Four patriarchs had now died within the last six years. Agapius, after ruling his flock for twenty years, was succeeded by Athanasius, who died, as has been mentioned, at Mar Elias, a week or two before Lady Hester took possession of that residence. He was succeeded by Ignatius, who was murdered by a band of Greeks, set on by the heads of the Greek church in and about the mountain, on account of his exertions in converting the Greeks to the Catholic persuasion. The death of the last has been just related. This rapid succession had, it was thought, repressed the ambition of some of the bishops: and it was the belief of many that both Athanasius and Macarius had died of slow poison. In consequence of this surmise, I was mysteriously questioned by many persons as to the appearances I had discovered in opening the body.
Amongst those spoken of as likely to succeed to the vacant dignity was Abûna (Father) Saba, now superior of the monastery of Dayr Mkhallas. He had been educated at Rome, where he remained ten years, and was well versed in theology and intrigue; speaking Italian like a native, and reputed of much learning in his own tongue. He was of a remarkable vivacity, most simple in his habits, and of very entertaining discourse: so that Mâlem Häym, the banker of Acre, would often invite him to that city in order to enjoy his society. It is true that a patriarch must be chosen from the synod of bishops, and Saba was only a priest: but it was thought that he would be preferred to a see, and forthwith created head of the church.
To the astonishment of all persons, an obscure and aged curate, an octogenarian, was selected. For party disputes had run extremely high, and the synod not agreeing on any of those who were nominated, it was thought best to elect one who could not remain long; whilst, in the interim, each party would have time to strengthen its separate interests against a succeeding contest.
On the 27th of November, Signor Volpi left us. About this time Mr. William Bankes, an English gentleman, was reported to be on his way from Egypt to Syria: and, as Lady Hester was well acquainted with him, she wrote to St. Jean d’Acre to secure a proper reception for him. Winter now had set in; we had returned to Abra for many weeks. The evenings generally were spent by Lady Hester in listening to me, who read to her, or in regulating the management of her household and stables, the whole of which she took entirely on herself.
On the 5th of December, a lady, the daughter of Mâlem Dubány, my nearest neighbour, died in childbirth. Although her danger was evident to her husband and family for many hours previous to her decease, no inducement could persuade them to call in a physician or surgeon; for the Mahometans are so averse to the interference of men in cases of midwifery, that a Christian, even if he were so inclined, dares not oppose the reigning prejudice. I ought, however, to remark, that this is the only case of death in labour that came to my knowledge during two years that I resided near Sayda.
A cottage, in one of the gardens of Sayda, was fitted up against the approach of spring for Lady Hester, in order that she might occasionally ride down to spend the day. It belonged to a Turk, named Derwish el Seghýr,[89] who was endowed with sagacity enough to see that the way to get well paid was to give satisfaction to his employer. Hence he neglected no means of pleasing her ladyship: and the unremitting attention of this man to her confirmed her in the dislike she had long since conceived to the Christians of the country, whom she treated with open contempt. This cottage was an extremely pleasing retreat: before the door was a row of bananas, and some tall trees threw a delicious shade around it.
A lad, about twelve years old, had been sent to Lady Hester as an object of charity; and as he spoke Italian very well, he was given to me for my servant. His story was—that his brother had been forced to embrace the Mahometan religion; and that he, to avoid the same fate, had been secretly sent away from Cairo, his native place. His name was Mûsa. On arriving in Syria, he had been kept for some months in the monastery of the Franciscans at Jerusalem, where he had become apparently a very pious youth.
There had been no rain up to the 22nd of December, since the month of May, with the exception of one shower; consequently the drought, in some parts, was very distressing. The first symptom was in the unusual appearance of immense flights of birds, in Arabic kuttâ. The flocks in which they came were truly terrific, covering the sun like a black cloud. This unusual state of the weather called forth many ejaculations from the mouths of the Mahometans as they walked the streets, and a fast of three days was instituted for averting the evils which a continuance of it must bring on.
I had procured for Shaykh Ibrahim a copy of the gospels; also the Psalms of David, and the miracles of St. Athanasius, all printed in Arabic on Mount Lebanon. These I forwarded to him about this time, and in return he sent me a ring, with my name engraved on it in Arabic characters: but here our correspondence dropped until his death.
A person in the country, having got into his possession a certain cure for the rheumatism, was at a loss how to use it. Being unable to get the directions, which were in English, translated into Arabic, he applied at last to me; and I found that he had obtained from the master of a merchantman “Whitehead’s essence of mustard.” He was astonished, when, at the bottom of my translation, (relying on Dr. Paris’s assertion) I added an N.B.—that there was not an atom of mustard in the preparation: the delusion would have proved more agreeable to him than the truth.