Seven Pillars as an Epic Poem: Oxford Ch. 10
Note: The chapters are broken differently and numbered differently in Oxford vs. Subscribers versions. This chapter follows the Introduction and begins Book I.
****** Upon the Lama Storrs and I crossed the Red Sea Aziz el Masri giving him good company With three non-English languages to skirt the fuss The seamen found us odd (as suited both of us) With Captain Scott on cooler decks I went to talk Of coral reefs and marine surveys on our walk
The heat that had been distanced by the cool sea air On reaching Jidda’s harbor caught us in the glare Of noonday sun with arid wind that stole our speech While mirage buildings floated up and down the beach
Our landing was auspicious: Hussein’s second son Sherif Abdulla newly to the town had come We walked through flies like squadrons in the soaking air Which gave the scarlet stain from Storrs’ red leather chair - Gained in four days on Lama’s deck - a varnished shine While sweat deepened the brown o’er all my khakis’ line
By sober Colonel Wilson in the Consulate (We’d argued once in Cairo over native kit) We were received: and soon after Abdulla came In noble fashion as perhaps befit his fame As mastermind of Hussein and of the revolt Though I had doubts: though he was cheerful as a colt Abdulla had a politician’s balanced care Humor, not Prophet’s fire, was his daily fare.
At first our talk landed on civil government A measure of which still retained a Turkish bent For towns, which were diverse, had certain different needs Than tribes all self-sufficient in tradition’s creeds But law, which heretofore was Turkish civil code, Had been replaced by Kadi, a Koranic mode (Abdulla joked that time would find that the Koran Freed modern practices, now under blanket ban.) This hurt the towns, but what they lost Beduin gained As it supported judgement styles they had retained
From musings on this rule o’er human frailty And all of Eden lost, Storrs now distracted me Asking Abdulla tell me how their forces stood So, swiftly serious, he gave news, none of it good His brothers, Feisal, Ali, Zeid, were all hampered A loss or two and soon defeat would be assured For Feisal in the hills had not enough supplies And Zeid and Ali stood among unsafe allies At this moment the Grand Sherif by telephone Joined to confirm surrender would not be condoned But rather he would die on wreck of rebel’s work Than cede the rule of Mecca’s shrines back to the Turk
To voiced concerns I made what few answers I could First, that the rail uncut they’d once called to the good Next, dynamite we sent had swiftly been returned Then, Feisal’s more specific needs we’d never learned As for a thought of help in a British brigade For Rabegh, ‘twould take time and give but little aid As none were Moslem, and just ships could do as well - Abdulla recalled here the loss at Dardanelles Had made a mess of British sea supremacy And shrugged we’d be there only temporarily As his own work would make Medina soon to fall So Arab volunteers could just replace us all.
I said I’d pass this on, but that he should expect Egypt’s resistance to extend what they protect Perhaps, though, were I to visit Rabegh myself, And, also, Feisal, all their needs might quit the shelf Storrs came in and supported me with all his might Declaring how Command would value my insight! Abdulla telephoned to ask the Grand Sherif Who showed mistrust: but Storrs did soon convince the chief Who bade Abdulla write me letters for the bunch - With all I’d wanted (half, for Storrs) we broke for lunch.
