CHAPTER V.
DOMESTIC LIFE IN HÂIFA.
Although the tents were very near to the town, Mr. Finn laughingly insisted that I should not make my first entry into Hâifa on foot; so I mounted, and, with my brother and a few of his Arab friends walking by my side, traversed the bridle-path by the gardens, and approached the embattled stone gateway. Its heavy wooden doors, covered with hides and plates of iron, were thrown open for us, on their creaking hinges, by the sleepy wardens; whose mattresses were spread on stone platforms in the square vaulted chamber of the gate.
They welcomed us with the words, "Enter in, in peace." We said, "May God preserve you! good-night." And they answered, "A thousand good nights to you!" but their greetings were almost drowned by the angry barking of a troop of dogs, roused by the clanging of the great doors behind us.
Within the town, wherever there was space, flocks and herds were lying down, crowded together in the moonlight; and in the narrow, tortuous, dirty, channeled streets we met now and then a moaning, miserable-looking, sleepless cow or stray donkey.
We passed a little belfried Latin chapel, shaded by a pepper-tree-just like a willow-and a simple mosque and minaret, with a palm-tree near it, and then came to a pleasant opening close to the sea-shore, where a number of camels, camel-drivers, and peasants were sleeping round the red embers of a wood fire.
I dismounted at the entrance of a house overlooking this scene, and passed under a low, arched gateway, into a roughly-paved, open court, brightened by the lamps and lanterns in the rooms all round it, the doors of which were open, for their inmates, our neighbors, were watching and waiting to see and welcome us.
I mounted a steep, uncovered, stone stairway to a broad landing, dignified by the name of terrace, leading to two square, lofty, airy rooms, with whitewashed walls and stone floors, where my brother had formerly lived for a year or more; this was to be our temporary home, and Katrîne, with the help of an upholsterer—an Arab Jew—had been very busy making it ready for us.
At the end of the terrace was a little room, in which were all the requisites for preparing pipes, coffee, and sherbets. Narghilés, chibouques, tobacco-bags, coffee-cups, and glasses garnished its walls—and Yûsef, our little coffee boy, pipe-bearer, and page, who, to his infinite satisfaction, presided over it, came out, arrayed in all his best, to kiss my hands, and evidently did his utmost to make a favorable impression on his new mistress. He had on clean, loose, white cotton drawers, a scarlet cloth jacket, a shawl girdle, and a white, quilted cotton skull-cap. Katrîne was quite content with her new quarters below, and she told me that she had unexpectedly found some cousins in Hâifa. I congratulated her, guessing, however, that this was only one of her curious delusions.
My brother's dragoman and secretary, Mohammed, his Egyptian groom, and several candidates for service at the Vice-Consulate, crowded round to welcome me, and solicit my favor and protection, in words which were exactly like quotations from the Old Testament.
An elderly Moslem woman, with an anxious, time-worn face, came, and after saluting me, said, "If now I have found grace in your sight, speak for me to my lord, your brother, that he may take my son into his service; speak now, I pray you, a word for my son, for he is my only son, and I am a widow."
Mattresses, cushions, and pillows, newly covered with chintz, placed nearly all round the rooms on planks, supported by roughly-made, low wooden trestles, a few pieces of European furniture, and a pretty well-stocked bookcase, made the place look cozy and comfortable. The boat from Tantûra arrived safely during the night with our luggage.
The next morning, September 24th, two men from Nazareth came to welcome us, and gave me a fatted lamb. Soon afterward a little party arrived from Shefa 'Amer, with a camel-load of fine water-melons; and a peasant from a neighboring village brought us some goat's milk cheese.
I must explain that these offerings are generally paid for at a rate considerably above the market price.
Saleh Sekhali, our neighbor, a Christian Arab, an intelligent, thoughtful-looking man, took breakfast with us. He told me that my brother was the only Englishman who had ever resided in Haifa, and that I was the first English girl who had ever passed a night within the walls of the town. He said that very strange notions and opinions were held by the Arabs about English women and English society, and a great deal of curiosity was expressed by his friends on the subject. They hoped now to have an opportunity of judging for themselves by personal intercourse with us.
Saleh did not understand any European language, but he was clever and very quick of comprehension, and fond of study. He kindly volunteered to teach me Arabic, and to hear me read every day.
On inquiry I found that the population of Haîfa was, in 1854, computed thus:
|
1,200 | ||||
|
400 | Adherents of the Pope, and consequently under French patronage. | |||
|
50 | ||||
|
30 | ||||
|
300 | ||||
|
32 | ||||
|
2,012 |
In the year 1860 the population was reckoned at about 2,300 souls. We went out and took leave of Mr. Finn, who was on the point of starting for 'Akka. His tents were all cleared away. Then we called at each of the Consulates, for among the Europeans in the Levant, the new-comer is expected to be the first caller. The French Consul—who in early youth had served in the ranks of the first Napoleon—received us heartily, and introduced me to his wife, a Syrian lady, who spoke French fluently. The Austrian Consul is a native of one of the Dalmatian Isles, and the other Consulates were held by Ionians and natives of Scio, who showed us great courtesy and kindness. The American Consular Agent is an Arab, who can speak a little broken English. The ladies of these families were all either Syrian or Greek, but they most of them spoke Italian, and welcomed me into their circle with graceful cordiality. Two other families, of French extraction, engaged in commerce, completed the European colony of Hâifa. Their houses were built in Oriental fashion, round courts, some of which were paved with black and white marble. The rooms were furnished with Turkish divans, French mirrors, consoles, and pictures. I must not omit the little Café, called the Victoria Hotel, kept by a Maltese.
