LATE MISS G. BELL

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XVII, 21 November 1927, Page 7

LATE MISS G. BELL

WOMAN OF THE DESERT “MOTHER OF THE FAITHFUL.” HER LAST LETTERS. The late Miss Gertrude Bell, an English girl, during the war earned the title of ' ‘ The Mystery Woman of the Desert” owing to her daring work on the Intelligence Stalf in Mesopotamia. Her letters, published recently, throw new sidelights on her amazing and adventurous career.

In the autumn in 1917 an Arab chief summoned his sheiks and read to them a letter from Gertrude Bell. When he had finished, “Oh, sheiks,” ho cried ‘ ‘ this is a woman. What must the men be like?

That Arab, Fanad Bey, expressed not merely his own opinion but the general Arab opinion about Gertrude Bell. She had by that time won for herself an almost magical reputation among this people, so difficult to understand, so suspicious of Europeans, so unaccustomed to women taking part in public life. She kept that relast year. The Arabs called Miss Bell the “Mother of the Faithful”; the last person who bor e that name was the wife of te Prophet Mahomet. When, after an absence, she returned to Bagdad, streams o'f people went to see her. “Light of our lives ” they said.

When Feisal became King of Iraq he gave Miss Bell the command of a regiment, “Khatun’s Own.” One of his Ministers proposed that she should have an army corps. WORK IN MESOPOTAMIA. Miss Bell was constantly consulted by- Arab notables. “What do you think, Khatun?” they would say. “It will be dreadfully flat when I return to London,” she wrote playfully to her father, “not to be consulted about all Cabinet appointments.” British officials were nq less enthusiastic about the value of her work in Mesopotamia. One of them said, “It is difficult to write of Miss Bell’s servidbs both to the British and Iraq Governments without seeming to exaggerate. Her long acquaintance with the tribes and sheiks made her advice invaluable. She is a connecting link between the British and Arab races.’’ So wrote Sir Henry Dobbs. H e was echoing what had been said by his predecessor. Sir Percy Cox. Gertrude Bell was a daughter of Sir Hugh Bell, the Middlesbrough ironmaster, once a famous Freetrade controversialist, and of Lady Bell the witty writer of books and plays,' who has edited in two volumes. “The Letters of Gertrude Bell.” These letters will live becaus e ‘bey give a vivid picture of a strong and delightful personality. A PASSION FOR TRAVEL. Fortunate in being able to indulge her passion for travel, Gertrude Bell early made acquaintance with Arab lands. They fascinated her from the first. The Euphrates was to her “th e beloved river.” She was comforted and sustained by “the eternal beauty of the earth and the simple country life.” In “the incredibly narrow, crooked streets of Bagdad the leaves almost touch overhead and the streets wind in and out of them,” she had a warm feeling of being part of it till.” She thus describes with rapture “the lovliest Oriental scene when she was having tea with King Feisal in his garden:—“He was sitting near a fountain in full Arab dress, the white and gold of the Mecca princes. Sitting on the stone lip of the fountain were three of the great chiefs of the desert. . . . Everywhere round them, tossed over the fountain edge, lying in swathes in the garden beds, gold and orange marigolds—waves and waves of them with the white and yellow of chrysanthemums above them, echoing to

King’s white and gold. And the low sun sending long, soft beams netween the wollow birches and the palms brushing the gold and the orange, the white and yellow, into a brighter glory. Such a talk we had, too, of the desert and its secular strife.’ ’

Of the distressing heat in Bagdad Miss Bell complains so picturesquely that she makes her readers almost feel the humid oppression of it. Anri in the winter she suffered almost as much from cold. Food was difficult, too. At Basra there was only tinned milk and tinned butter. When she was moved to Bagdad they were fresh. How she revelled in such luxury. “A bowl of sour curds is my lunch, and it’s th e nicest possible in this weath er.” Her hardships told on her health. Yet she would not hear of leaving her post. She worked, and broke down, got better, wore herself out again. One day Miss Bell’s Arab cook made some little sausages. Always anxious to enlarge her vocabulary, she asked him what was their name in Arabic. “These?” he said. “In Arabic their name is ‘sossigis. ’ ” AT THE RACES IN BAGDAD. She was always a jolly, lovable human being, and she was always a woman. Sh e writes often about clothes. She liked pretty dresses. She sends thanks for “A lace evening gown, a white crepe gown a stripy blue muslin gown, two skirts, and a stripy silk gown, all most suitable and the last superlatively right. ... 1 may mention that I was very smart at the races in Bagdad in a Paris hat and gown—it’s really quite nic e to dress up for once, a thing 1 haven’t done for months'. A reviewer says:—“As one reads Miss Bell’s letters, which mirror her soul, on e likes her 'more and more. AVhat she did is part of history. What she was, the world outside the circle of her friends now learns for the first time. She stands revealed as one of the great characters of her age.