I remember well that on first arriving in England I had a habit of sitting cross-legged on a chair or an ottoman. This position used to amuse my English friends very much, and on one occasion when I detected a number of young ladies laughing among themselves and pointing at me, I anxiously enquired the cause of their merriment, and one of them volunteered to tell me that it was only tailors in this country that resorted to the use of such a droll position. I assured them that in Syria the nobles of the land sat cross-legged; but thanking them for this gentle correction, I ever
after endeavoured to sit as much like an Englishman as I could, a task which I at first found both difficult and disagreeable.
At this time I received intelligence of the death of a very dear friend and relative, and this melancholy news urged on me the necessity of returning to Syria. I accordingly began to make preparations, and was so fortunate as to meet Sir George Otway, who was going up the Mediterranean in command of the “Virago” steamer, and who very kindly gave me a passage as far as Malta.
On board the “Virago” I had the happiness of meeting those amiable noblemen, the Marquis of Worcester and Lord Clarence Paget. We touched at Gibraltar, and were there joined by the bishop of that diocese who was about to pay a visit to Malta. We had a remarkably pleasant voyage out, and on arriving once more at Malta, I immediately occupied myself in preparations for landing, not displeased at the idea of once again visiting that pleasant little island for a few days. In the midst of all this, my attention was suddenly attracted to the constant succession of flags that were being rapidly hauled up and down and changed. I was of course ignorant as to the motives of these signals. In a short time, however, Sir George Otway enlightened me on this subject by informing me with a smile on his countenance, that the “Medea” steam frigate, Captain Warden, with the Lycian expedition, was about to leave for Rhodes, and that he was glad to say he had been successful in procuring me a passage by her. Accordingly, taking a hearty leave of the excellent commander and gallant officers of the “Virago,” and bidding adieu to my noble
fellow-passengers, I was quickly transferred from one vessel to the other.
On the deck of the new steamer I was delighted to recognise the features of my old acquaintance Mr., now Sir Charles Fellowes, who was then proceeding to conduct the expedition to Lycia in Asia Minor. In a few days the steamer landed me at Rhodes. I joined the Austrian boat at that island, and was soon, to my great joy and satisfaction, safely landed at Beyrout.
On joining my old acquaintances, I was much amused at the ridiculous reports in circulation as to the results of my visit to England. Some imagined I had been made a bishop, whilst others stated that I had given myself out as the Prince of Syria, and had persuaded the English government to grant me a fleet to conquer the country. I was frequently asked by the chiefs when I expected the ships to arrive. All concluded that I was thoroughly versed in medicine, as the people of Syria imagine all Europeans, and those who visit that country, to be well acquainted with this science.
After I had been a short time at Beyrout, I went on a visit to the mountains, when a desperate war broke out between the Maronites and the Druses, through the machinations of the priests. The Druses immediately made a desperate attack upon the village of Deyr Al Kamar, where at that time the Emir Kasim was residing at the palace. The village was nearly destroyed, and much blood was shed. The palace was sufficiently strong to resist their attack. The government was so amazed at this outbreak, that the Emir was ordered to go to Beyrout, whence he was sent to Constantinople. I myself remained a short time at Beyrout to arrange some private affairs. This being settled to the
satisfaction of all concerned, I took my passage to Constantinople on board of one of the Austrian steamers, and after a prosperous voyage was duly landed at Stamboul. This was the first time I had ever visited the great Moslem capital; but I came here after having seen and been resident at London, and it consequently had few charms for me, though I must admit, that as seen from the sea in approaching it, I thought Stamboul one of the most lovely spots I had ever set eyes on.
Here I soon joined my old acquaintance the Emir Kasim. The story of this prince is as follows:—