Wednesday, September 26th, a party of women in white izzars, or sheets, from the court below, came early and brought me several flat loaves of bread, stamped with a cross, formed of groups of sacred monograms, IC, XC, NI, KI, etc., in celebration of the Greek Feast of the Holy Cross.
Presently the Greek Bishop of 'Akka visited us. He wore a long, blue cloth dress, very flowing and open, exposing an under robe of crimson silk, a crimson girdle, and black pointed shoes. He did not remove his low, brimless, black hat, which curves slightly and spreads toward the crown.
When he and his suite had retired, a letter was handed to my brother, which caused him to rise hastily and go out. I watched from the front window, and soon saw evident signs of a commotion in the town. Little groups of armed men were standing about in the open place, and passing hurriedly to and fro. In a short time I saw all the consuls in a body, preceded by their kawasses, carrying their swords and tall silver-headed sticks, going toward the Governor's castle, which was in sight. My brother ran up for a moment to tell me that Tîreh and the villages in its neighborhood had united to attack Hâifa, and three or four hundred of the peasantry were just outside the walls, attempting to effect an entrance. We were actually in a state of siege. The two gates were closed and guarded, and wherever its walls were very weak, detachments of impromptu volunteers were placed. I sat alone watching, and wondering what would happen. Men were parading the streets, making a great noise, and armed with old guns, staves, and swords of all shapes. The boys followed their example by marching about with sticks, shouting lustily, seemingly half for fun and half for fear. I could hear the firing of guns now and then from the back of the town, and the loud screams of the terrified women and children.
Girls from the neighboring houses and the court below flocked into my room, with their mothers, crying and trembling. They wondered why Madam Inglesi, as they called me, did not show any signs of fear. I tried to calm them, saying, "Be at rest, Allah is good." But they almost nonplused me by replying, "Allah is good! Praised be Allah! But the sons of Tîreh are bad!" And they refused to be comforted.
A group of heavily-armed, mounted horsemen were prancing about, as if to excite all the people to action. The consuls returned from the castle, where a council had been held. They had drawn up a protest against the Government, and signed it. I was told that four of the most venturesome of the attacking party had been shot under the south wall, and some of our townspeople had been slightly wounded. The Tîrehites had retreated; but as it was expected that they would renew the attack at night, preparations were made to resist it; for the walls of Hâifa are not very strong, and could easily be scaled or broken down. A messenger was dispatched to 'Akka by boat to demand assistance. In the mean time my brother, at the Governor's request, procured guns and ammunition from an English ship in the port. Our room was converted into an armory, and our stairway and terrace was soon crowded with applicants for arms, which were cautiously distributed. A Government secretary stood by, making a list of the names of the volunteers thus supplied. By sunset the excitement had greatly increased, and no one seemed to think of going to rest. The consuls kept a careful look-out on the walls, and men paraded the town by moonlight, shouting, "Our swords are strong, and our trust is in God!" And the boys, with their sticks uplifted, echoed the words at the top of their voices.
Several Arab women, my neighbors, came and sat with me when my brother went out. One of them brought a favorite Arab dish of bleached and crushed walnuts and vermicelli, baked in butter and sugar. It was eaten while hot. The women all wore full trowsers and tight jackets; some were made of colored prints, and others of striped Damascus silk. Katrîne's simple Bethlehem dress was quite strange to them—they had never seen the costume before. They smoked, and chatted, and laughed, and cried by turns; and retired, hastily vailing themselves, when my brother came in at midnight to tell me that fifty artillery men and thirty Bashi Bazûks had arrived from 'Akka in consequence of the consular protest. They were placed in proper positions as sentinels and patrols, and three or four hundred of the peasantry of a friendly village came to offer their assistance. Many of them were mounted on horses, and carried long spears; the rest had heavy guns. Altogether the little place looked quite warlike. Thus protected we slept in peace.
The next morning a large party of horsemen arrived from Shefa 'Amer and dismounted at our house; for they had come, they said, especially to protect the English Vice Consulate. The Tîrehites had now quite retreated, but our little town was still full of excitement. The assembled volunteers and armed peasantry were galloping about, singing and shouting, and now and then firing their guns. They seemed quite disappointed at not finding any especial use for them. The place was so well guarded that there was no longer any fear of an attack.
Just before sunset I strolled out with my brother through the quadrangle or castle-court, which was occupied by the artillery. We went out at the east gate, and through the Moslem cemetery to the fruit-gardens and the palm-grove. We were returning homeward on the sands when the loud and angry shouting of some herdsmen attracted our notice. A large number of cattle, some of which were said to be stolen property, were being led toward the town, and they were the subjects of the dispute. A crowd soon assembled, the noise increased, and an angry contest ensued, till words were followed by blows. I was led out of the way, and stationed on an embankment, thrown up years ago by Ibrahîm Pasha's soldiers. The disturbance was, naturally, misconstrued by the gallant volunteers and defenders of Hâifa. A troop of mounted peasantry issued from the gates, their long spears uplifted, the dust flying under the feet of their galloping horses, while their long striped cloaks and shawl head-dresses—kefias— streamed like flags or banners. The cattle and goats filed in all directions, and in their fright they did not seem to see where they were going, but blundered into thickets, against rocks and tombs, and into the sea. I was very nearly thrown down by some of them. More than a hundred men came out before they discovered that it was only a false alarm, and then, regretfully, they retraced their steps. Saleh, who was with us, told me to consider it as a little "fantasia," got up for my especial entertainment.
