A Confederate Soldier in Egypt [Electronic Edition]

PART I.
EGYPT.

Sketch Map of Egypt, Abyssinia and the Soudan, Showing Points of Importance in Recent Military Affairs

CHAPTER I.
ALEXANDRIA.

The mysterious past of Egypt—The Nile in the religious symbolism of the
country—The colossal ruins and strange political mutations of Egypt—
The traveller's first impressions—Mariette Bey and the Boulac Museum
—Recent changes in Egyptian character—Alexandria and its surroundings
—An Egyptian funeral—The ruin wrought by English policy in the
past and present—How Christian England is completing the evil work
of Mahometan misrule.

THE first impression of every traveller who lands in
Egypt is that the country is strangely unlike any other in
the world; and he who tarries long, making Egypt his
home for years, as the present writer did, finds that impression
strengthened with every day's increased knowledge.
No other country has a history so ancient or so remarkable.
Thousands of years before any other nation had civilized
existence, Egypt was the scene of great events, the records
of which have come down to us in stone. Babylon and
Nineveh, Greece and Rome, copied their religion and borrowed
their science and their learning from this ancient and
mysterious land. Here was the primeval repository of
learning and civilization. From this source all other
ancient peoples drew the inspiration of advancement and
gathered strength for great achievements. There is reason
to believe that the very earliest civilization that mankind
knew had its centre in the rich valley of the Nile.

That great river, deified by the early Egyptians in sheer
wonder at its fertilizing power, cleaves in its course five
thousand miles of desert. Without its miracle-working
alluvium, the valley lands which are now a garden of marvellous

fruitfulness would speedily become an arid waste.
The bounty of the Nile lands is the wonder of every traveller;
and this fruitfulness is guarded by the Mokattum and
Libyan hills as by nature's sentries. On those hills the
desert winds are broken, and the valley is thus preserved
from the choking drift of sand which would otherwise cover
its fair surface, converting it—in spite of the inundations—
into a desolate plain.

To the primitive Egyptians water was the obvious source
of life, the necessary agent of the earth's fruitfulness; the
Nile was their benefactor and the chief of their divinities.
Their conception of it gave to the great river a human form,
in which the characteristics of both sexes were combined.
To make it still more typical of observed facts, they covered
this figure with the leaves of various plants in the
form of a great rainbow. The office of this Nile numca was
to make offerings to the great gods of Egypt, in the name
and behalf of the Pharaohs. Before this Nile god were set
four vases containing the sacred water, each separated from
its fellows by a sceptre. By every fact of life and every
device of symbolism the people were taught reverence for
the Nile, and it taxed their imaginations very little to
invest the river with so holy a character that a person
drowned in its waters was held to be sacred. The corpse,
in such a case, could be touched and embalmed only by the
priests at the expense of the temple specially dedicated to
the god of the Nile.

Standing on the main heights of the Libyan and Mokattum
hills and surveying the seemingly boundless desert
through which the Nile courses, the spectator is impressed
with the awful grandeur and solitude of the scene. In contemplating,
too, the great ruins beneath these hills which
fringe the silver thread of the river from the Pyramids to
Isamboul, the mind is still more awed by the stupendous
structures which the genius of man has raised there. The
wealth of the Nile waters and the aridity of the deserts

bordering the stream gave rise to the beautiful fable of the
ancients that Osiris—that was the river, the greatest of all
the Egyptian gods—had for his spouse the sweet and lovely
Isis, who represented the fruitful Earth. The desert they
embodied in Nepthis, another interesting divinity, whom
they made the sterile spouse of Typhon, the god of rain.
They held, further, that Nepthis could only be made beneficent
through the power of Osiris.

Amrou, the Mussulman conqueror of Egypt, in a letter
written twelve hundred years ago to Omar the Khalif, well
described the extraordinary changes wrought by the inundations:
“To the most abundant harvest succeeds sudden
sterility. It is thus that Egypt offers successively,
O Prince of the Faithful, the image of an arid and sandy
desert, of a liquid and silvered plain, of a marsh covered
with black and thick soil, of a green and undulating prairie,
of a parterre ornamented with flowers the most varied, and
of a vast field covered with a golden harvest. Blessed be
the name of the Creator of so many marvels!”

More than twenty years since, after visiting the different
kingdoms of Europe and while in the interior of Russia,
where intercourse between the people of Asia and Europe
is constant, the writer became specially interested in the
peculiar habits, customs, and dress of the Eastern nations.
He then determined, before returning home, to visit Constantinople,
Damascus, and, Cairo, where the Oriental can
be seen and studied better perhaps than in any of the
other great capitals of the East. The interest engendered
more than twenty years ago has been more recently deepened
and intensified by a long official residence in Egypt;
and the experience thus gained may, it is hoped, interest
the reader.

The traveller landing in Alexandria looks on a city of
which Ampère graphically says: “It was founded by
Alexander, defended by Cæsar, and taken by Napoleon.”
Embellished by Ptolemy, it became the most famous city

of its day; but, suffered to fall into decay under Christian
and Mussulman rule, it is only in these latter days that it
has again arisen from its dejection under the inspiration of
Mehemet Ali and his successors, but more especially
under his grandson, Ismail Pacha.

The last twenty years had done wonders for Alexandria,
until recent Christian diplomacy laid the fairest portions of
the city in black and unsightly ruins. Entering the port,
formerly an open roadstead, a beautiful revolving light, on
the site of the ancient Pharos, guides the seafarer into one
of the finest harbors in the Levant. To Ismail Pacha the
country is indebted for this surprising change. He it was
who constructed the grand and costly breakwater which
incloses numerous solidly built quays. The harbor is filled
with shipping which anchors in perfect safety, thanks to
the energy of the late Khedive. At the landing the
familiar Oriental scenes are encountered. That very questionable
product of modern civilization, the tide waiter, is
here. The guttural tones of the Arab, intent on his piastre,
drowns all other noises, and the traveller is but too glad to
get under the patronizing protection of his dragoman, a
nondescript and objectionable but necessary person, who
pushes him into a carriage.

Though amused with his first impressions of the picturesque
Oriental scene, the traveller, unaccustomed to the
din of a people unlike any he has ever encountered before,
is delighted to get away from the noise and turmoil. He
congratulates himself on this, his first visit to Egypt, on
having made his way safely through the greatest confusion
of tongues and the most dissonant screeching and yelling
with which his ear has ever been assailed. Proceeding
further his amusement increases as he passes through the
narrow Arab streets lined with small shops, and his joy is
complete when he finds himself quietly seated at his fine
European hotel, where he can breathe freely and leisurely
retemper his nerves for another essay among these people.

It does not take him long to gain a realizing sense of the
fact that he is in the East, in the midst of a race totally
different from his own in customs, color, dress, and religion.
Having fought his first battle and won it by a masterly
retreat, he finds his new acquaintances harmless and
amiable, extremely anxious to serve him, always provided
the piastre is at once forthcoming. This understood, he
sallies forth with renewed energy to new scenes and
encounters, and is greatly delighted that the fates have
guided him to this distant land. Next he is astonished at
the broad, well-paved streets of the new city, with its
colossal statue of Mehemet Ali in the grand square, and
its stone buildings which would beautify any European city.
There is one nuisance which meets him at every turn—
namely, the traditional beggar, whose cry for backsheesh is
agonizing and whose deformity—which the Arab petitioner
thinks a blessing—is painfully obtruded upon attention.
Soon, however, one learns the magic Arab expression
“Rue al Allah” (“Go to the Lord”), which acts like a
charm and sends the beggar flying as though the Khedive
himself were after him with uplifted kourbash.

It is difficult to convey an idea of the impressions made
upon one by early experiences in this strange land. One is
haunted by a persistent but indefinable sense of the greatness
of the race that inhabited it ages ago, whose works on
every hand attest their prodigious energy, industry, and
skill.

As painters differ in the chosen subjects of their art—one
being enamored of the human face or form, another of
beauty in landscape—so the visitors to such a land as
Egypt differ in the choice of objects upon which to bestow
their attention. Human kind in the present, the evidences
of what was done by human kind in the remote past, the
phenomena of nature, the monuments of art—all these and
other subjects of interest are there, and each visitor is
affected by one or another of them according to his mood.

I have seen one in love with nature absorbed in the peculiarities
of a desert flower, or forgetful of all else in contemplation
of a nest of ants in the very shadow of the Pyramids.
In a land so rich in interest of every kind, no one
mind can hope to grasp all or do justice to all. Each must
see as it is given him to see, and each must submit to his
limitations In recording the observations made during a
long and intimate acquaintance with Oriental and especially
with Egyptian life, therefore, I ask the reader's indulgence
not only for the infelicities of a hand better used to the
sword than the pen, but also for any apparent slighting of
matters in which the individual reader may feel special
interest. Seeing with but one pair of eyes and led by but
one set of sympathies, the writer can scarcely hope that his
observations have always taken precisely the direction
which each reader could wish.

Most noteworthy are the changes wrought in Egypt
during the last ten years, and they are all in favor of the
traveller and the student. Ismail turned modern science
to account in working improvements almost as wonderful
as those wrought in fable by Eastern magic. He beautified
the villages and made the cities wonders of splendor
and magnificence. He brought the ruins that lie scattered
for hundreds of miles along the Nile within easy accessibility
by dahabeeyah and steamer, making the journey
even to the remotest of them easy and speedy. He stayed
the hand of prying chippers and mutilators and relichunters,
and instituted scientific excavation and investigation
in the stead of mere idle curiosity. In his devotion to
this purpose and his zeal for knowledge, the late Khedive
appointed as sole conservator of the ruins of Egypt, Mariette
Bey, a man of world-wide reputation as a scientific and
single-minded archaeologist. Under his care the Museum
at Boulac, near Cairo, has been filled with objects of the
rarest interest, selected and arranged with such care and
skill that the intelligent student may there read the records

of the human race, on stone and papyrus, almost from the
earliest dawn of history. But of the museum and of
Mariette Bey's work we shall have occasion to write more
fully hereafter.

Among the changes wrought by Ismail's policy, not the
least interesting is the improvement in the character of the
fellah. In his former estate he submitted to kicks and
cuffs without a whimper, accepting ill-treatment as his due.
Long ages of oppression had effectually crushed the manhood
out of him. The change in this respect has been
great. The Arabs have begun to feel their manhood and
to assert themselves in various ways—mostly noisy, as the
traveller is reminded every day. They do not talk, they
scream. Seeing a pair of them in apparent altercation,
swinging their arms, seeming to threaten each other with
immediate destruction, yelling, screaming, with distorted
faces and snapping eyes, the bystander fancies their fury to
be such that nothing but blood can appease their wrath.
Upon inquiry he finds that all this is a harmless harangue
preliminary to a bargain. Among themselves all these
Eastern people are given to loud talking. Of late they
have gone so far as to assert their rights by boxing-matches
with Europeans, when refused the piastre agreed upon,
where before they were ready to take a kicking as a settlement
in full of all claims.

Other changes of a less pleasing character have been
made in Egypt, however, by one of which our own country
has profited in a questionable way. In former times the
so-called Cleopatra's Needle was the first object of interest
to the traveller landing at Alexandria; but now the land
that knew it for three thousand years will know the great
obelisk no more. It seems a sad desecration to have
removed from the land where it had significance to a park
where it has none, a shaft written of by Herodotus, which
had looked down upon the achievements of Alexander,
Cassar, and the great modern captain, Napoleon. One of

England's poets bitterly rebuked his countrymen for plundering
Greece of her marbles in gratification of a selfish
vanity; and now even America “violates a saddened
shrine,” and bears to her shores one of Egypt's altars.

Pompey's Pillar, the only monument now left standing
to link Alexandria with the past, was not named after the
great warrior, but after a Prefect of Alexandria, who
erected it by order of the people in honor of Diocletian's
clemency. The destruction of Alexandria had been ordered,
but the Emperor's horse stumbled on a hill, and,
anxious to save the city, he seized upon this omen as an
excuse. This magnificent monument of red granite, one
hundred feet high, was erected on this sole commanding
eminence in or near the city.

Alexander, who conquered all the country east of the
Mediterranean Sea, turned to account the advantages of
the bay, where stood the ancient fishing-village of Racotis.
He conceived the idea of a new and splendid city at the
mouths of the mud-choked Nile, to be the great mart between
the Greek mainland and archipelago and the ancient
kingdom of the Pharaohs. This was to be the crowning of
his plan of a great Greek empire. The legend runs that in
323 B.C. the oracle of Ammon-Ra informed the Macedonian
madman that he was the son of the gods, and that in the
future, as in the past, he would be invincible. Enchanted,
he returned from his visit to the shrine determined to build
a great city on this site and to give it his own name. It
will be recollected that there is another legend of a venerable
old man appearing to the Macedonian in a dream and
repeating the lines of Homer (Od. w. 545):

“One of the islands lies in the far-foaming waves of the sea,
Opposite Egypt's river, and its name is Pharos.”

There is but little left of the past grandeur of the mighty
city, only here and there the fragment of a column deeply
imbedded in the earth; while the modern city, with its

The Obelisk now in Central Park, New York, as it Stood in Alexandria, Egypt.

stately structures and teeming population, covers the
ground where stood the temples, palaces, and museums of
the Ptolemies and Cæsars. Not being a city of the earlier
Pharaohs, Alexandria has scarcely anything within its
borders to remind you of the ancient people. A few stones
among its débris tell you in hieroglyphics that they came
from the Delta of the Nile to aid in the construction of the
museums and seats of learning of a later day. The imagination
readily carries one back to the days of the city's
splendor described by the earlier writers, and sees the bold
Origen mingling with the Egyptian priests and distributing
palms near the gates of the temple of Serapis to Pagan and
Christian while exclaiming, “Receive them not in the
name of the gods, but of the one and only true God”; the
myrmidons of Julian dragging the Christians to the altar
and immolating them for refusing to worship the god
Serapis; and then again the Christians under Theodosius
breaking the mosaic doors, overturning and destroying
beautiful objects of art because they were called idols.
The temple, with its hundred steps, was a noble specimen
of Greek art. It was destroyed in the year 389 A.D. by
Theophilus, Patriarch of Alexandria, in a frenzy of religious
fanaticism. The god to whom the temple was dedicated
was an invention of the Greek Ptolemies. In this god the
wrangling Greek and Egyptian priests had a divinity at
whose shrine they could forget their quarrels in a common
worship. Serapis was a compound of the Pluto of the
Greeks and the Osiris of the Egyptians, and as both of
those personages were inhabitants of the infernal regions,
the religious zeal of the wranglers was satisfied.

A picturesque structure built by Mehemet Ali, though
devoid of much architectural beauty, stands on a small
island once surrounded by the sea but now a part of the
mainland. It is called the Ras el Tin (Head of the Fig),
because of its resemblance to that fruit. Part of it was
destroyed by English cannon shot in the recent war. It is

the first object observed on entering the harbor, and stands
upon the island of Pharos, the same upon which stood the
ancient lighthouse of that name.

There is another palace west of the city known as Gabara,
beautifully situated on a neck of land between the sea and
Lake Mareotis, which commands a fine view. It is picturesque
because of its massive rotunda, domes, and marble
mosaic terraces. Erected for the summer palace of Saïd
Pacha, the former Viceroy, its large rooms and galleries
were expensively decorated, and its façade was of wonderful
beauty. The surroundings were embellished with fountains
and gardens, and planted with rare flowers, exotics,
and fruit trees. This prodigal man covered several acres of
ground in front of this palace with an iron pavement, in
order that he might escape the dust on his elevated terrace
while watching the drill of his favorite Nubians. It was
here, when in command of Alexandria, that for a long time
I had my headquarters.

This palace to the south-west of Alexandria was the
ancient site of the Necropolis of the Ptolemies. They, like
the ancient Egyptians, embalmed their dead. Time and
modern improvements have swept away from this interesting
locality the last vestige of the past, and the Arab has
not the slightest idea of its former use. I recollect one
night conversing on the subject with an intelligent Arab,
who had never before heard that this was the resting-place
of countless dead. Just then an owl on one of the huge
acacias near by gave an ominous screech, and my companion
trembled with fear while his dilated eyes expressed great
agony of spirit. He insisted that the owl was a genius
embodying the spirit of Saïd, the Viceroy who had lived
here. At the next screech my companion fled, upsetting
chairs and tables and smashing my astral lamp. This
accelerated his speed, convincing him that the evil spirit
was pursuing him. I tried to overtake him, but he was
soon lost to sight, and the only sound disturbing the stillness

of the night was the clattering of his heels over the
iron pavement which the folly of the earthly Viceroy had
put there for his comfort. The Arabs believe that they are
surrounded by good and bad genii, and darkness is a terror
to them. They never sleep alone, if they can help it, and
always burn a light at night. They even burn torches in
their stables to protect the animals. An Arab never enters
a solitary or dark place without supplicating the presiding
genius to guard him against the spirits under his orders.
The ancient Egyptians, Mariette Bey writes, always had
their city of the dead close by the side of their city of the
living, and it was uniformly situated to the west. In
speaking of the ruins of ancient Egypt which I have visited,
I shall enlarge more fully upon this interesting theme, as
well as upon their religion, so intimately connected with
it. This custom rested on a very sacred belief, as they
placed in the region where the sun sets the dwelling-place
of their souls after death, expressing both by the word
Amenti.

Driving out through the Rosetta Gate, on the road which
leads to the famous old city of Canopus, you come to comparatively
high hills, formed to a great extent by the débris
of the ancient city. On one of these heights, about three
miles out, there are two new palaces, beautifully situated
immediately on the sea and commanding a picturesque view
of the surrounding country.

These palaces, adorned with lavish magnificence, surrounded
by luxuriant gardens, and fanned by refreshing
breezes from the sea, are the most desirable summer residences
in Egypt. The first season, about 1875, that the
Khedive occupied them with his numerous harem, a great
affliction overwhelmed him and his family in the death of
his daughter, Zaneeb, a most interesting and beautiful
young lady who was just married. Cairo being the mausoleum
for Egyptian royalty, every preparation was made to
vacate these palaces at once. The corpse was carried in

great state to a train to be conveyed to the tomb at Cairo.
It was preceded by numbers of men called the “Yemeneeyah,”
who recited the profession of faith to a melancholy
strain, “There is no deity but God; Mahomet is God's
apostle; God bless and save him.” They were followed by
the present Khedive, then a prince, accompanied by a
number of Pachas and Beys and other distinguished personages;
then came several boys carrying the Mushaf (Koran)
on a support covered with an embroidered handkerchief,
and chanting verses from the poem called “Hashieeyah,”
descriptive of events of the last day and judgment. These
marched in front of the bier, which was a long box with a
roof, resembling in make and size the mummy-case of the
ancient Egyptians. Ordinarily the Egyptians bury simply
in winding-sheets. The bier on this occasion was covered
with rich Cashmere shawls. An upright piece at the head
was also covered by a shawl and surmounted by a lace
head-dress ornamented with glittering gems. The bier was
borne upon the mourners' shoulders, a goodly number of
veiled women following, but not with the lamentations customary
at funerals. There were, however, terrible shrieks
coming from the carriages of the ladies of the harem, the
friends and relatives of the dead princess, who were passing
at the time, and their cry of “Zaneeb!” the name of the
young lady, was heard in the most piteous sobs. Numbers
of camels, loaded with bread, dates, and other food for the
poor, walked in front and on the sides of the cortège.
Their burdens were distributed to the crowds of Arabs
assembled to witness the procession. Arriving at the station,
all male spectators were inclosed in the salon, so that
the Queen and the ladies accompanying her might pass into
the cars unobserved. Subsequently, while I was standing
on the platform near Tewfik in the midst of a great crowd,
one of those occurrences happened which sometimes mar the
solemnity of such an occasion. Alone in front of the vast
and silent assembly on the opposite side of the track stood

two enormous Arab fellahs in the tarboosh and blue dress,
sobbing and bellowing as though their hearts were breaking,
and attracting the attention of everybody. Suddenly
a policeman, coming up in the rear, gave each of them a
kick, and the dumb-struck howlers at once took to their
heels. The scene was exquisitely ridiculous, and the whole
crowd broke into a loud laugh; and even one of the
princes, a half brother, who, like the two Arabs, seemed
more distressed than the others, joined heartily in it until his
governor, standing behind him, gave him a prod with his
stick which renewed the flow of his tears. At Cairo there
was great pomp and ceremony in the final disposition of
the body. According to the custom, it was so placed that
the face should look toward Mecca. On the first night it
is believed by the Moslem that the soul remains in the
body and is visited by two angels, who examine and sometimes
torture it. A Fakir, one of the Mahometan saints,
remains with the dead to instruct it what answers to make,
which he takes from the Koran. He is particular in giving
the Islam or profession of faith. This night is called the
Leyht-Wahdeh (the night of solitude). The soul after
this takes its flight to the place of good souls until the
last day, or to the abode of the wicked to await its final
doom. The religion of the Faithful gives very minute
accounts of the soul's place of abode between death and
judgment.

I have said this much upon this subject because in no
relation of life can we learn the hopes and fears of a people
so well as in their manner of disposing of the dead. With
how much interest do we read of Abraham bowing to the
great law in purchasing a sepulchre in the land where his
posterity were to live, and of Jacob and Joseph showing
their faith in accepting the covenant. “There,” said Israel,
“they buried Abraham and Sarah his wife, and there I
buried Leah … bury me with my fathers in the cave that
is in the field of Ephron the Hittite.” The ancient Egyptians

buried deep into the rock, and the Greeks and Romans
cremated their dead, and encased the urns holding the
sacred ashes in magnificent mausoleums. Mahomet, believing
in the importance of funeral rites, left an elaborate
law to guide the Faithful; though, strange to say, in this as
in much that he said to them, they violate his law in the
most palpable and extraordinary manner. It is a curious fact
that the site on which the palace just mentioned was built
was for two centuries a Roman cemetery, though, luckily for
the peace of its Mahometan inmates, the fact was not
known. As in the case of the palace of Gabara, all trace
of this former use had been swept away and forgotten.
In digging the hills for the railroad near by a populous
abode of the Roman dead, numerous cinerary urns were
found. Like the mummies of a still earlier people, these
urns with their contents could be bought at that time in
great numbers for a few francs each. The Khedive could
not for some time induce his ladies, who were full of every
kind of superstition, to inhabit the deserted summer abode.
They finally consented, provided that for more than a year
he would give in these palace halls grand banquets, balls,
and entertainments to the Europeans, so that they might,
by eating, dancing, and making a noise generally, dance
Affreet (the devil) out of them. On that condition only
would they return. It is said that they had commenced
dancing Old Nick out, but before effecting this most desirable
object the English and French danced the Khedive
out of Egypt, and the lovers of fun and good living not only
lost their entertainments, but Old Nick still remained in
undisputed possession.

In attempting a survey of the splendid ancient city the
mind is saddened, as not even vestiges enough remain to
mark its limits. But for natural landmarks the boundaries
could not be traced at all. Leaving Alexandria, the railroad
crosses a broad sheet of shallow salt water called Lake
Mareotis. In vain you search for traces of those old convents,

Cleopatra, from the Ruins of Dendéra.

filled with thousands of Christian devotees, which
bordered the beautiful basin once filled with fresh water.
Nor is there a vestige of the splendid gardens where, amid
clustering vines, Cleopatra and Antony drank golden wine
to celebrate their union. All is swept away, and a salt lake
with its arid border covers the spot. To add the finishing
touch to the picture of sad havoc which Mahometan misrule
had produced was reserved for civilized Europe. Just below
Aboukir there was a massive dike, erected by the ancients
to separate the sea from the shore, and in the course of
centuries a large tract of land was reclaimed. The splendid
engineering skill of the English opened this obstruction,
created the present vast expanse of waste, and covered it
with destructive salt water, in the merciful attempt to
drown the French out of Egypt, when these most Christian
nations were so intent upon annihilating each other. No
less than sixty villages were submerged by the ocean and
their teeming population driven from their homes to starve.
The waters still cover the once fertile fields. How much
more magnanimous it would have been if England in our
own time, instead of driving Ismail from his home and battling
against Arabi Pacha, who fought for the liberties of his
race, had paid into the Egyptian treasury the value of the
great property and territory thus destroyed. It might then
have prevented the kourbash from wringing from the impoverished
fellah the means needed to pay the indebtedness
of Egypt. The hopeless misery entailed by British policy
can never be estimated. The principal inhabitants of this
inhospitable region are now jackals, which live here in great
numbers. They are the scavengers of the suburbs of the city,
and are named by the Arabs, for some unknown reason, “the
father of Solomon.” There is another little animal, more
gentle and more numerous, often seen jumping about its
borders, called the jerboa, which burrows in the ground. It
is of reddish color, with short fore and very long hind legs,
about the size of a large rat, and makes its appearance at

dark, hopping about like a bird. Such are the living creatures
which now monopolize a region where, less than a century
ago, the eye was delighted with great numbers of
thriving villages and the rich green of rice and wheat fields.
Here, as elsewhere in the East, Christian England has left
the eternal blight of her greed.

CHAPTER II.
ROSETTA.

Rosetta, modern and ancient—Interesting associations of this locality—Ruins
and mosques—Wonderful activity of bird life during the winter months
—Experiences at Rosetta and other fortified cities on the coast—An
Arab dinner, its etiquette and its dishes.

WHILE in command of the coast it became necessary for
me to make frequent visits to Rosetta, thirty miles east of
Alexandria, near the mouth of one of the branches of the
Nile delta. Before the construction of the railroad, the
beautiful bay of Aboukir was a delightful half-way station
at which to take a day's rest. I often visited the bay and
the site of the ancient city of Canopus, picturesquely situated
on the tongue of land between the sea and the bay.
Here are a nest of fortifications and a fine prospect, both
seaward and landward. Excavations twenty or thirty feet
down have disclosed the débris of the city, and there have
been unearthed many statues and broken fragments, as well
as the ruins of a marble aqueduct built to convey fresh
water from the old Canopus branch of the Nile, now lost in
what is known as Lake Elko, all trace of its connection
with the ruin being at present obliterated. Here a temple
of Isis attracted great throngs of the religious to the shrine
of the goddess, and thousands of joyous devotees made the
river resound with song and dance on their way to this
notorious centre of sin and amusement. Under Greek rule
Canopus became a great watering-place, to use a phrase of
to-day, no less celebrated than of old for its orgies held in
honor of the voluptuous goddess who had been adopted

into the Greek Pantheon. It was in this beautiful bay that
Nelson achieved his naval triumph in 1798 (battle of the
Nile) in the destruction of the French fleet under Brueix.
The French subsequently revenged themselves by plunging
into this very bay 10,000 Turks as a propitiation to the
manes of their vanquished countrymen. One of the attractions
of the place to me was the hospitable old Turk whose
chief occupation was prayer, and whose sole diversion was
the inspection of his numerous forts. He was remarkable
for his fondness for cats, of which he had a regiment. Besides,
they and the dogs are really institutions of Egypt.
Throughout his life the old Bey showed in this way his
reverence for the Prophet, who, it is related, had a similar
weakness. Mahomet upon one occasion carried his tenderness
so far that he cut off a piece of his robe upon which
his pet cat was lying, rather than disturb the animal's
dreams.

The favorite perch of this man's cats was his shoulder,
and the caterwauling afforded no little merriment, as one
cat descended in order that others might occupy this post
of honor in their turn. The ancient Egyptians, like my
friend the Bey, venerated the cat, and the killing of one of
these animals was followed by instant death. Many mummies
of cats are now found entombed, and the story is told
that the killing of one led to the expulsion of a famous
Greek from Egypt, who in revenge brought back Cambyses,
the Persian conqueror, to defile her temples. While the
Mahometan loves the cat, he evinces a dislike for the dog,
an animal which, among all nations and in all ages, has
been the ever-faithful companion of man. Homer says
of Ulysses that, forgotten by his wife and family, he was
remembered by his dog. Nature seems to have intended
him as the companion of man, and he delights in adding to
his master's pleasure and protection. I have seen even the
savage share with him his last morsel of game. But Mahomet
disliked the canine race, and impressed his hatred

upon his followers. They alone hold the dog in detestation
as an unclean animal, excluding him from their houses and
shunning him as they would a viper, for they hold that the
touching of the creature is contamination which destroys
the efficacy of prayer unless followed by numerous ablutions.
The Arabs do not strike these animals, but give
them food and shelter and use them as watchdogs and
scavengers. They are seen asleep in crowded streets, the
Arabs carefully passing them by. It is a singular fact that
hydrophobia is unknown in Egypt. Though he is ordinarily
a scurvy-looking cur, the Egyptian dog becomes a handsome
animal under good treatment and makes a good watchdog.
The Bedouin, on the contrary, in his isolated life,
knows the value of dogs, and though a Mahometan, treats
them with much greater kindness. It is dangerous to injure
or kill one belonging to him.

The Mahometans' treatment of the dog affords an excellent
idea of their habits. Their abhorrence grows out of
the fact that the animal sometimes eats offal. But the cat
is even worse than he, when not famished with hunger, and
its vicious instincts have to be carefully guarded against.
The ancient Egyptians understood the value of both cats
and dogs, for Egypt was overrun then, as now, with rats
and mice in houses and in the fields. Prudence required
that the natural enemies of these vermin should be encouraged,
so the priests protected them by law and religion. It
was a piece of political wisdom thus to command the
respect of the people by protecting these animals, so indispensable
in their purely agricultural country.

Rosetta, called by the Arabs Raschid, is thought to be
the ancient city of Melitus, and is situated near the mouth
of the Rosetta branch of the Nile. There was always a
large garrison here, where I have often inspected as many
as 10,000 men. A few miles distant is the old fort of St
Julian, which was occupied by the French when they were
in Egypt. It was at this place that the famous Rosetta

stone—the first key to the hieroglyphic writings of ancient
Egypt—was found.

