I must tell you a curious problem that arose — I hope you'll think I decided rightly. To-morrow Sir Henry gives an official dinner to the King, Cabinet and Advisors, a male dinner. He told me about it before I went to Babylon and I made no comment except approval. When I came back I found an invitation to myself and I went to him and asked him, as man to man, whether he wanted me to come. He said "yes of course if you won't feel smothered." I said I thought, as a high official in his office, I was sexless and that I ought to come and would. Sir Percy, on these occasions (levees and so on) always treated me simply as an official and I don't think there's any other way. So I'm going,
Jan. 3, 1924. I spent New Year's Day from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. receiving visitors. It was fatiguing but I felt rewarded when one of MY guests observed with satisfaction "the habits of the Khatut, are like ours — she sits at home on the Id to receive congratulations."
The dinner party at the Residency was a very small affair. I wore my best gown, our diamond tiara, Mother, and all my orders. Don't wish me back too much, life is being so interesting.
To H.B.
BAGDAD, Jam 9th, 1924.
...I don't think I quite agree as to the possibility of submerging civilization. We're too self-conscious, too analytical and we've got too many means of exposing our views. We've broadcasted civilization in a way the Romans couldn't — I think it has sown too many seeds. Nevertheless your letter was very interesting. I'm not the least sorry that Labour should come in. They'll learn that it's not an easy thing to govern a large empire and they'll learn, I hope, that they don't know the nature of team work and that govt. as far as the individual is concerned is always a compromise. No one permanently has things exactly his own way of thinking except the dictator or the tyrant, who is 'ex- hypothesi' excluded. But is he?
To H.B.
BAGDAD, Jan. 9th, 1924.
...I am planning on my way down to Ur a two days' jaunt by myself in the desert. I hope the scheme will come off. I want to feel savage and independent again for two days instead of being a Secretary in a High Commissioner's Office.
Mr. Woolley at Ur has been making wonderful finds and has written urgently to me to go down. So I'm going next Sunday, taking Kish en route — And I've a great scheme for visiting some mounds this side of Nasiriyah which I hope will come off.
To H.B.
BAGDAD, Jan. 22nd, 1924.
I'll tell you the human details of my tour of inspection. I left Bagdad on Sunday 13th with J. M. Wilson and we went by train to Hillah. It was grey stormy weather and there had been rain in the night. We arrived at Hillah about 2 p.m. and found a taxi to take us the 12 miles into the desert to Kish.
We began our adventures by falling into the first canal, just outside the railway station — at least our front wheel was well over the narrow bridge. However, I called up support from the station and we pushed the car over. As we went on it behaved in a fashion madder and madder. Finally when the car in the open plain, began to spin round like a teetotum J.M. declared that he would not risk his precious life any longer. On examination it was proved that the sole connection between the steerage and the front wheels was a wire which had snapped; I wandered off to look for help. Sure enough I found a boy walking from Hillah to Kish. I bade him go back to Hillah, tell the Administration Advisor or the Mutasarrif to send us a relief car, gave him an eye glass case to serve as an identification badge and relieved him of his cloak and kerchief full of pomegranates which he was carrying so that he might run quicker. He set off at a fast trot and I returned to J.M. We walked for an hour and a half through rain and mud, to Kish where we were welcomed by Professor Langdon and Mr. Mackay. No car subsequently turned up and consequently no baggage. We spent the time before dinner in looking at their wonderful finds, and after dinner in discussing ancient Babylon sites with Professor Langdon. And then we went to bed in tents and slept soundly — at least I did anyway.
Next morning there was a thick white mist which gradually cleared into bright sunshine. The boy turned up and said the Mutasarrif would send out no car until he heard further from me and he reclaimed his cloak and pomegranates. Accordingly I despatched another boy with a letter. We spent 3 hours walking over the site and examining the excavations. When we got back to the tents at 11 o'clock there was no car, so I climbed to the top of the zigurrat, hailed in 4 horsemen and requisitioned their horses, on two of which J.M. and I mounted and prepared to ride into s Hillah. But we hadn't gone ten minutes when we espied two cars, in one of which was the baggage. J.M. had by this time missed his train to Bagdad, but I had time to catch mine; so I jumped into the car and arrived without accident at Hillah.