After our evening meal my brother was called away. I puzzled over my Arabic lesson for some time, and then went out on the terrace, where two of the men-servants were already sleeping. It seemed to me like a dream to be standing there alone in the moonlight, the night-silence only broken by the rippling of the waves on the shore, the bleating of my tethered lamb, and distant sounds of shouting and singing.
The next day the Pasha of 'Akka arrived. He visited each of the consuls, and then held a council at the castle. It was proposed that a force should march against Tîreh, in order to arrest and punish the plotters of the late attack on Hâifa; but it was soon made apparent that the Tîrehites had friends at Court and protectors in the Council. Some Moslems of influence in Hâifa had personal interest in the prosperity of Tîreh, for they had considerable property there, and some of the Tîrehites were largely in their debt. Through their interference and bribes, the affair was allowed to pass by almost unnoticed, notwithstanding the strongly expressed indignation of the consuls and others.
A few days afterward, I was invited to a wedding in the Sekhali family, Christian Arabs of the orthodox Greek community. At about eight o'clock, A.M., I was led into their church, a domed building, lighted from above, and gaudy with highly-colored, distorted copies of ancient Byzantine pictures; for the Greeks, though not allowed to have images to assist them in their devotions, may have pictures, provided they are not too life-like! The body of the church, unincumbered by stalls or chairs, was already nearly filled with wedding guests, holding lighted—home-made—wax tapers; one was placed in my hands. In the center of the crowd, at a lectern, stood a priest, and, immediately before him, the bride, closely shrouded in a white izzar. A many-colored muslin vail entirely concealed her features. The bridegroom by her side, who was only seventeen, wore a suit of sky-blue cloth, edged with gold thread, and a handsome crimson and white shawl girdle. He had only once seen the face of the bride, and that was six months before, on the day of the betrothal.
The service was in Arabic, and rapidly uttered in clear but monotonous tones. The most important part of it seemed to be the Gospel narrative of the marriage at Cana, in Galilee. While the priest was reading it, bread and wine were handed to the young man. He gave some to the girl, who, in taking it, was very careful not to expose her face. Immediately afterward, she held out one of her henna-stained hands, and a jeweled ring was placed on her finger. Two crowns, made of gilt foil, were brought by the bridegroom's-man and bride's-woman, and placed on the heads of the now married pair, who joined hands, and with their two attendants walked round and round in the midst of the people, who made way for them and sprinkled them with rose-water and other scents as they passed, singing, and shouting good wishes. By the time the circuit had been made seven times, the vails of the bride and bride's-woman were quite saturated, and the two men submitted, without the slightest resistance, to have bottles of scent emptied on their tarbûshes. As the excitement increased, the sprinkling became general, and I came in for my share. Thus ended the ceremony.
While this was going on, a continual shrill screaming accompaniment was kept up by the female friends of the bride, who were crowded together in the latticed gallery overhead. There were very few women in the body of the church, and those were near relations of the bride or bridegroom. Presently the men formed a procession, and with the bridegroom in their midst, walked out of church. A pipe-bearer, carrying a handsome chibouque, was in attendance, and he handed it to the bridegroom whenever the leaders paused to dance, or to sing some wild extravagant love-song. Rose-water was poured on his head from the roofs or windows of the houses under which he passed. Etiquette required that he should look quite calm and composed in the midst of the noise and excitement. I was told by Saleh that he preserved his dignified demeanor throughout the day, while his friends and fellow-townsmen were feasting and making merry round him, and singing bridal songs. In the mean time, the bride, with her female attendants and companions, all vailed, and shrouded in white, walked very slowly toward her home—the home of her childhood; for she was not to go forth to meet the bridegroom till after sunset. I accompanied her. We all carried our tapers, although it was the third hour, that is, about nine o'clock, A.M. We paused now and then while one of the professional singing women improvised a solo, suitable for the occasion. All the women took up the words, and joined in chorus, as we walked on again. One verse was in allusion to the presence of a daughter of England at the wedding. It was regarded as a favorable omen. The chorus was a prayer for the peace and happiness of the English girl. We mounted a broad, covered stone staircase, and, passing through a corridor, entered a large, many-windowed room. The bride was led to a sort of throne, made of cushions and embroidered pillows, and I was placed by her side. Her white izzar and vail were taken off. She looked dreadfully faint and fatigued. She was not more than fourteen years old, with an oval face, rather large lips, and black, delicately-arched eyebrows. Her eyes were shut; for custom makes it a point of honor for a bride to keep them closed from the time she leaves the church till the moment she meets the bridegroom at night. She sat in state, in a kneeling posture, resting on her heels, while the palms of her hands were placed flat on her knees, as some Indian deities are represented. Her head-dress was almost concealed by strings of pearls, festoons of small gold coins, diamond—or paste—rosettes, and flower sprays. Her long hair, twisted with braid, hung down her back in nine plaits, heavy with little gold ornaments and coins. She wore a purple velvet jacket, very open in front, showing her crape shirt and her chest, which was actually adorned with little bits of leaf-gold! Her necklace, or collar of gold coins, was very beautiful. Her skirt of white and yellow silk almost concealed her full, yellow silk drawers. Her hands and arms were checkered with deep orange-brown henna stains; but what struck me more than all, was the glossy, shining luster of her skin.