The city was once populous, but for many years its venerable-looking
structures, desolate and uninhabited, have
reminded the traveller of a city of the dead. The mouth
of the river being choked by the Nile mud, Mehemet Ali
conceived the idea of cutting the grand Mamondieh Canal
so as to connect the Nile above here with the magnificent
Bay of Alexandria. This isolated Rosetta and destroyed
its importance, but now that a railroad connects it with
the bay, it is being transformed once more into a busy
mart; its once beautiful gardens begin again to smile with
verdure, and the feathered songsters that had abandoned
the sterile wastes have returned to their rosy bowers.
The remains of parterres and gardens begin again to look
beautiful with their perfumed hedges inclosing the pomegranate,
citron, orange, and the waving date-tree. Here in
the month of October no blighting frost stops the progress
of nature, and a shower now and then, like a spring day in
a cold climate, tempers the atmosphere, while the beams of
the returning sun bring a more genial warmth. There is
never any check to vegetation, as is the case for so many
months in other countries, where nature clothes herself in
the mantle of decayed vegetation. At Rosetta, as everywhere
on the coast, the winds and rains alone temper the
climate. Artificial heat is rarely necessary, and the songbirds
of Europe prefer this for their winter residence to the
drier climate of Cairo. They like the neighborhood of
Rosetta, where they can linger among perfumed flowers and
broad fields extending for many miles on both sides of the
river. The Arab's fondness for birds is remarkable. He
will sit for hours in these gardens watching and listening to
them with patient delight. His favorite among all the
birds that visit him is the dove, and he will often follow
that bird into the thick shades of the shrubbery that he
may the better hear the music of its cooing.

The nightingale on his winter visit to Egypt seems
strangely gloomy and unsocial. To the wonder of the
Arabs, he shuns all communion with his fellows, mopes
in solitude, and remains as silent as the desert which surrounds
his seclusion. There he sits moping from October
till March, but the happy return of spring inspires him with
new life, and he once more seeks the vine-clad hills of his
native land, where the forests soon echo with the sweet
strains of the king of the singing birds. In the month of
September the great migration of the quail commences from
Europe across the Mediterranean to the shores of Egypt,
and then the air is dark with countless thousands of those
birds. Many rest on the islands in their passage, and numbers
seek a resting-place on any passing vessel; some fall
into the sea, but the myriads that darken the shores of
Egypt constitute a real wonder. Tired with their long
flight, they are easily captured, and Egyptian hospitality is
violated by their seizure when deprived of strength to fly.
Over two hundred thousand of them are sent alive to Paris
and London, at the time of their coming in September and
on their return in the spring.

At a fort, a short distance above Rosetta, situated on
quite a high isolated sand-hill, there is a view across a
perfect level, with no barrier but the distant horizon, and
yet the picture is a majestic one. To the north the
thread-like outline of the shore which separates the landscape
from the sea and the foaming waves at the mouth
of the Nile mark the boundary of the distant waters.
To the east are unfolded emerald fields and the ever-beautiful
carpet of the delta. To the west lies the Libyan
Desert, which nature has forever stamped with the indelible
seal of sterility. Beneath the hill upon which the fort is
situated is the mosque of Abou Mandar, or “Father of
Light.” Besides being a brilliant example for the Faithful,
the saint possesses many other remarkable virtues. As
Rosetta through all her history has been fearful of being

overwhelmed by the sands of the desert, the presence of
this pious saint alone has saved it from the impending
doom. Not only do deserts stand in dread of this mighty
lord who holds in his hands their shifting sands, but he is
the canonized enemy of all sterility. The beautiful women
of Egypt who have no saint nearer at hand come hither to
implore the beneficent offices of the Father of Light, and
after performing nine days' devotion under the protecting
care of the sheik who attends the mosque, it is rarely that
the great boon so absolutely necessary to the fortune and
happiness of a Mahometan woman is not bestowed. This
mosque is situated immediately on the bank of the river,
and no boat or vessel ever passes it without propitiating
its powerful titular saint.

During official visits along the coast of Egypt, the arrival
of the commanding general at any of the forts is the signal
for a fête. The fatted lamb being killed, the low round
table is soon set, covered by a single waiter. The dinner,
el ghada, being announced, basin and ewer, tisht and ibreck,
are brought, and every one is expected to wash his hands
and mouth carefully with running water. A silver tray,
seeneeyah, is placed upon the table, sufrah, and is large
enough to cover it. The guests being seated (usually at
each sufrah there were five or six persons), condiments and
lemons with round cakes of bread in shape something like a
Mexican tortilla are placed before each guest, together with
an ebony, tortoise-shell, or ivory spoon. The roomy sleeve
of the Arab being rolled up above the elbow, and the Bismi-llah
(“in the name of God”) repeated by each person
present, the repast commences. The first dish, a large
tureen of very fine soup slightly flavored with lemon-juice,
is placed in the midst of the table. It is etiquette for the
highest Pacha to help himself first, and it was usually my
office to take that dip, which was done with the ivory spoon,
all others following suit, and all helping themselves out
of the same tureen. No one was expected to stop until the

Pacha signalled “enough,” and knowing that they liked
soup, I have often felt, when ready to acknowledge myself
surfeited, that politeness made it necessary for me to continue
the interesting occupation. The next dish was a
whole sheep barbecued and perfectly well done. Again the
Pacha took the first pick—no knives or forks were ever
used. During the picking process, if the host particularly
cherished his guest, he testified his regard by picking out a
very nice piece and giving it to him, even putting it into
his mouth if their relations were very friendly. This compliment
is of course returned.

The “picking” never stopped until only the skeleton of
the sheep was left. The result of this effort was that by
the time the sheep was devoured we were tolerably sated.
This eating with the fingers is much more delicate than
those unacquainted with the process would imagine. The
Saviour and apostles ate from one dish, and it is a general
Eastern custom. Even in Greece and Rome the cultivated
classes ate with the fingers. The food is specially prepared
to aid this manner of disposing of it. The other dishes
which followed in succession for twenty or more courses at
an Arab banquet, were stuffed turkey and chickens, rich
stewed and boiled meats with onions, okra eaten with
lemon-juice, and other vegetables. A very fine dish called
the warak-mashee consisted of minced meat and rice
wrapped in vine-leaves delicately seasoned with salt, pepper,
onions, garlic, and parsley, the whole being boiled
together. Cucumber, khiyar, and a kind of gourd called
the kara koosah are stuffed with spiced mince-meat and
boiled, and are very nice to the taste. Small pieces of
lamb roasted on skewers, fish dressed with oil, and every
variety of vegetables, sweets, and fruits between the dishes
were wont to appeal to the most capricious tastes of the
guest. The kunafeh never fails. This is a dish made of
flour, and it looks like vermicelli, but is finer, being fried in
butter and sweetened with sugar and honey. Thin pastry

is rolled into leaves as fine as paper and put one on the
other, with curd scattered through the folds, and then it is
baked. The last dish is rice boiled with butter, ruzz
mufelfel, and seasoned with salt and pepper. This is followed
by a sweet drink, khushaf, water sweetened with
raisins boiled in it and then cooled; rose-water is added,
which perfumes it. Before leaving the table the guests are
perfumed with rose-water or the smoke of some aromatic
plant. I can give but a meagre description of an Arab
dinner. This hospitable treatment being extended at
numerous forts made it a great pleasure to get back to an
ordinary dinner at home, and a secret dread of the feasting
would come over me when the time for visiting came.
These feasts are exceptional; ordinarily the people are the
most economical in the world, and live frugally; it is only
on an occasion like this or some fête day that they show
such prodigal hospitality. After dinner you squat on the
divan, and the traditional pipes and cigars are served, the
ceremonial coffee is introduced, numerous salaams or salutations
are exchanged between the guests and the host, and
these acceptable accessories are discussed with unrestrained
zest.

The conviviality commences in earnest while sipping
coffee and smoking. Arabs then lose their gravity and continually
joke one another, being very fond of badinage. A
funny saying quite captivates them. The merchant and
the donkey-boy are easily moved with a jest, and the
women in their hours of ease, with coffee and cigarettes,
which with the higher classes consume most of the time,
amuse themselves at each other's cost. They never get
angry, however sharp the jest may be. At all these entertainments
if the host thinks it will be pleasing, the Ghawazzee
or dancing girls are introduced, many of them being
very handsome. These dance without their veils, to the
slow music of the kamingah or kanoon, a dance resembling
the fandango of Spain. As the women of the harem are

very fond of the dance, the dancing girls usually make their
display where the ladies can see the performance through
their veiled windows.

Rosetta and Aboukir were the scene of torpedo experiments
under the direction of Colonel William Ward, who
was stationed here for a long time. It was a great pleasure
to meet him here in his field of operations. These two
interesting places would, in my association, lose much of
their interest without him. The colonel had been an
officer in both the United States and Confederate navies,
and was appreciated in them. No officer labored in Egypt
in more varied duties, for he was a true American type of
adaptability where sense and experience were required. If
the Khedive wanted a distant exploration made where
ability and scientific training were essential, or if he desired
a perfect system of torpedoes, or a distant and unknown
harbor and river critically and faithfully reported upon, this
gallant sailor and soldier, for he seemed equally adapted to
both professions, was certain to be selected. The Khedive
knew that no one could be more trusted to furnish him
the information he required.

CHAPTER III.
MEHEMET ALI.

The birth and rise of Mehemet Ali—How he became Viceroy of Egypt—His
genius and astuteness—the massacre of the Mamelukes—Attempts of
the Sultan to get rid of his dangerous vassal—Mehemet's wars and his
attempts to benefit Egypt—Neslé-Hannoum and her husband, Ahmet Bey
—Ahmet's exploits in Upper Egypt and the Soudan—His remorseless
cruelty—Anecdotes of Ahmet—How Neslé-Hannoum killed her husband
for the supposed good of Mehemet Ali—Extraordinary character of
Neslé—Her licentiousness and exploits—Incidents of cruelty in harem
life.

THE Egypt of to-day was founded by Mehemet Ali, a
simple fisherman of Greek descent, who was born at the
small town of Cavalla, on the coast of Roumelia, about the
year 1768. As few Mahometans keep registers of births,
he never knew his own age. Illiterate in his youth, he
learned to write through the teaching of a slave, after he
was forty years of age. He won his first promotion by an
act of treachery. He pretended to pray in a mosque by
the side of a friend who had done something which for-feited
his life to the government. He secured the confidence
of this man, and when he had learned his secret by
gross deception, handed him over to the authorities.
Mehemet was rewarded by a lieutenancy. His ambition
satisfied, he then used his cunning and power to save the
life of his victim, the betrayal of whom had been his first
stepping-stone in promotion.

His courage was daring even to desperation, and when an
end was to be gained there was no sacrifice or treachery which
he hesitated to use to attain it. Born a soldier of consummate

ability, he intuitively grasped the science of war. Coming
to Egypt as a lieutenant and rising rapidly to the rank of
Bey (colonel), he was very soon, next to the Viceroy, the
most important man in the government. The fact that the
Mamelukes were troublesome during this time and in conflict
with authority gave the young Greek an opportunity
to play a subtle part. Becoming a mediator, he betrayed
both parties and advanced his own schemes.

After driving from power no less than three Viceroys and
standing in open revolt against the Sultan, he found him-self
hampered by the force of the Mamelukes whom he had
deceived, but who were still a strong power in the land.
The Ulumas, the people, and the army presented to him
the supreme authority, and the Sultan, driven by policy,
though against his will, invested him by a firman with the
post of Governor-General. It was only after a great show
of reluctance that the cunning Greek accepted the lofty
position of authority for which he had been intriguing.
Like Caesar, he needed to be pressed to accept the crown.
Thus he consummated the ambition for which he had long
been working alike by craft and the commission of dark
crimes. English influence with the Porte subsequently
induced the latter to offer him the Pachalik of Salonica in
exchange for his Egyptian authority, in order to get the
wily soldier out of the way of British plans in the East.
But Mehemet Ali made a bold stand. Again courting the
alliance of the Mamelukes whom he had formerly tricked,
and securing the friendship of France, he so worked on the
fears of the Sultan, who dreaded the danger of losing his
valuable suzerainty, that the Porte again made a virtue of
necessity, and confirmed his unruly vassal in the title of
Viceroy, on his agreeing to pay a yearly tribute of a million
dollars.

England, indignant at this arrangement, sent an expedition
to Egypt, which was encountered by Mehemet near
Rosetta, and was vanquished by him. He was guilty of

acts of great brutality and cruelty toward his foe, but becoming
aware that it was not his interest to appear before
the world in the light of a monster, he afterward sent the
remaining prisoners in his power as a peace-offering without
ransom to appease the wrath of his enemy. It is interesting
to follow the history of this man, who by the force
of native genius eventually attained power in perpetuity,
shaking the throne of the Sultan and wresting from him
the highest dignity ever conferred upon a subject—the
dominion of a practically independent empire. He was
given the domain extending from the Mediterranean Sea
to the Equator, a vast empire in itself, and the hereditary
succession was established forever, according to Mahometan
law, in the eldest of his blood. Like Napoleon,
Mehemet Ali was a natural soldier. The fortunes of
both were carved out with the sword in countries of which
they were subjects but in which they were not born, and
both attained the highest power. The one died a prisoner
in the hands of “perfidious Albion,” the other died a
maniac in his palace near Cairo. The successor of Napoleon
closed his reign in an ocean of blood; the descendant
of Mehemet has just emerged from an inglorious war
against his own people, escaping by the aid of English
bayonets.

Travellers, on going to Cairo, wind their way in a gradual
ascent through the famous street called Mouski, while
crowding through a throng of shrieking Arabs and ungainly
camels, and crushing against donkeys, people, and carriages,
only to emerge into a still more crowded Arab street. Aided
by your syce (the man who runs before your horse or carriage)
you manage, in the greatest confusion of sounds and
smells, to commence the steep ascent to the citadel. After
many halts the great gate is entered fronting the mosque of
alabaster, erected by the Grand Pacha to receive his
remains.

A little to the left of this mosque there stands the remnant

Street in Cairo.

of a Saracenic building which was a part of the palace
where once resided the great warrior, Saladin. This site is
some two hundred and fifty feet above the city, on one of
the heights of the Mokattim hills. Beyond this, and on
the other decline, a short distance away, is an historical
well, nearly two hundred feet deep, cut through the limestone
rock. It bears the name of the patriarch Joseph,
and, according to tradition, was excavated by him.
Retracing the road and passing around the mosque to a
stone platform, we see the spot from which a Mameluke
leaped on horseback to the distance of sixty feet below, as
told by the dragoman of to-day. Passing through the
mosque a short distance, another great gateway is entered,
fronting a long building with many entrances, stairways,
salons, and an extensive harem establishment. This building
was the palace and residence of Mehemet Ali. All the
buildings just described are inclosed by high walls and surrounded
with fortifications and barracks which overlook the
city and valley of the Nile, the Pyramids, and tombs of the
Khalifs, with the great surrounding desert. The whole is
called the Citadel. It is here that Mehemet Ali committed
one of his greatest crimes, which only an Eastern despot
could justify on grounds of policy. The Sultan having
great doubts—for he then had ambitious dreams of empire
—and wishing to weaken his powerful vassal, sent an order
to the Viceroy to make war upon the Wahabees, who were
then threatening Mecca. Knowing the power of the
Mamelukes, those independent lords in the interior, whose
influence was still great, and who, he knew, were plotting
against him, Mehemet determined, before leaving, to settle
the question with them once and forever. After coquetting
with his victims and thoroughly inspiring them with confidence,
he invited all their leading men to a grand, elaborately
prepared banquet.

After the magnificent feast was ended the haughty guests
were dismissed, and they descended into the courtyard to

mount their horses. But this time they were invited to a
banquet of death. The inclosure was lined with artillery,
which instantly opened fire on the unfortunate men, while
a rain of bullets fell upon them from hidden soldiery in the
Citadel. Thus occurred the instant butchery of four hundred
men. At the same time thousands were hunted down
and slain like dogs in the provinces. This was the end of
those celebrated freebooters, the Mamelukes. Emin Bey,
the chief, who leaped the wall on horseback and landed
safely on the débris below, was afterward taken into favor,
and became one of Mehemet's stanchest supporters.

The Mamelukes dead, the Viceroy's sons, Ibrahim and
Toussoun, marched against the Wahabees, and in person he
led an army to the Hedgas. The Sultan, taking advantage
of the supposed absence of Mehemet's soldiery, sent Latif
Pacha to assume power in Egypt. The envoy was welcomed
by Mehemet, the Pacha's representative, with a
gracious smile and offers of services. A Turk is never so
treacherous as when most gracious. Biding his time until
he had Latif Pacha completely in his power, Mehemet put
him to death. Stirred by this act of declared hostility on
the part of the Porte, the Viceroy set seriously to work to
establish a firm government, with the sole object of throwing
off the Turkish yoke, and it has been thought that he
even aimed at conquering the entire East. His Arabian
and Syrian wars which followed caused him, however, to
abandon his dreams of an Arabian empire.

In creating a nation he borrowed his policy largely from
the example of Napoleon, with whom he had come in close
contact in Egypt; and in following the policy of the great
Corsican he naturally made many mistakes, chiefly in
trying to accomplish too much. There are many evidences
of his folly pointed out by those who have lived long in
Egypt. In attempting the great work of damming the two
rivers of the Nile known as the Barrage, twelve miles below
Cairo, that he might irrigate the lower delta, he miscalculated

his means. The scheme was too mighty for so poor
a country, if not absolutely impracticable in any case, on
account of its cost. After immense sums had been spent
upon it the attempt was only partially successful; but some
of the great engineers of the world have expressed the
opinion that even in its unfinished state the work is one of
the greatest conceptions of human genius. The incident is
often quoted of Mehemet's reply to a French engineer
relative to his manner of cutting the Mammondieh Canal,
which connects Alexandria with the Nile, one of the substantial
monuments of his reign. The inquisitive Giaour
was disposed to joke the Viceroy on the crookedness of the
canal. Mehemet asked him if all the rivers were not made
so by Allah. And the reply being in the affirmative, he said
the example of Allah was good enough for him to follow.

Occupying himself after his wars in establishing his
finances, he was oppressive in exacting money with which
to meet his extraordinary demands. Desiring independence,
he established many manufactories, liberally invited
foreigners, among them numbers of military men from
France for his army and military schools, and sent many
young men to Europe to be educated. Egypt being peculiarly
agricultural, much of his time and money were
devoted to the development of improved methods of cultivation.
He was the first to introduce the cultivation of
the Sea Island cotton, and he planted innumerable forest
and shade trees throughout Egypt. Successful in his
Arabian and Bedouin wars, he determined upon the conquest
of Sennaar, in upper Africa, and ordered his favorite
son, Ismail, aided by Ahmet Bey, who had married his
daughter Neslé, to take military possession of that province.
To reach the gold region, where they thought to
find rich mines, was one grand object of the expedition.
Coming to the village of Chendy, Ismail demanded of
Menek-Nem'r, the ruler of the country, large sums of gold
under threats of terrible vengeance; and in addition he

required the chief to send him his attractive young daughter,
in accordance with the usage of the country. The
invaders had also asked for straw for their horses and the
same for beds for the soldiers. The whole people, apparently
delighted, readily brought enormous quantities of
straw and spread it around the building in which Ismail and
his party were established. Crowds came singing and
dancing, with torches to light the gay throng. Ismail was
enjoying the scene instituted, as he supposed, in his honor,
when suddenly the father of the girl signalled his people,
and in an instant the straw was lighted, the building was in
a blaze, and the son of the Viceroy with his whole party
was burned to death. None were allowed to escape except
the young girl, and even she was spared much against the
will of her father; Mahometan as he was, he considered
her, though an unwilling victim, dead to him. The
avengers continued dancing the dance of death, their
women singing the song of joy, until the last cry of agony
had died away. Ahmet Bey, the Deftdar, as he was called,
hastened from Kordofan, another province, to avenge the
death of the young prince. Naturally cruel and remorseless,
he put thousands of the people to the sword and
applied the torch to their villages, sparing neither sex nor
age.

This man Ahmet was a Turk, of good make and manners,
but he was said to look at one “with the whites of
his eyes,” which gave a wicked and suspicious expression
to his face. He had been sent by the Sultan to Egypt to
watch the course of the Viceroy. In order that he might
attach this spy to his interest, Mehemet gave him his
daughter, the Princess Zora, called more frequently Neslé-Hannoum,
in marriage. He knew that if there was any
one on earth who could keep Ahmet Bey in good faith to
him, it was this wily and heartless woman, who loved no
one on earth except her father. The story is told that,
hating the Deftdar, he gave Neslé to him in order that the

latter might enjoy the association of one as cruel and brutal
as himself. Though not a perfect beauty according to our
Western idea, she had symmetry of form and charm of face,
and was called handsome. She could be extremely refined
and witty, was fond of admiration, and possessed many
winning ways. During the lifetime of her husband she was
true to him, according to report. After his death, dreading,
maybe, another such an alliance, she declined to
marry again, but gratified her appetites in a succession of
cruel yet romantic amours, which made her name notorious
throughout the East.

An amusing incident is related of the Deftdar, which I
was told by an old and attached friend of Mehemet Ali,
who has given me much information concerning the traits
of that wonderful man. Ahmet Bey while in command of
these upper provinces required his French engineers to
make magnificent maps of Kordofan, Sennaar, and other
portions of Africa, accompanied by the most minute accounts
of the country, the people, their language, customs,
habits, and mode of thinking, the whole constituting the
most perfect description we have, even yet, of that region.
He sent copies of the maps and descriptions to the Geographical
Institute at Paris, who were pleased to get them.
The French at that time were anxious to cultivate a good
understanding with the new government, and accordingly
a member of the society was sent to thank Ahmet for the
valuable present, and to inform him that he had been
nominated an honorary member. Those who have visited
Cairo will recollect a long, low stone building occupying a
large space between the two great hotels there. It was
this old palace into which the Frenchman was introduced.
While seated in a grand salon, dazzled by the extraordinary
display of gilt and gold, and luxuriously enjoying his ease
upon the rich silk divans, his Oriental contemplation was
suddenly interrupted. Hearing an extraordinary scratching
at the great door, he supposed it to be the Eastern signal

of some one desiring to enter. A moment later, however,
a great pressure forced the door partly open, and to the
Frenchman's amazement there appeared the head of a large
lion with glaring and savage eyes, its shaggy mane partly
covering them and adding still more to their extraordinary
glitter. Entering with soft tread upon the Persian carpet
and showing his enormous white teeth, the great beast
majestically walked toward the member of the Institute,
who, giving a terrific shriek, rushed to the second-story
window, intending to leap headlong into the street below.
But he was in a harem prison, barred with iron. As quick
as thought he climbed up the massive damask curtain and
crouched on the top of the cornice, squeezed into the
smallest possible space. The noise alarmed the household,
who running pell-mell to learn the nature of the difficulty,
saw the distinguished Frenchman in the undignified predicament
described, giving loud expression to his dolorous
fear, while the king of beasts, seemingly amazed, regarded
him curiously as if desiring to know what strange animal it
was that had crossed his path. Those who came seeing
the lion turned back in apparent amusement, adding still
more to the fright of our hero. At that moment Ahmet
Bey appeared. He, too, showed his amused appreciation of
the scene, but helping his visitor to descend, he assured
him that the lion was perfectly gentle. “But,” said the
trembling Frenchman, “we are not accustomed in Paris to
live in intimate association with such ferocious beasts.”
Completing his errand as soon as possible, he left the
palace never to enter it again.

The story was current that Mehemet in his old age complained
of his health, and that his daughter Zora gave him
a potion in the hope of curing him. It unfortunately
affected his brain and ended in madness, from which he
never recovered. But I was informed that this was a mistake,
the true story being as follows: Mehemet had been
showing signs of approaching insanity, and this daughter,

who loved him dearly, observed that one of his idiosyncrasies
was that he trembled with fright at the sight of Ahmet
Bey, her husband. The grim old warrior having pathetically
told her of his distress, she caressingly said to him that she
would provide a medicine that would relieve his sufferings.
The next day she prepared a cup of the finest Mocha coffee
and perfumed it with cinnamon, of which the Turk is very
fond. Holding it to the lips of her husband with her beautifully
jewelled little hand (cruel to all others, he had
always been kind to her), she with her sweetest smile asked
him to drink it. Its aroma delighted him. and he swallowed
it at a single draught; in a quarter of an hour the
remedy for her father had its effect; the cause, as she supposed,
of his ailment was forever silenced, and the beautiful
Princess Neslé-Hannoum was a widow.

There are many acts of cruelty related of Ahmet, who to
this day is remembered in Egypt as a demon, and who was
cruel apparently for no better reason than a fiendish delight
in human suffering. I forbear to mention such stories for
fear of exaggeration. But there are several anecdotes
which show that at times he possessed a rough sense of
justice. A sheik in one of the villages of Kordofan where
he commanded, whose duty it was to provide for the feeding
of the government animals, did not pay the poor keeper
for the grain, but pocketed the money himself, believing
that no one would dare complain of him. The facts came
to the ears of the Deftdar, however. Ahmet at once
required the official to pay over the money he had stolen,
and then ordered that all his teeth should be extracted,
cruelly telling him during the infliction that as he had
devoured the substance of the poor, he should be deprived
of the power of masticating his own. On another occasion
a merchant complained of the arbitrary act of a military
subordinate, which was so apparent and flagitious that an
immediate execution was ordered. By great exertion the
merchant saved the offender on the latter returning the

money; but he was forced to get upon his knees, take off
the shoes of the merchant, and kiss the bottom of the infidel
dog's feet—the most fearful of humiliations to a Turk

Here it may be proper to say something further concerning
Neslé-Hannoum, a woman whose name is notorious in
Egypt. It is impossible to pass by the history of this
remarkable woman without mentioning some of her exploits,
and I shall do so in as delicate a manner as possible.
It has already been said that her husband had proved himself
cruel and relentless to those within his power. It is a
singular fact that though Ahmet inspired fear in all others,
even including the great Mehemet Ali, who had made the
East tremble, yet he was in abject fear of this woman. Of
kindred spirits, they were actuated by similar impulses, and
were conscious of their similarity. They divined that they
were two beings distinct from the rest of humanity; that
they were influenced by like vicious and desperate instincts,
and by a strange freak of nature this mutual recognition of
character bred in them a great respect and admiration for
each other, and they never failed to show the greatest love
and tenderness in their intercourse. Though after Ahmet's
death the widow, in gratifying her desires, entered upon a
career of crime which scarcely finds a parallel in history,
she had always been (save in the single instance cited, when
she acted under the powerful influence of filial affection)
true and devoted to this man, whom she poisoned. Fearing
the anger of her family, and thinking to save her name
from becoming a curse among her people, she never hesitated
to provide the means of destroying the object of her
caprice when her safety required it. She had never read
history, and of course knew nothing of those extraordinary
women whose careers her own resembled; she was therefore
her own great original in vice and crime.

Inclosed in a harem and knowing nothing of the world,
accustomed to silence those who possessed too much knowledge
of her secrets, she judged that prudence made it

necessary to do the same toward those who did not belong
to her charmed circle, but who may have been admitted
into it. Every kind of deception was practised in the
introduction of her victims into her harem. It was thought
that, led blindfolded, they could never know their new
acquaintance; and as the Nile alone could reveal the
secret, no one would ever be the wiser. Two or three of
her victims having disappeared, rumor began to be busy,
and Neslé became famous. The neighbors saw strangers
enter and never return again. Suspicious-looking objects
were seen cast by moonlight into the Nile, and noises like
a death-struggle were heard within her inclosure. These
ominous signs were cautiously whispered about by the
Arabs, for she, being a princess and the daughter of
Mehemet Ali, whose name they feared, they dreaded
vengeance from his anger. A bold and adventurous foreigner,
against the advice of his friends, determined to
enter the portal of death, having satisfied himself of the
truth of the rumors. The route was circuitous; bandaged
and led through broad gardens, he ascended and descended
stairs and was finally halted; the bandage was removed,
and he found himself in a brilliantly-lighted Oriental salon,
where the princess in her rich costume nestled on her silk
divan, playing with a necklace of rose-coral and diamonds,
while a maid kneeling at her feet was engaged in fanning
her.

Dances were executed by the young slaves; delightful
dinners and voluptuous music were constantly introduced
for his entertainment; every resource of Oriental luxury
was taxed to add to his pleasure; but there is a term to all
earthly happiness. The gallant gentleman was finally told
that the head of the house was about to return, and it
being against the law for a stranger to enter the abode of
bliss, it was necessary for him to take his departure or risk
his life and the lives of those who were compelled to
remain. “But,” he replied, “fair lady, your husband

never can return here, for the simple reason that you are
the Princess Neslé-Hannoum, and a widow.” Upon her
denying this statement, he said that she was not only
known to him, but that he was acquainted with the fortune
that awaited him, were it not for the fact that precautions
had been taken to guard against his being thrown into the
Nile. Alarmed, the princess smilingly protested that no
one had ever been killed by her orders, that he was the first
who had ever penetrated into her harem, and dismissed
him with the injunction to keep his introduction a secret.
A similar instance occurred afterward when two or three of
her eunuchs were killed by the daring lover whom she had
doomed to death. This created a profound sensation in
Cairo, and caused the banishment of the princess by her
nephew, Abbas Pacha, to Constantinople. On his death
she returned, and again created an excitement by her voluptuous
crimes, but was put under surveillance and made to
behave herself by her brother Saïd, who had the windows
of her harem walled up. Though she long ago followed
her numerous victims, yet these walled-up windows are
pointed out to this day as mementoes of her criminal life.
To show the degradation to which the system of plurality
of wives inevitably leads, it is well to mention another ofttold
tale of crime and cruelty practised in the secrecy of
the harem. A Mussulman killed his wife for infidelity.
The father of the woman was so well satisfied of her guilt,
and so moved by the feeling which sustains one of the
Faithful under such circumstances, that he commiserated
the unfortunate man, and in his anxiety to soothe his
lacerated feelings offered him in marriage another daughter,
much younger and of ravishing beauty, in lieu of the murdered
one. It is most remarkable that these Mussulmans,
not only look upon a murder like this as entirely natural
and proper, but think it only right that a sister of the slain
wife should be given in her stead. A want of confidence
in women is thoroughly instilled into their corrupt and

brutal minds, but in such a case they argue that the new
wife will avoid her sister's crime for fear of bringing upon
herself her sister's punishment. The government never
interferes, it matters not how cruel the events which pass
within the harem walls, and the police are blind. There
was an old Pacha, over eighty, who had a young harem,
and two of the ladies gave birth to offspring. Believing
that age precluded him from being the father of these interesting
creatures, his vengeance sacrificed one of the mothers,
and nothing was done. The other, after being terribly
beaten, it is said escaped to Europe.

CHAPTER IV.
ABBAS AND SAÏD PACHAS.

