Sketches and Travels in London

by William Makepeace Thackeray

them. As you go through the streets, these architectural beauties

  keep the eye continually charmed: now it is a marble fountain,

  with its arabesque and carved overhanging roof, which you can look

  at with as much pleasure as an antique gem, so neat and brilliant

  is the execution of it; then, you come to the arched entrance to a

  mosque, which shoots up like--like what?--like the most beautiful

  pirouette by Taglioni, let us say. This architecture is not

  sublimely beautiful, perfect loveliness and calm, like that which

  was revealed to us at the Parthenon (and in comparison of which the

  Pantheon and Colosseum are vulgar and coarse, mere broad-shouldered

  Titans before ambrosial Jove); but these fantastic spires, and

  cupolas, and galleries, excite, amuse, tickle the imagination, so

  to speak, and perpetually fascinate the eye. There were very few

  believers in the famous mosque of Sultan Hassan when we visited it,

  except the Moslemitish beadle, who was on the look-out for

  backsheesh, just like his brother officer in an English cathedral;

  and who, making us put on straw slippers, so as not to pollute the

  sacred pavement of the place, conducted us through it.

  It is stupendously light and airy; the best specimens of Norman art

  that I have seen (and surely the Crusaders must have carried home

  the models of these heathenish temples in their eyes) do not exceed

  its noble grace and simplicity. The mystics make discoveries at

  home, that the Gothic architecture is Catholicism carved in stone--

  (in which case, and if architectural beauty is a criterion or

  expression of religion, what a dismal barbarous creed must that

  expressed by the Bethesda meeting-house and Independent chapels

  be?)--if, as they would gravely hint, because Gothic architecture

  is beautiful, Catholicism is therefore lovely and right,--why,

  Mahometanism must have been right and lovely too once. Never did a

  creed possess temples more elegant; as elegant as the Cathedral at

  Rouen, or the Baptistery at Pisa.

  But it is changed now. There was nobody at prayers; only the

  official beadles, and the supernumerary guides, who came for

  backsheesh. Faith hath degenerated. Accordingly they can't build

  these mosques, or invent these perfect forms, any more. Witness

  the tawdry incompleteness and vulgarity of the Pasha's new temple,

  and the woful failures among the very late edifices in

  Constantinople!

  However, they still make pilgrimages to Mecca in great force. The

  Mosque of Hassan is hard by the green plain on which the Hag

  encamps before it sets forth annually on its pious peregrination.

  It was not yet its time, but I saw in the bazaars that redoubted

  Dervish, who is the master of the Hag--the leader of every

  procession, accompanying the sacred camel; and a personage almost

  as much respected as Mr. O'Connell in Ireland.

  This fellow lives by alms (I mean the head of the Hag). Winter and

  summer he wears no clothes but a thin and scanty white shirt. He

  wields a staff, and stalks along scowling and barefoot. His

  immense shock of black hair streams behind him, and his brown

  brawny body is curled over with black hair, like a savage man.

  This saint has the largest harem in the town; he is said to be

  enormously rich by the contributions he has levied; and is so

  adored for his holiness by the infatuated folk, that when he

  returns from the Hag (which he does on horseback, the chief Mollahs

  going out to meet him and escort him home in state along the

  Ezbekieh road), the people fling themselves down under the horse's

  feet, eager to be trampled upon and killed, and confident of heaven

  if the great Hadji's horse will but kick them into it. Was it my

  fault if I thought of Hadji Daniel, and the believers in him?

  There was no Dervish of repute on the plain when I passed; only one

  poor wild fellow, who was dancing, with glaring eyes and grizzled

  beard, rather to the contempt of the bystanders, as I thought, who

  by no means put coppers into his extended bowl. On this poor

  devil's head there was a poorer devil still--a live cock, entirely

  plucked, but ornamented with some bits of ragged tape and scarlet

  and tinsel, the most horribly grotesque and miserable object I ever

  saw.