While I had been intently watching and observing the bride, the company of women had quite transformed themselves. They had thrown off their white izzars and vails, and now appeared in all the colors of the rainbow—in all sorts of combinations. The faces of many looked as glossy as the bride's. Nearly all of them had very large dark eyes, with the edges of the eyelids blackened with kohl. Their mouths were rather wide, and revealed large, very perfect white teeth, which glistened as the teeth of wild animals do. Their complexions were generally dark, but brilliant and clear. They came forward, one by one, to kiss the bride's hand; but she remained quite passive, and did not answer any salutations. Dancing and singing commenced. A woman kept time with a tambourine, and two or three dancers stood up in the center of the room, and attitudinized gracefully but voluptuously. They began very slowly—advancing, as if reluctantly and timidly, toward some imaginary object—then retreating, only to advance again, gradually quickening both step and action. The lookers on sat round on the matted floor, in a double row, clapping their hands in harmony with the tambourine, and singing wild, passionate songs, to melodies in a minor key, in two-four time. As soon as one dancer was tired, another stood up and replaced her; and four of them worked themselves up into such a state of excitement that they looked as if they were dying, when at last they gave way. Some of the younger girls wore white calico dresses, with small gold spangles sewed all over them in clusters; others had on white thin muslin skirts, over blue or red silk trowsers, and red or black velvet jackets; and, when they danced, they held in their hands embroidered shawls, which they waved about gracefully. Sweetmeats, fruits, creams, and various dishes were served at midday.
After sunset the mother and female relations of the bridegroom came to fetch the bride; and then she commenced crying and wailing bitterly. This is expected of her; and, whether she feel regret or no, she must show signs of sorrow on leaving her home, and must also appear unwilling to go forth to meet the bridegroom. This real or affected reluctance is sometimes carried to such an extent that the weeping bride has to be pushed and dragged along very ungracefully. I have witnessed ludicrous scenes of this kind. The vailed bride, whose eyes are still supposed to be closed—but she does peep about a little—is generally lifted on to a horse; and, though her new home may be only in the next street, she makes a tour through the town or village, riding very slowly, attended by a large company of women and girls, carrying flaming torches, and screaming and singing wildly.
I have often lent my horse to a poor girl that she may thus ride in triumph, lifted up among the crowd of torch bearers, to meet her bridegroom; and very often, just before midnight, I have been attracted to the window to see such processions pass by.
Before the going forth of the bride a party of men and women convey her trousseau by torch-light to her new home. A red wooden cradle and a red box are always the most conspicuous objects. Sometimes a small looking-glass in a gilt frame is proudly displayed. Pillows covered with bright-colored silks, a trayful of scented soap, a mattress or two, and a lehaff may be seen, varying in quality according to the rank of the bride.
On subsequent and persevering inquiry among Arab ladies, I found out how it was that the bride's face looked so lustrous. I learned that girls are prepared for marriage with a very great deal of ceremony. There are women who make the beautifying of brides their especial profession!
A widow woman, named Angelina, is the chief artiste in this department of art in Hâifa. She uses her scissors and tweezers freely and skillfully to remove superfluous hair, and trains the eyebrow to an arched line, perfecting it with black pigments. She prepares an adhesive plaster of very strong, sweet gum, and applies it by degrees all over the body, letting it remain on for a minute or more; then she tears it off quickly, and it brings away with it all the soft down or hair, leaving the skin quite bare, with an unnaturally-bright and polished appearance, much admired by Orientals. The face requires very careful manipulation.[1] When women have once submitted to this process, they look frightful if from time to time they do not repeat it; for the hair never grows so soft and fine again. Perhaps this is one of the reasons why aged Arab women, who have quite given up all these arts of adornment, look so haggard and witch-like. In some instances this ordeal slightly irritates the skin, and perfumed sesame or olive oil is applied, or cooling lotions of elder-flower water are used.
The bride invites her friends to accompany her to the public bath previous to the wedding day, and sends to each one a packet of henna, two or three pieces of soap, and two wax candles. Angelina is generally the bearer of the message and of these articles, which are always to be paid for. I have now and then accepted such invitations.
Bridal parties assemble and sometimes pass three successive days in the luxury of the Turkish bath. Pipes, sherbet, coffee, and other refreshments are served, and songs are sung in honor of the bride, who is, of course, attended by Angelina, and forms the center of attraction. Her hair is unbraided, she is slowly disrobed, and then, with her loins slightly girdled with crimson silk, she is mounted on high clogs, and led through halls and passages gradually increasing in temperature, with fountains overflowing their marble floors. She is placed on a marble platform, near to a jet of hot water. Fullers earth is rubbed on her head, she is lathered with soap, and brushed with a handful of tow. Hot water is poured over her, freely, she is swathed in long towels, and by slow degrees conducted back to a more moderate temperature, and lastly to a fountain of cool water. Her companions in the mean time undergo the same process. Then, shrouded in muslin, crape, or linen, they sit together, smoking, till they are rested and refreshed.
The edges of the eyelids are blackened thus—a little instrument, like a silver bodkin, is dipped in water, and then into a bottle or box containing an impalpable powder called kohl, made of antimony and carefully-prepared soot; the blackened point is drawn gently along between the almost closed lids of the eyes. Poor people use soot alone, and apply it with pins made of lignum vitæ.[2]
The arms and hands, legs and feet, are bandaged with narrow tape or braid, like sandals, crossing and recrossing each other; then a paste made of moistened henna powder—the pulverized leaves of the henna tree—Lawsonia—is spread and bound over them, and allowed to remain on for several hours. When it is removed, the skin is found deeply dyed wherever the tape—which is now unwound did not protect it. Thus a sort of checkered pattern is produced, and when it is artistically and delicately done—as Angelina can do it—the feet look, at a distance, as if they were sandaled, and the hands as if they were covered with mittens of a bright orange or bronze color.