The accession of Abbas, grandson of Mehemet—His odious and detestable
character—Prominent traits of a ruler who was heartless, avaricious, and
worthless—His death, supposed to have been instigated by his aunt,
Neslé-Hannoum—Succeeded by Saïd Pacha, his uncle, Mehemet's son—
Incidents of his reign and traits of his character—Saïd a strange mixture
of good and evil—His eccentricities of purpose and action—Lesseps and
the Suez—Death, of Saïd after a short reign.

IBRAHIM PACHA, who held power for some time during
the insanity of Mehemet, succeeded him at his death, but
reigned in his own right only seventy-five days. He was
just, though severe, and died universally regretted. A
beautiful equestrian statue, erected in Cairo in his honor by
his son Ismail, was wantonly destroyed by fanatics in the
recent unhappy war.

Abbas Pacha, the grandson of Mehemet Ali and son of
Toussoun, who served in the campaign against the Wahabees
of Arabia, was the next in age, and became Viceroy.
This man was a singular character in his way, and in no
wise followed the methods of his predecessors. He seemed
to study how best he could personify a fiend. His undoubted
ability seemed instinctively directed to every conceivable
wickedness. Socially and as Viceroy, in every
affair of life his career was marked by cruelty and vindictiveness.
A striking peculiarity of his character was a
deep-seated hatred of his nearest relatives. His own
mother and his own son did not escape his cowardly and
heartless suspicions, and he enjoyed with keen relish the
cruel and unjust espionage to which he constantly subjected

them. The wanton annoyances with which he persecuted
his wealthy subjects were of such a nature that their
only safety was in concealing their money and their persons.
The squeezing process, so exquisitely applied, was
one of the traits of his great financial ability. No Viceroy
was ever known to keep so full a treasury. A fanatical
Mussulman, in filling his coffers with the glittering prize he
never failed to thank Allah that he had placed under his
hand so much wealth to meet the necessities of the state.
While exiling his own family and murdering his people,
this peculiar man never neglected to offer his prayers
devoutly to Allah on Friday. Though reverent in his Mahometan
duties, in the same breath his caprice doomed,
on the slightest suspicion, the most honored of his subjects
to the Fazougle, his prison in Central Africa, a place said
to have been selected because of its deadly climate. A
writer of note mentions the fact of there being an original
order on file at Khartoum, in the Soudan, which directs his
minions “to get a sickly place, and to put but one door and
window in the prison to be erected, and to feed the prisoners
on a quarter of a ration.” When the fatal malaria
and burning heat of that climate are considered, no more
refined and horrible punishment can be imagined to inflict
upon poor human nature—not hardened criminals in this
case, but the best men in the land, whose only fault was
the possession of wealth, in clutching which he was able to
show his wonderful financial ability. Numbers of rich and
poor were confined together in the same party, with a
wooden yoke around their necks and their hands manacled,
and were marched often great distances, their ankles
chained in heavy fetters, to die thousands of miles from any
possible hope of comfort or aid. It is said that his superstition
went so far that he believed in magic “when practised
in the name of Allah,” but visited his vengeance on
those who attempted it in the name of the unbelieving Jin.
Having numerous magicians constantly about him, they

often guided him with their “secret science” in the most
serious affairs of state. He dismissed the able foreigners
whom Mehemet Ali had collected around him for the
advancement of science and the arts and the introduction
of a better civilization. So great a dread had he of foreigners
that he even fled, when he dared, the approach of
diplomatic agents. Abbas, when a prince, once left the
haunts of civilized men and placed himself on a cliff near
Mount Sinai, in the most inhospitable desert. Disliking
woman, there was no one to share his isolation except a
few favorite dogs, and the people of Egypt thought him
possessed of the evil eye. They were delighted, even at
that early day, to get him out of their sight.

The contrast between this man and the “grim old warrior,”
socially and in government, was marked. Mehemet
Ali was accustomed, after the cares of state, to hasten to his
garden (for, like all Orientals, he was fond of shady trees and
fragrant flowers), and there for many hours each day he
indulged in the conversation of distinguished foreigners.
This relaxation was to him a source both of pleasure and
of profit, and he applied much that he learned in this
agreeable manner to the improvement of his country's
condition. Enjoying refined associations, though himself
steeped in blood spilled to gratify his ambition, this singular
man in his hours of ease was exceedingly amiable and
complaisant to the young and fair creatures with whom
even in his old age he was accustomed to surround himself.
There was something romantic in this scarred old soldier
passing his leisure in the society of innocent young Greek
and Circassian women, with his frequent (Inshallah)
“please God” for the manifold blessings which were conferred
upon him. Forgetting in the smiles of beauty the
great wrongs he had done in his career of crime, he soothed
his conscience, if he had such a thing, with the idea that he
was a true son of the Faithful, and that all his experiences
were but the carrying out of great and good

designs under the special countenance and protection of
Allah.

The name of Abbas is connected with two fine works—the
railroad from Alexandria, to Cairo and Suez, and the Barrage
–of which we have already written as commenced by
Mehemet Ali. He incurred the deep hatred of his aunt,
the Egyptian Messalina. Neslé, and it is believed that she
planned his assassination, a doom which he always.feared
and took every precaution to avert. It finally befell him at
the hands of two eunuchs, who were specially appointed to
watch over his repose, and. who had been sent by Neslé-Hannoum
from Constantinople to wreak the revenge which
she cherished.
Saïd Pacha, one of the youngest sons of Mehemet, was
the next in succession. He came to the throne only to find
that Abbas had emptied the treasury into his own private
coffer or had lavished the money upon his own family.
The country was in disorder, and those attached to the
government were crying for bread, fulfilling to the letter
the adage so common in the East, “After me the deluge.”
Abbas, like the rest, had spent vast sums in bribing the
cormorants at Constantinople, who were only too anxious
to take the money, to give the crown to his son. They
swore by the Prophet that so reasonable a request should be
granted, knowing perfectly well that the chances were that
they could never comply with their promise. But a single
friend recollected Abbas' dying injunction; Elfy Bey, in
his own interest and that of his master, did his best to carry
out the scheme, but signally failed. A cup of perfumed
coffee smoothed his passage into the other world.

The drowning of Ahmet Pacha, the next after Saïd in
right to the throne, gave rise to suspicions in which Saïd
and Ismail were both inculpated. Saïd was suspected because
he had invited all the leading men of his family to a
fête at Cairo, and the car containing them plunged into the
Nile, an accident in which many lives were lost, that of the

heir-apparent among the number. But it was said, on the
other hand, that Saïd liked the victim, and would not have
committed so great a crime as the drowning of his whole
family simply to make his young son Toussoun his successor.
It so happened that Ismail, the enemy of Saïd and
next in birthright to Ahmet, born of a different mother and
only a few months younger, feigned sickness, and was not
on the railroad at the time. It was known he was rich,
ambitious, and full of intrigue, and therefore there were
many who thought that as he was the only one directly interested
he had arranged the whole scheme to pave his way
to the succession. There is no evidence to connect either
with the catastrophe, and if there is a secret the probabilities
are that, like many others of its kind in the East, it
will always remain one. An accident like this, in which
there are numbers interested, never fails to arouse suspicions,
often well grounded. The fault is with the system
of polygamy as it exists in the Eastern countries. There
being many sons by different mothers in the same harem,
the jealousies of the mothers, which they study to instil
into the minds of their sons, increase with years, until all
ties of relationship are forgotten in ambition, and finally the
matter ends in remorseless crime.

Saïd Pacha in his early day was tall and symmetrical,
with blue eyes, light hair, and fair complexion, but toward
the close of his reign, when the writer made his acquaintance,
he had grown stout, with that dazed look so common
in the prematurely old man of the East. Complaisant,
convivial, and generous with his friends, his good humor
was sometimes interrupted by uncontrollable rage. In
these moods he often committed acts of cruelty, which were
followed by the deepest remorse. In his penitence he went
beyond reason in his efforts to remedy the wrong done.
The policy of Abbas was reversed; foreigners were invited,
for their learning and wealth; the army was reorganized;
influential men in exile were recalled, and thousands unjustly

incarcerated were set free. Saïd also instituted great
works for the good of the country. His last great act was
the grant of the concession to De Lesseps which resulted in
the cutting of the Suez Canal—a concession which, though
of incalculable service to the world, was of doubtful value
to Egypt. In letting the astute Frenchman lead him into
his meshes the Viceroy violated a well-established tradition
of his family. Saïd did not live to see this great work consummated.
Under the new régime commerce and agriculture
prospered, and as a result his treasury was replenished.
Still, extraordinary extravagances continued, and the eternal
tax was levied with renewed vigor. Luckily for Egypt, the
American war came on, Egyptian cotton-planting increased,
and as a consequence the government grew rich. Tolerant
in religion, he visited instant punishment upon those of his
people who through fanaticism interfered with the Christian.
On one occasion, violence being threatened by enthusiasts,
the four leading Mahometans were summoned to
Saïd's presence and told that they should be held responsible
for any religious disturbance; that if a hair on the head
of a single Christian was touched, their heads should fall
and grace the four gates of the city. This salutary harangue
had the desired effect.

The unfortunate people of Egypt welcomed Saïd's accession
to the throne with delight, deeming any change from
the rule of Abbas a gain to them; but they soon had reason
to lament the heavy weight of taxation laid upon them by
their new ruler. Saïd's policy was capricious and oppressive,
and was marked by changes so sudden and so radical as to
create something like a convulsion in the state. When
neglect and extravagance had brought the government to
the brink of financial chaos, Saïd startled the country by a
decree dismissing all important officers of state and announcing
his purpose to take all administrative matters into
his own hands. A brief experience of the results of this
policy cured the Viceroy of his delusion, and the old system

was re-established. This disastrous experiment cost Saïd
the respect of the country, and he was thenceforth regarded
as an incapable and capricious statesman—a “crank” invested
with despotic power.

One of his mad schemes was the building of a great city
at the forks of the Nile twelve miles below Cairo, at what
is known as the Barrage. Everybody in Egypt, foreigners
and natives, were invited to witness the planting of the
corner-stone. No display had ever equalled the series of
entertainments given on the occasion, and the affair cost
the state a fabulous sum. There were more than a hundred
thousand people who banqueted day and night at the
government's expense. The Egyptians who were destined
to pay the bill looked on as long as the fête lasted, wondered
what it all meant, and dismissed it quickly from their
minds. It is not their habit to think long or deeply.
They dream and smoke, and leave everything to Allah
The foreigners enjoyed the varied costumes of Saïd's Nubians
and soldiers in coats-of-mail, the Bedouins in their best
regalia riding their finest horses, and the great display of
French fireworks. They ate Saïd's fine dinners and drank
his best wine, and cared little whether he built his city or
not. The city thus extravagantly ushered into being consists
of the single stone originally planted in great solemnity
with Moslem prayers. There was a gallant show and a
great expenditure, and that was all.

It was said in Egypt that Saïd was not blameless in the
treatment of his queen, the Sitta Hannoum or “great
lady.” Though she may not have fulfilled the order of
nature which an Oriental thinks indispensable, giving birth
to children, yet she was beautiful, charming, instructed,
and good. She had been a young Circassian slave adopted
by Saïd's mother and educated in her harem; the companion
of his youth and intended for his bride, there was everything
in her winning ways to attract this wayward son of
the Prophet, and she was always mistress of her home, for

he never openly presented her with a rival. She bore her
neglect with angelic resignation, and, still a widow, she has
never been heard to utter a complaint. She tenderly loved
Said's son Toussoun, born of one of her slaves, who was sub-sequently
made next to herself in importance. Toussoun,
the son, died during my residence in Egypt. I shall speak
of him hereafter. Ill for a long time, Saïd waited his summons
like a true fatalist, and as is usual with Eastern
people, all his sycophantic courtiers abandoned the setting
for the rising sun with the exception of a Frenchman, who
remained true to the last. Saïd had prepared a mausoleum
at the Barrage, always a favorite spot in his memory, and
desired as a last request to be entombed there; but Ismail,
his successor, refused to obey the injunction, and ordered
his body to be placed in the tomb at Alexandria, where it
still remains.

CHAPTER V.
TANTA.

A peculiar Oriental city—The scene of one of the greatest fêtes and fairs of
the Orient—Scenes at Tanta—The Saint Ahmed el Bedowee—His function
as a patron and intercessor—The mosque raised to his memory—
Phases of the great fair—A gathering from all parts of the Mahometan
world—The Tanta fête a survival of the licentious orgies of Isis at the
ancient city near this site—Dervishes and dancing girls—The games of
the people.

NOT long after embarking on his dahabeeyah, the most
luxurious of river boats, though primitive in its model, the
traveller beholds, as he ascends the Nile, the homes of the
fellaheen. These mud villages, made up of hovels consisting
of a single room lighted by the doorway, are noisome
and filthy abodes. In the home of perennial spring the
fellaheen—men, women, and children—are clothed in a
simple blue cotton chemise and white cotton drawers, which
make up the whole apparel for both sexes. The mud hut
in which the fellah dwells contains no furniture but a mat
and a few clay vessels for cooking purposes. The disgust
and pity of the tourist are increased on entering one of
these squalid abodes. Donkeys, sheep, and chickens share
the narrow quarters with the human animals, while the best
part of every hovel—the sugar-loaf shaped upper part—is
given over entirely to pigeons, by the breeding of which the
peasants earn a good share of their revenue.

And yet, overcrewded as they are, amid wretched and
unsanitary conditions, the Nile peasants seem contented
enough. Indeed, they are not disposed to accept a better
condition even when it is offered them. Saïd Pacha sought

to benefit them by building model villages with well-made
streets and abundant house-room for each family, but
after a brief experience of better living the fellaheen returned
to their huts, and could never again be persuaded to
accept the more comfortable homes offered them.

As one scans the Delta the picture is relieved by the
sharply-defined minarets of the stone mosques which are
found in every village. The roads are bordered by the
beautiful acacia and popinack trees, with their wealth of
highly perfumed blossoms. In other climates during the
winter season hoary frost hides the prospect, but here the
waving green plain astonishes the stranger, who is enraptured
with such unaccustomed beauties.

Crossing the Rosetta branch of the Nile, midway between
it and the Damietta branch, we find Tanta, located
in the centre of the fertile valley of the Delta, a perfectly
Oriental and very important city. The best time at which
to visit this city is during the summer fair, which occurs
yearly in the month of July. For weeks before that time
there is commotion throughout Egypt. Social and commercial
interests are aroused, and all the various Mahometan
sects are interested in the approaching event. Great
crowds of dervishes, with their green and parti-colored
flags, swarm in irregular masses through the country, on
their way to say their prayers at Tanta and to do some
honest begging during the great fair. Men, women, and
children, mounted on camels, donkeys, and horses, throng
the roads, while thousands on foot are seen for days and
nights wending their way to the seat of pleasure and religion.
Not only Egypt, but all Africa, Eastern Europe, and
Asia send religious votaries and merchants with silks,
satins, embroideries, and every kind of merchandise to
tempt the Eastern buyer.

Amid the throngs who come with merchandise come also
those who bring daintier wares in human form—beautiful
houris, virgins sent forth by their Circassian or Georgian

mothers to find an asylum in the land of the Nile. These
maidens have been carefully nurtured to be made marketable,
and are happy if they succeed in becoming the property
—wife or slave, as the case may be—of some rich Bey or
Pacha. It is still the custom—though now slightly veiled
—to fix a price upon these young women, the sum varying
with the beauty of the merchandise. The girl whose marriage
in this market is pecuniarily successful is happy in the
thought that she has done well for herself and her parents,
and her success induces her young kinswomen to follow her
from their bleak homes in the Caucasus to the sunnier
climate of Egypt. Her sisters look forward to marrying in
the same way, while her brothers are, by her favor, educated
in the military schools for employment in the army or
the civil service. She thus provides for the future of her
kinsmen by her marriage, often raising the sons of an
obscure family to positions of profit and honor.

Tanta has of late years become a considerable mart for
European commerce. The remarkable growth of cotton
and sugar culture in the rich valleys around the city has
greatly increased the value of the land and the attractiveness
of the region. The town is thoroughly Oriental, and
except a few European merchants the inhabitants are all
Arabs. There are found here on every hand the mudhouses
and the narrow, filthy streets filled with throngs of
people, and, of course, unclean animals, ready, unlike the
Arabs, to dispute the stranger's path. There are, however,
some stone houses of little architectural beauty, relieved
now and then by an attempt at the Moresque. The city's
grand object of attraction is the tomb of its saint, which is
found in one of the finest mosques in Egypt. The architect
from whose hand this mosque came displayed the
finest Saracenic taste in chiselling its columns and in pencilling
its Oriental tracery. Its architectural ornamentation
exhibits great skill, after the best models of the ancient
style. No part of it is more attractive than the huge glittering

Byzantine dome, its brazen mantle, always reflecting
the eternal sun of Egypt. The inner decorations are interesting
and beautiful in their simplicity. The catafalque of
the holy Saint Saïd Ahmed el Bedowee is covered with rich
red velvet, adorned with embroidery and inclosed within a
handsome bronze railing. The light and airy minarets
beside the dome of the mosque pierce high up into the
heavens, and around them above the roof are railed piazzas,
from which the shrill cries of the muezzins, as they chant
the adan or call to prayer, are in quaint harmony with the
additional proclamation that “there is no Deity but God;
I testify Mahomet is his Prophet.” Climbing to this
eminence, the picturesque scene is bewildering; the city of
60,000 inhabitants is beneath you, and on the level plain of
the Delta for miles around, extending beyond the range of
vision, are spread the tents of half a million people, with
thousands of horses, donkeys, cattle, sheep, goats, camels,
and buffaloes, a living and variegated panorama. Descending
to earth again, the scene which meets you is even more
astonishing. As usual, the traditional Arab, in his blue
chemise, without shoes, and with camel's-hair tarboosh,
meets you at every turn. His wife may be met elsewhere,
perhaps, but never in his company in public. Her dress is
like his own, but she is always veiled. If a wealthy sister,
she wears yellow shoes, a rich colored silk dress, and a
black silk habarah, which covers her person. She is often
seen with stockings down upon her heels, unless her broad
satin trousers hide them from observation, as she awkwardly
ambles along. The Syrian, Turk, Ethiopian, Algerian,
Tunisian, European, Greek, Persian, American, and
Jew, with many other strange people, pass in review, the
head-dress being the distinguishing mark of faith and
nationality. Men of all races make up this varied and
extraordinary scene. Tired of wandering through this sea
of humanity, and suffocated with the myriads of smells,
one gladly leaves these material things to seek an asylum

near the shrine of the renowned saint, who brings so many
thousands of other saints and sinners to do honor to his
tomb, many of whom seek the aid of his miraculous power.
Saïd was born at Fez, and on his return from Mecca remained
at Tanta, where he died; his fête has continued
for six hundred years since his death, to serve the purposes
of trade as well as those of worship. It attracts all the
religious who are able to come, as no other saint in the
Egyptian calendar is held to be so sacred. Many think he
is the successor to the god Sebennetus, the Egyptian Hercules,
whose attributes were given him by popular tradition.
His aid is invoked when sudden calamity threatens, and the
Egyptians believe that storms or accidents are avoided by
calling out to him, “Ya Saïd, ya Bedowee;” and the song
of “Gab el Yoosra” (“He brought back the captives”)
records the power of this wonderful saint. The Arab has
peculiarly appropriated his aid, as in the second call to
prayer, chanted one hour before day, when his power is
invoked under the name of “Aboo Tarag,” Sheik of the
Arabs. After a long residence in Egypt and intimate association
with all classes of the people, from the dwellers in
palaces to those who inhabit mud huts or wander over the
desert, my conviction is strong that—whether Copt, Christian,
or Mahometan—the people of Egypt largely derive
their religious beliefs and their customs from the superstitions
of the ancient Egyptians. The Koran with its scimitar
has neither desired nor had the power to uproot them.
I am acquainted with numerous rites common among the
ancient Egyptians which are of daily use among these
haters of polytheism.

In their wisdom they say it is the teaching of their law
to accept traditions coming down to them through the ages,
when not inconsistent with Mahometanism, and that this
binds them by invisible threads to their faith. This is particularly
the case among the Bedouins of the desert.
Alone in these mighty wastes, they conjure up innumerable

superstitions and mingle them with those old patriarchal
customs, which they still retain in nearly the exact forms of
which we read in the Old Testament. Among all classes of
Mahometans it is the fixed belief that Saïd has the
miraculous power of curing sterility in woman. It is the
inviolable right of every barren woman to vow a visit to
this saint, and her husband never opposes her sacred purpose.
On the contrary, he is delighted with the hope and
belief that her prayers at the tomb will have the effect of
giving them offspring. Without children, in the eye of the
Faithful the Mahometan woman is dishonored, and of
course she never fails to worship at this shrine if it be
possible for her do so. It is considered a violation of all
propriety for a husband to be seen with his wife, and under
no circumstances does he journey with her. She rarely or
never leaves home at any other time, and in coming hither,
if she belongs to the better class, she is accompanied by the
faithful guardian whose duty it is to watch over her honor.
So, too, the wife of the fellah, barefooted and dressed in
blue, but without a guardian, visits the shrine with a
similar hope to secure the saint's efficient mediation.
Tanta during the fair is a scene of joyous mirth, and the
women—usually caged birds, but now let loose—enter
gayly into the festivities. In thorough disguise, they are
lost to sight in the vast multitude. At the end of eight
days, the time allotted for prayer and for the intercession
of the saint, they return home in the full belief that their
devotions have been blessed.

I am sorry to write that the picturesque scene is too
often marred by the licentiousness so common among
Orientals, and Tanta yearly witnesses orgies only comparable
with those of the ancient city of Busiris, which was
situated a few miles distant in this valley. It was there
the fête of Isis was celebrated by all Egypt, and truth
makes it necessary to say that the modern city, in following
the traditions of centuries, rivals her ancient sister in those

scenes which made the modest Father of History blush
when writing the amazing story of the worship of that
famous goddess.

Making one's way through the vast mob, with its fleas,
flies, and horrible odors, it is a pleasant relief to meet a
perfumed houri veiled in her black silk habara. She is unknown,
of course, for not even her husband could recognize
this waddling bundle of goods. The Pacha is easily recognized
as an officer of the government by his European
costume, modified by the red tarboosh, the broad black
trousers, and a highly colored silken vest. A rich Israelite
follows—a gem merchant—in costly robes of striped silk
secured at the waist by a rich Cashmere shawl; he, too,
wears the tarboosh and red slippers. The European in the
tall hat is doubtless an English tourist, for, unlike men of
greater adaptability, the Englishman never changes his
dress with his climate. The hat is the only thing visible
above the heads of the bystanders, and there are thousands
of persons in this throng who have never seen head-gear of
that description before. It is to them the most singular if
not the most picturesque of coverings, and while its wearer
remains within view they never cease to murmur “Inglesi.”
The proud and untamable Bedouin puts in his
appearance with his white woollen burnous—a sort of
blanket—covering his head. Binding the burnous with a
cord, he permits it to envelop his person, and is then the
only really independent man in the vast throng.

Going back to the vicinity of the mosque, your path is
blocked by the crowds of howling saints who make up the
numerous sects of dervishes. Among them are numbers of
the dancing sect, whose votaries swing themselves around
in whirling circles for hours to the monotonous music of the
lute. They make night hideous with their screeching
prayers, simply singing the name of Allah in concert for
hours until their violent devotions end in convulsions.

The Saades sect of serpent-charmers, who profess the

dark power of controlling vipers, are also represented.
They make a precarious living by travelling over Egypt
displaying their magical gifts and freeing the habitations of
the people from reptiles. When any religious fête is to take
place they are certain to be present. These modern
Psylli, who pretend to make serpents their playthings and
to charm them with their call, profess also to cure their
bite. They are greatly venerated by the Mahometans.
The story of the origin of this numerous sect, who have
their own holy sheik, is that an ingenious Syrian was sent
by his master to gather some sticks, but, after cutting
them, found that he had brought no cord with which to
bind them together. Having seen a nest of snakes near
by, he twined the reptiles around his fagots and thus bore
them to the house. When the bundle was thrown down
before the master the serpents crawled off with the sticks,
and the astonished man at once declared his servant to be
a saint gifted with miraculous powers, and advised him to
enter without delay upon his holy office. This the Syrian
did, soon gaining many disciples at Damascus. His tomb
there is filled with venomous creatures, among which his
disciples say they can lie without danger. I have seen
these people during the ceremony of the doseh (riding over
the human road) at Cairo, seize a live cobra, the most
deadly of snakes, two inches from its head, still with the
poisonous fang unextracted, they say, though this I do not
credit. They bite the reptile's head off, chew it, and, I am
told, in some instances swallow it; but I have always noticed
when near them that some friend stands immediately
behind the “performer,” and, unobserved, runs his finger
in his mouth and takes out the hideous morsel. During
the time that the snake operator is performing, his agitation
and contortions are hideous, requiring several persons to
hold him; but my observation is that all this is affected.
These people cure the bite of a snake by scarifying the
flesh and sucking the poison out, first putting lemon juice

in their mouths. There is a pustule that often breaks out
upon long residents in the East, which, it is said, is caused
by the breath of the serpent, but which really comes from
sleeping in the open air. The snake-charmers make a liniment
of cerese and oil of sesame with which they cure the
malady.

It is necessary to advert to the Almée, one of the accessories
of a Mahometan religious festival, without which
dance the Beys and Pachas would return to their homes
chagrined, and a stranger who happens to sojourn in Egypt
in the summer, and who is certain to visit the fair, would
think it had lost its chief attraction. We find the Pacha
squatted with numerous acquaintances around him, anxiously
awaiting the appearance of the fair Circassians.
Dignified he sits, apparently in deep thought, smoking his
chibouque, but really thinking, as usual, about nothing.
The dancers are generally three or four young girls, beautifully
dressed in Oriental costumes, with light, gauzy pantaloons.
Soon with tiny feet, and their slight figures prettily
cambered, they glide into the dance, and all are pleased with
their poetry of motion in harmony with the slow cadence of
voices and the soft strains of the kanoon and kamingah. It
would be much more pleasing if with their provocative blue
eyes, fringed with long velvety lashes, one had not to
encounter the smile of bold voluptuousness which plays
over their features during this peculiar dance. It must be
seen to be appreciated; it can never be described.

I have often had occasion to speak of the freedom of
worship tolerated in Egypt under Ismail Pacha. In most
cities and villages the cross is seen side by side with the
crescent. No man asks whether you go to the Christian
church or the Mahometan mosque. There is one thing
the Mahometan will not concede, however, and that is
the right to quit the fold of the Faithful. Death is the
penalty. I heard of but one case in which the apostate
escaped, and he had to fly to save himself from being killed

by his own family. Mahometans say they do not care to
proselytize; that there are as many Mahometans now
as they want to meet in heaven; but neither will they suffer
apostasy to go unpunished. Notwithstanding the tolerance
mentioned, the Mahometan, with few exceptions,
hates all Christians; but the feeling is kept in check by the
government, and has to find expression otherwise than in
violence. At one time—I do not know that it is so now—
the throngs at Tanta gave expression to their contempt for
Christians in a masquerade, in which the Crusaders were
caricatured for the amusement of the ignorant. The custom
was handed down from a more intolerant age. There
are at Tanta a number of suits of armor, said to have been
taken in battle during a more martial era in the history of
this race. I believe, however, they are the same that Saïd
Pacha had manufactured for his Nubian guard. It will be
recollected that St. Louis was defeated at Mansourah on
his way to Cairo by the Caliph El-Saleh-Ayoub in 1249. A
number of Arabs dress themselves in these costumes, some
representing the sons of the Prophet and others the Christian
Crusaders. The latter, as a matter of course, are
vanquished, and the sport consists in chasing them ignominiously
from the battle-field. A more amusing scene is
the dressing up of one of their number as a venerable individual,
whom they make up as a Pacha, Bey, or some other
dignitary hated by the people. The multitude follow him,
resorting to every device to show their contempt. A good
runner is selected for the part, who distances his pursuers
and so ends the sport.

CHAPTER VI.
THE FELLAH AND HIS MASTER.

The ancestry of the Egyptian peasant—His condition, past and present—
Results of ages of slavery and wretchedness—Misrepresentations of his
character—The kourbash and enforced labor—Efforts made to improve
his condition during the reign of the present dynasty—The average
Egyptian—The effect on him of his religion—Ismail's attempt to sweep
away intolerance — Impossibility of reform in Mahometan countries
except through a material change in their present religion.

THE most interesting person in Egypt, and one with
whom acquaintance is soon formed, is the fellah. The descendant,
not improbably, of those who built the Pyramids,
we see him to-day a toiler in the mud, wearing nothing but
a rag around his loins. Or perhaps he may be in some cases
of the blood of those victorious warriors who followed the
green banner of the Prophet into the heart of Asia, Africa,
and Europe. In either case his descent is illustrious. But
for many centuries the plight of the Egyptian fellah has been
a wretched one. He has served as a beast of burden under
foreign taskmasters during centuries of misrule. The inference
would be that all vitality has been beaten out of him;
that though he wears the likeness of a man, harsh treatment
has transformed him into a beast that cares for nothing except
to crawl into its house when the day's work is done.
Recent events, however, have shown very clearly that the
fellah is not altogether the spiritless animal described by
casual tourists, who take their opinions at second-hand from
the dragoman employed to guide them in their hurried rush
through the country. A writer in Blackwood's Magazine
for August, 1881, who pretends to know the fellah, does

not give his true character when he tells us that “he is so
accustomed to the lash that he rather prefers it,” giving an
illustration which he avers came under his own observation
while staying with an official who was repairing canals.
His statement is that a man who had persistently shirked
his work, seemingly overcome by conscience, voluntarily
came to the official one day and said that he was prepared
to go to work, but that he could not do so without being
compelled. He had never in his life worked on a canal
until beaten, and there was apparently something repugnant
to his feelings in doing so, even for pay, without this
salutary stimulant; he therefore asked for a hundred blows
of the kourbash upon the soles of his feet. The punishment
was administered, though contrary to law; the man's
conscience was relieved, and he went to work in a happy
frame of mind. Again, it is stated that under the Bondholders'
rule the old device of the Inquisition, of beating
confessions out of the people charged with crime, has been
found necessary, and is now in use. If this writer's statements
are true, is it to be wondered at that riots accompanied
by a cry against Christian rule so constantly occur?
The writer of the above-mentioned article, in giving the
incident in illustration of the value of the kourbash, which
recently came under his observation, says: “It will be
seen that it has too strong a hold upon the people to be
readily abandoned, and, indeed, although it is nominally
prohibited by law, its use is largely resorted to sub rosa—
by the native officials, especially in the detection of crime.”

