I have written you three letters from Damascus—I think, indeed, whenever I had an opportunity; knowing that merchant-vessels went backwards and forwards from this coast to Malta, I thought it possible that if the captains could speak—for they are great newsmongers—all the reports in this country would be taken there, and alarm you for my safety. I am now referring to the one about the approach of the Wahabees upon Damascus, which obliged me to write you a hasty letter, which perhaps you never received. I wrote another after it to say the Wahabees had not been heard of in that quarter, as was expected. Previous to both these letters, I sent you a bag containing letters for England.
I have been obliged to give up my long intended journey to Palmyra for the present: for the pasha would send me, and the Arabs would take me, and there was such a fuss about it altogether, that it would not have been prudent to have undertaken it from Damascus. I now can account why the pasha’s man, into whose hands I was to be consigned, would take 1000 men, because the Arab chief had threatened to cut off his beard, and strip all his people naked, if he took me at all; the honour, the Arab said, should be his, as the desert was his. In the spring, however, we mean to try it again, and hope to succeed.
When B. was nursing Mr. Barker, who had a fever, I made an experiment upon the good faith of the Arabs; I went with the great chief, Mahanna El Fadel (who commands 40,000 men) into the desert for a week, and marched three days with their encampment. I was treated with the greatest respect and hospitality, and it was, perhaps, altogether, the most curious sight I ever saw: horses and mares fed upon camels’ milk, Arabs living upon little else, except a little rice, and sometimes a sort of bread; the space around me covered with living things, 1,000 camels coming to water from one tribe only; the old poets from the banks of the Euphrates, singing the praises and the feats of ancient heroes; children quite naked; women with lips dyed light-blue, and their nails red, and hands all over flowers and designs of different kinds; a chief who is obeyed like a great king—starvation and pride so mixed, that I really could not have had an idea of it: even the clothes I presented the sons of Mahanna they could not carry, or indeed hold, but called a black slave to take them. However, I have every reason to be perfectly contented with their conduct towards me, and I am the queen with them all.
The Wahabees, I find, are at least 40,000 strong, and many more when joined by other Arabs, enough to overthrow the Ottoman empire. If Mahomet Ali drives them from Mecca, they will come down upon Syria, and then take refuge again in the desert; and what troops are to follow them? I thought my horse did great things to come a long three days’ journey without water; and to carry water for cavalry would be impossible, I should imagine. In short, I fear we shall hear much of these Wahabees hereafter.
So you wish to be once more in a field of battle?—this is like a true soldier, who, I believe, is never happy out of it.
We came to this place to be near the desert, and to learn a little of what is going on there from good authority;—the Arabs being still at war, it is necessary to be aware of their proceedings. Last month the weather was delightful, but of late it has snowed; and so much rain has fallen, that not a house in the place is habitable. Every room is a pond, and there is no communication betwixt one part of the town and the other, from the Orontes having overflowed:—firing very scarce, and everybody very miserable. A village a mile off has been half destroyed, and fifty persons killed, either by the falling-in of the houses, or drowned.
Not long ago, a body of Albanians, by order of the pasha, entered this town, took the governor out of his bed, put him into chains, carried him off, and seized all his property, and also every fine horse they could lay their hands upon. A very showy horse Suliman Pasha of Acre had given me, I had given to the doctor, and it was waiting for him before the door of a public bath; the Albanians were marching off with that also, although told it belonged to a Frank, not a Turk. One, however, asked, is the Frank one of the queen’s people? Upon being answered in the affirmative, he said, “Take the horse to the stable, I shall not touch it, but some of our people may, not knowing to whom it belongs.” What I have before told you about myself, I know, my dear General, looks like conceit, but it is true; and it is something to have one’s people and things respected at a moment when no legislative power exists in a place, and every one is in fear and trembling.
As soon as the weather mends, Mulla Ismael, the powerful Delibash, will return from Damascus; the pasha sent him to collect the miri in Palestine, for he was afraid to go himself. Mulla Ismael is a great friend of mine, and I shall go out to meet him in the Turkish way: it will be a compliment to him, and besides make me personally known to those of his troops who have not seen me before. He is a very jolly Turk, and has four wives here, and I believe fifty women—so many that I cannot count them: they are all very good to me, and less shut up than any women I ever saw in this country. No Pasha has ever yet succeeded in cutting off this man’s head, though many have tried; but he is too powerful, and the Arabs are too fond of him. He has taken refuge amongst them twice, and he now feeds every Arab who comes into Hamah, as a mark of his gratitude.
B. is in very good health, and means to write to you; the doctor is curing Arab chiefs somewhere about Palmyra. After the experiment I made in going alone amongst these people, I thought I might safely send him, which I did with a single Arab, who was to put him into the hands of my powerful friend, Mahanna El Fadel. He went very safe, and was extremely well treated the last time I heard: but Mahanna told him that if B. attempted to come into the desert, unless with me, he would cut off the heads of those who brought him before his eyes.
Adieu, my dear General, and believe me,