Finally, early on the wedding-day, the bride is dressed in her bridal robes. Her hair is braided in what we call the Grecian plait. Small pieces of leaf-gold are stuck on her forehead and on her breast. Care is taken not to conceal any of the stars or spots tattooed on her face or chest in infancy. A line of blue dots encircling the lips is sometimes seen, and a spot on the chin is very common. A little rouge is added to highten the color of the cheeks when considered necessary.
Angelina gets into sad disgrace with the clergy of Hâifa for encouraging all this vanity, out of which she, by the by, makes a good living. She goes from one church to another for absolution, sometimes reckoning herself a Greek, sometimes a Latin, and sometimes a Melchite, according to the leniency of the respective priests.
The Arab women are very much wedded to the ancient customs of the country, and they will not abandon them, notwithstanding the persevering efforts of the priesthood.
The Greek Catholic Church vainly pronounces anathemas, and threatens with excommunication those women who tattoo themselves, and use kohl, and henna, and rouge. They will persist in doing so while they believe that it adds to their beauty, and to their powers of attraction, and in vain the noisy processions at weddings and at burials are forbidden, so long as the people believe them to be propitious. Their respect for custom is stronger even than their fear of the Church. If the priests persisted in carrying out their threats of excommunication for such offenses, their congregations would soon be scattered; so they are lenient, and thus Greek and Roman forms of Christianity are blended insensibly with ceremonies and practices so ancient that their origin even is unknown.
This is not the only difficulty which the priests find to contend with, in the pastoral care of Arab women.
In 1859 a number of black silk mittens were sold in Hâifa by a peddler from Beirût. They were a novelty to the Arab women, who were quite proud of this addition to their toilette, and displayed their mittened hands delightedly in church. The priest of the Greek Catholic community actually denounced them from the altar, forbidding the adoption of gloves, mittens, or any new and expensive luxury in their dress, and cautioned them also against exposing any part of their ornamental head-dresses in church!
I had a very interesting conversation a few days afterward with the utterer of this denunciation, and he explained to me his reason for this seemingly-strange interference about the mittens. He said that he considered it very important to check, if possible, the inroad of Frank taste among the Arab women; for, if they were to adopt the Frank dress, which requires many changes of apparel, and alters its fashions frequently, a trousseau would be so expensive that young men would not be able to marry, and early unions, which are so desirable in the East, would be prevented. The costly articles of a genuine Arab wardrobe last a lifetime, and are heirlooms, whereas the gala dresses of a Frank wardrobe must be renewed every year. This priest spoke feelingly; for he was an Arab, a husband, and the father of a large family of girls. It is quite clear that in matters of fashion and custom, the priests have very little influence. In towns where the Arabs have much intercourse with Europeans, they gradually adopt some of their manners, and imitate their costumes, by degrees abandoning their own.
On the 1st of October the victories in the Crimea were announced and celebrated in 'Akka. Five times during the day twenty-one guns were fired, and at night the town was illuminated, and bonfires were made on the hills which encircle the bay. In Hâifa a great portion of the lately acquired supply of ammunition was used in feux de joie, the minaret and the Consulates were lighted up, and we borrowed lamps, from the Jewish synagogue to deck the English flagstaff!
At night the place was very animated. We went out with Saleh Sekhali, and Mohammed Bek, a distinguished-looking, handsome Moslem, and two or three of his friends. Yûsef led the way, with "a lantern for our feet." It threw light now and then on such muddy pools, guttered streets, and heaps of vegetable refuse, that it was quite indispensable. We made our way to the narrow, ill-constructed, but well-supplied bazar, which is generally deserted at sunset, but that night the shops were all open. Pipes, red and yellow shoes and boots, embroidered slippers, Manchester prints, Damascus silks, purple linen, shawls, jars, lamps, and cooking utensils, fruit, sweetmeats, and samples of grain, were exposed by the light of a hundred lanterns. Groups of Arabs in their féte-day dresses were on all the counters, and in the open cafés and barbers' shops story-tellers and singers attracted earnest listeners. Showers of sugar-plums were thrown from one side of the place to the other, and boys were busy scrambling for them.
Mohammed Bek and Saleh, and a few Arab friends, spent the evening with us. One of them inquired what kind of stories or romances English people liked. We had recently read "Jane Eyre," so my brother began translating it to them, au courant, somewhat condensing it, and adapting it to Arab comprehension. The listeners were so interested that they came several successive nights for an hour or two to hear it to the end. I mention this because two years afterward, when traveling in the interior, we heard this story, somewhat altered and modified, but well told, by an Arab who did not know its source. We soon traced it to some of our guests of that night. Perhaps some future collector of Arabian tales may be puzzled by hearing the Oriental version of this very unoriental romance, and may fancy he has found the origin of the plot of "Jane Eyre," and rob the little imaginative recluse of Yorkshire of the credit of her wonderful power and originality. Æsop's Fables, freely translated in the same way, with the help of illustrations, gave great pleasure to our Arab friends. Our maps puzzled them, and excited their interest and curiosity, and they had faith in them when they found that by the assistance of a map of Palestine I, a stranger, could tell the names and directions of most of the towns and villages for miles around. The Moslem guests were at first rather shy, and hardly ventured to address,me; for they are not in the habit of seeing any women except their wives, slaves, and servants, and they never see any Christian women. I had been advised to avoid meeting my brother's Moslem guests for the sole reason that they seclude their female relatives; but we did not wish to imitate Oriental exclusiveness unnecessarily, and I found much to interest me in my intercourse with them. They always behaved to me with respectful and chivalrous kindness.