The Egyptian fellah, relieved from excessive apprehension,
no doubt feels a natural exultation. Like many more
favored races, he prefers enjoying his ease when not compelled
to work, and congratulates himself that the time is
past when he can be forced to it. It is not at all surprising
that he shirks when called upon to labor on the canals and
other public works without pay. It is of course right that
at certain periods he should give his labor for the public

good, as the country is purely agricultural, and, besides needing
constant irrigation, is subject to inundations. The repairing of canals
under such conditions is necessary for the general weal, and the right to
impress labor has at one time or another been enforced among all
nations. But in, Egypt the right to compel the toil of the peasant class
rested on no such necessity, but depended solely upon the caprice of
tyrannical officials, high and low. Hard as it is upon the fellaheen, the
system of government established. by Mehemet Ali on the ruins of
Turkish rule is a great im¬provement upon the wretched tyranny under
which Egypt had groaned for two centuries before. The Turkish rule
was a sort of feudal system under the Mamelukes, with a Turkish
Pacha in nominal control. Complete anarchy reigned. The men of
the governing class were aliens, having neither social ties nor personal
interest in the country. The Turkish Pacha was an intriguer, who
usually paid a large sum for his appointment, and who used his
authority only to enrich himself. So long as his own revenues were
received he cared little what the officials under him did to the fellaheen.
This system of grinding misrule received its first great check from
Napoleon at the Pyramids and from Kleber on the plains of Heliopolis;
the finishing stroke was given it by Mehemet Ali, the fisherman of Cavalla.

To understand properly the condition of things at the present time it
is necessary to follow still further Mehemet Ali and his peculiar
tactics in establishing his system of government. There was little that
he would not sacrifice to his ambition, though it must be borne in
mind that in all he did he moved like a man of sense toward a certain
independence, which was really for the ultimate good of the people.
Before claiming supreme power at the hands of the Sultan, it was
necessary to break down all the petty governments around him
and to consolidate them in his single hand. This Mehemet Ali did,
at any and every cost. The last blow in silencing all conflicting interests.

was the crushing of the Mamelukes. Perfect and complete
despotism followed. This accomplished, Mehemet's first
step was to replace all officials of every rank by his immediate
friends, holding tightly the reins of power, and thus it
was that the fellah was ruled by one despot instead of
many. The fellah was materially benefited in this change,
for when acts of oppression came to the ears of Mehemet
the remedy was swift and severe.

Seizing upon the whole country, the most of it a waste,
he divided it out among his relations and high officers, and
finally among the soldiers and fellaheen. Rich lands were
given, with poor lands attached, which the holders were
required to cultivate, so that the greater part of Egypt
where the waters of the Nile could reach the land was
brought under cultivation. It was so arranged that the
taxes should fall more heavily upon the rich than upon the
poor lands, and his decrees were so directed that the whole
people, rich and poor, should become owners of the soil.
Another consideration with him was the cutting, improving,
and regular repairing of canals. It was his custom to
superintend personally, and to compel his sons and the rich
landholders to help and encourage the people to labor in
this work of necessity. This gave rise afterward to what
was called the corvée system of forced labor, which under
the old soldier worked for the good of the people, though
subsequently it gave rise to many abuses, as it could be
perverted for the benefit of high personages. Vigilant in
all departments, he wrought many improvements and
changes, some of which remain to this day. He left to his
successor the germ of a powerful and well-organized government,
but of course could not legislate or decree against
misrule and decay, when his great power should fall to
the keeping of corrupt and weak descendants. Abbas, as
already stated, reversed his whole system, introducing a
new order of things and eschewing European influence both
in commerce and government. It should be said in justice

to him, however, that he took a deep interest in the welfare
of the fellaheen, though he persecuted the rich; but as he
crushed out all other great interests, his people suffered.
It can be truly said of Saïd that he was like a bright
meteor. His sense of utility manifested itself in paroxysms.
At last his people groaned under a deeper bondage than
that which had oppressed them under the cruel Abbas.
When Ismail seized the reins of the state he found Egypt
£8,000,000 in debt, with a strong European control in all
the departments. The interior economy of the state was
administered only for the rich, and despite all the good intentions
which had animated Saïd, everything was in the
hands of officials who ruled solely for their own aggrandizement.
Never in the history of any nation were there
greater exactions; the very last piastre was wrung from
the poor wretches who tilled the soil. Such was the inheritance
of Ismail Pacha. The Khedive, who commenced his
reign in 1863, evinced every desire to build up his country
and elevate the fellaheen who composed the great mass of
the people. The just and upright motives which prompted
him were patent to all intelligent observers of facts which
were of daily occurrence. The conclusion early in his relgn
was that his ambition pointed in the direction of independent
empire. Whether or not this was the case, it was
clear that he was deeply interested in the amelioration and
education of his people. There was nothing which so brutalized
the fellah as the indiscriminate use of the lash.
Ismail set his foot on this outrage, and never failed to mete
out severe punishment to officials who exercised undue
cruelty, when the facts were made known to him. He
listened patiently to the murmurs of his subjects, and was
always well pleased to remedy their grievances. The
writer personally knew him to do many acts of the highest
humanity, in righting the wrongs of his people at the
expense of officials high in rank and importance. If there
were no other public act to show the bent of his mind, his

course in abolishing slavery would be sufficient. It matters
little what may have been his reasons, the fact stands; his
act was of his own will, and he was in no way responsible
to others. So far, then, he is entitled to the good opinion
of the world. The abolition of slavery was part of the
great policy he had marked out for himself. He instituted
schools for the education of vast numbers of people, and
did what no other Oriental had ever done—namely, established
schools under the patronage of one of his queens for
the education of the female children, believing that if you
educate the women of a country you elevate the men.
He introduced new systems of agriculture and the most
approved modern improvements—cotton-gins, sugar-mills,
refineries, and steam pumps for raising water and for
irrigation. Vast forest plantings, railroad and telegraph
building, and the cutting of many canals, not only to irrigate
but to reclaim deserts, stand, with many other acts of
beneficent policy, as monuments of his goodness and
wisdom. Besides perfecting the harbor of Alexandria, he
constructed a magnificent quay, which stretches a mile into
the Red Sea at Suez, for the commerce of India; dry
docks equal to any in the world at Suez and Alexandria,
and several iron bridges, notably the grand bridge across
the Nile at Cairo. The construction of the Opera-House
at Cairo is a monument to his taste in the fine arts. But
for him and his liberal policy, notwithstanding the vast
concessions of Saïd, the Suez Canal would never have been
built. Tolerant of all creeds, he gave liberally of land to
any denomination of Christians, and, Mussulman as he was,
he was always willing to aid in erecting beautiful Christian
churches. There was nothing that this liberal and noble-spirited
ruler did not do to aid the progress of his country;
and though many persons, ignorant of the truth, still claim
that the fellah is the same hewer of wood and drawer of
water, the same abject slave that he was previous to
Ismail's reign, he is really much better off than before, bad

as his lot still is. It must be remembered that it took
Europe many centuries to rise from a semi-barbaric condition,
so far as the masses of the people were concerned. It
was not to be expected that Ismail should have had the
best government in the world. Visitors who lounged at
their hotels in Alexandria and Cairo were shocked when
they journeyed on the Nile to find that the people were not
so enlightened as the shopkeepers about Cairo, forgetting
that only a few years ago they were all but savages.
Straightway a tale of woe was unfolded, and newspaper
articles, letters, and books were written for the humane to
shudder over. Those whose experience of the country
covers a decade or two can see great changes for the better;
and when we remember that Ismail forced civilization
upon Egypt quite as far as it was possible to do so without
creating a destructive revolution, it cannot be denied or
doubted that he was a great reformer and benefactor. On
the other hand, it is due to truth to admit the folly and
wrong of Ismail's lavish outlay upon palaces and dinners,
his waste of great sums on his harems and their gardens,
his huge expenditure for iron-clads in the foolish hope of
building up a navy, and his boundless extravagance in
entertaining the world at the opening of the Suez Canal.
The leeches who wantonly sucked the blood of the fellaheen,
however, were the Sultan and the idlers about him.
It is necessary to mention another great item of expenditure.
This was the paying of hotel bills and the cost of
steamboat excursions up the Nile for innumerable princes
and other dignitaries. In visiting censure upon the head
of Ismail for this last form of extravagance, however, it is
necessary to remember the circumstances in which he was
placed. His Oriental training had taught him that the
offering of such hospitality was obligatory upon him, and
when he offered it the visiting kings, princes, and dignitaries
eagerly accepted it. Ismail believed, too, that in extending
his splendid hospitality to foreign potentates and

their representatives he was making his country attractive
and winning powerful friends for himself on a throne which
he knew was coveted. His hope that these his guests, who
so gladly and greedily fared sumptuously at his expense,
would give a thought to his welfare after the feasting was
done, was founded in a now obvious, though pardonable,
delusion. He was repeatedly assured that the increase in
productions and the rise in the value of lands would more
than balance all indebtedness. The investment of his enormous
private fortune in landed estates, together with the
extensive purchase of machinery and implements of agriculture,
plainly show the confidence he had in the schemes
into which he was persuaded. Disaster to the finances of
the country and the ruin of his own fortune were the result.
Neither the state treasury nor the Khedive personally was
able to meet even the interest on the immense loans contracted
by them, and creditors at once became clamorous.

The Egyptian learns rapidly, languages especially, but
never goes deeply into anything. He displays some aptitude
for mathematics, but rarely sufficient to enable him to
apply his knowledge to practical affairs. This is obviously
true of the Arab officers, even when educated in the Egyptian
military schools or in Europe. The reader is probably
aware that the Mahometan religion is largely responsible
for this lack of intellectual stamina. The Koran is the
Moslem's measure for all allowable science, literature, and
art, and whatever oversteps its sacred metes and bounds is
impious. The greater the religious sincerity the more
stunted is the intellectual growth of the Mussulman. The
precepts of the Koran form his character and shape his destiny.
It penetrates every detail of his daily life, and rules
even his most intimate domestic relations. It makes the
yoke of the most crushing despotism the will of God.
Even trades and professions are under its control. It is
primarily responsible for the degradation of woman to the
position of a toy and a slave. Everywhere in Egypt and

the Turkish possessions the harem is filled with women, the
property of one man who controls it. Ismail abolished
slavery and strove strenuously to enforce the law, but he
was impotent to vanquish a habit so deeply rooted in tradition
and the faith. Reforms may be attempted, and partial
and temporary success attend the effort; but there
never can be any lasting advance in education, morals, or
government without a radical change in the religion of the
East. Slavery in the household is the same to-day that it
has been for centuries. Though outside of the harem
Ismail succeeded in abolishing it, he did not dare push the
reform to its fullest extent. It was said he proposed to
open the harem doors. I believe it; but he was confronted
by the stern protest of the leading men of his religion.
Though a Mahometan despot, it is but justice to say that
he struck at numerous time-honored customs, and endeavored
to elevate his people in spite of themselves. But the
task was beyond his strength. The Egyptian race will continue
to languish under the iron heel of the so-called Islam
much of it really in contradiction to the Koran, until some
Arab Luther shall arise to strike off their fetters. They
have the old Israelitish idea that they are the “chosen of
God,” and intrench themselves in their besotted ignorance
against every form of progress as something contrary to
Allah's command. Their daily prayer is, “O God, assist
the forces of the Moslems and the armies of the Unitarians.
O God, frustrate the infidels and the polytheists, thine
enemies, the enemies of thy religion. O God, invest their
banners and ruin their habitations, and give them and their
wealth as booty to the Moslems!” In their daily lesson
to their children they teach them to say, “O God, destroy
the infidel and the polytheist, thine enemies, the enemies
of thy religion. O God, make their children orphans, and
defile their abodes, and cause their feet to slip, and give
them and their families and their household and their
women, their children and their relations by marriage, and

their brothers and their friends, and their possessions and
their wealth, and their race and their lands, as booty to the
Moslems, O Lord of the beings of the whole world.”

It is no wonder that these people are ignorant and superstitious,
and are carried away by the pride of religion, when
the same barbarous lesson is taught that led their ancestors
to rapine and plunder, and is the doctrine implanted in the
mind of the present generation. Under the strong government
of Ismail, Christians were treated with apparent cordiality,
and there were many evidences of toleration among
numbers of the people. They often said: “Of what use
to convert a thousand infidels? Would it increase the
number of the Faithful? By no means: the number of
the Faithful is decreed by God, and no act of man can
increase or diminish it.” As a rule, however, in his heart
the Moslem contemns a Christian, and, strong in his belief,
is proof against proselyting. It matters not whether he
observes or neglects his own religion, he is equally fanatical
in despising all others. The more elevated his position,
the bitterer is his contempt for all others. I have never
met with a single Mussulman who has left his faith or who
ever proclaimed himself an unbeliever. While many make
no outward show, thousands are very strict in the observance
of their religion's rules. They never squander their
devotions in private, but pray most demonstratively in
public, “to be seen of men” and esteemed as true believers.
This public parade is considered highly praiseworthy.
Many of their religious leaders value that and
nothing else. Their profession relieves them from many
burdens, and they work themselves into feigned ecstasies,
professing to rely solely upon Allah for the future. To
judge the whole people by this class, one would infer that
they were all governed by unmitigated fatalism. But my
acquaintance with the Eastern people in their every-day life
justifies me in saying that if it ever was a controlling principle,
they have greatly changed. I never knew one praying,

or otherwise engaged, who did not keep a sharp lookout
for danger; or who, if interrupted in his prayer or in his
meditations on nothing, did not curse the person interrupting
him and all his relations for generations, and then take
good care to get out of the way as fast as possible. I have
never known a single instance where they suffered bodily
harm rather than forego their prayer.

I knew an officer in the Egyptian army who, I believe,
for nearly eight years never failed to fulfil all the obligations
of his religion, which was an immense ordeal, besides
attending strictly to all his duties as a man and an officer.
He made the necessary ablutions five times a day. When
not employed, he was mumbling a prayer or a chapter of
the Koran. If there ever was a true Mahometan, he was
one. Nevertheless, I have seen him get out of danger in
the midst of the most earnest prayer, and have heard him
congratulate himself heartily upon his luck in doing it,
giving Allah, of course, credit for saving him. He has
often interrupted his prayer to give me information he
knew I wanted, and has then fallen to praying again.
Mahometans have an idea that going to Mecca and
Medina has a good deal to do with saving their souls.
Though a Christian, I obtained for my Arab friend authority
to go to the tomb of the Prophet and come back a
Hadji. It seemed to me that the pilgrimage weakened his
ejaculatory vigor. He thought his seat in Paradise safe, so
it was no longer necessary to demonstrate before infidels
and unbelievers. It is true I have seen large bodies of
soldiers suffer massacre when strong enough to defend
themselves and punish their enemies, but this I attribute to
the cowardice of their officers, who fled at the approach of
danger and left their men, accustomed to follow them
blindly, to the mercy of the foe. When dealing with the
Abyssinian war, however, I shall have to recount instances
where, with death staring them in the face, their fatalism
was unmistakable.

It is impossible to portray the condition of Mahometan
countries better than in the few simple words of one of the
ablest and most observing of our American travellers in the
East. “Wherever that religion exists, there follow inevitable
despotism and slavery, by which it crushes man, as by
its polygamy and organized licentiousness it degrades and
crushes woman. Polygamy, despotism, and slavery form
the trinity of woes which Mahometanism has caused to
weigh for ages like a nightmare upon the whole Eastern
world.”*

So immense a fabric, founded upon superstition and
cemented by ages, cannot, as the writer says, pass away in a
day. I have already stated my conviction that the iron
crust is broken and the “fervid heat” is burning into the
heart of Islam. “The combined influence of civilization
and Christianity” is slowly but surely sapping the foundations
of Mahometanism, and the star which shone so
brightly 1800 years ago is, I think, destined to shed its
light once again in the East where it rose.

* Rev. Dr. Field.

CHAPTER VII.
ISMAIL PACHA.

Ismail, the successor of Saïd Pacha—Great rejoicings on his accession—
Wealth and energy of this prince—How the Suez Canal came to be built
—Why Pharaoh Necho in ancient Egypt and Mehemet Ali in modern
Egypt refused to permit such a canal to be cut—Effects of the Suez
Canal complications on Egypt—Ismail's course toward the bondholders
—De Lesseps an able and shrewd schemer—Ismail's policy in the government
of Egypt—Description of the man—His attempts at reform.

SAÏD PACHA assumed the viceroyalty of Egypt amid the
rejoicings of his people. They had been crushed under the
cruel and imbecile Abbas Pacha, his nephew. Saïd was in
the vigor of manhood and full of confidence. He projected
many grand schemes, but few of which were consummated
during his reign of ten years. He died friendless and
insolvent. Though vastly superior to his predecessor in
personal qualities, still his government was a failure and
bankrupted the country. Sanguine of something better,
the Egyptian people welcomed Ismail Pacha to the viceregal
throne with rejoicings greater than had welcomed any
previous ruler.

They knew that he had been schooled under the best instructors
of the day, that he was a planter and merchant
prince, and one of the most accomplished Egyptians who
had ever been called to rule over them. They were aware
that while those nearest the throne were toying away their
time in the salons 01 Paris, or hunting the gazelle upon the
deserts of Africa, he was a tiller of the soil, who, avoiding
the fascinations and extravagances of the court of Saïd,
had devoted himself to cultivating cotton and cane.

Ismail Pacha, late Khedive of Egypt.

Spending his surplus money while a prince in beautifying
Egypt with costly buildings and palaces, for which he had
always a weakness, he gave early promise of beneficence
and progress. The people, seeing for the first time a man
of sense and a successful working prince at the head of
their government, seemed to have great reason for cordially
welcoming the new ruler.

Ismail ascended the throne during the time of the Civil
War in America, and early perceiving from the vast proportions
of the struggle that cotton-growing, in which he
was so successful, would receive a severe check in the
United States, turned his energies and great capital to its
more extensive culture. From this and the cultivation of
cane he added enormously to his already colossal fortune.
Said having already pledged Egypt to the cutting of the
Suez Canal, it remained for Ismail to redeem the pledge.
A brief historical sketch of this great work is in place here.
Necho, that wise old Pharaoh who lived 600 years before
the Christian era, connected the Bitter Lakes and Lake
Timsah on the Isthmus of Suez , midway between the Red
Sea and the Mediterranean, by a canal with the Nile.
Similar canals existed from a very early period contiguous
to it and running through what is now called the Land of
Goshen. By some convulsion of nature, or possibly the
neglect of the government, these works entirely disappeared,
the lakes dried up, the Land of Goshen became an
arid waste, and much of it remains so to this day. During
his reign Ismail constructed a broad, deep canal connecting
the Suez Canal in a direct line from Ismailia with the Nile,
and these barren wastes are beginning to bloom with vegetation,
while trade and travel begin again to make the land
of the Israelites look as it did in the olden time. The Pharaoh
of the day of which we speak was urged to connect the
two seas, but his country having been marvellously blessed
for uncounted centuries with a dense and thriving population,
he concluded that they could only lose by too daring

attempts at progress. It was held with some reason that
other nations would be inevitably precipitated upon the
country in their anxiety for the commerce of the East, and
that Egypt would be swallowed up in the whirlpool of
ambitious competition. Policy at that time prevented the
connection of the two seas. Two thousand years afterward
history repeated itself. Mehemet Ali, the founder of the
present dynasty, an untutored fisherman, but a man of extraordinary
sense, was harried by speculators and consuls-general
for the concession of men and money to connect
the seas. Unaware that a remote predecessor had decided
against it, the new Pharaoh gave nearly the same reasons
for steadily rejecting their overtures, incredulous of the
great benefit to Egypt so generously promised. Many
years elapsed, and Saïd, his son, became Viceroy. When
a prince he had been the friend of De Lesseps, and he now
lent his ear to the able and wily Frenchman. Lesseps succeeded
in despite of England, for England steadily opposed
the project with all her influence. Time rolled on, money
failed, and the great work was lingering when Ismail Pacha
became Khedive. Though he knew it would be fatal to
the immediate interests of his country by taking the great
Indian travel directly through the canal and making Egypt
simply a toll-gate for that and its commerce, yet he believed
that in the distant future it would not only add lustre to his
name, but confer great benefits upon Egypt. The concession
had been granted, and sooner or later the great work
must be completed; therefore it was worse than folly to
stop its progress, and through him, his money, and his
people, the Suez Canal was opened to the nations of the
world. The downfall of his great friend and supporter,
Napoleon III., and the ill-fortune of France in her war with
Germany, left him to the crafty policy of England. The
money-lenders of France, whose original enormous loans to
Egypt had to be buoyed up to prevent a total collapse, saw
bankruptcy staring them in the face, and prudently called

upon England, whose people were equally interested in the
bonds, to help them out of the difficulty. Waddington,
having succeeded in his schemes for temporary security,
was no doubt pleased to let England take the lion's share
of influence and spoils without protest. Poor Egypt was
the victim of wanton cupidity, and the Khedive was forced
to a compromise, which included his own abdication. Bismarck's
“kick at the dead lion” in this affair is, perhaps,
one of the most extraordinary diplomatic freaks of the farseeing
Chancellor.

The results but too plainly justify the wonderful prevision
of the “grim old soldier,” Mehemet Ali, when pointing
out to his successors their true policy. It would have been
well had they been guided by him in this and in other vital
matters, or at least have exacted some guarantee of the
great powers for their security. That the work was inevitable
there is no doubt. Ismail understood this, and, thinking
that he had gone far enough in engrafting modern ideas
on his policy to insure him against outrage, entered heartily
into the scheme for the completion of the canal. Subsequent
events handed him over, bound hand and foot, to
the designing Western powers. The policy denounced by
Mehemet Ali led to his ruin. It may suit the bondholders
to say that Ismail clung to the principles of the founder of
his dynasty, which worked well so long as there was a stern
despot to apply them; that subsequently all had changed,
and that Ismail had neither the ability nor the strength of
character to carry out a policy suited to the requirements
of the times. The fact is, that Egypt ran the risk that is
always incurred by a weak power over whose inheritance
two stronger powers are ready to come to blows. Ismail
attempted the impossible task of modernizing everything
in Egypt in thirteen years. In this endeavor the state revenues
and his own private fortune became involved beyond
hope. The Rothschilds now enjoy millions, the wreck of
his estates, and Englishmen boast of the splendid investment

Disraeli made in buying the Suez Canal bonds for
which Egypt had given her security.

Ismail may well regret that his good sense was blinded
by his ambition, and that he too, like Saïd Pacha, listened
to the fatal eloquence of De Lesseps. The latter was only
too willing, as President of the 1878 Commission, to turn
upon his victim after fattening on the spoils wrung from
Ismail's credulity. Situated as Egypt is, in the north-east
angle of Africa, which may be said to divide Europe and
Asia like a wedge, nothing can happen in either without
being felt in Egypt. Though ever prominent as the highway
to the East, this great route has become more so now that
the whole of Europe's commerce with the Indies is carried
on through the canal. The Arab prefers despotism at the
hands of one of his own faith to a liberal government at the
hands of the foreigner. Ismail understood this hatred of
European interference, and invited Americans to assist him
in organizing his army. Politically they represented nothing,
and were acceptable to his people. He also appointed
Arabs to high official position, and desired that the people
should be heard through the Notables. This was a novelty.
They had never before questioned their rulers, and nobody
was anxious to “bell the cat.” Before voting, they inquired
which way the government leaned, and then they all went
in a body that way. Their recent outbreak did not arise
from a wish to repudiate their enormous debt. They were
willing that their laborious people and rich lands should
pay it. But young and progressive Egypt had been elevated
in the last decade and made to feel that, however just
and honest their present Khedive might be, still his government
under the new arrangements made with the bondholders
was entirely in the hands of those appointed to suit
the interests of their European creditors. The instincts
which Ismail had stimulated by his policy of respect for his
people were offended by the submission of Tewfik to European
dictation.

Ismail Pacha was Khedive of Egypt during my service.
He was the first to hold that dignity. The sum which purchased
this rank and title from the Sultan was very large.
He is past the meridian of life, under medium height,
but compactly built. He has dark brown hair and mustache,
a swarthy skin and keen black eyes, whose penetrating
glances shoot from under half-closed lids. Habitual
ease of manner and slowness of speech give him the air of
great self-possession. He impresses every one as a man of
strong convictions and extensive observation.

The following reflections on Ismail in his political and
social relations were written when he was one of the most
notable men of his day, and the writer was fresh from contact
with him in the relations of a general of high rank to
his commander-in-chief:

When in repose and his eye is partly shut, no man has a
more sphinx-like expression; but the strongly-marked face
conceals behind it constant thought and indicates that the
cares of state weigh heavily upon him. In his hours of
ease his conversation is very agreeable. Speaking French
slowly and deliberately, with a finely modulated voice and
a countenance lit up with the characteristic smile of his
family, he gives one the impression that he would make a
good boon companion. Though in detailing the events of
his reign I shall have to speak of an occurrence which will
lead many to think him cruel, yet, having in my long
acquaintance witnessed so much that was humane in his
character and life, my opinion is that he was far from being
an unamiable man or sovereign. His large family and the
great numbers of people who have served under him bear
willing testimony to his kindly heart. After his accession,
when all the terrible punishments and confiscations of his
predecessors had ceased, numerous instances of arbitrary
and unjust outrage of which I was informed came to his
knowledge, and his interference was immediate. The use
of the kourbash without the authority of law was severely

punished. He made earnest endeavors to abolish slavery
in his dominions, and notwithstanding statements to the
contrary, he was anxious to do this in the harems themselves,
where every woman is a slave. One of his means to
that end was the education of women. If there was nothing
else to be placed to his credit, he has erected for himself,
in the education of women and in the abolition of
slavery, a monument which will endure after all the errors
of his administration have faded out of history.

The forcing of a parliament upon an unwilling people
who lived in a dreamy philosophy and preferred the iron
hand of one man, is another evidence of the enlightened
humanity of Ismail. He was one of those who believed
that no real advance can be made in the Arab race until
the outcrop of Islam's wrongs is corrected, none of them
being greater than the violation of nature in depriving
woman of her legitimate sphere of action and influence.

In its interior economy the harem of the Khedive and
his numerous family, and the harems of those among the
higher dignitaries whose association they claim, have in
their approximation to Western custom undergone vast
changes. The substitution of European dress for the Oriental
may not be a gain in picturesqueness, but it is a long
stride in the direction of adopting modern customs. The
sitting on chairs and on the divan, which their new costume
compels, is a great innovation upon the time-honored
squat, though it is said, when the change took place, the
ladies found it difficult to dispose of their tiny feet, it being
convenient to place one on the chair and leave the other
dangling. When crinoline was in fashion, this graceful
position retained some of the quaint picturesqueness of
their discarded habits.

Ladies of rank now sit at a modern table with knives and
forks and eat like Europeans, instead of dipping the fingers
into their dishes, as was the case a few years ago. Instead
of lying on divans and sleeping on the floor, putting everything

into great leather bags and hiding these in closets, or
stringing their fine dresses on cords hung across their
chambers, modern inventions have been introduced; even
trunks and bureaus are now in common use. The ladies
now ride out in carriages openly and with the thinnest
possible veils. They are accompanied as formerly by their
sable guardians, but the latter are now more for show than
for use. While it is etiquette not to look at these ladies of
the harem, they look at the stranger as though they courted
the furtive glance of admiration. When it is said that a
high princess walked unveiled at the springs near Cairo, we
may easily believe that the Egyptian women are beginning
to feel their freedom. It is not to be understood, however,
that the women have generally favored this change from
Oriental to European customs. Indeed, its most violent
opponents have been found among them, and so far from
envying they have always pitied their Western sisters.

But the elevation of woman by education has given
many Egyptian ladies a proper idea of their dignity, and
customs and superstitions which conflict with it are contemned
by this new generation. Though the class is not
numerous, still their influence is felt, and the close observer
can see that the worst features of Mahometanism are
being seriously shaken. This fact was fully appreciated by
Ismail, and it was his endeavor in the refinement of women
to elevate the family, educate the sons by enlightened
mothers, and prepare Egypt for a better future by a means,
which thus went to the very root of things.

CHAPTER VIII.
CAIRO.

Changes made in the city during the last twenty years—Its present beautiful
and European aspect—Praise due to Ismail Pacha—Sketch of Cairo—
Opera and theatre—Christian schools and missions—Change in the
habits of Mahometan ladies—Visit to the Pyramid of Cheops—The
climb to its top—Theory touching the purpose of its builders—Views of
different archæologists—The Sphinx and the Pyramid of Chephren—The
Pyramids of Sakkara and the tunnel of the Sacred Bulls—Mariette Bey's
wonderful discovery of an unopened tomb—The statue of the high
priest “Ti”—Paintings delineating domestic and every-day scenes of
country life—The ancient city of On or Heliopolis—Tombs of the early
Caliphs—Ceremony of starting on the Mecca pilgrimage—Utter destruction
of Heliopolis.

I ARRIVED at Cairo on my second visit in January, 1870,
after an absence of some years, in that most delightful of
all seasons, unlike the winter of any other climate, when
everything is green and beautiful, the air soft and balmy.
The train was filled with representatives of the two great
travelling nations of the world, America and England.
The plains were golden with rich harvests and dotted with
elegant villas, embowered in roses, the grounds of which
were adorned with luxuriant and well-cultivated lebbek and
acacia trees. On one side, in full view, stood the Mokuttum
hills, the citadel on their slope, with the tall minarets
of the mosque of Mehemet Ali peering far above and overlooking
in their height the 400 mosques in the heart of the
curious old city beneath. It was upon entering the Arab
city that we were pleased to find untouched the narrow and
crooked streets teeming with people, and its little shops,
with their picturesquely dressed crowds of customers, as in

the olden time. But, leaving these familiar scenes, one
is impressed by the stately beauty of the new city immediately
alongside of it with its comfortable hotels and
commodious mansions, its broad avenues tastefully planted
with costly shade trees, and skirted by modern cottages
surrounded by rich parterres of flowers, shrubs, and trees.
These interesting objects are evidences that in a few years
the strong hand of Ismail had called into existence, as if by
magic, a new city. The spectacle of two distinct cities in
one, each filled with a different people, unlike in race, customs,
and religion, is very impressive. Nothing is more
suggestive than the lofty minarets crowned by the crescent,
the emblem of the Mahometan faith, and near by the
steeple of the Christian church surmounted by the cross.
This evidence of toleration inclines one to the belief that
civilization has at last brought these fanatical people under
its powerful influence. The cry of the muezzin calling the
faithful to prayer from the top of the minaret is scarcely
hushed before the merry chime rings out from the church
towers of the Christians. The wonderful changes which
had been wrought in this ancient city since my first visit
suggested the idea of just such work as is credited to
Haroun-el-Raschid in the Arabian Nights. In scanning
these vast improvements the traveller asks, How can they
charge the author of them with extravagance? Was there,
then, nothing to show for the vast sums expended? Why,
the new Cairo teems with splendid answers to this accusation.
If the man of truth and sense will survey Egypt and
mark its advancement spread broadcast to its remotest
boundaries, he will find more solid improvement wrought
with the revenues of the country and with the wealth of
Ismail's own private purse than can be shown for twice
the amount in any other country in the world. Out of a
mud-heap he has created a splendid European city, and
filled it with the advantages and attractions of civilization.
This gigantic work was completed in a few years, while it

took centuries to build many European cities of equal
size.

