This was the fact; but they came to her because she would have it so. Many a morning have I seen her cutting out gowns and pantaloons for them, and stitching the parts together with her own hands. Her talents were so versatile, that she always seemed to have served her time to the particular work, whatever it might be, in which you chanced to find her engaged. I have in my possession patterns, in paper, of gowns after the Turkish fashion, cut out by Lady Hester’s hand; and if any of the travellers who visited her may have had occasion to admire the dresses of her men or maid servants, they may be assured that, even down to the embroidery, the models for every one of them were first designed and cut out by their accomplished mistress.
Lady Hester Stanhope had another serious reason to be discontented with her servants. Her inner court, the gynœcium or harým, was separated from the outer one by a door, always, or which always ought to have been, kept locked. The key was entrusted to one of the two men-servants who lived in this inner court, but whose rooms were divided from the wing where the maids were by a screen of wainscoting, which neither party was allowed to pass. That was the rule, but the practice was far otherwise, and the men were constantly haunting the maids’ rooms and the kitchen with perfect security; because the locked door, at which everybody was obliged to knock to get admission, gave them time to arrange their matters so as to escape detection. Lady Hester herself was generally in bed, and perfectly incapable of checking their irregularities. It was not, therefore, to be wondered at, if, every now and then, the sad consequences were not slow in manifesting themselves. For in Turkey, where men are never allowed to associate with women—where the face of a female, even of the lowest class, cannot be uncovered before the other sex without a stain attaching to her modesty, and sometimes to her character—the idea of placing the two sexes in familiar juxtaposition is so foreign to all their notions, that both the one and the other, when such occasions present themselves, fancy all reserve is at an end, and use their opportunities accordingly. Chastity, in our sense of the word, social and moral, is perhaps unknown among Mahometans. The woman who is well guarded, or the maiden who lives strictly under her mother’s wing, is kept chaste; but she who is neglected thinks that there is no longer any reason for restraint, or believes, at all events, that she does no great wrong in thinking so.
Lady Hester, no doubt, knew all this better than any one; but there was no remedy. She did not feel sure of the good conduct of one single maid-servant. As long as Miss Williams was alive, the awe they all stood in of her made things go on with propriety; but, after her death, all these disorders crept in. One of the very European men-servants whom Lady Hester kept as a check on the people of the country, set them a profligate example himself, and then sought a pretext for leaving her service. In another instance, a black slave was found to have formed an illicit connection with a black man. Lady Hester Stanhope obliged the man to marry her, and gave them both their freedom. Her ladyship did not visit these untoward events with severity. Only, as it is a common practice in Turkey to procure abortion, and as there is no notice taken of such things by the public authorities, who often set the example openly in their own harýms, all that Lady Hester ever did in these cases was to call the offenders before her, and tell them she would have them hanged if they resorted to any secret means of that kind: and she was a person to be as good as her word. Her views in such matters were lenient and compassionate in reference to the circumstances in which these unfortunate creatures were often placed; but there was nothing she held in such utter detestation as mere animal vices.
It was naturally Lady Hester’s object to enlist me on her side into her plan of keeping her household regulated according to the rules of the strictest decorum; and I of course was most happy to lend my assistance. Previous to my arrival, I had been, both now and on my former visit in 1831, held up as a bugbear to all the servants, and the common exclamation in her mouth was—“Ah! when the doctor comes, he will very soon set you to rights.” But I was not at all, either from temperament or reflection, ambitious of filling a post of that sort; and, although she turned against me at different times the shafts of ridicule, and a never-ceasing battery of abuse, I passively but firmly declined all participation in the severity of her measures.
Sunday, July 23.—I rode over to Mar Elias, and returned again to the Dar on Monday night.
July 24.—Lady Hester Stanhope took a great deal of pains to make me acquainted with all that was going on both in the house and in the neighbourhood: still she never touched on the property left, or said to be left her; and it was not until August the 3rd that the subject was fairly entered upon. But, as what she communicated then will come in more appropriately when the correspondence which took place in reference to it shall be given, we will proceed to other matters.
August 4.—“The people of Europe,” said Lady Hester, “are all, or at least the greater part of them, fools, with their ridiculous grins, their affected ways, and their senseless habits. In all the parties I was in during the time I lived with Mr. Pitt—and they were a great many—out of thousands of people, I hardly saw ten whose conversation interested me. I smiled when they spoke to me, and passed on; but they left no agreeable impressions on my mind.
“Look at Monsieur *********, getting off his horse half a dozen times to kiss his dog, and take him out of his bandbox to feed him on the road from Beyrout here: the very muleteers and servants thought him a fool. And then, that way of thrusting his hands in his breeches-pockets, sticking out his legs as far as he could—what is that like?
“Monsieur —— is no poet, in my estimation, although he may be an elegant versifier: he has no sublime ideas. Compare his ideas with Shakspeare’s—that was indeed a real poet. Oh, doctor, what inspirations there are in that man! Even his imaginary beings—his Ariels, his fairies, his Calibans—we see at once are such as they would be if they had really existed. You don’t believe in such things, but I do, and so did Shakspeare: he, I am sure, had great knowledge of Eastern literature, somehow or other.
“Monsieur ——, with his straight body and straight fingers, pointed his toes in my face, and then turned to his dog and kissed him, and held long conversations with him. They say he has £17,000 a year, and castles and villages. He thought to make a great effect when he was here, but he was grievously mistaken. I gave him a letter to Abu Ghosh, who received him very well; but when he talked about himself, and made out that he was a great man, Abu Ghosh said it was for my sake, and not for his own, that he showed him as much honour as he could.”