The Levantine ladies, who hide themselves from Moslems almost as scrupulously as the native Arabs do, were rather surprised, and they explained to me that it was quite contrary to custom for Moslems to see females out of their own families, and that the laws of their religion forbade them to do so. I took the first opportunity to make inquiry on the subject, and when two or three of the most intelligent and learned of our Moslem friends were assembled one evening at our house, I told them that I had an important question to ask them. I first reminded them that neither the customs of my country nor the voice of my conscience forbade me to see any of my fellow creatures. On the contrary, I was taught to love every one, knowing that we are all of one family, the children of one God, and created by his will. Then I said, "Is there,any law, which you regard as sacred and binding, forbidding you to see and converse with women out of your own individual families ? If there is such a law, I will not cause you to disobey it, but will help you to keep it by hiding myself from you."
They seemed to be taken by surprise; but they clearly explained and proved to me that there is no law of the kind, and it is the law of custom only which immures the women in their harems. Mohammed Bek said that their women are now quite unfitted for society, and would not know how to conduct themselves in the presence of strangers. "If we gave them liberty they would not know how to use it. Their heads are made of wood. They are not like you. When you speak, we no longer remember that you are a girl; we think we are listening to a sheikh. To live in the world knowledge and wisdom are necessary. Our wives and daughters have neither wisdom nor knowledge. Give them wisdom, and we will give them liberty."
Satisfied on this point, I continued to see them, and I never had reason to regret it. I think that I gave them some new ideas on the capabilities and capacities of women, which may in time be turned to account.
Yassîn Agha, one of our most frequent guests, invited me to visit his family. I went with my brother. We were first received in a large vaulted room by the Agha and his sons and a few Moslem gentlemen, then the eldest son was desired to conduct me to the harem, that part of the house especially occupied by women. He led me across a court, and up an open stairway, into a large, handsome room paved with marble, where a group of women waited to welcome me. He introduced me to his grandmother, an aged looking woman, almost blind, and to his own mother, and then he left me. They wore jackets and full trowsers made of common print. They led me into an inner apartment, where a younger wife of the Agha, gayly decked with embroidery, jewelry, and flowers, was seated with a number of children, slaves, and servants. The latter seemed to occupy almost the same position in the establishment as their mistresses, but some of them were very dirty, untidy, and ragged. In an open brazier in the middle of this room a charcoal fire was burning, and a little child sick with fever was on a mattress in the corner. The air was dry and hot, and I found it difficult to breathe, especially when they all crowded round me. My dress was examined with curiosity, and if I had not gently but firmly resisted, I think I should have been disrobed, so eager were they to see how my clothes were made and fastened. They patted me, stroked my hair, and called me all sorts of pet names. They asked me if I were betrothed, and whether my brother had a harem, and if he were fair and handsome. When I took off my light kid gloves, one of the children began to cry, saying, "Behold, see, the stranger is skinning her hands." Lemonade and sweetmeats were handed to me, and coffee was prepared by a black slave, who crouched down by the charcoal fire. Narghilés and long pipes were passed from one to another. The one which I smoked had a very beautiful jeweled mouthpiece, sent up by the Agha for my use. I explained to them that I had learned to smoke in their country, and that in England ladies do not smoke. They took me into a room well stocked with lehaffs and mattresses, some of which were covered with silk. They asked if I could work, and were surprised when I answered that I could make all my clothes. They told me that nearly all their dresses were made by tailors, and that their mattresses, lehaffs, and divans, were covered and made by upholsterers, so that they did very little needle-work themselves. The eldest son, who had been my guide, came to fetch me, and took me into a small but lofty room, with palm fronds at least twelve feet long in each corner, and dates hanging up in rich clusters from the rafters.
I called afterward on Mohammed Bek. He had only one wife, a pleasant young woman, who, with her infant daughter, were under the especial duennaship of the Bek’s mother, one of the most dignified-looking Arab women I ever saw.
The young wife, Miriam, was dressed in a dark cloth jacket and pink cotton trowsers. She was very much tattooed. A row of blue dots encircled her large thick lips, a star appeared on her forehead, and a little crescent on her chin. Her eyebrows were strongly marked, and her lashes very long. At her side, in her girdle, she had a gold crescent-shaped box or case, embossed and chased. It contained an inscription in Arabic characters, and she regarded it as a potent charm. Her little child had on a green silk skull-cap, to which were fastened coins, strings of pearls, and a blue bead to avert the effect of the glance of an "evil eye." Broad bands of silver, with tinkling bells attached to them, were fastened round her ankles, and she pattered about on the matted floor with her little naked feet to make them ring. She had on a tight green silk jacket, and short full Turkish trowsers, and a small red shawl for a girdle.
I liked these people very much, and often went to see them. One day when I called, about two years after my first visit, Miriam told me that she feared her husband was looking out for another wife. Some Moslem ladies, who had heard the rumor at the Turkish baths, had told her. She said, "I have lived for four years with the Bek and his mother, and I have been very happy, but I shall be happy no longer if he brings home a new bride. She will take his soul from me. Speak to him, O my sister, that he may not take another wife. He will listen to you, for your words are pearls and diamonds."
I ascertained afterward that the report was true, for Mohammed was negotiating a marriage with a girl of a tribe of the Metwalis; this was, however, soon afterward broken off, for the family or clan to which the Bek belonged became involved in a feud with the Metwalis, consequently the marriage could not take place. Mohammed had never seen the lady, so he was easily consoled, and Miriam rejoiced exceedingly.