  A little way from him, there was a sort of play going on--a clown

  and a knowing one, like Widdicombe and the clown with us,--the

  buffoon answering with blundering responses, which made all the

  audience shout with laughter; but the only joke which was

  translated to me would make you do anything but laugh, and shall

  therefore never be revealed by these lips. All their humour, my

  dragoman tells me, is of this questionable sort; and a young

  Egyptian gentleman, son of a Pasha, whom I subsequently met at

  Malta, confirmed the statement, and gave a detail of the practices

  of private life which was anything but edifying. The great aim of

  woman, he said, in the much-maligned Orient, is to administer to

  the brutality of her lord; her merit is in knowing how to vary the

  beast's pleasures. He could give us no idea, he said, of the wit

  of the Egyptian women, and their skill in double entendre; nor, I

  presume, did we lose much by our ignorance. What I would urge,

  humbly, however, is this--Do not let us be led away by German

  writers and aesthetics, Semilassoisms, Hahnhahnisms, and the like.

  The life of the East is a life of brutes. The much maligned

  Orient, I am confident, has not been maligned near enough; for the

  good reason that none of us can tell the amount of horrible

  sensuality practised there.

  Beyond the Jack-pudding rascal and his audience, there was on the

  green a spot, on which was pointed out to me a mark, as of blood.

  That morning the blood had spouted from the neck of an Arnaoot

  soldier, who had been executed for murder. These Arnaoots are the

  curse and terror of the citizens. Their camps are without the

  city; but they are always brawling, or drunken, or murdering

  within, in spite of the rigid law which is applied to them, and

  which brings one or more of the scoundrels to death almost every

  week.

  Some of our party had seen this fellow borne by the hotel the day

  before, in the midst of a crowd of soldiers who had apprehended

  him. The man was still formidable to his score of captors: his

  clothes had been torn off; his limbs were bound with cords; but he

  was struggling frantically to get free; and my informant described

  the figure and appearance of the naked, bound, writhing savage, as

  quite a model of beauty.

  Walking in the street, this fellow had just before been struck by

  the looks of a woman who was passing, and laid hands on her. She

  ran away, and he pursued her. She ran into the police-barrack,

  which was luckily hard by; but the Arnaoot was nothing daunted, and

  followed into the midst of the police. One of them tried to stop

  him. The Arnaoot pulled out a pistol, and shot the policeman dead.

  He cut down three or four more before he was secured. He knew his
<
br />   inevitable end must be death: that he could not seize upon the

  woman: that he could not hope to resist half a regiment of armed

  soldiers: yet his instinct of lust and murder was too strong; and

  so he had his head taken off quite calmly this morning, many of his

  comrades attending their brother's last moments. He cared not the

  least about dying; and knelt down and had his head off as coolly as

  if he were looking on at the same ceremony performed on another.

  When the head was off, and the blood was spouting on the ground, a

  married woman, who had no children, came forward very eagerly out

  of the crowd, to smear herself with it,--the application of

  criminals' blood being considered a very favourable medicine for

  women afflicted with barrenness,--so she indulged in this remedy.

  But one of the Arnaoots standing near said, "What, you like blood,

  do you?" (or words to that effect). "Let's see how yours mixes

  with my comrade's." And thereupon, taking out a pistol, he shot

  the woman in the midst of the crowd and the guards who were

  attending the execution; was seized of course by the latter; and no

  doubt to-morrow morning will have HIS head off too. It would be a

  good chapter to write--the Death of the Arnaoot--but I shan't go.

  Seeing one man hanged is quite enough in the course of a life. J'y

  ai ete, as the Frenchman said of hunting.

  These Arnaoots are the terror of the town. They seized hold of an

  Englishman the other day, and were very nearly pistolling him.

  Last week one of them murdered a shopkeeper at Boulak, who refused

  to sell him a water-melon at a price which he, the soldier, fixed

  upon it. So, for the matter of three-halfpence, he killed the

  shopkeeper; and had his own rascally head chopped off, universally

  regretted by his friends. Why, I wonder, does not His Highness the

  Pasha invite the Arnaoots to a dejeuner at the Citadel, as he did

  the Mamelukes, and serve them up the same sort of breakfast? The

  walls are considerably heightened since Emin Bey and his horse

  leapt them, and it is probable that not one of them would escape.

