Prince Pückler Muskau--His letter to Lady Hester Stanhope--Story of the Serpent’s Cave--Letter from Lady Hester to the Prince--Ride from Jôon to Sayda--Cadi’s Justice--Madame Conti--Syrian surgeons.
March 20.--Lady Hester rose about three in the afternoon, and went into her garden: I joined her about five o’clock. Spring had already begun to display its verdant livery. The weather was exceedingly fine, and every bush and tree seemed to have swollen with sap, buds, and leaves, so that the eye could perceive a palpable difference even from the preceding day. The birds were singing on every branch (for nobody dared to molest them in this sacred spot), and the bulbuls sat warbling a low but gentle music, which, now and then, was broken in upon by their clear whistle, falling in cadences on the ear like sweet concords. It was one of those hours which a man, who feels himself in the decline of life, or gradually sinking under disease, would most regret, in thinking that the harmony of nature must soon close on him for ever.
Lady Hester had placed herself in a small white alcove, which closed the vista at the bottom of a walk. A sofa, covered with marone-coloured cloth, with flowered chintz cushions, ran across the back of the alcove. On this she was leaning; and, being dressed in her white abah with its large folds, she looked exactly like an antique statue of a Roman matron. Half way up the avenue stood an attendant in a handsome white Nizàm dress, which is exceedingly becoming to youth, waiting her call. As I advanced towards her, between two hedges--the one of double jessamine in full bud, and the other of the bright green pervenche, or periwinkle-plant, with its blue flowers, forming an azure band from one end to the other, I was struck with the magical illusion which she ever contrived to throw around herself in the commonest circumstances of life.
As I approached, she addressed me with more cheerfulness than usual. “Do you know, doctor, that Prince Pückler Muskau is come to Sayda, and has written me a very agreeable, and what appears to be a very sincere, letter. Read it, and say what you think of it.” Translated, it was as follows:
Prince Pückler Muskau to Lady Hester Stanhope.
March 20th, 1838.
My Lady,
As I am aware that you are but little fond of strangers’ visits, from having often found they proceeded from idle curiosity, and sometimes even from more illiberal motives, I freely confess, madam, it is not without some degree of apprehension that, in my turn, I solicit permission to pay my respects to you. Permit me, nevertheless, to assure you that, for many years past, I have anticipated in fancy the pleasure of knowing you, and that it would be a downright act of cruelty on your part, if now, when the long wished-for moment is at last arrived, you should refuse me the happiness of paying my homage to the queen of Palmyra and the niece of the great Pitt.
Besides, madam, I have the presumption to add that, from what I have heard of you, there must exist some affinity of character between us: for, like you, my lady, I look for our future salvation from the East, where nations still nearer to God and to nature can alone, some one day, purify the rotten civilization of decrepit Europe, in which everything is artificial, and where we are menaced, in a short time, with a new kind of barbarism--not that with which states begin, but with which they end. Like you, madam, I believe that astrology is not an empty science, but a lost one. Like you, madam, I am an aristocrat by birth and in principle; because I find a marked aristocracy in nature everywhere. In a word, madam, like you, I love to sleep by day and be stirring by night. There I stop; for, in mind, energy of character, and in the mode of life, so singular and so dignified, which you lead, not every one that would can resemble Lady Hester Stanhope.
I close this letter, which already must appear too long to you, in earnestly entreating you not to set down as mere expressions the dictates of a heart artless and ingenuous, though old. I am neither a Frenchman nor an Englishman: I am but an honest and simple German, who perhaps lies open to the charge of too much enthusiasm, but never to that of flattery or insincerity.
[Signed] PRINCE OF PUCKLER MUSKAU.
PS. Should you consent to my coming, might I presume to beg of you still farther to allow me to bring Count Tattenbach, a young man in my employ, who would be so much hurt to see me set off without him that I am induced to risk the request! Although severely wounded from a pistol-shot, he would not remain at Acre, for fear of losing the opportunity of paying his homage to you: nevertheless, your will, my lady, and not mine, be done in everything.
When I had finished reading the letter, Lady Hester resumed: “Now, doctor, you must go and see the prince at Sayda, for I can’t see him myself. The fatigue is too great for the present; but I will engage him to return again when I am better. I could wish you to say many things to him; for I can see that he and I shall do very well together: besides, I must be very civil to him; for he has got such a tongue and such a pen! I think I shall invite him to come and see the garden and the horses; but you must tell him the mare’s back is not only like a natural saddle, but that there are two back bones for a spine; that is the most curious part.--But no! if he comes it will fill my house with people, and I shall be worried to death; it will only make me ill: so I’ll write to him after dinner.