From the veranda of the New Hotel at Cairo, the coup
d'oeil is entirely changed from what it was a few years ago.
Where the hotel now stands and far beyond it had been an
uncultivated garden. In the place of the ragged old sycamores
which stood some distance in front and which surrounded
a public ground, a receptacle for filth and a haunt
for dogs, with here and there a little drinking-booth for the
low foreigner and dirty Arab, now stands one of the most
enchanting gardens in the East, with a broad avenue between
it and the hotel. This garden is laid out with beautiful
pebble walks, adorned with fountains, and decked with
rare exotics, flowers, and trees. There is a silvery lake in
its centre with graceful swans to add to its interest, boats
for the amusement of the passing stranger, and many other
attractions which render it a diminutive Bois de Boulogne
to the Egyptian capital. In one of the arches stands a
grotto of large proportions with subterraneous passages and
chambers. A little to the right of the garden, separated
from it by a broad avenue, is a handsome opera-house, where
for many years there were employed some of the best artists
and most accomplished orchestras in the world. Ismail,
educated in Paris, had, among other tastes, a fondness
for European opera and early introduced it into his capital.
It was so arranged that the ladies of his harem and those of
the wealthy pachas might sit in their boxes, hidden by lace
curtains, and enjoy the opera unseen. Beyond this there
was a circus for the rougher sex and a theatre for the foreigner.
It is said that the Khedive was no little chagrined
that the fair ladies of Egypt, educated to the slow, monotonous
Asiatic music, could not appreciate the strains of
Rossini, Verdi, and Gounod. This accounted for the
numerous carriages winding their way to the circus, where
the ladies could better appreciate I'opéra de I'hippodrome.

This did not, however, apply to the young daughters of

Children of Ismail, late Khedive of Egypt.

the Khedive and those of many of the high functionaries,
for under the auspices of Ismail and one of his queens, a
bevy of beautiful and accomplished young houris had come
upon the scene of harem society during the last twenty
years who had been taught the requirements of scientific
music. While the more matured princesses were caged behind
lace, his sweet and pretty daughter of thirteen, Zaneeb,
for several years took her seat in a box with her young
brother unveiled, and enjoyed her cultivated taste for music
with as much zest as any other young girl. It was afterward
when another year was added to her young life that,
much against her will, the traditional veil was forced upon
her, and she, too, sat at the opera behind lace curtains, and
with others of her sex was compelled to undergo the seclusion
of the harem. This was the beautiful young woman
whose melancholy death and funeral at the palace by the
sea I have already adverted to.

On the other side of the Esbikeeyah Garden there is a
large, well-arranged, and extensive structure, erected by the
American Presbyterian Mission, which has within its walls
a handsome church and an extensive school-house for girls
and boys, and I cannot do better than advert to the work
that has been done under the administration of Dr.
Lansing, one of the ablest and most philanthropic foreign
residents of Egypt, who is the patron of this institution.
There has grown up not only this fine institution, but more
than twenty others under his auspices in the villages, towns,
and cities. Always amiable in social life, the doctor has
labored under many difficulties in this field, assisted by a
number of devoted and good men and women. The
Mahometans and the Copt Christians in large numbers
go to his schools, but the instances are rare where a child
of the Prophet is ever converted.

Great numbers of the Copts are, however, brought within
their fold. There was scarcely a clerk in any department,
civil or military, in Egypt during the last twenty-five years

who was not educated in these schools, and I have often
been impressed with the great service the rich who give to
missionaries in other lands might effect in this Mahometan
and Copt country by liberally supporting the doctor.
I feel assured that if they once visited his church in Cairo
on Sunday morning and heard him discourse in the Arab
language to his large audience of turbaned Orientals, their
hearts would expand and the doctor would be saluted with
“Well done, thou good and faithful servant.” I will not
further dilate upon the massive structures with their arcades
nor the broad streets which with their shady trees add so
much beauty and comfort to the city. One acquainted with
it can tell where miserable habitations have given way to
the abode of civilized man, and wretchedness has been replaced
by the palatial residences and business houses of
wealthy Arabs and Levantines. Escaping the eternal sun as
he walks under arcades and the shady trees which line the
broad streets, he is interested with the noisy throngs of active
and intelligent people in pursuit of their various callings.

The traditional ass and riding camel are now reserved for
the stranger, and the American and Englishman hear the
cry of the donkey-boy when he salutes them: “Here is
Yankee Doodle” or “John Bull,” as his shrewd perception
of nationality bids him call his beast. The dainty wife and
daughter of Bey and Pacha, instead of wrapping themselves
up like packages and straddling an ass, are now seen in
their lace caps, tulle veils, and ample dresses of lavender
or saffron silk, in their handsome European carriages, followed
by their dark guardians on horseback in rich trappings.
To add a touch of romance to the scene, they do
not hesitate, when unobserved by their sable nondescripts,
to coquette with the handsome foreigners as they pass
beneath the old sycamores in the favorite drive on Friday
to the Shubra Palace. Like their Western sisters, they like
to have their beautiful dresses and jewels admired, when
only a few years since it was etiquette for all males to turn

their backs on their approach. Neglecting the duty of
concealing their faces, they are certain to be reminded of it
by the thing of authority who was in close attendance. I
well remember, on my first visit, the picturesque groups of
turbaned Turks, Arabs, and Copts in their rich and particolored
dresses mounted on camels and asses, and in the
distance, riding richly caparisoned donkeys, but wandering
like ghosts through the dark streets, were to be seen the
wives and daughters of these dignified Orientals muffled in
their habarahs as though they feared observation. Their
blue eyes looked out from under their covering in timid and
startled amazement at a new manner of man as if they had
never before seen a European. They have changed all
that, and the traditional ass with his rich trappings for the
élite is scarcely more than a reminiscence now.

It was my first experience among these transformed
Eastern people, and the impression was vivid. Returning
to see European dress and vehicles in common use, it
seemed at first as though Oriental Cairo touched by the
hand of Ismail had lost some of its time-honored splendor.
In truth, Cairo showed in former days the glittering ostentation
of the favored few, which sadly contrasted with the
most squalid and repulsive poverty of the many. There
was that sort of wretchedness which made Egypt a pest-house,
but the improvement of the people and the forced
observance of sanitary precautions in the fourteen years of
the reign of Ismail had effaced many sad and sorrowful
pictures. In all that time Egypt had never been visited by
an epidemic; formerly the curse was periodical. No man
of feeling who knew the past failed to be gladdened by the
change; every such man kindly extended his sympathy to
that ruler who had fearlessly wiped out old customs and
landmarks in the interest of humanity; whose reign commenced
with heaps of mud houses, and closed with so many
finely constructed buildings and other material improvements;
who transformed Egypt into a civilized country,

where the stranger was welcomed, and through which he
could journey with as much comfort and safety as in any
other part of the world.

One of the pleasures of a visit to Cairo was in seeing the
vast monumental ruins in its immediate vicinity. Among
the many gentlemen whom it gave me pleasure to meet
were Governor Hoffman of New York and General Ingalls,
U. S. A.; being old acquaintances, I accompanied them to
the ruins around the city. Our first venture was across the
beautiful iron bridge recently constructed over the Nile,
which replaced the unsafe pontoon formerly used. We
entered upon a vast plain, now being improved at great
expense as an extensive park with plants and fountains, as a
breathing-place for health and amusement, so necessary
to the dense population of Cairo. It was here that Ismail
also proposed to construct a museum, in which, under the
wise administration of Mariette Bey, it was designed to
place the fine collection of Egyptian antiquities now in the
Boulac Museum at Cairo, where it would no doubt in time
exceed in richness and interest any other in the world.
Driving over the avenue leading to the Grand Pyramid of
Geezah, shaded by the lebbek-tree planted for the comfort
of the traveller, we passed on the one side between the
magnificent palace of Geezah, of recent construction, with its
miles of cultivated gardens, and on the other side those of
the Khedive's sons, two airy-looking structures surrounded
with verdure and rare flowers. Leaving this pretty picture
in the rear, we again emerged upon the open avenue with
its broad fields of waving grain, and in the distance directly
in front was the famous Pyramid of Cheops, and beyond it
the gracefully lined Libyan hills. When we arrived at our
destination the two visitors, with the aid of the Arabs,
painfully made the laborious ascent, and were rewarded by
one of the grandest and most interesting views in the
world. It is impossible to describe one s emotions while
standing on the top of this great Pyramid, 500 feet high,

and isolated in the midst of the Desert of Sahara, much of
the view over the sea of sand bounded by the horizon.
Then to the east beyond the Nile, the city of Cairo, with its
400 minarets glittering in the eternal sun, is nestled in
great beauty at the base of the Mokattum hills, on the
inner slope of which stands the Citadel, in its centre the
grand alabaster mosque towering above it and overlooking
the city. Nearer is the Nile, like a silver ribbon coursing
through the fertile fields, dotted with the palm, acacia, and
lebbek trees. The sun's rays shining through the dust
over the city makes it look like a canopy of powdered gold
floating in the air. The panorama which unveils itself
around the spectator is wonderfully varied and picturesque,
and though the ascent may be difficult, it repays the toiler
for the labor expended in climbing. This great Pyramid was
originally 500 feet high, and its base covered 13 acres. Its
material amounts to 89,000,000 cubic feet, or 6,848,000 tons
of stone, and to complete the construction it took 100,000
laborers 30 years. I entered on one occasion the highly
polished tube, 320 feet in length, leading through its centre
from the opening in the north to its base. Thence I painfully
mounted through the forced passage, over the sunken
well, and found myself at last in the handsomely finished
apartments called the Queen's and King's chambers. In
the latter is the famous granite coffer, placed on the western
side of the room. Great air-shafts pierce the massive
walls—one pointing to the north, the other to the south.
Standing in the centre of this huge pile of stone, one
understands why it is that the learned in all ages have
variously speculated upon the origin and purpose of this
seventh wonder of the world, and have advanced conflicting
theories in explanation of its existence.

The coffer in the King's Chamber is made to play a prominent
part in all these speculations. Having had a personal
acquaintance with many of the great Egyptologists, I
propose to give some of their opinions. Herodotus having

said that Cheops built this Pyramid, and that he was buried
beneath it, though the coffer was found in its centre and
after diligent search no other object that looked like a
sarcophagus has been discovered, many have settled
into the opinion that in this coffer the mummy of Cheops
was placed, and as the chamber in which it is a fixture
looked like a tomb, it was the best evidence to prove their
theory, and they named it the King's Chamber. The
coffer, too, was on the side of the setting sun, in the direction
of Amenti, the region whither the ancients thought
the soul went after death, and it was after this manner that
they buried their dead. This opinion is supported by the
fact that much older pyramids were used as tombs, and
there are many other facts besides to sustain this theory.
Other learned men have argued that this coffer has given
standards of measures and weights, and that the metric
system originated in its measurements; while others have
written that the Pyramid was intended for astronomical
purposes, and that the proper place for the sarcophagus was
in a subterranean vault beneath the pile, and not in the
room called the King's Chamber, it being the custom to
place mummies in the lower vault. One of the strongest
writers of the present day has published an elaborate work
in which he attempts, with much scientific acuteness, to
prove that the construction of the Pyramid was a divine
inspiration. Mariette Bey, whom I knew for many years,
and for whose sincerity, experience, and vast knowledge I
entertain the most profound respect, thinks that Cheops
built the Pyramid for his tomb at a time anterior to the
earliest dawn of history in any other quarter of the world—
namely, in the epoch of the fourth dynasty of Egyptian
kings, which Mariette dates back 4335 years before the
Christian era.

Another great Egyptologist, Brugsch Bey, the learned
German professor, agrees with Mariette Bey that the great
Pyramids are tombs, but places their date at 4455 B.C.

Bunsen, the celebrated German traveller, goes still farther
back, and yet another noted man, the English historian
Rawlinson, is uncertain on the subject, and is waiting
further developments before venturing any opinion as to
the date. In mentioning the remarkable men who have
expressed their opinions upon this interesting subject, it is
well to speak of the Arab authors, who go back nearly 1200
years in their knowledge of these structures. As usual,
they are very positive, and state that the antediluvian
astrologers who prophesied of the coming of the deluge induced
the building of the Pyramid to preserve the learning
of the past. The name of the star Sirius, which was venerated
by the early Egyptians because it appeared just
before the inundation of the Nile and was sometimes called
Sothis, gave rise to the name Seth; and the Arabs, seizing
upon this name, have dignified it as that of the great constructor
of the Pyramid of Cheops. I offer the views of
one more distinguished man, than whom there is no Egyptologist
more entitled to consideration for sincerity and
knowledge. Hakekeyan Bey, an Armenian, who resided in
Egypt from early infancy, was sent to Oxford by Mehemet
Ali, and returned profoundly versed in the science and literature
of Europe. Besides holding for many years some of
the highest positions in the government, he devoted a long
life to the study of Egypt's ruins, and his opinions were
much respected by the learned. It was my happiness to
form his acquaintance on my first visit to Egypt, and to
retain his friendship through the many years of my late
residence there. He was fond of Englishmen and Americans,
and they were ever welcome to his hospitable home.
This ripe scholar, now gathered in his old age to his fathers,
I remember with great veneration, and I recall with pleasure
his goodness and kindly nature. In a memorandum
which he gave me he expresses the opinion that the coffer
which stands on the west side of the King's Chamber in the
Pyramid of Cheops was deposited there by the primitive

Aryans as a record of their standard measure. He believed
that these Pyramids were erected for great national purposes;
that their wonderful plan and construction could
only have been founded upon the concentrated wisdom of
ages, and that only a whole people would undertake the
building of such a gigantic pile of stone as the Pyramid of
Cheops for some purpose of great public utility. He was
impressed with the conviction that this Pyramid was an
embodied record of science, particularly of astronomy and
of standards of measurement so necessary to men at that
early period, especially in a purely agricultural country, the
landmarks of which were yearly wiped out by inundations.
He held that there is no reason for adopting the theory of
successive layers built by succeeding kings so as to increase
the burying capacity of the structure. He truthfully said:
“It is well known that a tyrant scarcely ever completes a
work left unfinished by his predecessor.”

However interesting these theories of learned enthusiasts
may be, there is no question that the Pyramid of Cheops is
“a miracle in stone,” whose builders must have had considerable
knowledge of geometrical proportion and of
abstruse science. There is no reason, in the great size and
necessary cost of the Pyramids in money and toil, for thinking
that they were built simply for the vainglory of the
ancient Pharaohs. While they must have added brilliancy
to the reigns of these monarchs, they were not only of
immediate and practical importance, but they embodied for
future ages symbols expressive of the most enlightened
conceptions of human knowledge; they were great books,
containing within their massive folds the concentrated wisdom
of ages, founded upon the eternal principles of truth.
The question naturally occurs, Can it be possible that the
480,000,000 of people whose mummies are encased in the
rocks of the Libyan hills that border the banks of the Nile,
and who possessed a scientific culture equal in some respects
to that of our own boasted era, carried through such

The Great Sphinx —Gizeh.

mighty works simply to provide a place of sepulture? This
it is difficult to believe. It is equally clear, however, that
kings made use of the Pyramids for tombs as well as for
astronomical purposes. Mariette Bey, who was for so many
years in charge of the excavations of the ruins of Egypt, gives
it as his opinion that there is more valuable information
concerning ancient Egypt buried beneath the sands of
the desert bordering the Nile than has yet been revealed.
It is more than possible that by unearthing it much of the
great mystery surrounding that people, its Pyramids, and
its other great ruins, may yet be more clearly solved.

Leaving the Pyramid, we next visited the Sphinx, carved
out of the solid rock. This is a recumbent lion with the
head of a man. The face is broken, but enough is left to
betray the inscrutable gaze and the stolid, changeless smile
with which its human face greets the rising sun. For a
long time it was supposed to date from a period posterior
to that of the Pyramids, but it is now thought, from its
close connection with a lately discovered temple belonging
to the ancient empire, that it was a sacred symbol.

The Arabs are superstitious in regard to this mysterious
and gigantic rock, and believe that among its other supernatural
powers it holds in check the encroaching desert
sands. The name given the Sphinx by the ancients was
“Hermachis” (Watcher), and it was considered as the
guardian of the celebrated Necropolis which was located
around it. It was made famous by the great Thothmes III.,
who showed special veneration for the Sphinx, and chose it
as his tutelary god. We descended into the neighboring
excavated temple of alabaster, and picked our way among
the rows of granite columns. Its architecture is simple
and grand, of exquisite finish, and without writing upon
any part of it. An American civil engineer, erudite and
scientific, Mr. Walter W. Evans, of New Rochelle, told me
that he had never seen stone more beautifully polished, or
known such gigantic blocks of stone to be fitted with such

nicety—so close, to use his own words, “as almost to defy
discovery.” He added that “handling, polishing, and
perfecting their surface at the present time, as is done here
upon these hard rocks, would require powerful modern
machinery.” This temple is no doubt many thousands of
years older than any other place of worship in the world,
and is therefore an object of great interest. It was in one
of its chambers, in a well thirty feet deep, that the magnificent
statue of Chephren, or Shafed, the builder of the
second Pyramid, was discovered. The statue is now in the
Boulac Museum. It is of breccia, and Mariette Bey says
that it has come down not less than sixty centuries, and is
not only remarkable for its high antiquity, but is marked
by a finish of detail, a fulness, and a majesty which render
it one of the most valuable relics of antiquity that have
ever been discovered. It throws an unexpected light upon
the earliest Egyptian art, and shows us that Egyptian
artists 6000 years ago had attained a perfection closely approaching
that of later ages.

Our next visit was to Badresham, a village twelve miles
by rail up the Nile, whence we had donkeys. On the side
of the Libyan hills we soon found ourselves in the famous
tunnel of the Sacred Bulls. Lighting our candles, we penetrated
its thick darkness, and at every step realized the
amazement which Mariette Bey has so graphically described
as incident to his visit on discovering the tomb.

Though I had been in this tunnel of the Sacred Bulls
before this visit, its wonders always impressed me with
renewed interest. Huge blocks of granite, nearly twelve
feet square, were brought from their quarry at Syene, 650
miles down the Nile, hollowed, polished, and shaped like a
beautiful urn, and placed in a tunnel dug into a mountain
nearly a quarter of a mile, which, like the niches fitted for
them on its sides, was scarcely large enough to admit them.
When it is considered that all this enormous work was,
according to our mind, simply to preserve a miserable mummied

Bust of Chephren or Shafra, Builder of the Second Geezeh Pyramid.

bull, their god Apis, it seems indeed a mystery. The
only solution, so far, appears to be that the ox was useful
to the Egyptian in the cultivation of the soil, and for that
reason they worshipped him as they did the dog and the cat
because they destroyed the rat and other smaller animals
that devoured their grain. Mariette Bey told me that one
of the chief delights experienced in a long course of archæological
research was in discovering these tombs, which
had been hidden for so many ages, though the bulls, with
all their precious relics, had been removed, probably by
Cambyses the Persian, who had shown such contempt for
the god by running his sword through the then living Apis.
Mariette Bey, however, subsequently, while examining the
walls of the tunnel, discovered a small stone with the impress
of a man's hand in mortar upon it, and another tomb
was disclosed which had never been opened. The mummy
was intact, covered with all the rich cerements, encased in
a beautifully polished urn, with its history in hieroglyphics
inscribed upon it. The inscription showed that this tomb
had been placed there by Rameses II., the Pharaoh whom
the Bible speaks of as not knowing Joseph, the persecutor
of the Jews, and no doubt the father of the king from whom
Moses fled to Mount Sinai. The fact was fully explained
from this connection that Aaron understood the worship of
the bull when he permitted his people to make the golden
calf. I asked Mariette upon one occasion if it was true
that when he entered this tomb, which had been sealed up
untouched for 3700 years, that he saw the tracks of the
naked feet of the ancient Egyptians, as had been stated,
printed in the dust on their leaving the tomb. His reply
was that it was his custom to look as soon as possible into
all places of his unearthing, in order to discover what objects
were there, as some instantly crumbled, and that his attention
was at once attracted by the footprints in the undisturbed
dust and débris.

In the museum of Boulac there is a finely preserved

statue of a priest, an exalted official “enthroned in the
heart of his Lord,” by the name of Ti, of the fifth
dynasty, who held many of the highest offices, civil and
sacerdotal. Though of humble origin, he became great,
and married “the palm of amiability,” a daughter of the
royal family of Egypt. His statue is delicately finished
and apparently perfectly true to nature. A wig covering his
head and a cloth around his loins constitute the simple
dress which adorns it. The statue is of large size, and if
uniformed in continentals would make a good representation
of Washington. Not far from the tombs of the Bulls
we entered the mastaba (chapel) of this official, not long
uncovered by the Bey from the sands of the desert. The
largest chamber looks as fresh as though just finished.
Ti is seen pictured as a wealthy farmer, beautifully sculptured
in bas-relief upon its walls, with his wife and children
walking leisurely in his yard, with poultry and other
domestic animals around, while the servants are feeding
geese and cranes after our modern mode of stuffing. There
are seen also sailing boats on the Nile, with men constructing
others. Judges sitting in judgment, and prisoners being
brought to trial; great numbers of women with baskets on
their heads; offerings of sacrificial food and drink from the
villagers; ploughing, reaping, and the driving of sheep;
taking an account of and branding cattle; fishing and hunting
with a stick and cat, and a park filled with wild animals
and fishing-ponds, are portrayed. Without a knowledge of
hieroglyphics, through this picture one can read the everyday
life of this man, his interior domestic economy, his
profession, riches, and offices. Notwithstanding the conventional
type of the art, everything is strikingly full of
action, and the great similarity of much of the life depicted
to that of the present day impresses one with the idea that
the present is but a familiar panorama of the civilization of
nearly six thousand years ago. The historian can learn
more from this single tomb of that ancient people than he

Obelisk of Usurtasen I., at Heliopolis.

can from volumes written on the subject. Though the
Egyptians wrote upon papyrus for eternal preservation, yet
they were so anxious to transmit their history that they
made it enduring in stone.

Our next visit was to Heliopolis, or the old city of On,
seven miles below Cairo, on the same side of the river. The
first object on the way to interest the traveller is the
“seebel” (fountain), which the mother of the Khedive
charitably erected for the poor and the thirsty Bedouin
who wanders in from the desert with his thorny aromatic
plants, or now and then to sell an Arabian horse or a
camel. As he slakes his thirst he never fails to ask Allah
to reward the beneficent donor for this thoughtful munificence.
In the East, where water is always scarce, there is
no kindness that equals the establishment of a fountain,
and the true believers are happy in the thought that in this
good work they are assured of the prayers of the Faithful
in securing for them seats in Mahomet's Paradise. For
this reason no charity is so universal. Turning to the east,
we follow the old Saracenic walk ending in the curious
bastions on the desert constructed by Saladin (Saleh-el-Deen),
the famous warrior who defended Cairo against the
assault of the Christian invader. Near these fortifications
is the tomb of Amalek-Adatté, the mother of Saladin.
With the chivalric gallantry of a great soldier, he showed,
in the erection of this beautiful memento to the one who
gave him being, a filial gratitude which does him greater
honor than the laurels of grim-visaged war, which so splendidly
encircle his name. The dome which surmounts the
tomb with its lace-like covering is the chaste pencilling of
the highest Saracenic art of that period. Admiring its
beauty, the spectator is amazed that this relic, so interesting
in history and historically connected with a brilliant
epoch, should be allowed by the Arabs to crumble into
ruin. But the Mahometan has forgotten the past and is
occupied with the present. He never sheds a tear or

speaks a prayer over the mother of his renowned leader.
The Moslem never repairs even the most sacred mosques,
unless they are so situated that he can make use of his faith
in turning an honest piastre with the least possible trouble
to himself. To the right are the so-called tombs of the
Caliphs, properly Mamelukes' tombs. Their numerous
domes are still standing, but, like the mosques and tombs
beneath, they are crumbling. Their remains, surrounded
by the desert, are very beautiful in precious stone and
marble, carved in rich Saracenic devices. I know of but
one tomb of a Caliph standing. It is just within the city,
a rare old structure, and is the tomb of Saleh-el-Eiyoub,
the conqueror of St. Louis, the Crusader, in his foolish
attempt upon Cairo. The location probably accounts for
its preservation. The others were all destroyed to make
way for the present city.

There are beautiful domes over the ashes of remarkable
Caliphs and Sultans, who are forgotten by the Mahometans.
Sometimes the intelligent foreigner hunts up the
name of the distinguished individual, or they would all pass
into oblivion. I have never met an Arab who could tell
where Saladin was buried. When I visited Damascus,
twenty years ago, there was no one there who knew.
Finally a Greek dragoman informed me that he had got the
account of the place from an Englishman. This ignorance
may not seem altogether singular when I state that at
Westminster Abbey, forgetting for the moment that Alexander
Pope was a Catholic, I asked a highly intelligent
usher, who was wandering with me, pointing out the illustrious
dead in that celebrated repository, where the grave
of the great Pope was. Looking at me with a dazed
expression, he acknowledged that he did not know, and I
then remembered that the poet was buried at Twickenham.

To our left, opposite these tombs, I have seen thousands
of pilgrims from Africa take their leave for the desert
on their visit to the tomb of the Prophet. Near the

Citadel the Khedive, with all the dignitaries and military
of Egypt, en grande tenue, places in the keeping of the
military sheik, who is naked and mounted on a dromedary,
with his bushy head uncovered, the beautifully gold-embroidered
carpet (mahmal) to be placed upon the tomb
of the Prophet. The custom is said to have had its origin
from a Caliph providing a handsome carpet upon which his
favorite sat during her trip to the Holy City; in the excitement
of religious frenzy she threw the carpet over the tomb,
and the Faithful have ever since celebrated the event.
Headed by the naked sheik, a grand procession passes
through Cairo amid salutes of artillery, and at this spot
joins the cavalcade, when the mob in fanatical excitement
commences its wanderings.

A few years since much of the fertile land cultivated on
each side of us was a desert, but the planting of the lebbek
tree in broad rows, and between them the cactus, soon
forms, with the help of constant irrigation, a soil. In this
way broad acres are reclaimed by a rapid fertilization.
Passing the shapeless mass of buildings used for military
schools and barracks, the drive is through shady avenues
lined with exotics and orange-trees, and turning around the
palace of Prince Tewfik, now Khedive, we again visit the
Virgin's tree at Amateriah. Everybody goes there because
of the tradition that the Holy Family was sheltered under
the tree during the celebrated flight into Egypt, and no
one fails to drink from the spring which, when tasted by
the Virgin, turned at once from salt to the sweetest water.
A few minutes more and we stood under the famous obelisk
at Heliopolis, the City of the Sun. This name, derived
from the Greeks, designates the city of On of the Bible.
Jeremiah calls it Bethshemeth, “The House of the Sun.”
The obelisk was erected by Osetarsin of the twelfth
dynasty, 3061 B.C., according to Mariette Bey. Among
the inscriptions on it is that Osetarsin was “the friend of
the spirits of On, the ever-living golden Horus,” and

placed in front of the temple of the sun are the Jachin and
Boaz of the Egyptian sanctuary, I Kings 7:21.

A visit to the Boulac Museum, near Cairo, is one of the
great events to the stranger soon after his arrival. Residing
many years near this wonderful collection of antiquities,
my visits were frequent, and each object became familiar to
me. The ablest Egyptologists have written of its contents,
but without their aid it is easy to learn much of the history
of that ancient people simply from the inscriptions found
here. Here also is much of their mysterious literature, recorded
in papyrus and folded away among these dusty remains.
These records upon stone and papyrus go back to
the first Egyptian monarchy—to that prodigious distance of
time, according to noted Egyptologists, 5004 years before
the Christian era. They believe there is evidence of thirty-four
dynasties; in presenting which it is always with the
qualification that their investigations of the truth of their
existence should be taken with many doubts, as they necessarily
pass through the clouds of a misty past which in
some sort belongs to the infancy of the human race.

One of the most celebrated monuments in assisting investigations
is in this museum—a tablet found at Saccarah,
in the tomb of a priest named Tounar-i. This tablet is
valuable, as it corroborates the book of Manétho, the pagan
priest, the book itself being lost. A mosaic of the fragments
make out the thirty-four dynasties. The Egyptians believed,
“when the dead merited eternal life they were
admitted, in the other world, into the society of kings.”
This priest is represented on this stone as entering the
presence of fifty-eight kings. It not only assists in fixing
the date of their earliest monarchy, but it is one of the evidences
of their belief in the immortality of the soul. The
meeting of the ghosts by the Egyptian is singularly in
accordance with the passage in Isaiah, already quoted, of
the defunct king who had penetrated into the august
assembly of the departed, who exclaimed to him as he

Priests Preparing Mummy for Burial.

Resurrection of the Body.

entered, “Is this the man that made the earth to tremble?”
Before unearthing the Egyptian belief in the immortality
of the soul, this passage in the Bible had strengthened the
Christian in his belief. The Egyptian believed in body,
soul, and spirit; at death, the soul, after many trials, came
to judgment. Passing through the Osirian ordeal, it returns
to its body in the form of a dove with the face of a man,
and is seen hovering over the corpse with outstretched
wings, the cross of life, or Tat, in one hand, and the Sail,
or vital spark, in the other. An interesting instance is on
the tombstone of Menai, a prophet of Osiris. While it
is over his body, he is made to say, “My soul goes to unite
itself to my body.” There are frequent prayers upon other
tombs to save their bodies from destruction, not to leave
their corpses to dissolve.