In a third harem which I visited, I found four wives, who seemed to live very contentedly together. They were kindly treated and very much indulged, and were often allowed to go—well guarded—to the Turkish baths, and to visit other harems.
Their husband, Sheikh Abdallah, always had in his establishment the full allowance of four wives, and when one died the vacancy was soon filled. Though still in the prime of life, he had already had seven wives. I ascertained from them, by degrees, that they held supremacy in turn, for the space of a few days or a week. The honored one is said to be "holder of the keys," for during her temporary sway she is always in full dress—the mistress of the reception-room—and the favored one of the lord of the harem, while the rest attend to the cooking and household matters. This family seemed to be very well regulated, and I never saw any signs of ill-feeling between the wives, although the youngest and prettiest had no children, while the eldest, a lady of Nablûs, had three sons, and the two others, who came respectively from Saida and Damascus, had each a son and daughter.
The sheikh always sought for wives in various and far distant towns. After marriage the women rarely, if ever, came in contact with their relatives; thus, having no connections in Hâifa, they naturally sympathized with each other as strangers in a strange place. There were no old quarrels or jealousies to revive; on the contrary, there must have been subjects of novelty and interest to communicate. Perhaps this was one of the reasons why Abdallah's harem was more homelike and harmonious than any other which I visited.[3]
The chief room is long and narrow, with unglazed, wooden, latticed windows on three sides of it. A raised divan at the end of the room is regarded as the seat of honor, where the sheikh always sits. Narrow mattresses, carpeted and cushioned, are arranged on the floor close to the walls. I had known this family about three years, when, one day, as I sat in that room, surrounded by the four wives, their children and slaves, the sheikh himself was suddenly announced. All rose up at his coming. He took his seat by my side on the divan. None of the women ventured to sit in his presence till he had invited them to do so.
They all vied with each other to serve him. One placed a pillow for him cozily, another handed him sherbet, and the favored one had the especial privilege of preparing and lighting his pipe. He spoke very gently and kindly to them all, and fondled his children lovingly. He was dressed in indoor costume, and wore a long gown, called a kûmbaz, made of white goat's-hair, striped with white spun silk, and over it a bright-blue cloth pelisse, edged with fur, a very large white muslin turban, and yellow pointed slippers, without stockings.
I asked him if he had any books. He dispatched one of his little sons, with orders to bring to me all that were in the house. A slave soon appeared with a pile of dusty folios, consisting of manuscript copies of the Koran, illuminated profusely, and books of medicine and magic; but the favorite volume was brought by one of the wives. It was a thick, clumsy-looking quarto, and consisted of careful and detailed interpretations of dreams and omens of all kinds; in fact, it was a manuscript divination dictionary. The subjects were arranged in alphabetical order, beautifully written in large red letters, and the explanations were in black ink. The paper was so thick, yellow, and glossy that I at first mistook it for vellum. As the sheikh turned over the leaves of this book he said, "Lady, what was the dream of your last sleep?" I reflected an instant, and answered, "I was walking by the sea-shore, near the River Kishon, and was very tired, when suddenly a white horse, ready saddled, rose and stood before me, as if offering his services; so I mounted and rode on, as if I were flying, till I awoke." The women cried out, "It is a good dream!" And the sheikh looked in the dictionary for the words "white horse " and "sea-shore." After some consideration he assured me that my dream was a very good one, and that, though great dangers surrounded me, I should certainly escape from them. None of the women could read a single letter; but if any thing could induce them to learn, I think it would be their desire to read that book, every line of which they listened to most eagerly.
A tray of sweetmeats, nuts, fruit, and other dishes was brought in. The sheikh ate with me, and then retired; for none of the women would eat in his presence. I never saw an instance of an Arab woman eating with men except in families which had been strongly influenced by European society. These ladies were all very clever in making preserves, marmalade, and sweetmeats, and in preparing meat dishes, and seemed to be very devoted mothers. The children looked happy, and the elder sons were fine, intelligent youths.
In spite of the good-natured cheerfulness of the women, I felt that there was something wanting. Only the material part of their nature was developed, and developed so disproportionately, that the Moslems were right when they said that in their present state they are unfit for general society. In some of the harems the women live very unhappily, and are only like spies on each other. In some cases men who have two wives are obliged also to have two homes, that peace may be insured. The majority of Moslems do not practice polygamy.
Disagreements frequently arise from jealousy about offspring. The wife who has only daughters looks with hatred and envy on the mother rejoicing over an infant boy. I can fully realize the passionate despair of Hannah when provoked by Peninnah, and the muttered prayer and excitement which Eli mistook for the frenzy of drunkenness; and I can fancy I hear her at last triumphing and exulting over her son Samuel, in words of praise and prayer, inspired by the strongest feelings of her nature. I expected to find very large families in those houses where there were two or more wives; but, as a rule, this was not the case. In the Jewish and Christian quarters the children are much more numerous than in the Moslem quarters. The Jews in Syria are permitted to take a second wife if the first has no hope of having any children.
Early in October, on a pleasant afternoon, I went with my brother into one of the fruit-gardens just outside Hâifa. We cautiously made our way, one by one, down a short, narrow lane of prickly pears, and passed a little mud and stone hut, the dwelling of the gardener and his family. They were Egyptians, who are considered much more skillful than Arabs in the cultivation of the ground. Fig trees, pomegranates, almonds, elders, olives, palms, lemons, shaddocks—or, as they are called in Arabic, "lemûn helû," sweet lemons—and cucumbers of many kinds, flourished under his care. However, as every thing is sold in the market according to a tariff regulated by the Government, there is very little motive or inducement for emulation among gardeners, and no attempt is made to improve and perfect the delicious fruits and valuable vegetables of the country—quantity, without regard to quality, is the consideration of the Oriental cultivator.
