The life, letters and work of Frederic Leighton. Volume IIBarrington, Russell, Mrs.
General
The life, letters and work of Frederic Leighton. Volume II
Barrington, Russell, Mrs.
Leighton of Stretton, Frederic Leighton, Baron, 1830-1896
the mounted cawass, a very picturesque Arnout on a very good
horse. _N.B._--Never come to the East again without an English
saddle; the back-board of a Turkish saddle is in the long run an
intolerable nuisance, as are also, though in a less degree, the
shovel-stirrups in which one's feet are imprisoned. In the
afternoon reached Sohag, a sail, or rather a steam, of three or
four hours, in time for a most pleasant evening's walk.
_Saturday, 21st._--Got to Syoot in the afternoon, and was very
glad to catch Lady Duff Gordon on her way up the river. Was
received with great hospitality by the American and Spanish
consuls, wealthy Copts of this town who kindly put their
carriages at my disposal and, better still, their
donkeys--splendid Arabian donkeys, looking, in their trappings,
like cardinals' mules. Nothing is more pleasant than the swift
amble of a good donkey from the Hejaz. Dined in the evening with
Mr. Wonista, the consul for Spain, quite "à la Franca" with
knives and forks and the whole thing. A curious house, and the
rooms small but of enormous height, so that they looked as if
they had been set _on end_ by mistake. The walls were bare
whitewash, but the furniture was of the most gorgeous brocade,
as were also the curtains; there was a European carpet all over
the floor and as many candles on the walls (in glass bells) as
in a _café chantant_. I met there a Scotch clergyman belonging
to the American Mission (Episcopalian) which is very active in
Egypt. After dinner the singer from Lady Duff Gordon's boat was
sent for, and in a short time arrived with some of the crew who
acted as chorus; it is this chorus, I find, that gives the
approving murmur after each strophe. He sang well, but his
performance of course lost three-fourths of its charm by not
being heard in its proper place and surroundings. I remember
once in the Sabine hills hearing unexpectedly at a distance, in
the silent dimness of night, the droning song of a _piffera_;
nothing could be more strangely pathetic than this voice rising
in the utter silence from out of the heart of the valley
below--yet those same sounds heard close in the broad daylight
would have seemed uncouth and strident. Arab singing has a
similar quality, and is equally dependent on time and place for
its full effect. Whilst the performance was at its height, and
the minstrel was tuning his note to the most ambitious
_fioriture_, I heard in the room overhead some European
part-singing of a melancholy order, and was informed that the
Scotch minister had been invited by a few proselytes to retire
upstairs "to worship and explain an obscure passage in the
Gospel." On the invitation of the master of the house, I went up
and joined the congregation, who thought it right to favour me
with another psalm.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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