This belief in the resurrection is made still more impressive
by picturing the goddess Neith, the divine mother,
overhanging the firmament. Beneath her is the body of a
red man (the natural body) falling to the earth; another
figure of a blue color (the spiritual) is stretching forth his
arms as though rising to the firmament. It is thought that
this has direct reference to the resurrection of the dead and
the immortality of the soul, and that their belief was similar
to that of Plato, and particularly that of St. Paul.

Another interesting incident in the life of Neith, the
divine mother, is in a tomb of one of the Rameses, where
she is beautifully sculptured and painted. Champollion has
elaborately described this sculpture. The ceiling in the
chamber of the sarcophagus is not only rich in ornament,
but extremely mystical. The description of the sun is portrayed
in its procession through the hours of the day and
night, symbolizing the life of the burning orb, the sun, or
Pharaoh. The symbolical paintings are inclosed by the
immense person of Neith, the goddess of the firmament,
extended round the ceiling and sides of the chamber, separating
the day and night. In the east Neith becomes the

100

mother of the sun, who is then an infant and tenderly
placed in a boat, when he descends the celestial river accompanied
by a grand cavalcade of divinities. Each hour
of the day is marked by a globe, and those of the night
by a star. In the seventh hour of the voyage they sound,
and the pilot comes on board the boat and guides them
through the remaining hours of the night. At the twelfth
hour they enter the sea into which the river empties, when
the eastward voyage through the hours of the night commences,
towed up a course of the celestial river, which with
the main stream ends in the western sea.

The life of man was assimilated by the Egyptians to the
march of the sun over our heads, and his death to the setting
of that orb, which disappears at the western horizon
of the heavens, to return on the morrow victorious over
darkness.

There is another stone tablet in this museum, discovered
by Mariette Bey, which is important. He thinks it identifies
the rock temple with the Great Sphinx , and makes them
anterior to Cheops and his Pyramid, as it refers to his
repairing the Sphinx. This temple is thus the oldest in
existence for the worship of God.

The statues of the young Prince Ra-ho-tep and his wife
Neferte are among the oldest relics of the past, some think
the oldest statues that the hand of man ever fashioned.
The wonderful display of art in these perfectly preserved
statues, at a time almost coeval with the earliest evidence
of the existence of man, is another link in the chain that
goes to show that man in the earliest day was at his best.

In speaking of their painting it is difficult to particularize
where everything they handled, from statue to temple, was
made brilliant by variegated colors. Even their tombs
inside and out were touched by the pencil of the painter.
What pleased my taste, both in beauty of form and in
color, were several Egyptian ducks, painted upon stucco, of
the age and found near the tomb of the Prince Ra-ho-tep.

Head of Nefertari-Aahmes, Queen of King Aahmes, Conqueror of the Hicsos.

101

Other paintings which elicited my wonder were of a
much later date, found in the tomb of Rameses III. at
Thebes. They are of harpers. These paintings are as
fresh and beautifully drawn as when they came from the
artist's pencil. They are of such elegant construction and
the numerous strings are so delicately touched, are so real,
that in imagination one can almost hear the notes vibrate
through the immense tomb cut into the side of the mountain
at Melek-Boulouk. These, too, show the wonderful
knowledge of those ancient people in lasting colors.

Going back again to the wonder of Thebes, I recall some
of their sculptured battle-scenes. The same glowing war
imagery which Homer described in the heroic age of
Greece, the artist in the age of Rameses II., anterior to that
of Achilles, has sculptured upon the walls of the Memnonium.
Here the Pharaoh “lifted up the flame of the
sword and the lightning of the spear,” and hearing “the
rattling of the wheels” and seeing “the prancing horses
and the jumping chariots” carry one back more vividly
to one of the many heroic ages than does even the renowned
poem of the Grecian bard.

Passing the village sheik, the wooden man of 6000 years,
whose eyes, though dimmed by too much handling, are still
wonderfully beautiful, and the visitor is immediately in full
view of the golden face on the mummy-box of Queen
Aa-ho-tep. Mariette Bey has collected over 200 beautiful
articles of her jewelry and virtu of which mention has been
already made; he thinks she was the mother of Aahmes.
Not being able to present her portrait, I have given that
of Nefert-Ari-Aahmes, “the beautiful companion of
Aahmes,” and his queen. She is dark-skinned, and was an
Ethiopian of the highest physical type. Brugsch Bey says
she was worshipped in after ages as an ancestress and
founder of the eighteenth dynasty. Another attractive
statue is a fine likeness of Ameneritis, the queen of Piaukhi,
the Ethiopian king and conqueror of Egypt. It is of alabaster,

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and its head, breast, and shoulders are perfect, with
a very expressive face. Herodotus says that in his day the
Egyptians were a temperate people, before and subsequent
to his being there. There are many evidences of their
being greatly addicted to strong drink; they delighted in
painting and engraving drunken people. Men and women
were convivial, and liked the juice of the grape. They
planted the grape and extracted the juice by presses and
by treading the grape with their feet. Another portrait of
the queen of Aahmes is given to show the every-day costume,
head-dress, wig, and long transparent robe, with a
good deal of the jewelry worn. The Western man is
amused at their primitive instruments of agriculture, but
the modern Egyptians and some of the Spanish race are
not, there being among them some of these very implements—those
that were in use at the time of Joseph.

Their immense number of volumes of papyrus and their
writing on every conceivable thing in stone, show that
they were a literary people. They wrote upon morals,
science, and art, and many novels and works of travel have
been found in their tombs. They excelled in writings
upon agriculture, architecture, and mathematics; but much
of that wisdom they are credited with has not come down
to us; their books upon astronomy and medicine are not
considered so wonderful. In the earliest period, which is
somewhat shadowed, they may have been more intellectual
and with fewer of the superstitions which seem to have
cramped them later.

There were three extraordinary periods in their history
when they flourished in great splendor and their arms were
irresistible. After each of these eras there was a sudden
eclipse, when civilization was thrown back. Were they
conquered by the people they had taught to fight? Or did
they meet an enemy on equal terms, like the Persians, who
blotted them out? The bright epochs in their history are
engraved on their monuments, but upon those followed by

Harp player. From an Egyptian Painting.

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darkness they are utterly silent. In the era after the sixth
dynasty it does not appear, from papyrus, tomb, or temple
for several hundred years, that one human being existed
in the country, and were it not for the obscure mention
of one or two kings by Manétho, the pagan priest,
it would be doubtful whether Egypt existed as a nation.

It was impossible to walk through this museum without
thinking those ancient people were fond of amusement and
dress, and that they were jovial and rollicking, and given
to drinking and feasting. Men and women were fond of
banquets and fine equipages, and liked an easy, luxurious
life.

The king made his people build temples for his use, into
which they had no right to enter. They believed him
divine, and worshipped him. They were a nation of
toadies, from the peasant to the Pharaoh. Though the
most religious people who ever existed, they are said to
have been faithless to their foreign engagements. They
were true to them at home, if for no other reason than that
the forty-two judges would decide against their burial.
This was a great calamity; it interfered with their hope of
eternal life, and made them a better people among themselves.
They were industrious and skilful in working the
most delicate embroidery and jewelry, manufactured glass
and fine linen, and many valuable things in glass and stone
that are very beautiful. The antiquarian is amazed at the
quantity of these things preserved here.

Boxes of paint and cases of cosmetics, fish-hooks, luxurious
chairs and tables, and many objects of art enamelled
and in mosaic, capture and bewilder one with their beauty
and curious workmanship.

I shall close this short sketch by a reference to the monument
known as the Tanis stone. This stone attracts the
attention of the world because, with all the information
contained in the one found at Rosetta, which enabled
Champollion to a great extent to decipher their hidden

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hieroglyphics, this one, being perfect, supplies that which
was defaced and lost in the other. Brugsch Bey and Mariette
Bey have made wonderful use of the Tanis stone in
unravelling the mysterious language. This tablet is a
decree written by the priests in the time of the Ptolemies,
in three languages, Hieroglyphics, Greek, and Demotic, or
the popular dialect. As usual, it commences with fulsome
praise of the god who is their king, and commends him for
having brought back to Egypt the gods that had been
taken away. For peaceful intentions as well as for his victories
in war he has their applause. They then give him
great praise for saving the country from famine, and close
by declaring the Princess Berenice, his virgin daughter who
died young, a divinity, and a decree that her virtues there-after
should be sung by a choir of trained virgins.

Wooden Statue of Sheik-el-Beled.

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CHAPTER IX.
MARRIAGE.

The nuptial ceremonies of Egypt—Remembrance of fairy-like scenes—the
proceedings at a Mahometan marriage—The marriage of Toussoun—
His tastes as an English scholar and admirer of Cooper's novels—
Description of one of the most gorgeous weddings ever seen—Splendor
equalling that of the Arabian Nights.

HAVING been the guest of the Khedive and of wealthy
Pachas at many weddings, I propose to give some description
of the hymeneal ceremony and festivities as practised
in Mahometan countries among the rich. The first case
selected is that of a young officer. The bride was a young
maiden from the palace of the Khedive. The usual course
is that, when a young man arrives at eighteen, or it may be
before, a bride is looked for by a “khatibeh,” a woman
whose regular business it is to search for suitable matches,
as Abraham sent emissaries to look for a wife for Isaac.
The khatibeh finds one of the age of maturity, usually
thirteen, sometimes as young as ten years. Returning, she
represents the bride to be as beautiful as an houri, with the
eyes of a gazelle and teeth of pearl, and always with more
diamonds and riches than she actually possesses. If the
bride is acceptable the woman goes back and represents the
young man as graceful, beautiful in dress, fond of sweet
things, but declares that he cannot enjoy them alone, and
that the chosen bride is the only one who can make them
tasteful; she describes him as domestic in his tastes, and
says that he lives only to adorn and make his loved one
always beautiful; his sole happiness will be in fondling and
caressing her. Both parties give dower, which becomes

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the sole property of the bride, so that in case of divorce it
is bestowed on her. On the day appointed the residence
of the bride is brilliantly illuminated, an entertainment is
prepared for the lady friends up-stairs, and a sumptuous
spread below for the gentlemen.

The bridegroom goes to the mosque to say his prayers
surrounded by his friends in crescent form and preceded by
a band of music, while great numbers of flambeaux light
the way. The prayer over, they return in the same order,
playing some favorite love-songs. Nearing the bridal
house, the ladies are heard welcoming the groom in their
shrill, quavering cry of joy called zaghareet. It is a noise
of universal rejoicing with Eastern women, being “a sharp
utterance of the voice and quick, tremulous motion of the
tongue;” its novelty is not unpleasant to a stranger. Soon
after the groom goes up-stairs to the harem, which simply
means the apartments of the ladies of a Mahometan
family. The ladies are all concealed from his view, but the
bride, beautifully dressed in her Oriental costume, her face
covered with a Cashmere shawl and heavily veiled, is standing
with the khatibeh, their mutual friend, in the farther
end of a brilliantly illuminated salon surrounded with rich
silk divans, in case of wealth, as in this instance. The
groom upon seeing her remains at the threshold, after
exclaiming “Allah!” The bride, giving him time to
admire the tout ensemble, disappears, and so reappears and
retires until she has displayed seven different dresses, each
one more elegant than the preceding. I may mention some
of these dresses, the description of which was furnished
me by a lady. The first consisted of rose silk pantaloons
brocaded in gold, with tunic of similar material, the bosom
of the bride hidden under a mass of pearls and diamonds.
A belt of massive gold surrounded her figure, a white veil
brocaded in gold covered her head and face, leaving the
eyes exposed. The wrists, fingers, and neck were ornamented
with brilliants, and over all was a gossamer veil.

Profile of Ra-hotep.

Face of Nefert.

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The next dress was large pantaloons of delicate green
satin brocaded with the finest gold, discovering underneath
a delicate little rose-colored naked foot imprisoned in violet
velvet slippers embroidered in gold. The last dress was a
green Turkish embroidered garment, massive gold belt
around the waist fastened by a buckle of brilliants, and a
rose-colored silk paletot falling in beautiful folds to the
knees; in the middle of the back and at each seam was an
embroidered wreath of fine gold, while tassels of tresses of
gold were tastefully arranged about the whole. The dress
was so arranged as to disclose the neck and breasts, which,
being white as snow except where nature always tinges
them with rose, were beautifully modelled because always
unencumbered with corsets. If the young aspirant is
pleased—and how could it be otherwise?—with all these
natural and artistic displays, he advances, of course. The
khatibeh receives a present and retires, leaving the pair
alone; the modesty of the bride makes it necessary for her
to retain her veil, but after an effort the groom succeeds in
unveiling her, and for the first time sees her face and form.
He then says, “In the name of God, the compassionate,
the merciful,” and compliments her with the words, “The
night is blessed.” Being pleased, he remains to say a
prayer; otherwise it is proper to refuse the offered beauty,
and to retrace his steps, but rarely or never is the bride
other than agreeable. The bride is seated on the carpet,
and, standing immediately before her, the groom says the
prayer. If he is pleased with her charms, the fact is
announced to the ladies awaiting in suspense, and the
zaghareet (cry of joy) is soon heard. This coming to the
men down-stairs, they too are delighted, and the large
crowd on the street is equally pleased, so that everybody is
happy. The feasting commences, and the awaline, the
finest nightingale, is heard warbling at the lattice above, so
that her sweetest love-song can be heard by the men
below. I have heard on these occasions the most celebrated

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singer they have, who is called the “Jenny Lind”
of Cairo, and really, in the soft and feeling notes of their
peculiar Asiatic melodies, the singing was extremely agreeable
to hear for a time. The Arabs listen to its sweetness
in breathless delight, and it is now and then suddenly interrupted
with one impulse by both men and women, who
give expression to their joy with boisterous mirth, as some
good joke is perpetrated at the expense of either the bride
or groom.

Then follow the Ghawazzee (dancing girls), music, smoking,
and supping of coffee. There is unrestrained enjoyment
on these occasions. The Arabs resemble grown-up
children in their ways, and no people are so easily amused.
They are always pleased when a foreigner enters heartily
into their mirth, and his surprise at some of their doings
particularly delights them.

Presents for the newly-married pair are openly carried
through the streets attended with music, and after three
days, accompanied by a cavalcade of friends, the bride in
a covered carriage goes to the house of the bridegroom.
The guardian at the abode of bliss raises the carpet, upon
which appropriate verses of the Koran are written; she
stoops, says “Allah,” crosses the threshold, and becomes
an houri under the watchful care of a vigilant mother-in-law.

Of course among the fellaheen a simpler process is observed,
yet the story already told is but a type in the
domestic life of all classes.

Seven years ago the Khedive, who was a man of business
and acquainted with the value of riches, determined to
absorb all the immense estates left by Mehemet Ali to his
descendants. Including that which he held already, these
estates amounted to one fifth of the land of Egypt, with
enormous personal wealth added. He had already seized
the property of Halim, his uncle, and Mustapha, his
brother, and exiled them, with a promise to pay for the

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confiscated estates. The Khedive had at this time three
sons and two marriageable daughters, and there were several
young and interesting men and women belonging to
other branches of the family equally attractive who possessed
a large portion of this property. All these young
people, particularly the women, were, for the first time in
the social history of the East, well educated and accomplished.
There was nothing more natural than that these
handsome young people should cement their intimacy by a
bond stronger than mere relationship. I think in sentiment
they so beautifully harmonized that such sordid considerations
as those of foloose (money) never disturbed
them. One of them being the heir-apparent to the throne,
it was necessary that his nuptials should be celebrated on
a scale commensurate with the exalted station and wealth
of the parties. It was then that the world was called upon
to furnish all that taste and beauty required to give the
weddings a brilliancy unheard of, even in the East, and in
some respects the powers of Aladdin's lamp were eclipsed
by the display of both refined and barbaric splendor, to the
end that the common fellah and the prince might enter
with heart and spirit into a true Oriental celebration which
custom had so often sanctioned. The wedding regalia was
something marvellous, and the dinners and suppers exceeded
anything the Khedive had previously given. The
festivities were more democratic than ever before, as everybody
was invited. The richest plate and rarest delicacies,
including even sugar-cured hams, contrary to Mahometan
law, graced the tables, in order that foreigners as well as
natives might be delighted. All that could please the eye
or gratify the appetite was in bountiful profusion. These
dinners and suppers were often graced by the foreign ladies,
who enjoyed both those shared with the gentlemen and
those taken with the ladies of the royal harem. The
Mahometan lady, being forbidden by the Prophet ever
to be seen by any other man than her husband, or some

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man of nearest kin, was never a participant in company
with the men, though the unprofitable pleasure is sometimes
accorded these women of a glance from a hidden
corner of their lattice.

Of all the weddings, that which interested me most was
that of Toussoun Pacha. It was because he spoke and
loved the English language that I knew him better than any
other and took a deeper interest in him. These nuptials
were very splendid, perhaps more so than any of the others
which were then following each other in quick succession.
A governess had taught Toussoun English, and among the
first books he enjoyed were Cooper's novels. He formed a
romantic idea of the Indians, and it was pleasant for him
to meet with those who knew them from personal contact.
An agreeable gentleman, he was with me a great deal, and
I often gratified him with extended accounts of the American
savages. Relating incidents of his life, he mentioned
that, when a boy, dressing as an Indian chief, he caused
great terror among the ladies of his mother's harem. They
thought Iblis (the Dark Spirit) had invaded the sanctity of
their secluded life. While amusing himself in this way, he
fell down a lofty stairway and injured his spine, a mishap
from which he never fully recovered, and it was no doubt
this accident that shortened his days: he died soon after
his marriage with the daughter of the Khedive.

Crossing the Nile and following the broad avenue of the
lebbek and acacia trees for a mile, we arrived at a singular-looking
Arab building without external architecture, but
within luxuriously embellished and the home of refinement
and comfort. After visiting Toussoun I can speak of his
hearty welcome and true Eastern hospitality. The beautiful
Fatima, the second daughter of the Khedive, widow of
the prince, is now the sole occupant of this palatial residence.

On the occasion of her marriage, during the splendid
fêtes, this light of the harem, a blue-eyed fairy, is said to

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have dazzled, by the brilliancy of her attire and her marvellous
grace, the largest assembly of Arab and foreign ladies
ever gathered together in Egypt. Escorted by a bevy of
beauties, she walked over cloth of gold, showered over with
pieces of gold thrown from, concealed hands, on the way
through the beautiful Palace of Abdeen to her reception-room.
One of the features of the festivities was that
Ismail, who had great affection for his daughters, in celebrating
this occasion invited a large party of his particular
friends, foreign and native, to a private opera. The guests
entered an extensive palace adjoining the opera-house at the
Palace of Kazr Nil. Upon their arrival they were introduced
into a handsomely decorated salon. At the close of
this delightful entertainment the party returned to the
reception-rooms to find them transformed, as if by magic,
into one of the most beautifully set supper-rooms I had
ever seen. The delicacies were as agreeably served as the
general effect was beautiful, and to add grace to it and to
show the pleasure experienced in honor of so interesting an
event, the Khedive in person expressed his happiness to
each guest. During my long acquaintance with him, I often
noticed these touching manifestations of true manly feeling
so unusual in Eastern men, and especially in despots, and
they impressed those who knew him best in his private relations
as real exhibitions of a gentle kind-heartedness.

The next scene, after the rich presents were exhibited,
according to custom, was the passage of the bride to her
new home. This is done with great ceremony. The procession
was preceded by men engaged in mock fights and
other amusing demonstrations (formerly it was the custom
of these people to run swords through their arms and carry
them bleeding through the circuitous march, and to perform
many other terrible ceremonies now happily forgotten).

Next came several bands of music followed by a battalion
of troops in ancient steel-clad armor; then several regiments
of horse and infantry. In advance of the bride

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were the mother of the Khedive and his queens in their
variegated stage-coaches, the bride being inclosed in a carriage
covered with Cashmere shawls. This was followed
by an innumerable cavalcade of ladies in their best conveyances.
The carriages were open, and the marvellous display
of lavender, pink, orange, and saffron toilettes, and
the wealth of the women, which is always in brilliants and
rich jewelry, was something magical. The opportunity
offered the women for display is only on such occasions as
the marriage of a princess. The procession moving slowly,
the spectators who lined the way could form a very good
idea of the beauty of those in high life, as the veils were of
the finest transparent tissue, through which it was easy to
see the fair faces and rosy cheeks of the young beauties.
Notwithstanding that their eyes were heightened in brilliancy
by the khohol and their hands and fingers were
stained with henna, though some were beautiful, yet there
were many who could not be called so. They were of all
colors, from snowy white to dark ebony; many had blue
eyes, and not a few had golden hair, now and then shaded
by a deep red. Along the course silver money was thrown
to the expectant Arabs, provisions from camels distributed,
and buffaloes killed for the numerous poor. Thus the
curious procession wended its way through the crowded
streets of Cairo to the home of the fair Fatima.

The closing scene of all these festivities was a grand ball
at the Geezeerah Palace, the residence of the Khedive when
a prince. As many as 5000 guests assisted at this fête,
mostly the foreign population of Egypt, and the numerous
“strangers sojourning in the land,” who were attracted to
witness the marvellous scene of variegated lights and
flowery beauty in which these Eastern people excel; these
lights extended over the iron bridge across the Nile and
through the broad avenues, around the vast garden surrounding
this palace, in which one was lost in the blaze
after entering it. The vestibule and the marble stairway

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with their Parian statues and rare exotics, lured the guest
with delight into the great assemblage of men and women
in the magnificent salons. The flash of light upon the
frescoed ceilings and paintings, the beautiful mantels of
various-colored marble and moresque windows and doors,
made it an agreeable scene for the stranger, and one which
he would keep long in remembrance. Behind the divan of
the Khedive were two large vases of the richest Sèvres, with
admirable likenesses on them of Napoleon and Eugénie.
Traversing the grand salons, now a gay and festive scene,
at the farther end of the palace the attention of the observer
was arrested by the apartments of the French
Empress Eugénie, now dimly lighted, which were so tastefully
fitted up for her on the occasion of the opening of the
Suez Canal. A melancholy recollection now shadowed
them in remembrance of the great sorrow of the unfortunate
Empress. A blaze of fireworks of wondrous beauty
closed these enchanting scenes, whose splendor is rarely
matched in any country. During these celebrations there
was, for the invited guests in the palaces of the Khedive
and his family, and surrounding them for the special pleasure
of the fellaheen, a fairy-like display that requires the
delirium of a poet to picture it in its lavish waste and extravagance.

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CHAPTER X.
THE HAREM.

The inmates of the harem—The tyranny of life and death exercised over
women—What they do and how they live in their prisons—Preservation
of beauty the chief aim of life—The arts of the toilette—Eastern idea of
beauty—Jealousy in the harem—Cruelty of Mahometan husbands.

THE ladies constituting the families of the late Khedive
Ismail Pacha and of his numerous sons are in many respects
an exception to a general rule, in their accomplishments,
education, and manners. While they have, in many respects,
European customs and habits, yet these are modified
by restraints of seclusion; and they share with their
sisters of all classes the odious law of the Prophet, that they
should be held prisoners under a rigid surveillance of guardians
especially prepared for the unholy office.

Statements are made that serious misunderstandings
often occur among them in consequence of this oppression.
There is no doubt that the beautiful young daughter of
the Khedive, who was accustomed until thirteen years of
age to visit the opera without a veil, rebelled when the
time came for incarceration, and that she lamented in tears
her unfortunate fate. Marrying soon after her seclusion,
she lived but a few months. Universally the Moslem
women know nothing of life, being simply pieces of furniture
in their homes. With no education, they are strangers
to the interests and affairs of their masters; decked out
with fine dresses and jewelry, they are sensuously content.
They amuse themselves in crunching melon-seeds, eating
candy, smoking cigarettes, and showing their jewelry and

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fine toilettes to their friends. Living a life of ease and
indolence, they are never supposed to soil their hands with
labor or rack their brains with thought. When they toil,
their sole occupation is to beautify themselves. When
young they are well made; their extremities are fine and
their hands are soft, white, and supple, and they might be
likened to the budding flower which opens at the first rays
of the morning sun. Their complexions are white, and
their cheeks tinged with rose; their eyes are sometimes
blue, but that is exceptional; they are generally black as
jet, and when fully open are of almond form and full of
sensibility and delicate sweetness. They never conceal
them, and gallant men often confess that they have interfered
with their repose of mind. It is pleasing to speak of
these beauties, for they have few to admire even this much
of their comeliness. The houses, many of them, are elegant,
and so constructed as to completely conceal the
hidden glance of the fair who are doomed to eternal isolation
when without a veil, as no woman can be seen lawfully
by any other man than her husband. She is forbidden the
homage that all nature demands. Controlled by a powerful
hand, and bound irrevocably by custom, she is compelled
not only to kiss the hand of her tyrant, but to hug
the chain which manacles her.

This despotism is the more extraordinary on the part of
the men, inasmuch as they pretend to feel delight in beautiful
objects of nature; they will watch the play of birds
for hours, and think it a crime to disturb or deprive them
of the free air they breathe. Yet they incarcerate the
loveliest and most beautiful of all the Creator's works, and
think it a great favor to permit woman's enjoyment of a
flowering shrub in some hidden recess. In tearing aside the
impenetrable curtain of the harem, it is only to see its
inmates, like the flower which the heated Khamsin touches,
withering under a jealous despot whom the law arms with
complete power, and whose cruel suspicion is endured in

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slavish silence. Such is the rule of custom, which alone
regulates society among Mahometans, if intercourse between
the sexes there can be dignified with so exalted a
term. The women rarely leave their homes, or even enjoy
the beauties of nature, as do the men, who profess great
love for rare exotics and beautiful flowers. They are employed
in preserving their complexions, the delicate tint of
which is never blemished by the light of the sun, and
enhancing their beauty by every means that long-studied
art can effect, only to please one whose delight is assured
when he knows that his prisoner is safely confined. It
seems incredible to men used to our Western civilization that
in the nineteenth century, among so large a portion of the
human family there should be an impassable barrier drawn
between the sexes, when every manly inspiration dictates a
generous sympathy for the delicate and graceful woman
whose instincts prompt her to trust in man as the natural
protector of her sex. Here she finds in him, on the contrary,
a violator of a great law of nature, who assumes the
right not only to shackle her mind, but also to confine her
person by a law of his own creation. So binding is the law
that no man shall see the face of a woman not his property,
that in case of a violation of its sanctity, it looks with favor
on the action of the injured husband should he solace his
jealousy with the death of the intruder. It is not even
permitted to recognize a woman outside of the harem. In
spite of strenuous precautions and the difficulties which
environ them, Moslem women, eluding the greatest watchfulness,
are fond of coquetting, like their Western sisters.
Though entirely uncultivated, they have delicate and pretty
ways, and show, as if by accident, their beautiful dresses
and jewelry in opening the black silk habarah which envelops
them when on the street. No women excel them in
the language of the eyes, which with them are always large
and wide open.

Society among the inmates of the harem means simply

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smoking cigarettes and pipes, and the most trivial amusements.
Instead of the sparkling conversation and pleasant
music with which the sexes reciprocally entertain each
other among Western people, horrible screamings, the
monotonous noise of drums, and the clang of tambourines
are here the solace of woman in her hours of ease. The
boasted luxury of the palaces offers in its isolation no
attraction to a refined nature. This life makes people
prematurely old; a man of fifty is wrinkled and superannuated,
and a woman at thirty has passed her meridian.
No one works unless compelled to it, as tranquillity of mind
and person best pleases the Oriental taste. They ignore
the passage of time, which never disturbs them with the
cry of bukrah (to-morrow); yet people write of the fascinations
of Eastern life. It may be the climate, with its
sunny sky and the quickening air of the desert, or possibly
the stagnation of existence which deludes them. It cannot
be the effort of thinking or of feeling that awakens pleasing
impressions, for there is nothing here that does not clash
with every sentiment, habit, and custom of intellectual life.
Society is the isolation of a prison, though the captives are
surrounded by numbers of people. The philosopher residing
in the East is forced to meditate bitterly upon the
waste of humanity around him. Only an anchorite whose
religious duty consists in counting beads could be charmed
with such monotony and silence. The man of energy and
thought would think it a cruel punishment to be forced to
undergo the ordeal of intellectual stagnation amid a people
whose ignorance and indolence fill their minds with egotism,
obstinacy, and self-importance.

It is a common thing for Egyptians who have been educated
by order of the government in the best colleges in
Europe to come back to Eastern life and immediately throw
away their books, abandon intercourse with intelligent foreigners,
shut themselves in a harem among ignorant women,
and there end their existence. This is probably what they

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mean when they say that “in their education of mind they
do not neglect the heart.” An Eastern man will sit for
hours inhaling the perfume of a sweet flower and enjoying
the music of a fountain (murmuring at the time a chapter in
the Koran, without stopping to understand its meaning)
and the beautiful objects of nature which Allah has spread
before him. He enjoys to-day, but never thinks of preserving
objects which please him in sculpture or painting,
however dear to him, for the sake of the pleasure they
might give in the future. This their writers call a life rich
in sensations.

Eastern women study beauty of person, believing that
the sole end of their life and their mission on earth is to
bear children. No wonder that the women create in the
minds of their masters that fear of infidelity of which
Mahometans complain. Whenever this calamity overtakes
them, as it sometimes does, it must be held by every
fair mind to be, so far as the injured men are concerned, a
just recompense for their suspicious and cruel treatment
of their women. Though the same laws and customs
control all classes, yet it would be a mistake to think that
women in common life possess all the loveliness and beauty
of the favored few, or that they spend their time in adorning
their persons. The women of the fellah class when
young are the perfection of symmetry. They soon, however,
lose their suppleness and good looks, from hard labor
and maternity, in premature age, instead of preserving the
rosy freshness of those who live in luxury. They have the
same dark brown skin as the fellah, and labor alike with
him, exposed to the eternal sun which dyes their tawny
complexions a still darker hue; and like the men they wear
a blue cotton dress, the men binding it round the waist, and
the women draping themselves in its loose folds. The
style of dress of all classes is unvarying. Like their religion,
it is the law, and their dreams are never disturbed by
the rapid changes of fashion. When on the street it is

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amusing to see the most elegant lady, apparently a black or
white package, waddling along in yellow slippers with
pointed toes, and their large, languid black eyes glittering
with curiosity at sight of a stranger. The eyes are the
only features seen, and even these would be veiled by law
also, but that there is so close a similarity in the appearance
of women when clothed in the habarah that their
nearest kin cannot distinguish them.

