Boulak,
October 22, 1868.
Dearest Alick,
The unlucky journey to Syria almost cost me my life. The climate is absolute poison to consumptive people. In ten days after I arrived the doctor told me to settle my affairs, for I had probably only a few days to live, and certainly should never recover. However I got better, and was carried on board the steamer, but am too weak for anything. We were nearly shipwrecked coming back owing to the Russian captain having his bride on board and not minding his ship. We bumped and scraped and rolled very unpleasantly. At Beyrout the Sisters of Charity wouldn’t nurse a Protestant, nor the Prussians a non-Lutheran. But Omar and Darfour nursed me better than Europeans ever do. Little Blackie was as sharp about the physic as a born doctor’s boy when Omar was taking his turn of sleep. I did not like the few Syrians I saw at all.
November 6, 1868: Alick
Boulak,
November 6, 1868.
Dearest Alick,
I am sure you will rejoice to hear that I am really better. I now feel so much like living on a bit longer that I will ask you to send me a cargo of medicines. I didn’t think it worth while before to ask for anything to be sent to me that could not be forwarded to Hades, but my old body seems very tough and I fancy I have still one or two of my nine lives left.
I hope to sail in a very few days, Maurice is going up to Cairo so I send this by him. Yesterday was little Rainie’s birthday, and I thought very longingly of her. The photo, of Leighton’s sketch of Janet I like very much.
January 25, 1869: Sir Alexander Duff Gordon
To Sir Alexander Duff Gordon.