Ap. 13. [13 April 1914] Feluja [Fallujah, Al]. I'm off, but I have not got
very far as yet, and I am engaged in wondering whether I shall get any
further, today at any rate. There was a battle royal with 'Ali yesterday
in Baghdad. Over nothing at all. He disobeyed orders, sulked and
called the camels back which I had despatched to Feluja to await my
arrival today. I did not know of the last unprecedented piece of
villainy till this morning or I would have dismissed him at once. For
having issued my commands and told Fattuh to see that they were
carried out, I went picknicking [sic] with the Tods up the river and was
not to be found when Fattuh came back to report progress. So he did
the best he could, got the camels off at last and Ali with them (they had
heaps of time to reach Feluja by midday) and came at 5 AM with a
carriage for me. We got here at 1 - no camels, no 'Ali, no anything. It's
now 4 and I ought to have been 2 hours out into the desert by this time,
pitching tents. 'Ali is extraordinarily tiresome; I have had bother with
him before. He is like a naughty child; he never does a stroke of work
and is quite irresponsible. But he is very useful as a tongue among
the tribes; he knows them and is known by them. And I privately value
him for a certain quality of the imagination which he has - it pleases
me. Yet I'm afraid I shall have to get rid of him - now, if no good
explanation is offered. And anyhow I fear I can't take him with me
again. He is too capricious, and disobedient like a naughty child.
Behold my writing to you has brought good luck! I see the camels at
the other end of the bridge. Let justice be done! I must go and
struggle with 'Ali, the kind of job I hate. The camels, for their part, hate
crossing the bridge and Euphrates rolls along and doesn't care what
happens to any of us. Why should he? we don't matter and he has
got to think of his floods and of how to reach the sea. In camp. Well, I
continue. 'Ali came in, in the devil's own temper and I dismissed him
on the spot. He has had enough money from me (advanced) to cover
his wages for the journey, without bakhshish, and with that I left him to
find his way back to Baghdad. And I shall be suprised if I can't find my
own way across the Syrian desert. We picked up a gentleman in the
khan to take us out to the nearest Dulaim shaikh and off we went. But
we did not go to the shaikh. He was a couple of hours away and it
was late and my friend suggested that we should camp with him - he
is a Dulaimi too. His tents lay on our way, half an hour from Feluja,
and here we pitched camp. 'Ali has already turned up once. I have
exacted a full apology and he has left. I expect he will come back, but
if he does not I don't care. There is a big Dulaim shaikh upon our
road tomorrow and I will get a rafiq from him. \n\nThis is the bit of my
other travel diary which I tore out when I sent the latter to you - do you
notice. I have begun it at the wrong end, however, because it has a
sort of cover this end to protect the written pages. Afterwards you will
be able to put the two together, notwithstanding, and keep it, if you
want, as one little book. Bother I have left out two pages - I shall go
back on them when I finish this page. \n\nMy party now is Fattuh,
Fellah the negro, and Sayyif the Sherari. Fellah, you remember has
come with since Damascus [Dimashq (Esh Shams, Damas)], and
Sayyif since Ziza [Jiza]. I have 8 camels, because we did not find a
good market in Baghdad and could not sell 2 of those we brought up
from Hayil [Hail]. They have scarcely anything to carry except us, for
we are travelling very light. I have left all my baggage in Baghdad to
back to London by sea. I have a very small and light native tent, with
my bed in a Wolseley valise, and one chair - that's all I have except a
bagful of clothes. I could not abandon quite all my possessions
because I shall want them on the journey to Constantinople [Istanbul].
Besides there was no reason for it - the camels are scarcely loaded
at all. The men have another very light native tent. We have taken
provisions for 3 weeks and a minimum of cooking pots. My one luxury
is my canvas bath! It's hot now, you know, and it will serve to water the
camels in if necessary. The camels are not drinking now {at all}
much; they will not drink till the fresh grass is withered. They are
casting their winter coat - it comes off in great handfuls and they look
most abandoned. This is not desert; my bed lies on grass and the
Euphrates is 10 minutes away. But it is out under the open sky again
and at once my heart leaps to it. I like my tiny tent and in theory I like
my bed on the ground, but I shall soon weary of that, I know! (Oh Dick!
our poor bones! when we lay them at last in our graves, how they will
ache.) Here comes the great procession of the stars - Sirius sparkled
out long ago - here is the Great Bear with his eternal interrogations,
and the sicle [sic] of Leo - all my friends. The Twins, and there is
Capella's lovely face half veiled in heat haze; Aldebaran, and above
me Procyon - a thousand welcomes! \n\nYesterday the Tods and I
picnicked - I told you. We borrowed the launch of Abd al Qadir
Pasha Qudairi - who holds all Baghdad in the hollow of his hand and
has made friends with me because I was friends with Nazim Pasha
whom he loved - and steamed in blazing heat up nearly to Qazimain
[Kadhimain (Al Khazimiyah)]. There we got out and had tea on the
bank under flowering tamarisks. Arab children brought us handfuls of
roses, the keleks floated down the full stream, the sun sank and all the
world was transmuted and its glory reflected in the river. We dropped
slowly down stream - Baghdad was like a fairy city shimmering
through the heat haze; the afterglow of sunset showed nothing but
beauty. And in the dark we dropped down to 'Abd al Qadir's house
and went in to thank him and say goodbye. It was a wonderful end to
Baghdad. But do you know Baghdad has gone to the dogs.
Everyone drinks, Sayyids, Shaikhs, everyone is drunk, and gambles
half the night through over the 'araq, and spends the other half with
Jewish dancing girls. They make mints of money, these dancing
girls, and they are horrible beyond belief, I'm told - the basest
creatures. It has all, or most of it, come about in the last four years,
since the age of liberty. It is liberty and civilization. Yet I have a
feeling that Baghdad has taken to this kind of civilization so quickly
and so wholeheartedly because it is a return to what she knew in the
gorgeous days of the Khalifate. Not the 'araq, perhaps, but the
dancing girls and the rest. Have your read d'Annunzio's wonderful
play, the Citta' Morta? It is an imaginary picture of the digging up of
Mycenae. And as they dig, the ancient evils rise up out of their
graves, they are set free again and seize on those who freed them -
the old sins, the bitter hatreds and fierce passions - do you remember
that I told you these must be immortal if anything lives? And you said
No, they faded. Well, they have not faded in Baghdad; they have
come out of their graves, and men and women go reeling and
dancing, drunken, down to perdition. It's horrible isn't it? grave
Baghdad turned into this ugly rout. I must go to bed - it's past 8
o'clock and camp hours are early. So to my bed on the ground.