wives, and that in England a man can only marry one; but I should like to know who is the greater delinquent, he that avowedly and opening admits of polygamy, or that man, who, as is often the case amongst society in England, and indeed all Europe, vowing solemnly at the altar that “forsaking all others he will keep only with her,” marries one wife, and at the same time continues to associate with half a dozen other women? For my part, whenever I hear of an English lady eloping, I cannot help fearing that she has been driven to it by the inconstancy or neglect of a wicked husband.
In Damascus, at the period I am writing of, there dwelt an extraordinary man, well known to the English who visited the place as the proprietor of a large hotel, by the name of Sayed Ali; he also filled the office of chancellor to the English consulate. This extraordinary character could speak and write several languages with the utmost fluency, and no one could fathom out what countryman he was, or what creed he professed. With the English he was an Englishman, and none could doubt his pronunciation. This was the case with the French; whilst the Turks, listening in admiration to his high flow of Stamboline Turkish, and his profound knowledge of the Koran, ranked him amongst the most devout and most learned of their citizens. One thing only was positive with regard to Sayed Ali, and that was, that his wife was a Moslem, the daughter of some fanatical Sheikh. Sayed’s wife had an extremely handsome sister; who having been seen but once, had captivated the heart of an old English official, who at that time resided at Damascus; and this gentleman, notwithstanding the great disparity between them in every respect, in age, rank and creed, determined, cost what it might, to marry the girl. Female friends were
employed as go-betweens, and these so effectually wrought upon the imagination of the fair lady, that she actually resolved to embrace Christianity, and fly for succour to the arms of her lover. Things had arrived at this pitch, when Sayed Ali accidentally got scent of what was going on; he subsequently declared to me, that had it not been for the high official position of the gentleman in question, he certainly would have shot him; as it was, he contented himself with calling at his sister-in-law’s house, and knocking at the door drew his sword; the girl responding to the knock, opened the door, when the infuriated Sayed Ali made a murderous attack upon her, and inflicted a wound on her shoulder, a repetition of which must have proved fatal. As this happened during the day, the noise attracted a crowd around the house, and the girl was rescued. Rendered desperate by this, Sayed Ali made a plunge at himself, and inflicted a wound in his abdomen of nearly an inch deep; not, however, relishing the sensation, the monster drew out his sword, and calling lustily for aid was forthwith carried away to his own house. Here he was attended by the English medical officers then at Damascus. I shortly after called to see him, and to inquire into the cause of this murderous onslaught. In reply, he told me that his motives were what I have already stated; he was determined that his name should not be defamed, or his wife’s family put to shame by the act of a thoughtless, capricious child, winding up, however, with—
“I’m glad I have not killed her, and for my part I’ll never be such a fool again as to stab myself to please any one in Damascus.”
The doctor dressed the wounds, and both shortly afterwards recovered, whilst the greatest delinquent in
the affair suffered neither pain or inconvenience from his gross misconduct. He is now in high office under the government at Constantinople. This is a fair sample of the abuses practised by many of those in authority, who in lieu of holding out a pattern for imitation, both by example and precept, are unfortunately too prone to indulge their own vicious propensities, setting all propriety, honour, and justice at defiance. I do not mean to say that all incline in the same way—that all are addicted to falling desperately in love with every girl they meet; but this I assert, with very few exceptions, they have their peculiar fancies, for the gratification of which they stoop to many acts of meanness. In illustration of what I say, I may be permitted to quote one more instance,—a case widely different from the foregoing, and yet equally offensive to honourable minds.
“One man, a sycophant, partly to curry favour with a great man whom he wished to oblige, partly to satisfy his avaricious propensities, delayed a steam packet twenty-four hours beyond its fixed time of departure, because the vessel chanced to sail upon a Saturday, and the great man in question was a Jew; he detained the steamer till Sunday morning to accommodate the fastidious Hebrew, and to profit by his commission on the lordly passage money.
“Now this man is professedly a Christian, but he prefers breaking the Christian’s sabbath to inconveniencing his friend or his pocket; but apart from all this, we have still to calculate the losses arising from the expenses incurred by such a vessel lying unnecessarily idle—the risk of insurance, and the loss of time to money, cargo, and letters.” [107]
But let us turn to a more pleasing subject. In these latter days of progression and civilisation, Damascus happily has kept pace with the other towns in Syria; there has been a large influx of European merchants. The Greek patriarch has, in the true spirit of civilization, and after great exertions, established a school which will be productive of much good.
From Damascus we went down to Sidon, visiting, en route, the residence of the late Lady Hester Stanhope, at Djouni, which was even then fast falling to decay. Lady Hester I had known personally, and although clever and eccentric, with a head full of strange fancies, yet she had a heart not devoid of good feeling and kind intentions. For my part, I can always recollect, with grateful pleasure, the kind reception I met with at her house, and if there is any thing which I consider base, it is the conduct of her biographer (who was also her physician), and who has abused a sacred trust to pander to the inquisitiveness of the European world; or else to contribute to the depth and weight of his own purse, has raked up the ashes of one, who at least towards himself, was the best of friends and patronesses; and whether the book contains much of truth or much of imagination, it is either a breach of confidence of the very worst order, or a libel on the dead which there is none to controvert or dispute.