Under an olive-tree, in the middle of the garden, on an old piece of matting, sat an aged Arab woman; her ragged white linen head-dress was arranged so as to shade her eyes, which were afflicted with ophthalmy. Her cotton dress was patched over and over again, and a heavy, striped abbai, or traveling cloak, was thrown over her feet. She was intently mumbling to herself, and slipping the beads of a black rosary rapidly through her long, thin fingers. Near to her was a little nook made of piled-up stones and earth, and covered with old matting. It was not much bigger than the hood of a bassinette, but it was evidently intended to shelter her head at night, for a rolled-up mattress and some heavy-wadded quilts were close to it. Old clothes were hanging on the tree above her, not for the sake of drying them, but the branch was her clothes-peg, and the tree her wardrobe. Two basins were behind the tree trunk, and the remains of a wood-fire between two blocks of stone. This was her kitchen. We greeted her with, "Peace be upon you;" but she gave us only gloomy answers, saying, "For me there is no peace," and still continued fingering her beads, without raising her head. She said an "evil eye " had looked upon her and had "destroyed the power" of her life.
A pleasant sound of falling water attracted us up to the large, square, raised, stone reservoir, round which, seated on a low parapet, a party of Arabs were smoking and chatting. Water was falling with some force into this pool, from a duct supplied by large earthenware jars, fixed with ropes, made of palm-fiber, to a large wheel. The wheel was kept in motion by a blindfolded mule, and as it turned round it dipped into a well, and the jars were filled with water, and in rising up again they emptied themselves into the duct, and so on again and again, as long as the mule kept up its monotonous round, urged on by a little barefooted boy, stick in hand. A hole in the lower part of the wall of the reservoir was every day unplugged for a certain time, and the water allowed to flow into the little channels or furrows which traversed the beds of vegetables and encircled the trees.
As we left the garden, a donkey, laden with the red shells or rinds of pomegranates, passed us. I was surprised to learn that the bright yellow dye used to stain leather is prepared from them.
We were walking toward the sands, through the burial ground. The sun had set. We had left behind us at some distance all the evening loungers about the town-gate, and all the smokers by the well-side and the garden, when we saw advancing toward us, in the twilight, a powerful-looking black man, girdled with sackcloth, carrying a staff, or rather the trunk of a slender tree, which still retained two or three of its forked branches. The man was tall, but his staff was high above him. He walked with an unsteady gait, and we soon recognized him as an African maniac, of whom some of the Europeans of Hâifa had complained to the Governor, because he walked in the streets quite naked; in consequence of this he had been turned out of town. We passed him, and then he followed close behind us, muttering and making strange noises. It was not very pleasant
to have such an attendant. We turned sharply round and faced him, and then walked toward the town. He turned also, and preceded us. We were still among the tombs; and, in the rapidly-increasing darkness, it appeared the dreariest place imaginable—rocky and desolate, with tombs of all periods, some in the last stages of decay, falling and crumbling into strange shapes and heaps, others partially concealed by small, dark, evergreen oaks, and here and there was a newly-whitened sepulcher, which seemed to shine with a light of its own. The black man did not accompany us beyond this domain of death. When I looked back, and saw him standing there among the tombs, swaying himself and his scepter to and fro, I could not help thinking of the description, in the Gospel narrative, of that man who met Christ on the shores of the sea of Galilee, and "which had devils long time, and ware no clothes, neither abode in any house, but in the tombs."[4] I did not suppose that the poor African maniac was possessed of devils, but I thought that he might very likely be seized with the spirit of revenge; so I was glad to be out of his reach, and safe within the gates of the town.
- ↑ Did David allude to this custom—which is evidently a very ancient one—when he prayed for the physical prosperity of his kingdom and said, "May our daughters be as corner-stones, polished after the similitude of a palace?" It is only as brides or wives that they could be recognized as corner-stones, helping to build up the nation, and it is then that their faces are made to shine.
- ↑ This process is probably referred to by Ezekiel xxiii, 40. "Ye have sent for men to come from far; for whom thou didst wash thyself, paintedst thy eyes, and deckedst thyself with ornaments." And it is written that Jezebel "painted her eyes," or "put her eyes in painting." And Jeremiah says, in the fourth chapter and thirtieth verse, "Though thou deckest thee with ornaments of gold; though thou rentest thy face [or, as it should be written, thine eyes,] with painting, in vain shalt thou make thyself fair," etc. So we may regard the use of kohl as a very ancient custom.
- ↑ It seems to me that Sheikh Abdallah thus carried out, in its most extreme sense, the spirit of the injunction of Moses, not to take a woman's sister to wife "to vex her in her lifetime."
Abdallah would not even run the risk of marrying any two members of one family, or even two girls from the same town or village. He was shrewd and clever, and understood the disadvantages of such unions. When Moses gave the above law he was legislating for a people who, like the Moslems, practiced polygamy and recognized it as lawful. He in his wisdom may not have approved of it, but he tried to mitigate its evils and make the best of it. He had no doubt often witnessed, as I have done, the quarrels, disputes, and jealousies which arise in harems where the several wives of one man are nearly related to each other. The more remote the connection or relationship among the women in a harem, the more chance there appears to be of peace within its walls. - ↑ Luke viii, 27.