surrounding soil to such a height that the obelisks, the colossi,
and the entrance pylon were buried to a depth of 40 feet, while
inside the building the level of the native village was 50 feet above
the original pavement. Seven months ago the first court contained
not only the local mosque, but a labyrinthine maze of mud structures,
numbering some thirty dwellings, and eighty strawsheds, besides
yards, stables, and pigeon-towers, the whole being intersected by
innumerable lanes and passages. Two large mansions--real mansions,
spacious and, in Arab fashion, luxurious,--blocked the great
Colonnade of Horembebi; while the second court, and all the open
spaces and ruined parts of the upper end of the Temple, were
encumbered by sheepfolds, goat-yards, poultry-yards, donkey-sheds,
clusters of mud huts, refuse-heaps, and piles of broken pottery.
Upon the roof of the portico there stood a large, rambling, ruinous
old house, the property of the French Government, and known as the
"Maison de France" . . . Within its walls the illustrious
Champollion and his ally Rosellini lived and worked together in 1829,
during part of their long sojourn at Thebes. Here the naval officers
sent out by the French in 1831 to remove the obelisk which now stands
in the Place de la Concorde took up their temporary quarters. And
here, most interesting to English readers, Lady Duff Gordon lingered
through some of her last winters, and wrote most of her delightful
"Letters from Egypt." A little balcony with a broken veranda and a
bit of lattice-work parapet, juts out above some mud walls at the end
of the building. Upon that balcony she was wont to sit in the cool
of the evening, watching the boats upon the river and the magical
effect of the after-glow upon the Libyan mountains opposite. All
these buildings--"Maison de France," stores, yards, etc. . . . are
all swept away.']



December 17, 1863: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon

_To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon_.

CAIRO,
_December_ 17, 1863.

DEAREST ALICK,

At last I hope I shall get off in a few days. I have had one delay and bother after another, chiefly caused by relying on the fine speeches of Mr. D. On applying straight to the French Consulate at Alexandria, Janet got me the loan of the _Maison de France_ at Thebes at once. M.