These measures, purposely made public among the servants, and repeated by the master of the house to his friends in the city, were construed into demonstrations of her esteem for the Turks, and contributed not a little to her popularity.
In the mean time, after resting herself a day or two, she prepared to ride out. No sooner were the horses brought to the door, than a crowd of women and children assembled; the gravity of the male part of the Turkish population seldom yielding so far to curiosity, as to allow them to join in a mob. When she came out, as she stood upon the horse-block, (of which there generally is one at the entrance of most houses) a smile on the people around served at once to prepossess them in her favour. She was accompanied by no one, but her young interpreter, Giorgio, and Mohammed, her Janissary, thus throwing herself entirely on the discretion of the inhabitants. Her first excursion naturally gave us some uneasiness; but it was without foundation. A grave, yet pleasing look, an unembarrassed, yet commanding, demeanour met the ideas of the Turks, whose manners are of this cast. We were, however, somewhat diverted by the different reports which were spread respecting her among them. It was generally supposed, from her fair complexion, that she painted white: and it was confidently affirmed, as her appearance was so little European, that, although by birth an Englishwoman, she was of Ottoman descent, and had Mahometan blood in her veins.
The Turkish feast of Ramazán was now celebrating, during which Mahometans are accustomed to fast from sunrise to sunset for the space of a whole moon. Little business, excepting what is unavoidable, is transacted all this time. The day is beguiled as much as possible in sleep, by which the cravings of appetite and the desire for drink are considerably deadened. The first half of the night is devoted to feasting and visits.
Lady Hester was anxious to be presented to the pasha as soon as possible, and an early evening was fixed on. Previous to it, she signified to the Jews, brothers of him of Acre, her intention to visit them. They filled at the court of Damascus, as has been said, the post of seràfs, which word signifies bankers or money-changers, but embraces a more comprehensive meaning. The wealth of this family was enormous, and the house they lived in was not inferior to any one in the city: its exterior, however, was mean in appearance, and gave no idea of the magnificence within. All the houses in Damascus are built of clay, beat up with chopped straw, and made into a composition,[2] which, when dried in the sun, becomes very tenacious. Houses so built have, externally, a mean appearance; and as the Jews throughout Turkey are odious to the natives, they are compelled, from policy, to give to the quarter in which they reside a dirtiness of appearance that shall not rouse the over-sensitive jealousy of their masters. Accordingly, on entering the Jews’ quarter at Damascus, the organs of smell and sight are much incommoded, and any thing but architectural beauty or cleanliness is found in it. Haym’s street-door opened, and we went down two or three steps into a stone entry about fifteen or twenty feet square, to the left of which was a dirty alcove, with a carpet on the floor, and cushions against the wall, and opposite to it a small filthy room. A staircase led from this court to two rooms above, of the same description. Any stranger, but particularly a Turk, enters thus far, and, whether he comes for the business of a moment or for a few days, it is here the master of the house sees him, and it is here that his meals are brought to him.
Opposite to the front door was another which opened by a crooked entry into the first grand court of the house, so that nobody from the strangers’ court could see into this, even if the door was ajar. Here began to be displayed the wealth of the proprietor. The court was spacious, and in the centre was a large basin, into which water spouted and gave coolness to the surrounding apartments, which were numerous. A large one on the left was covered with a rich Persian carpet, and the cushions of the sofas, which ran round the three sides, were of Damascus satins. On the right was a smaller one, more magnificent, but on the same plan. We entered only those two in the first court.
A passage led into a second court, the pavement of which was inlaid with marble mosaic, and in the centre was a basin with a fountain. Round it were numerous apartments; and these were destined for the harým; nor should I have enjoyed the privilege of seeing them (as no men enter here) had I not accompanied her ladyship, who, as a female, was necessarily conducted to them. Nothing could equal the magnificence of these rooms, two of which, at the extremity, were peculiarly beautiful, and between them was an alcove, which is inseparable from the houses of the Levantines, and which is no other than a saloon with three sides to it, the fourth side, fronting the court, being entirely open to the air, with an arch thrown over it. All these apartments had the walls painted and gilded in arabesque, and none of the ceilings were plain, but painted in stars, in lozenges, or in some diagram or device.
Neither in the first nor the second court was there an upper story, excepting over one room, where all the splendour of which the other apartments partake is united. We ascended to it by stone stairs, from the court, on the outside, in the open air, and, as is the case with all the staircases throughout Syria, it was steep and inelegant. On entering this âléah (so an upper room is called, and so the word signifies) the eye was struck with the glitter of the walls and ceiling, resembling the descriptions of fairy palaces. Mock precious stones, mirrors, gilding, and arabesque paintings, covered it every where, and the floor was of elegant mosaic. The pipes with their amber heads; the coffee-cups, with a gold stud at the bottom, on which ambergris was stuck to perfume this beverage as it dissolved in it; the embroidered napkins to wipe the mouth with; and the brilliant colours and high flavour of the sherbets corresponded with the grandeur of the house. But how shall we reconcile to all this the dishes served up on tinned copper, and set on a table of the same metal? This anomaly will be explained in another place.
But the interview with the Pasha himself was the ceremony most talked of. I did not accompany her ladyship on this occasion, owing to a temporary indisposition. Sayd Suliman Pasha had spent his life at the court of Sultan Selim and his predecessors, and was considered as a finished gentleman Turk. It must indeed have been a formidable undertaking to a woman, when, after being led through antechambers by the light of flaring candles, which threw their gleam on the arms of numerous soldiers and attendants, who waited in still and fearful silence, she was ushered into a long saloon, through two rows of the pasha’s suite, where at the upper end sat—and he alone was sitting—on a crimson sofa, in a most starched attitude, the small but dignified man. He rose not to receive her, and by a motion of his hand signified to her to sit. M. Bertrand, the dragoman, stood by her side, and by the side of the pasha stood the Jew Rafäel. M. Bertrand trembled so much that his tongue faltered when he interpreted the pasha’s first salutations, nor was he for some time sufficiently collected to repeat with precision what was said to him. Lady Hester was not at all disconcerted. Her interpreter, Giorgio, whom she had ordered to attend her to observe if her answers were correctly translated, was prevented from entering the presence-chamber because he wore arms: it being as ill-bred to pay visits of ceremony in Turkey with arms on, as in England to wear boots on a similar occasion. After a reasonable time, Lady Hester retired, having first begged the pasha to accept of a handsome snuff-box. In return a beautiful Arabian horse was led to her door after the visit was over; and the bearers of the presents received from the respective parties money of about a quarter the value of the gifts.
On her return home from this visit, her janissary, Hadj Mohammed el Ludkány, whilst standing before her to receive her orders for the morrow, said, “Your ladyship’s reception was very grand;” and upon her replying, “Yes, but this is all vanity,” he remarked, “Oh! khanum” (or my lady), “you carry the splendour of royalty on your forehead, with the humility of a dervise at your heart.”
Lady Hester scarcely found time to write to her friends an account of her adventures; but we may extract from a letter, already published in a periodical work, a few anecdotes, as related in her own words.