“What I would wish you to talk to him about is principally the serpent’s cave. You must tell him that, at ten or twelve hours’ distance from Tarsûs, there is a grotto, where once lived an enormous serpent with a human head, such as he may have seen in paintings representing the temptation of Eve. This serpent was possessed of all the skill in demonology and magic known on earth. There was an ancient sage who was desirous of acquiring this serpent’s wisdom, which he knew could be come at by destroying the serpent: he therefore induced the king of the country in which the grotto is situate to enter into his views, and, by the king’s orders, the neighbouring peasantry were assembled for that purpose. The sage, who had given instructions that, in killing the serpent, they were to proceed in a particular manner, and that the head was to be reserved for him, stationed himself not far off: and when the peasants went as usual to carry his food, intending to seize a proper moment for effecting the destruction of so formidable a reptile, the serpent, being gifted with the power of speech, said, ‘I know what you are come for; you are come to take my life. I am aware that I am fated to die now, and I shall not oppose it: but, in killing me, beware how you follow the instructions which the wicked man who sent you gave--do exactly the reverse.’ The peasants obeyed the serpent; and, doing precisely the reverse of what the sage had enjoined them to do, the king too died, and thus met the reward of his treacherous conduct. Since that time no other serpent has appeared with a human head, but several are living in the same grotto, and they still are fed by the neighbouring villages, which send the food at stated times, and the people have opportunities of seeing them with their own eyes.
“You must tell the prince that this story is perfectly authentic, and that, since the time of Sultan Mûrad down to the present day, certain villages are exempted from taxes in consideration of providing sustenance for the serpents. As he naturally must wish to inquire into and see so remarkable a phenomenon, you may tell him that, if he puts himself into a boat, he can land at Tarsûs or Swadéya, and thence find his way a few hours’ distance farther, where the grotto is.”
I hung my head during the whole of this story, reflecting what a pretty errand I was going upon--to tell with a serious air a story so devoid of probability, and so likely to strengthen the supposition, common in England and elsewhere, that Lady Hester was crazy. She observed my ill-concealed incredulity, and bawled out rather than said, “Do you understand what I have been telling you? I suppose you’ll tell me I am mad. Do you believe these things or not? why don’t you answer?” As I remained mute, she said, “Well, will you repeat them to the prince as I have related them?” I answered, “Yes, I would do that.”--“But there,” said she, “go to dinner now, and come again in the evening: I suppose you are thinking more of your soup getting cold than of anything else.”
It was now sunset, and I found my family waiting dinner for me: but that was a very common occurrence, and excited no surprise. Having dined, I returned to Lady Hester. She was in the drawing-room, and she immediately renewed the subject of the grotto.
“The king’s name,” said she, “was Tarsenus--he gave the name to Tarsûs, or took his from it, I don’t know which. You must not forget to speak to the prince likewise of the dervises’ monastery, called Sultan Ibrahim, which is near Tripoli. He has only to present himself there, and use my name; they are all like my brothers; they have many learned men amongst them: if he wants a letter to them, I’ll give him one. As for the Ansaréas, the Ishmäelites, the Kelbëas, and all the sects on the mountains between Tripoli and Latakia, he will get nothing out of them; so it is of no use his trying. If he returns to Jerusalem, beg him not to extend his excursions towards the back of the Dead Sea, or beyond the Jordan; for, as he is known to be a friend of Mahomet Ali’s, some Arab behind a rock may pick him off, just out of spite to Ibrahim Pasha.”
Lady Hester went on. “Did you perfectly understand what I said before dinner about the serpents?” “Not altogether,” I replied. “Perhaps,” she observed, “you don’t like to go down to the prince?” I replied, anxious to seize any excuse for getting rid of the serpent story, “I can’t say I have any particular wish to go.”--“Why,” said Lady Hester, “you have done nothing but talk about him for these last five months; what was that for, if you don’t want to see him?”--“I talked about him,” answered I, “because I thought, from what I had read of his works, you would be pleased to see him, if he came this way?”
Lady Hester paused a little while, and then proceeded:--“Well, doctor, look here--you will talk a great deal about the serpents, and, when you can see a proper opportunity, and that nobody is likely to hear you, you will say to the prince in a low voice, ‘Lady Hester recommends you to make some inquiries about the serpents’ cave[1] when you are at Beyrout; for near to Tarsûs is Kolôok Bogàz, where Ibrahim Pasha’s army is encamped: you will probably like to see it, and this will be a good excuse, as everybody then will fancy you had no political motive for going there.’”
The mystery was out; for two or three months Lady Hester had been introducing the story of the human-headed serpent into her conversations; for two or three months she had known of Prince Pückler Muskau’s coming; for the same period I had entertained apprehensions that her reason was impaired: M. Guys had been primed in the same way, and formed the same conclusions; and all turned out to be one of those long-laid plots, for which she was so famous, to save the prince from being considered as a spy in the dangerous neighbourhood of two hostile armies.