Juvenal says that the Roman ladies heightened the
beauty of their eyes by dyeing, and we all know the advice
of Ischomachus to his wife on this interesting subject, as
related by Plato in one of the Socratic dialogues. It is a
traditional art with the Eastern women of all classes and
ages to enlarge the eye and make it blacker, if possible, by
tingeing the eyelashes and eyebrows with the khohol or
antimony powder, which is mixed with the vapors of the
lamp or smoke of amber. The fair one who knows this
cunning device can imagine how the deep shading of the
eye heightens the extreme whiteness of the complexion of
these secluded women, when beheld under the illusion of
the veil. Unfortunately, the coloring does not bear close
inspection, and gives the face a severe and saddened expression.
It has been ascertained that this art was sanctioned
by immemorial usage among the ancient Egyptians, as many
of their mummies are found with stained eyelids and lashes
like those of the modern Egyptians. It has always been
an Eastern custom not only to dye with henna the surroundings
of the eye, but also to tint the rosy nails and
palms of the hand and the toe-nails and bottoms of the
feet. The women of the country are accustomed to prick
peculiarly formed pictures with Indian-ink upon their chins
and the backs of their hands. Before decorating the soles
of their feet, already delicate among the refined, they are
rubbed with a little instrument made of clay until they become
still softer and smoother, and therefore better fit to
absorb the preparation. The dye is made of the flower of

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the henna-tree, grown in Egypt, and pulverized. When
used it is diluted in water, afterward rubbed on and covered
for an hour. It then becomes of an orange color, which to
the eye of the Egyptian is very beautiful. Wilkinson says
that the priests of the ancient religion of Egypt shaved the
entire person, thinking it made them clean and pure in
approaching the throne of God. The faithful sons of the
Prophet are followers of this custom to a great extent.
They sometimes leave a tuft of hair on the heads of their
boys, that an angel may by it take them to heaven in case
of death, and the men often let their beards grow, which in
old age are considered a great ornament. The women cultivate
the hair on their heads with loving care, for it is considered
by them universally a thing of beauty; but in order
that all roughness may be smoothed and the skin have a
beautiful polish over the whole person, the hair is entirely
removed elsewhere. This care is particularly taken if
nature should be at fault and give them any semblance of a
beard when the same depilatory process is used to make it
disappear.

The Eastern notion of female beauty is a large and round
person, and next to a beautiful polish of the skin the ideal
is to be stout even to fatness. The method of attaining so
desirable an end is reduced to a science. Nothing annoys
the Oriental woman so much after marriage as a slim and
tapering shape; and she employs every effort to change
that symmetry which adds so much grace and loveliness to
the Western lady. In order to attain so happy a condition,
women make great use of the nuts of the cocoa-tree and the
bulbs of what the Arabs call the chamere-tree, which grows
abundantly in Arabia and Egypt. These are ground to a
powder and mixed with sugar, which makes to their taste a
delicious comfit, and of this they eat great quantities.
Notwithstanding this effort to change their form, they do
not always get into such flesh as to do away with all beauty
of contour, and even when married many of them have

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graceful figures and a fresh softness and fairness of complexion
which make them very attractive. In giving these
experiences of their inner life it ought to be said that one
means of possessing their charms as long as possible is the
attention they pay to perfect cleanliness. No people in the
world are more devoted to the bath (which is a religious
institution with them) than the middle classes and higher
orders of the people of the East. They love perfumes; it
is a matter of deep delight in their every-day life to inhale
the odor of attar of roses and sweet-smelling flowers. But
of all these the most agreeable to sight and smell is the
universal henna, which diffuses its odors and embellishes
every garden, however small. Like the lotos in the case of
the women of ancient Egypt, the flower of the henna is
valued by those of modern Egypt. The ladies carry it in
their hands, perfume their bosoms with it, and offer the
beautiful flower to their neighbors. They are never-failing
companions in their apartments. The significance of the
flower is that it is the emblem of fertility, the want of
which to the Eastern woman is the most dreaded of misfortunes.
So much appropriated by the women, it is considered
exclusively their own. It may not be out of place
to speak of the sable watch-dogs of the abode of bliss.
Eunuchs are as a rule the willing instruments of their masters,
but in many instances they are said to be more obedient
to the lady over whom they are supposed to have arbitrary
power; in either case they constitute a dark stain on
the East. It is often truly said that woman is frequently
at the bottom of much that is great and good, and sometimes
of much which is bad. It is a curious fact that this
refined barbarism of the eunuch originated with a woman—
Semiramis, the noted queen of antiquity, celebrated for
beauty and sensuality as well as for her skill in war and
government.

In Egypt and other Mahometan countries the birth of
a female child is a source of regret and sorrow. Girls are

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never educated in the East, except when they have the
good fortune to be the children of an enlightened potentate
or other notability, such as the late Khedive Ismail. As a
rule, women are slaves or daughters of slaves, with no education
to elevate either sentiment or character. Rarely or
never leaving their homes or the city in which they are
born, never travelling under any circumstances for pleasure
or health, the unfortunate girls live only to be sold into
slavery, very often for small sums of money. As the
inmate of a harem, the woman is made to stand, as a rule,
and wait before her master when enjoying his repast, prepared
with her own hands, and fill his pipe when that
luxury is to be indulged in; and finally, in the hour of
siesta she watches over his repose and rubs the soles of his
feet to soothe him into still more profound sleep. She
does all this and more to retain his favor, and it may be
readily imagined that, with her peculiar ideas and training,
when her purpose is thwarted she becomes wicked and vindictive
under the inspiration of jealousy. This is often excited
to the greatest fury lest a hated rival should cause an
unjust divorce. There is nothing so terrible to her mind as
the law authorizing divorce by the simple word of the man,
as it often plunges her into dire poverty when her beauty
begins to fade. Thoroughly imbued with superstition, her
first determination is to seek the learned in weaving dark
spells. Believing that her rival has enlisted one in the
same secret service, she is even willing to call upon Iblis
himself, and thereby sell her soul to the demon in order to
accomplish her design. Failing in this, she does not stand
upon ceremony, and nothing but the death of her rival can
now appease her vindictive soul, though the bowstring and
muddy waters of the Nile may be her doom in consequence.
She knows that others have faced the ordeal, and she too
seeks her revenge by a potion in the coffee of the rival.
Instances of this have been related; but not being personally
acquainted with the facts, I do not mention them.

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To realize the sacred privacy of the harem, it is only
necessary to remember that when a rival dies by poison, or
children are strangled, or a slave is killed by bad treatment,
which sometimes happens, the facts are rarely known, for
the simple reason that there is no one who dares reveal the
secret. There is no law which penetrates into the harem's
privacy, and even if there were so slender a protection,
public opinion is perfectly ready to prevent interference.
Every man is sovereign to do as he pleases with his own
household. As there is no register of births, neither is
there any of deaths. No certificate of a doctor or official is
necessary. This is particularly the case when the master
visits vengeance for crime committed by the inmates of the
harem. He can thus accomplish his will and prevent scandal.
When an irresponsible and jealous tyrant is the sole
arbiter, it can be imagined how deep and dark the deeds
may be.

To show how vague is the Mahometan idea of the
binding force of matrimony, and how easily these people
stifle natural ties when their interests or their inclinations
dictate the introduction of a multiplicity of wives into their
harem, an instance by no means uncommon within the
knowledge of the writer will be given. An officer of fine
sense, well instructed and of good character, who had
received much kindness from me, desiring, as he said, to
make some return, suggested that the only way it could be
done was simply to take another wife. He coolly said that
his mother had advised him to do so, because this would
enable him to give a grand “fantasia” (this is a word the
Egyptian magnates use for their fêtes or celebrations when
addressing a foreigner). As their weddings are always
attended with great rejoicings and feastings, in which they
spend large sums, the occasion would enable him to invite
me as the honored guest. Not fully appreciating the interesting
part I was called upon to play, however, I determined
to refuse the proffered honor, and gave my reasons

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for declining. Upon asking the Arab if he were not
pleased with his present wife, I received the reply that she
was a good woman and a good wife; that she had borne
him several children, among them a son, and was as beautiful
as an houri. To this I answered that I did not believe
it was right to fill his home with many women; that I
“should consider his invitation an insult instead of an
honor;” and that if he were an ignorant Arab, who had
never associated with enlightened men and acted merely in
obedience to his Mahometan faith, there might be some
excuse; but that for the reasons given such an act could
not be perpetrated without crime. The other answered
that if not now, it would be absolutely necessary for him to
take a new wife in the early future, because women grow
old and ugly in their country sooner than in others, and that
it was obeying a great law of nature that men should have
young wives to increase and multiply as commanded by the
Koran, since the Prophet, in case they could support them,
allowed four. He was then asked if he introduced another
wife into his family, was it not certain that his present wife
would be moved by the same feeling of indignation that
would stir him in case she demanded an additional husband?
No, he thought not, as she was ignorant, and her
peculiar training was otherwise. She knew it was criminal,
and that the law visited instant and terrible punishment for
any violation of the marital rights of her husband. But he
was told that it was his fault that she was ignorant, and
that he would be equally to blame in case she became prematurely
old; that, taking advantage of his own wrongs in
every particular, in his treatment of her it was as if she was
his slave in reality as she was in name, and his conduct
could not be considered other than cruel and brutal; that
in all civilized countries women were on an equality with
the men, and that their rights were protected by the same
law, exacting constancy; that their demands were even
more powerful than any written law, and that elevated,

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refined, and educated, they were always good, young, and
beautiful. There, men never had but one wife; here, the
thread was snapped asunder often without cause; there,
divorces were sometimes resorted to, but only in extreme
cases, where the man or the woman was guilty of vicious or
bad conduct. That it mattered not how this might be, his
proposition would be looked upon in all enlightened countries,
not only as a crime, but as an act of cowardice, in
wronging a helpless woman who could not protect herself;
that in taking another wife into his family, outraging his
present wife and children, the law might protect him here,
but everywhere else in the world he would be branded
morally, and punished by the law. Though what passed
did not seem to make much impression at the time, years
afterward he said that it did, and as he grew older and
wiser he had reason to be thankful for the advice given him
upon that occasion.

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CHAPTER XI.
MAHOMET AND HIS RELIGION.

The great Mahometan mosque at Cairo—The nature of the religion—
Common origin of the Jews and Arabs—Conditions under which the
religion was founded—Mahomet and his career—Evils and sensuality
of the system—Obligations of the Prophet to Jewish and Christian
teachings—Present status of Mahometanism—The relations of Turkey
to the future of Islam—Its decadence and speedy downfall.

ONE of the most interesting places in Cairo is the Mosque
Gama-el-Azur. Founded in A.D. 975, it is the greatest
university for instruction in pure Arabic and education in
the Mahometan faith that exists in the Moslem world.
Without architectural beauty, it covers a vast extent of
ground, and is situated in the centre of the city. The
structure is supported by innumerable columns, and here,
seated cross-legged on mats, as many as 12,000 students
may be seen in the grand hall engaged in their studies.
They come from Europe, Asia, and Africa, representing
divers colors and nationalities. Nowhere can one study at
a single glance more of those races of the human family,
which are not often met with unless the voyager penetrates
far into the deserts of Africa or the steppes of Asia. It is
here that the undefiled truths of the Koran in its original
language are taught. The focus of fanaticism, votaries are
sent from this seat of Islam to fire the heart of the believer,
and upon their zeal and learning the hopes of Mahometanism
are based for the future. To my Arab adjutant-general,
Lutfy Bey, an educated hadji (one who had been
to Mecca), and who was on my staff for many years, a good
man and faithful follower of the Prophet, I am indebted

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for much information about this university and the belief
taught there, that would have been difficult to obtain
otherwise. Students first learn pure Arabic and then
memorize the entire Koran, which is done while swinging
to and fro and singing it in chorus. By a series of lectures
the ulemas instruct the pupils in the doctrine of the unity
of God. They believe that there are twelve attributes of
God and the Prophet. They also religiously believe (and
this troubles them often very seriously in life) in the existence
of angels and of good and evil genii, the evil genii
being devils, whose chief is Iblis; in the immortality of the
soul; the general resurrection and judgment; in future
rewards and punishments; in paradise and hell; in the
balance in which good and evil works shall be weighed, and
the bridge (El Sirat) which extends over the midst of the
dark regions, finer than a hair and sharper than the edge of
a sword, and over which all must pass and from which the
wicked shall fall. Instruction in these doctrines is followed
by the study of the two branches of the Law—one religious,
the recognition of the unity of God and of Mahomet as
his Prophet, and the other secular—civil and criminal law,
either expressly written in the Koran or tradition (Hatith)
deducible from the sacred book. In other words, the study
of the Law is the scientific interpretation of the Koran
(Tufsir), and to attain a proper knowledge there are learned
disquisitions, opinions, and decisions of their celebrated
saints and jurists, which are thoroughly studied and committed
to memory.

It will be seen that their religion, which is their “faith
and practice,” is a hard, unbending study. Making the
law, which governs them in all time and in every affair of
life, unchanging, it cannot but conflict with the progress of
the present age; and, tested as it is now by civilization, it
is reeling with the shock, and must at an early day succumb.
The Koran and its traditions constitute the dry
sediment of antique lore. Believers learn the Koran by

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heart, and accept it and the traditions of the Mahometan
writers with implicit faith, with no question, no criticism. I
know many sheiks of ability and learning who are opposed
to the study of astronomy because the moderns insist upon
the world being round. This is only mentioned as one of
the thousand instances of their bigotry and opposition to
enlightenment.

In his extensive travels the Prophet observed a universal
neglect of all religions; and becoming interested from conversations
with intelligent Jews and Christians in the contents
of the Bible, though unlettered, he was enabled through
his wonderful memory to retain the most important facts of
the history given him. There are many considerations
aside from biblical authority which go to show that the
Arabs were originally of common origin with the Jews.
Job lived in Arabia, being Semitic, and in close proximity
to Palestine. The Arabs were no doubt mixed with the
Jews, who planted extensive colonies in Arabia after the
fall of Jerusalem and on their return from captivity. Some
provinces were wholly inhabited by them, and among the
Arabs to-day the physiognomy is of a marked Jewish type,
while the language is very similar. Spreading an idea of
the one God which they brought with them, the expatriated
Jews in their turn, wherever they lived, adopted largely the
customs and habits and to some extent the religion of
those among whom they had cast their fortunes. There
were also many tribes in Arabia who called themselves
Christians, but their faith was really a gross idolatry.

The Jew and the Christian worshipped in the same place
with the Pagan. More especially was the Caaba equally
sacred to them as to the idolaters, and they alike worshipped
the personifications of the attributes of God. The
whole people were abandoned to degraded superstitions,
and so sunk in idolatry that they had long forgotten the
true God and devoted themselves to an earthly object
which pleased their fancy. The Jewish and Christian

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people, as well as the Arabs proper, occupied the country
in separate tribes, without any regular government to bind
them, very much like the Bedouin or Abyssinian of to-day;
and like them they had their blood feuds which kept them
in constant war. They cared little for their female children,
and often destroyed them. So utterly debased were
they that they were known to offer human sacrifices!
What added to their untold misery was an improvident
idleness, which often entailed upon them countless evils,
and afflicted great portions of their country with terrible
suffering. This was the condition of the people of Arabia
in the seventh century, when Mahomet like a bright
meteor appeared upon the scene. Captivated by the interesting
history of Moses, the great lawgiver and expounder
of the patriarchal religion, his mind became impressed with
its truth. What deeply affected him and contributed to
form his belief was the fact that the people of Arabia in
many particulars bore a striking resemblance to the early
Jews just emerging from the “house of bondage.” They
too had departed from the true God and worshipped after
the fashion of the ancient Egyptian. To understand the
followers of Islam and the religion which they profess, it is
necessary to get some idea of the character of the man
whose teachings they obey, and of the singular methods by
which he has swayed the minds of so many people for so
many centuries. It is also important to know the conditions
of the age in which he lived.

It is only in this enlightened day that the world is willing
to receive a candid statement of the character of Mahomet
and his mission, the motives which governed him, and the
influences which have chained so many millions of human
beings to his despotic law. For over 1200 years the sons of
the Prophet have held undisputed sway over vast portions
of Asia and Africa. They forced back upon Europe countless
thousands of Crusaders, and not only raised the crescent over
the holy places of the East, but blotted out the

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remnant of the mighty Greek empire, and compelled the
fairest portions of Spain to submit to the rule of the scimitar.
At a still more recent date, in the last and expiring
outburst of fanaticism, Europe heard the war-cry of the
Mahometan invader. Mahomet, an ignorant camel-driver,
was an enthusiast of wonderful intellectual power. Living
a life of the simplest habits and tastes, and travelling over
vast distances, his acute observations enabled him to store
up a great amount of knowledge. It was only after he was
forty years of age that he became a reformer. Coming
from a family which claimed descent from Ishmael, he never
made any pretension to it. His family for many centuries
held the priesthood of the famous temple of the “Caaba”
at Mecca. This holy fane contains the traditional black
stone which came from heaven, or, as some say, from
Adam's Paradise. The pilgrims who go there fully believe
that it was blackened by the kisses of Adam mourning the
loss of Eve, who afterward joined him at Mecca. It is not
only now but in all time that this temple has attracted
pilgrims from all parts of Asia and Africa. Somewhere
between the fourth and fifth centuries the family of the
Prophet united both temporal and spiritual power, and it
was in this way that he became related by blood with the
most famous people of Arabia. It is not an unusual thing
to trace back this blood relationship for generations, for in
the East it has always been the custom to carefully preserve
traditions of genealogy. There are many to-day there who
claim descent from the Prophet, and as such are entitled to
wear the green turban. Numbers, from the lowest fellah to
the highest prince, are alike considered to possess this title
of distinction. All who go to Egypt visit the house in old
Cairo where there is a family now living claiming descent
from the Prophet, and whose ancestors are represented as
having occupied it for eight hundred years.

Mahomet's powerful intellect deeply imbued with religious
feeling was appalled by the universal superstition and

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idolatry around him. Professing to believe himself inspired,
and that the time had come to reform the world, he boldly
declared, like Moses, his faith in a personal God and the
unity of God, the same that Abraham had worshipped
That which powerfully operated upon his mind to make
this strong declaration was that people among whom the
Patriarchs worshipped strikingly resembled his people, in
the worship of the personifications of Deity. Moses, who
was the first to declare the personality of God both of
heaven and earth, proclaimed at the same time that he was
the God of their fathers. Mahomet, to make his mission
broader in its scope, went a step farther than Moses, and
declared that “Allah” is the God of the universe, of all
that is in heaven and earth, reigning over the whole human
family. He had seen the effect in the religion of the
Saviour, for Christ loved all humanity; but wishing to preserve
the similarity between Arab and Hebrew traditions,
he declared that his mission was to bring back the primitive
religion of the Patriarchs. There are reasons for not
thinking, with many able writers, that his entire scheme
was simply “the accident of common origin and circumstances”
which caused the resemblance of the Mosaic religion
with that of the later Prophet. There can be no doubt
that he found inspiration in direct knowledge of the writings
of Moses, which were learned of Jew and Christian,
and which Mahomet had studied until he was forty years of
age. He knew the numerous traditional truths intimately
connected with the superstitious beliefs of the Arabs, and
there is abundant evidence in the Koran that his subtle
mind utilized these in forming and spreading his religion.
Living among a people accustomed to despotic rule, he
could not conceive of any other system, either in religion
or government. Starting as a reformer, to meet with success
he must speak as one with authority; his theory must
have the force of command; and above all, to inspire confidence
it was necessary to believe in himself. A delicate

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man, but possessing immense nervous energy, he enthusiastically
entered in his first essay, upon what he thought his
mission, and gave his whole mind and time to the work,
with full confidence that he was the chosen of God. He
clothed the sublime doctrine of the Unity of God with such
beauty, out of the imagery of his heated imagination, that
it enthralled the minds of the ignorant and superstitious.
His followers believed him inspired, and soon all were
enchained by his dogmas, and only too willing to bow to
their divine authority. In the statement, “There is only
one God, Mahomet is his prophet,” there was no persuasion;
it was a command: “Believe in what I say; receive
it without question, without argument; otherwise you must
resist the truth with force.”

Starting with the idea that he was, like Moses, in direct
communication with God, there could be no alternative to
perfect submission to his law. He made no effort by
miracles at this time to impress the popular mind. He was
particular in proclaiming, “I am not sent to work miracles,
but to bring you to the revelations of God.” He claimed,
however, that his whole doctrine was a standing miracle,
and did not require special miracles to sustain it. His life
and claims were contradictory, according to Western ideas,
and faith in his sacred inspiration is silenced. For, with all
his austerity and ascetic life, he was steeped in sensuality.
These were the indulgences that suited the Eastern man,
and in adapting his religion to such inclinations his example
has inflicted terrible wrong upon his followers. It is one of
those seeds in Mahometanism which is causing its decay
and ultimate destruction. It is well to remark here that
Mahomet, notwithstanding his low estimate of woman, distinctly
says, “Whoso worketh righteousness, whether they
be male or female, and is a true believer, we will raise them
to a happy life, and reward according to merit and actions.”
While he had illustrious examples for all he did, and only
followed the customs and habits of those around him, as a

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great reformer it was to have been expected that he would
cut himself loose from the sordid instincts of humanity. If
in the grand idea of a universal religion which professed an
Allah for the whole human race, he had really possessed a
prescient mind, while subjecting the Oriental, he would
have made it acceptable to the cultivated, refined, and moral
intellects of other peoples. Unfortunately for its success,
while crushing out the most debased polytheism and introducing
many reforms, he indelibly stained his great work,
in the minds of intelligent and moral men in all times.
Assuming the mantle of a great reformer, he grovelled in
the frailties of the ignorant masses instead of teaching a
higher morality. For present success he was content to
narrow his mission to the control of the Semitic mind by
gratifying the senses. A religion so debased at the outset
could only be rooted in ignorance and be utterly incapable
of withstanding the logic of time.

In Mahomet's evident desire of winning proselytes
through the senses, his pretension to sanctity is swept
away, lowering him as it does to the level of common
humanity, whose conscience was satisfied with the peculiar
ideas of right and wrong that base superstitions had for so
many centuries deeply instilled into the Eastern mind.

So far from being entirely ignorant of the pure religion
of the Saviour of men, there are evidences in the Koran to
show that he was intimately acquainted with its highest
morality. But, illiterate himself, he could not fathom from
study the depths of its pure philosophy. It has only been
in these latter days that we have seen the effect of Christianity
upon the mind of Islam in some of its beautiful lessons,
which their writers have assumed to be an outspring
of their religion. While Mahomet learned much of doctrine,
his memory was at fault, and led him into many
errors touching history, sacred and profane. In telling the
story of our Saviour, he makes Mary, whom he styles the
sister of Aaron and the daughter of Amroû, the mother of

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the Son of man. He styled the Saviour the “Word of
God.” He says in the Koran, “O Mary, verily God sends
thee good tidings, that thou shalt bear the Word,” and
declares him to be the Messiah, who performed miracles
greater than he could, though in most respects he abrogated
his authority.

Modern investigators are satisfied that he only repeated
what he had heard from Jews and Christians, and through
misconception ignorantly wrote the many palpable errors
found in the Koran. They have thought that he professed
to be the principal mediator between God and man, and his
followers believed he performed miracles, but he emphatically
disclaimed both. Notwithstanding that Islam is a
ceremonial law, Mahomet never concealed his uncompromising
opposition to a Saviour or intermediary between
man and his Creator. This was his reason for not establishing
a regular hierarchy with a numerous priesthood to
explain his religion, instead of which he declares explicitly
that the head of every family shall be his own priest.

No earthly power to decide questions, no other book
than the Koran—that is the law in or out of the mosque.
It has been said that Mahomet did not propose to perform
miracles, as it was dangerous to do so without risking his
credit, but it must be understood that he did claim to be a
standing miracle. Toward the close of his embassy, when
he was pursued by the vindictive fury of Jew, Christian,
and Pagan, he seems to have lost confidence in himself. It
then became necessary to substantiate his power by some
extraordinary demonstration, and to aid the great work
which seemed always in his mind, the Faithful were suddenly
startled by his pretended visit to heaven, escorted by
the angel Gabriel. This is beautifully pictured in the
Koran, and glows with the splendid imagery of Oriental
figure, with which he was so richly gifted. These heavenly
voyages captivated the popular mind, and not only established
belief in his inspiration, but also that his stories had

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been written by the finger of God. Great numbers at once
rallied to the standard of the Prophet, and, fired by a fervid
fanaticism, were only too happy to court death as holy in
defence of the faith. Raising the green flag, the believers
in the new religion took up the line of march on their
pilgrimage to the Caaba (the temple at Mecca), in the full
expectation of cementing their faith with their blood.
Setting at defiance the earlier claims of “the man of
peace,” it was here that Mahomet, with scimitar in hand,
determined to propagate his religion by force. In this
pilgrimage to Mecca, Mahomet destroyed forever any confidence
in his mission as a great moral reformer; and if he
had not done it before, this act has sufficed to convince the
world that he had lost his own self-belief, which he
had so splendidly asserted in his early career. Thus Mahomet
disrobed himself of his mantle of sincerity, and is
indelibly stamped upon the page of history as an impostor.
Born of the sword, this religion from that day has been
continued in blood and only sustained by a most cruel despotism,
founded upon the ignorance of its followers, who
regard it as a solemn duty to kiss the chain that manacles
them. Opposed to enlightenment, it crushes out all independence
of thought and action, existing only by trampling
under the heel of fanaticism education, progress, and every
liberal principle. Though it has survived for many centuries,
the touch of civilization is making it crumble away like
the Dead Sea apple which turns to dust in the hand. A
distinguished English writer of long residence in the East
has recently given it as his opinion that Mahometanism is
increasing. He insists that it would make but little difference
to Mahometanism if Turkey were blotted out as a
power. There is no doubt that in a certain sense both
propositions are true. The increase is in the unexplored
wilds of Africa, of the Indies, and of China, where it is
next to impossible for Western civilization to penetrate.
An enlightened Christian bishop, who has earnestly devoted

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a life to the welfare of the African savages, and is now in
Abyssinia engaged in the work, said that Mahometans
were inducing great numbers of the Africans to adopt that
faith without any genuine knowledge of it on the part of
the converts. So it is in India and China, where no man of
intelligence and character ever dreams of it. True, there
are instances within my knowledge of Frenchmen and Italians,
and even of Englishmen, who have pretended conversion
and adopted the habits and customs of the people. In
every instance the change was through interested motives,
and the Englishmen quitted the fraternity as soon as their
ends were gained. Long before Turkey became powerful,
Islam, which only lived by the sword, had really lost all the
moral influence it ever possessed. Turkish rule was only
incited by conquest and lust, and that, among those already
destroyed by religious dissension and political weakness.
Turkish power has blasted every country which unfortunately
has fallen under its sway. It is a fetid mass, whose
only principle is waste, ignorance, and superstition, and
whose prosperity is only temporarily secured by what it has
gathered from the ruins of others. Never having become a
people until after they had been conquered and the slaves
of the Mahometan, and never having known the fervor of
their early conquerors, the Turks were moved from the
beginning only by the savage cry of lust and plunder!
Their religion was only a name: it had no principle. Thus
it has happened that at the first check it received from the
hand of civilization, though professedly the head of Islam,
it was thrown back upon itself; a miserable “excrescence,”
an incubus upon what little of vitality is left in Islamism.

The jealousy of the great powers of Europe alone keeps
Turkey in existence as a government. One more embrace
of the “great bear” and her empire will break into fragments.
An acquaintance of many years with the Turkish
dominions induces me to believe that outside of the territory
immediately surrounding Constantinople, the people

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are kept under subjection only through force. Those in
the distant provinces are hereditary enemies. The Arab,
looking upon the Turk as the oppressor of his race for centuries,
has a cordial hatred of him. The real cause of this
hurrying of Islam to its doom—it matters not where its
rallying focus may be—comes back at last to the religion
itself, which antagonizes all knowledge and advancement.
The fact is that the Prophet in forming his religion attempted
to legislate for all time, making laws which suited
the primitive people of Arabia, and then called his code a
religion. It never entered his mind that these laws, incapable
of expansion, and suited only to meet the exigencies of
an ignorant and brutal people, would have to undergo the
shock of contact with a higher civilization. To restore the
patriarchal system, where law and religion were mixed, was
on his mind, and it is the thread of all his discourse in his
Koran. He could entertain no other notion than that it
was perfect, and the idea of its ever succumbing to any
other scheme was never dreamed of in his Oriental philosophy,
particularly that the Christian religion would ever be
elevated from the condition in which he knew it, to test his
violent dogmas. There was a brief period in which his
religion stood the ordeal of advanced ideas, and then it was
founded upon what was learned from the Greeks. For a
moment there was a bright era in literature and the fine
arts, and even then it was the narrow and crystallized study
of the past. The arts of the Mahometans were simply confined
to architecture, their science to mathematics and
medicine; and their literature, soft and voluptuous, was
but an outspring of their sensual religion. Condemning
sculpture and painting, they replaced them by beautiful
writing and tracery on stone; nothing was lasting. This
was only a silver lining on the dark cloud of fanaticism.
History graphically describes all they ever did, which was
under the caliphs of Bagdad and those of Granada. Then
temporary civilization was forced upon an unwilling people,

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in defiance of orthodox believers. It began and disappeared
with the enlightened caliphs. The only life that
Islam has is sustained by British bayonets, and only where
the system exists in her path to the Indies. As it is, the
girdle of civilization is so encircling the cursed thing that,
like the scorpion when it has no escape, it is turning upon
and stinging itself to death. In the course of Providence
Islamism is in its death-throes, and its end is nearer than is
generally thought.

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CHAPTER XII.
THE NILE LANDS AND THEIR CULTIVATION.

The ascent of the Nile—Importance of the river to Egypt—The appearance
of the banks—The oasis of Fiyoom, the site of the ancient Crocodilopolis
and of Arsinoe—One of the Edens of Egypt—Legends and traditions—
Ismail's great estates here, now the property of the bondfolders—Something
more about the fellah and his customs—The most important men
in Egypt—Adherence to ancient customs—Millions of dollars spent by
Ismail in introducing machinery and improvements—Needs of Egyptian
farming.

