I have been but too much flattered by the goodness with which you were pleased to look on the liberty I have already taken: it is a proof of your greatness as well as of your condescension. Dr. M. has made up his mind to present himself to your highness; but perhaps, on a first visit, he will not say what I will presume to do.

In the first place, the air of the spot where chance has put you is bad. There is danger of getting a fever, unless you wrap yourself up well as the evening closes in, and take, in going to bed, a little brandy and water, with sugar in it, instead of cooling things: but what is best of all is a little rum, to prevent the circulation from becoming languid from the damp, and to keep up perspiration. Medical books say nothing of this, nor, generally speaking, have doctors much knowledge about it: but I have acquired my information from people who have never been attacked with fever, although often exposed, from their occupations, to sun and fatigue. The Germans (who, according to the traditions of the ancient Arabians, are of exceeding high race), like the kings, their ancestors, are not brought up idlers: therefore, it seems much more reasonable to infer that, if they follow the practice of the laborious, it will suit them better than the system pursued by indolent beings, who lead a kind of false existence, and whose complaints are often imaginary or the consequence of their own prejudices. In fevers of the country one cannot drink too much of cooling things, or of cold water: for if, during one or two days previous to trying any remedies intended to excite the circulation, refreshing beverages are not given, internal inflammation comes on, which carries off a man in a few hours. Bleeding is almost never to be feared in this country.

Pardon me for having thus made myself a doctor; but it is necessary that your highness should have some insight into what is most necessary to observe in a climate which is a very wholesome one, if a person knows how to accustom himself to it.

H. L. Stanhope.


The letter being sent off, I mounted, and rode down with the view of presenting myself to the prince. I have already described the Shemaôony, where he was encamped, as a vaulted building covering the tombs of some pashas of former days, and having an arcade of about thirty feet square, where devout pilgrims, who visited the tombs, might pray, eat, and sleep. The sand of the seashore reaches to its base, and behind is a lane running through gardens, overshadowed with sycamores, eastern lilac trees, vines, banana plants, orange-trees, &c. The prince’s tents were fixed some in front and some in rear of the building, and the platform of the arcade was given up to the servants. The quarantine guards had their tents in the foreground, at a convenient distance, and sentries at the four angles prescribed the bounds out of which the travellers were not to stir, and within which nobody from without was to intrude.

As soon as I alighted from my horse, Baron de Busech made his appearance, and, advancing to the boundary, told me the prince was gone with Khosrô Effendi, the government secretary, and a file of soldiers, to look at a villa not far off, where, if possible, he might be somewhat better accommodated than in the broiling spot they were then occupying. The baron took the opportunity of the duke’s absence to inform me of the state of his own health. He was suffering from an indisposition, light, indeed, but alarming in his present situation. The history of the party was as follows:—

The Duke of Bavaria, prince of the blood royal, and brother-in-law to the reigning monarch, a young man, in size and appearance something like the Duke of Orleans, had left Europe for Egypt, had crossed the desert to Syria, and had visited Jerusalem. The plague was in the holy city; and on quitting it for Nazareth, the duke’s physician, a German of six and twenty, fell ill and died in two or three days, whilst at the same time a negro, the duke’s Mameluke, was attacked with symptoms similar to those that had carried off the doctor. The duke and his suite quitted Nazareth precipitately, and the monks of the monastery there caused the effects of the deceased to be burnt, considering his case one of plague. On reaching Sayda, the party, having a foul bill of health, were stopped, and put under quarantine. It consisted of his Royal Highness Duke Maximilian; of Charles Baron de Busech, and his brother, Baron Frederick; of the Count Wilsensheim, one of his Imperial Majesty’s chamberlains, and consul-general from his Holiness the Pope at Ancona; of the Chevalier Heusler; Captain Heugler of the Bavarian guards; Mr. Meyer, painter; Mr. Petzmeyer, an accomplished musician; with servants, to the number of fifteen or sixteen persons.

In about half an hour the duke arrived, and with great condescension conversed with me for some time. He was much annoyed at the awkward situation in which he found himself, expressed great obligations to Lady Hester, and begged me to do what I could for the baron’s complaint. The interview over, I remounted my horse, and returned to Jôon, to send down medicines, and to give Lady Hester an account of my visit.

Tuesday, May 29.—I went down again. This time I was called upon to decide whether the duke’s black Mameluke had the plague or not. It may be conceived what agitation the duke himself was in; for, if the case was one of plague, in addition to the danger he ran of being himself infected, he would be subjected, perhaps, to a month’s quarantine. I had not been able to see the black on my previous visit; for he was in a tent behind the building; and, being too weak to walk to where I was, none of the servants were willing to lead him. A Turk, therefore, was hired for a pecuniary compensation to attend on him,[26] and he now led him, tottering and debilitated by sickness, to the exterior of the tents, under some trees, where a tent was fixed for him. There the poor fellow could lie and inhale the breezes of that blue sea, over which he never was to sail again; there he might have the view of travellers passing and repassing, and, if his thoughts were not disturbed by delirium, might find some solace from the novelty of the scene.