Algiers is an ideal place to look at; at first Richard was delighted with it, and thought he would end his days there, but in about three weeks he began to change his mind, and said nothing would induce him to have "our cottage" there. For myself, I thought it was the dampest, most neuralgic place I ever was in; but it is very beautiful, superior to Trieste in beauty, the town more elevated, and looking like ivory, as Eastern towns do, but yet like Trieste; and the country green, and picturesque with palms. Here we found delightful society—Sir Lambert and Lady Playfair, Count Bathyani, Mrs. Campbell Praed, the Marquise de Beaufort, Lady Clementina and Mr. Mitford, Lord Carbery, Mrs. and Miss Newton, the Rev. Colin Campbell, Colonel Preston, and a very nice and clever Miss Florence Shakespeare Owens, and many other charming people. Here for the second time a huge glass chandelier fell, nearly cutting the table in two just as we had left our places.
Richard was now invited to the Stanley Exhibition.
Daily Chronicle, February 20th.
"Sir Richard Burton and Mr. Stanley.
"Sir Edward Lee, hon. secretary of the Stanley and African Exhibition to be opened at the Victoria Gallery, has received the following letter from Captain Sir Richard F. Burton, the African Explorer, and her Majesty's Consul at Trieste:—
"Hammam R'irha, February 17th, 1890.
"Dear Sir Edward Lee,
"Your kind invitation to be present at the general meeting for the Stanley and African Exhibition has only just reached me, and the direction will explain the cause of delay. I cannot say how great is my regret at being absent on such an occasion. I should have wished at this and at every other opportunity to express my hearty admiration of all that Stanley has dared and done. He is to me, and always will be, the prince of African travellers.
"I am, dear Sir Edward Lee,
"Yours faithfully,
"Richard F Burton."
On the 16th of February we started for one of the greatest humbugs in the world, the baths at Hammám R'irha, passing Blidah, where there is a wonderful gorge, and archæological remains. There is a wretched little station called Bou Medfa, where a tumbledown little 'bus, only good enough for luggage, awaits passengers; but fortunately we got a calèche, two good horses, and a pleasant Jehu, and we had a long drive through cold, raw, snowy air (in February). At first we had a glorious day, splendid weather, and a beautiful view for distance. We stayed here a week, during which it did nothing afterwards but pour with rain, and a walk put you almost knee-deep in thick red clay. We visited the gurbi or hut of Suleiman, the Arab guardian of the hotel, and sat with his wife. We should not call him an Arab or a Bedawin at Damascus, but in all these kind of places they generally have these protectors, even at Alexandria, but not in Syria. It would have puzzled any one to live in that gurbi, except people used to living in very small tents.
Richard got gouty here, and we were glad to return to Algiers at the end of the week; but we did not go back to the same sort of life, of which there are two. One life is to live up at Mustafa Supérieure and take care of your health, and the other is to live in town and see something of native life. You cannot do both, because getting up and down from Mustafa to town occupies all day; so we now went to the Hotel de la Régence, where we stayed a fortnight in order to see something of Algiers. Here we read "Mosállam," by Laurence Oliphant, which explains so much of his life.
We went all over the City, seeing the most interesting things—the Cardinal's Moorish Palace, the Cardinal's Cathedral, the Museum, where is shown poor Geronimo's body. He lived in 1540, was taken prisoner and baptized, but his relations caught him again, and kept him as a Mohammedan till he was twenty-five; then he returned to Oran, where he renewed his Christianity, but he was caught again by a Moorish corsair and brought to Algiers, where he was ordered again to become a Mohammedan; and as he would not, he was sentenced to be thrown alive into a mould, with his feet and hands tied with cords, and the block of concrete containing his body was built into an angle of the fort. In 1853 it was destroyed, and on the 27th of December the skeleton was found enclosed in the block. The bones were carefully removed, and interred with great pomp in the Cathedral, built on the site of the Mosque of Hassan. Liquid plaster of Paris was run into the mould left by his body; they thus obtained a perfect model, even of his features, the cords which bound him, and the texture of his clothing, and this you see in the museum. We wandered about the Mosques and about the bazars to buy curios, and although Algiers is now only a French town on Arab foundations, the Arab part of the town, that remains untouched, was as interesting as anything we had ever seen. Take, for instance, the Mosque or Zaouia of Sidi Abd er Rahman Eth-Thalebi, which contains his tomb and its surroundings; there are numbers of tombs around him, and the usual drapery, lamps, banners, and ostrich eggs. Take the Arab town with its close, dark, steep streets, and its dark holes and shops, the ways of which are like climbing a wall of steps. One is ascended by 497 steps; they are mostly alleys just wide enough to pass through, and is a labyrinth in which you might easily lose yourself. The Kasbah, or Citadel, is also well worth a visit. We made as many excursions as was possible in the interior, considering the state of Richard's health, and when he was not well enough for a walk or a drive, he received African Professors. Some of our party went to see one of the fanatical religious meetings of the Assaouwiyeh, the religious confraternity of Sidi Mohammed bin Aissa, which take place sometimes in the native quarter. I have seen many of these sort of things, but never carried to the extent that I am told they are carried here, where they mutilate themselves, and sometimes a sheep is thrown amongst them which they devour alive. I could not sleep that night for knowing it was going on, but our party comforted me by telling me next day that nothing of the sort had taken place.
We now took our departure from Algiers.