  This sort of pistol practice is common enough here, it would

  appear; and not among the Arnaoots merely, but the higher orders.

  Thus, a short time since, one of His Highness's grandsons, whom I

  shall call Bluebeard Pasha (lest a revelation of the name of the

  said Pasha might interrupt our good relations with his country)--

  one of the young Pashas being rather backward in his education, and

  anxious to learn mathematics, and the elegant deportment of

  civilised life, sent to England for a tutor. I have heard he was a

  Cambridge man, and had learned both algebra and politeness under

  the Reverend Doctor Whizzle, of--College.

  One day when Mr. MacWhirter, B.A., was walking in Shoubra Gardens,

  with His Highness the young Bluebeard Pasha, inducting him into the

  usages of polished society, and favouring him with reminiscences of

  Trumpington, there came up a poor fellah, who flung himself at the

  feet of young Bluebeard, and calling for justice in a loud and

  pathetic voice, and holding out a petition, besought His Highness

  to cast a gracious eye upon the same, and see that his slave had

  justice done him.

  Bluebeard Pasha was so deeply engaged and interested by his

  respected tutor's conversation, that he told the poor fellah to go

  to the deuce, and resumed the discourse which his ill-timed outcry

  for justice had interrupted. But the unlucky wight of a fellah was

  pushed by his evil destiny, and thought he would make yet another

  application. So he took a short cut down one of the garden lanes,

  and as the Prince and the Reverend Mr. MacWhirter, his tutor, came

  along once more engaged in pleasant disquisition, behold the fellah

  was once more in their way, kneeling at the august Bluebeard's

  feet, yelling out for justice as before, and thrusting his petition

  into the Royal face.

  When the Prince's conversation was thus interrupted a second time,

  his Royal patience and clemency were at an end. "Man," said he,

  "once before I bade thee not to pester me with thy clamour, and lo!

  you have disobeyed me,--take the consequences of disobedience to a

  Prince, and thy blood be upon thine own head." So saying, he drew

  out a pistol and blew out the brains of that fellah, so that he

  never bawled out for justice any more.

  The Reverend Mr. MacWhirter was astonished at this sudden mode of

  proceeding: "Gracious Prince," said he, "we do not shoot an

  undergraduate at Cambridge even for walking over a college grass-

  plot.--Let me suggest to your Royal Highness that this method of

  ridding yourself of a poor devil's importunities is such as we

  should consider abrupt and almost cruel in Europe. Let me beg you

  to moderate your Royal impetuosity for the future; and, as your

  Highness's tutor, entreat you to be a little less prodigal of your

  powder and shot."

  "O Mollah!" said His Highness, here interrupting his governor's

  affectionate appeal,--"you are good to talk about Trumpington and

  the Pons Asinorum, but if you interfere with the course of justice

  in any way, or prevent me from shooting any dog of an Arab who

  snarls at my heels, I have another pistol; and, by the beard of the

  Prophet! a bullet for you too." So saying he pulled out the

  weapon, with such a terrific and significant glance at the Reverend

  Mr. MacWhirter, that that gentleman wished himself back in his

  Combination Room again; and is by this time, let us hope, safely

  housed there.

  Another facetious anecdote, the last of those I had from a well-

  informed gentleman residing at Cairo, whose name (as many copies of

  this book that is to be will be in the circulating libraries there)

  I cannot, for obvious reasons, mention. The revenues of the

  country come into the august treasury through the means of farmers,

  to whom the districts are let out, and who are personally

  answerable for their quota of the taxation. This practice involves

  an intolerable deal of tyranny and extortion on the part of those

  engaged to levy the taxes, and creates a corresponding duplicity

  among the fellahs, who are not only wretchedly poor among

  themselves, but whose object is to appear still more poor, and

  guard their money from their rapacious overseers. Thus the Orient

  is much maligned; but everybody cheats there: that is a melancholy

  fact. The Pasha robs and cheats the merchants; knows that the

  overseer robs him, and bides his time, until he makes him disgorge

  by the application of the tremendous bastinado; the overseer robs

  and squeezes the labourer; and the poverty-stricken devil cheats

  and robs in return; and so the government moves in a happy cycle of

  roguery.