Next day Tuesday 15th, my carriage was slipped at Khidhr Station before dawn. After an early breakfast I went down to the river, crossed in a ferry to Khidhr village and presented myself at the house of the Mudir, who provided me with a horse and escort to ride to Warka, which is Erah, the great Babylonian capital of the South. When we reached the mound we found quantities of people digging and rounded them up. They all screamed and cried when they saw me, but I gave them the salute and they were comforted. I said "Have you any anticas?" "No," they answered, "by God no." I observed, "What are those spades and picks for? I'll give you backsheesh for anything you have." At that a change came over the scene and one after another fumbled in his breast and produced a cylinder or a seal which I bought for the museum at a few annas. The people came from a little village, Hasyah, about a mile away and I sent them off to bring all that was there while I examined the mounds. They 'returned while I was lunching on the zigurrat and I bought a quantity of terra cottas. I rode to the village and then back to Khidhr and back to my carriage.
In the night I was carried down to Ur junction where I arrived at dawn on Thursday and walked out to Ur mound in the bitter cold of the early morning, to meet Mr. Woolley just coming back from the excavations to breakfast — a meal of which I partook heartily.
We spent the morning looking at their finds and at the excavations and the afternoon examining the Tall al Ubair site which gave me the greatest sensation, I think, which in archaeology I have ever experienced.
I left Ur on Friday night, got to Bagdad on Saturday afternoon and spent the whole evening up to 1 a.m. in writing my report.
On Sunday J. M. took me to the Ministry, where I deposited all that I had brought in the Museum.
Then I went to the house of Madame Jafar Pasha to attend a meeting of a women's club which is just coming into being. I am wholly in favour of it — it's the first step in female emancipation here.
Lionel Smith came to dinner to pour out his woes and be comforted by my tales of what happened to mankind 6,000 years ago. When you see their immensely old things your own troubles don't seem to matter.
We're longing to know who is to be S. of S. But already I find myself writing to him shadow-cast-before reports and despatches quite different from those I used to write to His Grace. It is curious — one insensibly finds oneself wanting to bring out different points, better ones often. I believe I shall feel at home with a Labour Government. I have written quite a good despatch to-day about Anglo-French relations I do hope Sir Henry will approve of it.
To H.B.
Feb., 1924.
This time Mother's letter has missed and I have yours of Jan. 22. Very interesting about the relay strike; I long to hear what you think of the settlement. Also a delightful analysis of your children, only the second thing that I am I can't read, so I remain only an Imperialist. Well, if I am, I contend that it's in the best sense for I've directed all my efforts to detaching a large kingdom — for the good of the Empire! Anyhow, you're sorely tried, to be sure, but I'm glad you're fond of us.
On Sunday I spent the morning at my museum editing the labels. This sort of thing: I pick up a little marble fragment of a horse's neck and mane and find it labelled thus "This is a portion of a man's shoulder, marble object."
"But," say I "does a man grow a mane on his shoulder?" "True, by God," murmurs
the Chalabi.
I forget what day it was that I was overtaken by an idea, but it came about this way. Col. Tainsh, Director of Rlys, came one morning to ask me who could possibly write a little account of all the places of interest you could get to by his railways — in view of the tourists who will come by car from Damascus, you understand. So I said I could, which was what he wanted. And thinking over it, I said (to myself) damn it all! Why shouldn't I write Murray's Guide for the Iraq. I began it that day, but I haven't so far gone on, except to write to john Murray about it. It's a good idea but I'm now rather taken aback to think of the amount of writing and writing that it will mean. What do you think?
Oh dear, I wish I weren't so cold.
To H.B.
Feb. 13th, 1924.