  Deputations from the fellahs and peasants come perpetually before

  the august presence, to complain of the cruelty and exactions of

  the chiefs set over them: but, as it is known that the Arab never

  will pay without the bastinado, their complaints, for the most

  part, meet wi
th but little attention. His Highness's treasury must

  be filled, and his officers supported in their authority.

  However, there was one village, of which the complaints were so

  pathetic, and the inhabitants so supremely wretched, that the Royal

  indignation was moved at their story, and the chief of the village,

  Skinflint Beg, was called to give an account of himself at Cairo.

  When he came before the presence, Mehemet Ali reproached him with

  his horrible cruelty and exactions; asked him how he dared to treat

  his faithful and beloved subjects in this way, and threatened him

  with disgrace, and the utter confiscation of his property, for thus

  having reduced a district to ruin.

  "Your Highness says I have reduced these fellahs to ruin," said

  Skinflint Beg: "what is the best way to confound my enemies, and

  to show you the falsehood of their accusations that I have ruined

  them?--To bring more money from them. If I bring you five hundred

  purses from my village, will you acknowledge that my people are not

  ruined yet?"

  The heart of the Pasha was touched: "I will have no more

  bastinadoing, O Skinflint Beg; you have tortured these poor people

  so much, and have got so little from them, that my Royal heart

  relents for the present, and I will have them suffer no farther."

  "Give me free leave--give me your Highness's gracious pardon, and I

  will bring the five hundred purses as surely as my name is

  Skinflint Beg. I demand only the time to go home, the time to

  return, and a few days to stay, and I will come back as honestly as

  Regulus Pasha did to the Carthaginians,--I will come back and make

  my face white before your Highness."

  Skinflint Beg's prayer for a reprieve was granted, and he returned

  to his village, where he forthwith called the elders together. "O

  friends," he said, "complaints of our poverty and misery have

  reached the Royal throne, and the benevolent heart of the Sovereign

  has been melted by the words that have been poured into his ears.

  'My heart yearns towards my people of El Muddee,' he says; 'I have

  thought how to relieve their miseries. Near them lies the fruitful

  land of El Guanee. It is rich in maize and cotton, in sesame and

  barley; it is worth a thousand purses; but I will let it to my

  children for seven hundred, and I will give over the rest of the

  profit to them, as an alleviation for their affliction.'"

  The elders of El Muddee knew the great value and fertility of the

  lands of Guanee, but they doubted the sincerity of their governor,

  who, however, dispelled their fears, and adroitly quickened their

  eagerness to close with the proffered bargain. "I will myself

  advance two hundred and fifty purses," he said; "do you take

  counsel among yourselves, and subscribe the other five hundred; and

  when the sum is ready, a deputation of you shall carry it to Cairo,

  and I will come with my share; and we will lay the whole at the

  feet of His Highness." So the grey-bearded ones of the village

  advised with one another; and those who had been inaccessible to

  bastinadoes, somehow found money at the calling of interest; and

  the Sheikh, and they, and the five hundred purses, set off on the

  road to the capital.

  When they arrived, Skinflint Beg and the elders of El Muddee sought

  admission to the Royal throne, and there laid down their purses.

  "Here is your humble servant's contribution," said Skinflint,

  producing his share; "and here is the offering of your loyal

  village of El Muddee. Did I not before say that enemies and

  deceivers had maligned me before the august presence, pretending

  that not a piastre was left in my village, and that my extortion

  had entirely denuded the peasantry? See! here is proof that there

  is plenty of money still in El Muddee: in twelve hours the elders

  have subscribed five hundred purses, and lay them at the feet of

  their lord."

  Instead of the bastinado, Skinflint Beg was instantly rewarded with

  the Royal favour, and the former mark of attention was bestowed