On Tuesday afternoon I pursued my explorations round Kadhimain. This time I was looking for a house described by Herzfeld with an Assyrian statue on its roof. I found the house, standing outside the town, but nothing on the roof. But as I rode round it I espied half an elephant planted on the top of the courtyard wall over the door. It's unusual to see half an elephant standing on a wall — it may be a hippopotamus; I don't think I can distinguish between the hindquarters of an elephant and a hippopotamus except by the size and this one was only 3 feet high — so I rode into the court and asked who lived there. It was a very tumbledown place and the proprietor, or rather caretaker, was to match; but when he appeared he greeted me with joy and announced that he had been the servant of Miss Cheesman and had often seen me before. He evidently thought that I had come to ask if I could do anything for him. I asked if there were an idol in the house. "Oh, yes," he said, and taking me into the inner court, lifted up a mat, and there was the Assyrian statue. It's very roughly blocked out but so like a statue of Semiramis that was found at Assam that Herzfeld thinks it may be no other than she. It is said to have been brought from Babylon. Only the upper part remains, down to about the waist. It seems to have bobbed hair; Sir Henry says it must be Semiramis as a flapper. But I must have it for my museum. This may be easy for the house belonged to the late Sir Iqbal al Daulah, a British subject, and I understand that we administer his property.
(I shall have the elephant; it was brought from India 60 Years ago by Sir Iqbal).
I rode home by the river through the gardens of Kadhimain.% over the ground on which stood the palace of Harun al Rashid, but I wasn't thinking so much of him as of the fact that spring had come (Haji Naji sent me apricot flowers last week) the grass growing so beautifully green along the water channels and the buds showing on the pomegranates. And this naturally made me want to grow and open too, things almost impossible to do in an office.
So that evening, I being at dinner with the King — the party Ken and me, the Joyces and Col. Vincent and Yasin Pasha — Zaid began arranging to go out shooting tomorrow, I said I would come too. We go in the afternoon by car to a place near Baquba where Zaid sends out tents, shoot the evening flight of ducks and the morning flight at dawn next day, and then anything we can get all day long and the evening flight at night; sleep in net tents again and motor back at dawn. Doesn't it sound nice.
It's rather warmer today. When I came in at 4 from the office I found Marie sitting in the garden looking like a female St. Jerome, with a needle for a book, a slughi dog for a lion and a tame red-legged partridge standing solemnly beside her instead of a quail.
To H.B.
BAGDAD, Feb. 20th, 1924.
On Sat. I had a hard day in the office — 8:30 to 6 as hard as I could go. But you know, Father, I really am glad I'm not one of the unemployed. I can hold up my head and tell people that I do an 8-9 hours' day. That's what I have been doing these days — there has been a fearful amount of work.
Unfortunately, as soon as I got out of the sun, the cold came back. I stayed in all Sunday and did a lot of work...A very cheerful evening only I felt rather ill...
However, Monday was the day for writing the report to the Sec. of State, so I had to be early and late in the office...Yesterday again there was a terrific rush at the office.
Today I felt really ill — I'm better this evening so don't be anxious. I spent the morning at the office writing eloquent memos and came home after lunch to write to you. Now I've got to draft before dinner H.E.'s despatch to General — -
Goodbye, I lead a life almost as full as yours and I can't say better than that.
To H.B.
BAGDAD, February 27th, 1924.
The sensation of the week is the elections, the results of which are coming out daily. Bagdad was declared on Monday. On the whole very good and such other reports as are in are good too...
I went with my minister to see the Bagdad orphanage. It's a very touching place, 85 boys from 6 to about 14 whom they've picked up in the streets. And there they all are, dressed as boy scouts, clean and tidy and being taught. The subscription lists are really wonderful.
Not money only is given — a bag of rice, a plate of cakes, people give what they can. And it's the first time it has ever occurred to any one in Bagdad to support a public institution of this kind and not to expect that dim entity, the Govt., to do it for him. They made a tremendous fuss about our coming, of course.
There were perturbations about my Sunday dinner party. I had asked a perfectly charming French traveller, Laurent-Vibert, a Lyonnais, He is going to translate Amurath into French — so he says.
To F.B.
BAGDAD, Feb. 28th, 1924.
Would you be so obliging as to buy me a sun helmet. It's not as easy as you think because I'm very fussy about them. I scarcely feel the sun and only use a helmet for riding and I like it exceptionally small and light. I've now found the place to go for it, Woodrow, 46 Piccadilly. It's to be covered with cream-coloured tussore — I hate drill ...
My guide book is being so exciting. The part I shall not like Is writing the introduction about the coinage being rupees and annas, and that kind of thing. However I haven't got to that yet.
Confidential. This is what Sir Henry has written to the Col. Office about me in his annual report on his officers:
It is difficult to write of Miss Bell's services both to the British and Iraq Govts. without seeming to exaggerate. Her remarkable knowledge of this country and its people and her sympathy with them enable her to penetrate into their minds, while her inextinguishable faith prevents her from being discouraged by what she sometimes finds there. Her long acquaintance with the tribes and sheikhs makes her advice in the recurring crises in tribal affairs invaluable and her vitality and width of culture make her house a focus of all that is best worth having in both European and Arab society in Bagdad. She is in fact a connecting link between the British and Arab races without which there would be dislocation both of public business and of private amenities.
To H.B.
BAGDAD, March 6th, 1924.
Oh dear, I've been so busy that I haven't written any letters and to- morrow is the mail. On Friday after lunch J. M. Wilson and I took the so-called express and went to Ur to do the division. We arrived at 5:10 a.m. on Sat. and Zaya having omitted to wake me, I had a bare half hour to get up and pack my bed and things. So I jumped up and put on my clothes, neither washed nor did my hair, and J.M. and I, with old Abdul Qadir, my curator walked out to Ur in the still dawn. It's about a mile. We arrived before sunrise, found no one up and went off to the Zigurrat to see the uncovered stair. It's amazing and unexpected, a triple stair laid against the Zigurrat with blocks of masonry between the stairways. It's latest Babylonian — Nabonidus, after Nebuchadnezzar — and must cover an Ur 3rd dynasty stair of which as yet we know nothing. We climbed up it to the top and watched the sun rise over the desert which was green with grass and covered with flocks and tents. By this time the workmen began to arrive, saluting us as Pasha (I'm going up in rank); and next Mr. Woolley, so we marvelled at the stair and all the rest and I went back to the house to wash, summarily and do my hair. By 8. 15 when breakfast was ready I felt rather as if I had been up since the creation o
f the world, or at least since the time of Nabonidus. However that wasn't what we had to think about. Before 9 we started the division (it began by my winning the gold scarab on the toss of a rupee) and we carried on till 12:30, when I struck. It's a difficult and rather agonizing job, you know. We sat with our catalogues and ticked the things off. But the really agonizing part was after lunch when I had to tell them that I must take the milking scene. I can't do otherwise. It's unique and it depicts the life of the country at an immensely early date. In my capacity as Director of Antiquities I'm an Iraqi official and bound by the terms on which we gave the permit for excavation. J.M. backed me but it broke Mr. Woolley's heart, though he expected the decision. I've written to Sir F. Kenyon explaining.
I took very little of the bronze; we can't preserve it properly, and I gave them their choice with the door post stones.
By this time it was 3 P.M. J.M., poor dear, retired to bed with fever, and Mr. Woolley and I, undaunted, went on alone. We finished after 5 p.m. and I went to tea feeling so broken that all I could do afterwards was to play Patience with Mr. Newton till 7 when I left to catch my train...
On Sunday I spent the whole day in the train writing the guide book to Bagdad, which I finished. I wrote 11 foolscap pages and then for the last 2 hours buried myself in a novel. We got in at 6:15, only 11 hours late.
On Monday I had to write the fortnightly report for the Sec. of State which took from 8: 15 till 5. So that was that.
I had a dinner party in the evening to meet a Mrs. Harrison, an American traveller and writer and an exceptionally brilliant woman.
[The following extract from a long article written by Mrs. Marguerite Harrison in the New York Times, shows, on the other hand, the impression made on her by Gertrude.
"When I was first in Bagdad in 1923 I had the privilege of seeing Gertrude Bell on many occasions and of having several long talks with her. The first time I met her was by appointment at her office in the Administration building of the High Commission near the British Residency — across the Tigris from the present City of Bagdad...
Letters From Baghdad Page 71