ON my first visit to Egypt it was a difficult enterprise to
make a trip up the Nile. Now the facilities are perfect.
One method is by the slow diahbeeyah, a boat fitted up as
luxuriously as a drawing-room, in which the traveller can
float in delicious indolence, without danger of meeting an
acquaintance, or experiencing a single ripple of disturbance
to mar his dreams. The other method is by a well-conducted
and comfortable steamer. The first method of
travel takes about three months, the latter about three
weeks; and though the diahbeeyah has a certain delicious
charm of its own, the majority of travellers prefer the
steamer. The present age of tourists is too restless to
waste three months, even on the most interesting of rivers.
Though old Father Nile has so great a history and is nearly
as long as any river in the world, yet it is only during a
short season that it is navigable for any great distance.

As soon as it stops raining at the Equator and in Abyssinia
the surplus water runs out into the sea or is absorbed
by the thirsty lands along the river. Even during the
winter season, when travellers ascend, it becomes necessary

140

to tie up at night to keep from grounding on sandbars, and
sometimes during the day the boat must be pulled off by
other steamers. At Cairo in the month of May there is
only six feet of water; in October there is twenty-six,
and this is the beginning of the season for navigation.
The Nile begins to rise about the 17th of June, when the
Egyptians believe a miraculous drop of water falls from
heaven during the night and causes it to rise. About the
10th of August it is high enough to irrigate the lands, and
it is then that the great ceremony of cutting the dam of the
canal, called the Khalig, near Cairo, a thing of immemorial
usage, takes place. The Khedive and all Egypt are present
when this is done, amid great rejoicing, firing of cannon,
brilliant illumination, and fireworks. The Nile is then covered
with boats filled with people, who remain up all night
to enjoy the picturesque spectacle. Upon this occasion the
ancient Egyptians were accustomed to appease the god of
the Nile and induce him to bestow a bountiful inundation
by throwing as a sacrifice into its sacred water a beautiful
virgin. A manikin was substituted by the early Christians
the Arabs build one now of the Nile mud inside of the
dam, which is swept away by the rush of the water when it
is cut.

My last voyage up the Nile was on a steamer; the other
way, in a diahbeeyah, was too much like crossing the North
American plains in an ambulance when there is a railroad
to transport one over the vast uninhabited country. For
many miles the banks are monotonous, and it is only those
who like the dolce far niente who travel in the diahbeeyah.
With an agreeable party a few weeks among the ruins is as.
long as one cares to linger, unless he is an Egyptologist,
deep in the study of the ancients. The voyager is always
glad when he gets through with his trip, even on a steamer.
Before making the long ascent it is pleasant to take rail to
the Fiyoom, an oasis a short distance from the Nile, 65
miles above Cairo. Its important town, Medeenet, is interesting,

The Ancient Egyptians throwing the Virgin into the Nile.

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as it is built upon the ruins of the famous city of
Crocodilopolis, afterward called Arsinoe. Some think the
Hebrews were forced to labor here in constructing its great
monuments, and that the patriarch Joseph was buried here
before being carried by his people to the Holy Land.
Every place in Egypt has its incident. The tradition
among the Copts is that Arsinoe was once destroyed by the
enemy tying torches to the tails of cats and running them into
the city, which was soon in flames. It would be difficult,
with even this wonderful device, to burn down the new city,
as it is almost entirely built of mud. This plateau, situated
in the Libyan hills, surrounded by deserts, is an oval basin
25 or 30 miles in extent each way, and from its luxuriant
cultivation may be truly said to be the land of roses. It is
intersected by canals, and wherever the eye is directed the
lofty minarets mark an Arab village. In ancient times
there were nearly a million acres planted in this oasis, but
it is greatly reduced now, though the bondholders have
control of over 100,000 acres belonging to Egypt, which
they have seized to help pay its debt. It is a great fruit
region, is celebrated for its cereals, and it was here that
Cleopatra obtained the beautiful flowers for her magnificent
banquets. It is now remarkable for its sugar-cane, and
cotton of modern introduction, and for many of those
stupendous mills and refineries of which so much has been
written apropos of the extravagance of the Khedive, Ismail.
An epitome of Egypt is here in all its phases. Wending
one's way along the banks of the canal, one can always see
the traditional Arab on his homar (ass), with his red tarboosh
(fez) over his bronzed face. He is tall of stature,
with broad chest, the pride of race indicated in his face,
with large almond eyes, and dressed in his blue chemise,
while two pointed slippers are stuck up in the air, partly to
escape the ground and partly to keep them on his feet, for
he never wears heels. His better half, with her blue
habarah thrown over her, concealing her head and face and

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draping her erect and graceful form (the same fashionable
dress as that of the man), wears rings in her nose and
flowers pricked in blue on her chin, between her eyes, on
her arms, and on the back of her hands to imitate gloves.
The palms of her hand, her finger-nails, toe-nails, and the
bottoms of her feet are stained with henna, giving them a
dingy color of dirty brown. Even with her the coquetry of
silver bracelets and anklets is fully displayed. To add still
more to the man's proof of the superiority of his sex, while
he rides she is often seen to carry on her head a heavy
load which balances itself, one child straddling her shoulders
and another her side, the latter one being held on with
her gracefully turned arm. Yet with all this habitual load,
when young she is the perfection of form, and her hands
and feet are well pointed and pretty. Thus you have a
common picture of the fellah and his interesting spouse.
The fellah takes pride in showing complete disregard of the
human beast of burden trudging alongside him under the
weight of his progeny. Not only thus, but in conversation
among men he expresses a contempt for women. If the
matter is ever spoken of, which is seldom, he never fails to
let you know his pride of sex; but in this as a rule he is an
arrant impostor, for women everywhere must sometimes
have their say. In private life he does the best he can to
treat his wife kindly, and in the mud hut she is evidently
the reigning sovereign. I never entered a village wherein I
did not hear her lashing her lord with the most fearful
abuse and banging his children without mercy. No doubt
the hardships of maternity and labor sour her good-nature,
and as man is largely responsible for them, I never have
heard her outcries without delight, though I always felt
sorry for the poor miserable little naked beings who get the
severest punishment for their peccadilloes. In looking
closer at the fellah, who really thinks he is the “salt of the
earth,” one is not sorry that the poor soul has some small
gratification in his hard lot. When stripped of the little

143

glory that invests him, and he is seen divested of all clothing
except the yellow camel's-hair tarboosh upon his shaven
head, laboring in the broiling sun of Egypt, while standing
up to his knees in the alluvium of the Nile, my heart has
always gone out to him. Talk of slavery in any other
country compared with that of the fellah! The former
slaves of America lived in palaces and dressed in fine linen
in comparison. Having a horror of war, from long oppression
the fellah acts with pusillanimity; he will not defend
himself unless he lives in a city and comes in contact with
Europeans. As a rule he never strikes back, but always
makes a great noise with those of his race who cross his
path. Rarely coming to blows, they pull each other's beard
when excited, which is considered a very great insult. If
told that Allah does not like it, the disputants are glad to
kiss and make friends. Robbery, unless of trifles, and
murder and assassination are almost unknown. They have
a horror of taking the life of even a bird. This man of all
work, though owning the soil, receives little for his labor,
as what is not taken by the bondholder is seized by the
official, leaving him but a scanty supply to subsist upon;
or, as a writer of new Egypt tells us, “Unless he gives the
last piastre, the sceptre of old Egypt” is applied to obtain
it; becoming accustomed to the kourbash, he rather likes
it, and begs as a great happiness to see his wife and children
starve. Docile and amiable, the fellah is resigned to
his lot, and carries the heavy yoke uncomplainingly. To
keep from the government a few piastres (cents), he is willing
to receive any number of lashes, and will turn the other
cheek for more. He delights to kiss the hand that strikes
him, and being a grown-up child he weeps when the stroke
pains him—that is all. Whatever the natural instincts of
these people may be, and however the climate may enervate,
from necessity they are at least not idle. It is not
the worthless rabble of the cities who furnish the wealth,
but it is the cultivator of the soil who pays the millions to

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the foreigner and enriches the officials of Egypt. There is
little evidence of a desire to improve his condition, notwithstanding
the great effort made by Ismail to elevate him.
Content to live in his miserable mud hut, he will not inhabit
a better, since the fear of imposts and official exactions
deter him. He never spends anything for progress, and
opposes all that is new or contrary to custom. He retains
the same old plough, often dragged by a camel and a
donkey chained together; to draw water from the Nile he
uses the same bucket (shadif) used in the time of Joseph,
and employs the same old creaking asekia, a string of
earthen buckets around a wheel, wherewith to draw water
out of a well to irrigate his lands when the Nile is low.
It is turned by a blinded buffalo, that Egyptian beast of
all work.

These are the people squatted upon the débris of the
Labyrinth, one of the greatest wonders of the world, where
the women shake buffalo-milk in goatskins for hours to
make butter for use, and the men may be seen nursing the
children and knitting stockings for sale. It is difficult to
realize that this race exists where once stood that Labyrinth,
of which even the Greek historians were forced to
write: “If one were to unite all the buildings and all the
great works of the Greeks, they would yet be inferior to
this edifice, both in labor and expense, although the temples
of Ephesus and Samos are justly celebrated. Even
the Pyramids are certainly monuments which surpass their
expectation, and each one of them may be compared with
the greatest productions of the Greeks; nevertheless the
Labyrinth is greater still.”

The crumbling Pyramids found here tell us that this was
a great necropolis for the millions of dead. It was a
celebrated spot from the earliest ages, and its history culminated
in great magnificence during the splendid epoch of
the twelfth dynasty. This valley, now so neglected but
still so beautiful, must have presented at that time a

Egyptian Water-Wheel.

145

parterre of varied beauty, unrivalled by anything in that
marvellous country of agricultural and architectural wonders.
Here the great Thothmes and Rameses, of the eighteenth
and nineteenth dynasties, gave forth their edicts in
the midst of the great political and religious assemblies,
while gathered in united wisdom under the same eternal
sun which gladdened the scene then as it does now with
nature's green carpet, its golden harvest, and the waving
palms. Here war was declared, and the martial tread of
thousands was heard, and kings and queens bent in humiliation
under the iron heel of the Egyptian Pharaoh. Now
there is a stillness like that of an eternal Sabbath, and
scarcely a vestige is left to show that it was ever otherwise.
If the Labyrinth surpassed all wonders out of Egypt, the
artificial lake (Moeris) was greater. Instead of an expanse
of over thirty miles of water as in that day, it is almost
entirely a cultivated field now. Amenemhah, a Pharaoh of
the twelfth dynasty, about 3000 years B.C. dug an artificial
lake in the centre of this oasis, covering a surface of
over 10,000,000 square yards, as a reservoir to hold water
enough not only to irrigate the Fiyoom valley, but to
extend down the left bank of the Nile over 200 miles to
the sea. It was so arranged with dams and sluices as to
completely control this immense volume of water, in connection
with a natural lake already existing, and thus fertilize
the whole land for that great distance.

Before leaving this interesting subject I must speak of a
passing incident. Last winter in one of the cities of Florida
I saw a man standing in front of a wagon selling what he
called “wizard oil,” promising to cure all the diseases
poor humanity was heir to, and adding that it made old
people young again. An old decrepit lady, hearing this
note of comfort while passing, raised her venerable head to
be assured, and then darted across the street for a bottle.
This incident reminded me that a sheik I met in the
Fiyoom oasis said that the legend with the Arabs was that

146

Joseph lived here. The patriarch riding out one day met
an old and ugly woman, and was forced to say that she was
more hideous than any one he had ever seen. She replied
by asking him to pray to Allah to make her young again,
and as Allah always answered his prayers it would come to
pass. Joseph did so, and she became so beautiful that he
married her. She survived him to a green old age, and
was gathered to her fathers. She soon found herself the
only old woman in Paradise, and learned that Allah never
made old women young but once.

If we pity the fellah standing in rags and wretchedness
up to his middle in mud, it is amusing to witness the sort
of comic superiority he assumes over the civilized man, for
he believes himself a favorite of Allah, and thinks he is
assured of a future in Paradise. How much more amazing
is the story told by the hieroglyphics, that his ancestors,
the ancient Egyptians, who were the wisest people of their
day, who conquered the world and constructed monuments
of utility and grandeur many of which exceed in extent
and magnificence anything even in this day, made use of
this wonderful lake to nourish and protect the loathsome
crocodile, and that they worshipped it with the deepest
devotion. They named a populous and renowned city and
province after it, and in order that the reptile might be
perfectly happy, had prepared for it geese, fish, and various
meats, dressed with tender care to tempt its appetite. Its
head and ears were ornamented with rings, its feet with
anklets, and it had a necklace of gold and artificial stones.
Rendered tame by kindness, after death it was embalmed
in the most sumptuous manner, and its sacred remains deposited
in a gorgeous tomb. It is difficult to decide at
which to marvel the more, the ancient man who built all
these magnificent monuments but worshipped the crocodile,
or the modern one who destroyed these fine constructions
but who believes in Allah. There is a satisfaction in knowing
that there was a difference of opinion as to the superior

Ramesis II. and Three Sons Storming a Fortress.

147

merits of this repulsive creature, for in the next Heracleopolitan
province the wise people worshipped the ichneumon,
the deadly enemy of the crocodile, the fable being
that it crawled down the throat of its neighboring god
when asleep and fed upon its sacred intestines. The result
of this amiable rivalry caused bloody feuds between the
two provinces, and resulted in a terrible conflict in the early
Roman day, so violent that it is said to have been the cause
of the destruction of the Labyrinth. Pliny writes that the
destruction was as much due to these superstitions as to
the corroding tooth of time. It is to be hoped that in
further research among the hidden tombs more light may
be thrown upon a religion which descended so low in the
scale of creation to find an object of worship. The same
people not only built splendid monuments, but threw a
halo of beauty around the highest maxims of truth, giving
expression to some of the finest moral conceptions of which
the human mind is capable.

Some of the richest lands in Egypt were at one time the
private property of the Khedive (Ismail), and a large portion,
nearly a half million acres, was planted in this oasis.
Beginning near here, there were 200,000 acres situated along
the left bank of the Nile, extending some distance above
Minieh, and 50,000 more above Luxor. Among the numerous
constructions of Ismail, one that reflects wonderful credit
upon him consists of the great embankments and other
appliances for the collection, distribution, and regulation of
the vast volume of water so necessary to successful cultivation
in this country. There were many grand constructions
of this character, which will compare favorably with those
of the ancients in their most brilliant era. Loud clamor
has been made against the Khedive for wastefulness, but in
these improvements he has shown lasting and practical usefulness.
It cannot be said that he wasted money in his
lavish attempts to advance cultivation by the introduction of
new inventions for agricultural purposes, by planting trees

148

and establishing beautiful gardens, breaking as he did through
the trammels of long usage to effect these changes for the
certain prosperity of the people, in spite of the opposition
of all classes. No man in the world had such planting
interests. The railroads to traverse his estates cost
over $5,000,000; there were twelve enormous sugar-mills,
among the largest in the world, each said to have cost
$1,000,000, with great numbers of refineries and cotton-gins.
These were called extravagances, but they added to
the wealth and increased the population of Egypt. Ismail
was anxious for the development of the country, and particularly
its soil, knowing that the life of his people and his
own security in this age of progress required these improvements.
It must be remarked here that Ismail, in his too
great desire for these civilizing influences, was deceived by
the foreigner into purchasing millions of dollars' worth of
machinery, including steam-ploughs, that proved utterly
useless for cultivation in Egypt. As late as the year 1879,
when I left Egypt, there was much of it scattered along the
banks of the river, fast becoming unfit for use anywhere.
It can be said of these transactions that they are evidences
of the over-confidence of Ismail in the Western man, who
often practised deception to gratify his own cupidity.

Unfortunately these enormous plantations were under the
ban of custom, which all the power of the Khedive could
not effectually change, and they did not yield so abundantly
as the soil and climate promised; though at his fall he had
gradually led his people to the use of new implements, and
agriculture on these estates was assuming the air of European
prosperity. Accustomed to wheat, barley, lentils, and
other ancient Egyptian productions, Egyptian crops were
comparatively abundant, and the old plough of the time of
Joseph answered tolerably well. In crops of more recent
introduction, like maize, rice, cotton, sugar-cane, and
indigo, an entire change became necessary. In looking at
their rich soil the fellahs were afraid to lose some of it,

149

unless they sowed everything broadcast as they did wheat.
They could not be persuaded to give the plant more room
to grow, and to follow the American system, where the
yield is so abundant. They would only depart from the
time-honored practice to a degree in the cultivation of cane
and cotton. Some of their crops, like the cane, have not
covered expenses; and it is said that the bondholders who
now have the estates of the Khedive find it difficult to
fight old traditions and the unwieldy mass of the customs
and habits among the fellaheen, and that they too are
taking a step backward. By continuing the wise system of
irrigation commenced by Ismail, and the employment of
experienced American planters to change the present
system to that which will cause the soil to yield its full
capacity; by a judicious expenditure for suitable implements
for the culture of cotton, corn, and sugar-cane, with
such a perfect climate, free from frost, returns should be
obtained greater than those of any other country. The
great Ibrahim Canal, which Ismail hoped to finish, with its
immense dikes and basins, was incomplete at his fall. It
does not furnish the necessary volume of alluvial soil, and
in consequence does great injury to much of the lands by
its injudicious use. After the water of the Nile has settled
it produces an infiltration, there being a destructive saline
property in the soil, which is thus made to come to the
surface. It has also been the custom to use as manure the
débris of the ancient ruins, which is filled with nitre. This
mistaken policy has done considerable injury to the lands.
Some of my acquaintances, as there was no rotation in
crops as in other countries, used phosphates and imported
fertilizers. They have in this way furnished their
rich soil with an element that seemed wanting; and this
has been particularly beneficial in the cultivation of cane
and cotton, so exhaustive to all lands.

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CHAPTER XIII.
THEBES.

A glance at ancient Egypt—Israelitish bondage—The tremendous gap in
Egyptian history—Reign of Queen Hatasou—Victories and magnificence
of Thothmes III.—Rameses II. the Greek Sesostris—The temples of
Karnak and Luxor of Thebes—Scenes and descriptions on their walls
—Painting and sculpture on the walls of the tombs—The “Book of the
Dead”—The religion of old Egypt—Perfect record of life, political,
religious, and social, inscribed on the monuments—The ruins of Thebes
unsurpassed for stupendous grandeur.

HAVING spoken at some length of the Egypt of to-day,
I cannot refrain from devoting a chapter to the magnificent
and mysterious Egypt of the past, whose monuments tell
us such a fascinating story. To-day a football for the more
powerful peoples of the world, Egypt was then one of the
mightiest of nations, and stood foremost in political status,
in wisdom, and in the arts. This supremacy Egypt held
for a much longer period than has been vouchsafed to any
other nation.

A period of the greatest interest in Egyptian history is
that of the residence of the Israelites. The first authentic
record of the coming of the Semitic race into Egypt is
found on the monuments of the twelfth dynasty. At
Beni-Hassan, not far above Cairo, there is pictured in a
tomb a Semitic chief by the name of Abasha, with all his
family and attendants presenting gifts on his arrival. For
a long time it was thought that this was Jacob and his
party, who had come on the invitation of the patriarch
Joseph. It is now believed the chief mentioned may have
had the same inducements as those detailed in the case of

Thotmes II.

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Abraham and Sarah (Gen. 12: 10), whose sojourn in Egypt
is the earliest mentioned in the Sacred Book. It was after
this, during the fourteenth dynasty, that Egypt was invaded
by the hyksos or shepherd kings, the government
overturned, the temples pillaged, and a grievous yoke imposed
upon the people. The latter fact is evidenced by
the perfect silence which reigned for a long series of years.
Another era of prosperity dawned, and the monuments of
the seventeenth dynasty show a high state of civilization.
The invaders had become enlightened by contact with the
conquered, and the seat of empire was established at Tanis.
The opinion is well founded that it was under Apepi, one
of the late kings of this dynasty, that the patriarch Joseph
came to Egypt, and being, like the king, Semitic, there was
a natural reason in this fact of his having been the minister
of that Pharaoh. Amosis, a descendant of the early
Pharaohs, who had a lodgment at Thebes, suddenly burst
upon the hyksos king, and in a short and bloody war conquered
him. The greater portion of the vanquished people
fled into Asia, and are thought to be what was known as
the Philistine nation, who subsequently formed an alliance
with the Hittites and were in constant war with the Egyptians.

There followed, in the eighteenth dynasty, many powerful
kings, who made Egypt more prosperous than ever, and
achieved for her a great influence at home and abroad,
which culminated in the reign of Thothmes III. For fifteen
years this king was directed by his sister Hatasou as regent,
though this was really a usurpation, as she had played the
same rôle with her brother Thothmes II., and was virtually
queen at that time. She was ambitious, and carried her
banner into Asia. She chained nations to her car, while in
peace she was a great constructor, building magnificent
temples and the two beautiful obelisks at Karnak. Brugsch
Bey says she never hesitated to sacrifice life, even that of
her brother, whose early death is attributed to her, to

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gratify her lust of power. Though she may have sacrificed
affection and decency to attain her ends, the history of her
reign places her in the list of the greatest of Pharaohs.

She had her portrait engraved on monuments and temples
crowned and dressed as a king, in man's apparel, with the
waving “Plumes of Ammon,” and designated as “the son
of the Sun” and as “the god of kings.” Then, calling
herself “lady” and “the beloved of Ammon,” she would
throw aside her male attire and glitter in the habiliments of
a queen. Her act in effacing the name of the previous king
from the monuments constructed by him met with its
reward, for after elevating her brother, Thothmes III., from
her “footstool” to rule with her on the throne, she soon
disappeared from view, and her name was erased from all
the splendid temples and palaces which her munificence had
constructed, save one, the beautiful obelisk now standing in
the temple of Karnak. If the splendor of a reign, its great
naval and military conquests, the extent of country subjugated,
and the vast public works which under a wise statesmanship
added such brilliancy to Egypt are considered,
then Thothmes III. was undoubtedly one of the greatest
men of whom history gives us record, though in the study
of his statues there is very little suggestion that he was a
monarch of nerve and resolution, capable of prosecuting
great and successful wars. The whole expression of the
beardless face is that of extreme refinement and effeminacy,
and does not portray the magnificent tyrant who shook
Asia to its centre and planted his flag wherever there was a
dominion to conquer.

Passing many ruins renowned in the history of this country,
I shall linger at some of the remarkable places, it being
impossible to give more than a slight glimpse of these
famous cities. We are now at Thebes, the No of Nahum,
the wonderful remains of which Homer sang, the Tapé of
the ancients, which modern discovery tells us had been a
populous city for centuries, but of no political importance

Head of Queen Hatason.

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until long after the greater era of the Pyramids. About
the eleventh dynasty it showed growing evidences of importance,
Memphis having been before that the seat of
empire, of luxury, and of power. It was through an epoch
of gloom and darkness that Thebes emerged into importance
and attained its greatest splendor during the twelfth
dynasty, one of the brightest epochs of ancient history.
Mariette Bey makes this the commencement of the Middle
Empire, and tells us that after the sixth dynasty there was
a period of 436 years during which the monuments of
Egypt were almost entirely silent, and asks: “Was it possible
that an invasion plunged Egypt into such profound
darkness after the ‘splendid era’ of the Pyramids? Or
was it a crisis of weakness, by which the life of nations, like
that of man, is sometimes crossed? Maybe, again, it is our
ignorance of the capitals of the four missing dynasties
which are yet to be found and will unfold the mystery.”
There is no era in the history of the world more worthy of
serious attention than this epoch so graphically noted by
Mariette Bey: “It is certain that for many centuries before
this Egypt appears as a highly enlightened people, while
the rest of the world was in utter darkness and barbarism,
and the most illustrious nations that lately played so distinguished
a part in the affairs of the world were in a savage
state. Before the sixth dynasty, Memphis, then in her
glory, was a powerful monarchy, supported by a formidable
organization of functionaries and employés who already
controlled the destiny of Egypt.” Going back in the history
of time almost to the biblical date of the origin of
man, the civilization of Egypt is mature. At this time the
Great Pyramids were made impervious to rains or to floods,
and the sands of the desert had hermetically sealed the
rocky tombs on the banks of the Nile. Was it then that
the wisdom of the past was placed in them, to secure it
against not only the encroachments of time, but the fearful
events of the deluge? As already stated, it is believed

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that in this era of darkness, after the sixth dynasty, there
is not the slightest evidence, either on papyrus, tomb, or
monument, to show that a single human being existed in
Egypt. It is very well known that the Pyramids and the
monuments coeval with them are the oldest works of man
existing on the earth, and that if man had not destroyed
them, climate and time would have done it, had they been
located in other parts of the world. In Egypt they have
defied the touch of time as well as the ravages of conquest.
Besides the precautions taken by the wise builders to
preserve them, the climate has aided to save them from
destruction.

The Nile divides Thebes. On the east are the remains
of the grand temples of Karnak and Luxor, around which
the dense population lived; on the other side are temples
and palaces, and behind these is the immense Necropolis,
where repose the dead of the city, and, in separate tombs,
the mummies of the kings and queens. Riding over the
waving green on the west side, two grand objects salute
you, gigantic statues of stone sixty feet high. The wisdom
of the world for ages has gazed in admiration upon them,
one of them being Memnon's statue, which at sunrise is
said to have emitted vocal sounds. It was broken by an
earthquake A.D. 27, and repaired by the Romans. Though
the features of both are defaced, still they are very attractive.
Erected by Amenoph III. of the twelfth dynasty,
they represent him, and all that is left of eighteen similar
statues forming an avenue leading to his palace; the rest,
with the palace, have disappeared; the débris is covered
with the soil of the Nile, and golden grain marks the spot
where they once stood. A short distance back is the
entrance, between two high statues, into the immense ruins
of the temple of Memnonium. They sit in Egyptian repose,
with their hands upon their knees, as though weighed
down with mighty thought. Overwhelmed by the broken
columns, statues, and fragments heaped around you, climbing

Bust of Thothmes III.

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and dodging under and over them, you find a passage
difficult, but as your interest increases you feel compensated
for your labor. Every vestige, with its hidden language
engraved upon it, tells of bygone customs, habits,
and religion. Inscriptions over massive doors point to
their enormous libraries. Herodotus says no people stored
their records and recollections as they did. They cultivated
not only the mysteries of their profound and philosophical
religion, but their literature was founded upon the
highest scientific knowledge, and furnished the Alexandrian
library with 400,000 rolls of papyrus and 20,000
books of Hermes. Wandering to the remains of the palace
of Rameses II., like everybody else I climbed with no little
risk into what is called the harem of that celebrated Pharaoh,
to watch his game of chess with a beautiful young
woman, one arm around a second, while chucking a third
pretty creature under the chin. It is interesting, while
wandering among these ruins, to find evidence that this
great statesman and warrior forgot the cares of state in
refined intercourse with fair women, and that 3000 years
ago he was so charmed with their sweet allurements that he
had this beautiful scene deeply engraved upon the massive
walls of this palace, for future ages to look upon and admire
as a memorial of his kingly gallantry. There is no object
that so arrests the attention of all who visit Egypt as the
remains of the grand statue of this king. Composed of
black granite, it was brought 300 miles down the Nile, from
where it was quarried, and placed in front of this palace.
It weighs nine hundred tons, is twenty-three feet between
the shoulders, and its foot is eleven feet long. Further to
realize its magnitude, it will be recollected that the obelisk
brought from Egypt weighs only 200 tons, and yet it
required the most skilful engineers of the time to remove it
from Alexandria to New York and put it on its pedestal in
Central Park. Though immense in size, probably the largest
sculpture in the world, artists have said this statue is

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faultless in proportions. Rameses II., the Pharaoh whom
this idol represents (believed to be the Sesostris of the
Greek), was a high priest, thought himself divine, was worshipped
while living, and was deified after death. As
grand in size as it is fine in workmanship, the idol is broken
in its middle, and the body with its gigantic head lies prone
upon the ground, “with all its majesty seated on its brow.”
“The God of truth has executed judgment upon all the
gods of Egypt.” Strange to say, during the last year the
mummies of thirty-nine kings, queens, and other dignitaries
have been discovered, in a cave where they were hidden
thousands of years ago to prevent desecration by an invader.
They had been previously taken out of their own
gorgeous tombs, which were constructed by themselves before
their death 3500 years ago for their sepulchres.

Among these kings are those famous and mighty Pharaohs,
Hatasou the illustrious queen, Thothmes III., Seti I.,
and Rameses II. Most great Egyptologists, Christians and
infidels, say that if such a man as Moses existed, and the
events followed as related in the Old Testament, it must
have been during the reigns of Rameses II. and Menephthah,
his thirteenth son; and that Rameses must be the
Pharaoh to whom the Bible refers as not “knowing Joseph
the patriarch,” and the one who put the Israelites in
bondage.

Joel prophesied the destruction of Thebes when it was in
its greatest splendor, and he was followed by Isaiah and
Ezekiel. I propose now to refer particularly to one of the
most beautiful passages of Isaiah, which, though evidently
referring to a king in his own day, is applicable to Rameses
II. The mummy of Rameses, one of the greatest of kings,
“who did not know Joseph,” that was brought down to the
grave, the bottomless pit, is one of those lately discovered,
and is now an inmate of the Boulac Museum, near
Cairo, for the curious to wonder at and the learned to
study. History tells us that he conquered a large portion of

The Memnon Colossi, Thebes.

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Asia, and that he constructed more of the gigantic monuments
of which we now see the ruins than any other of
those wonderful Pharaohs. The prophecy says: “They
that see thee shall narrowly look upon thee, and consider
thee, saying, Is this the man that made the earth to tremble,
and that did shake kingdoms; that made the world as
a wilderness, and destroyed the cities thereof; that opened
not the house of his prisoners? … But thou art cast
out of thy grave like an abominable branch, and as the
raiment of those that are slain, thrust through with a
sword, that go down to the stones of the pit; as a carcass
trodden under feet.” The multitude of No has been for
centuries as silent as the stillness of the desert which surrounds
her; the land is still “the basest of kingdoms.”
How visible and unerring seems the fulfilment of this
prophecy!

You are reminded not only that he was the greatest constructor
of massive buildings, extending even to the remotest
boundary of Egypt, but that he was also a great propagator
of the human race, in being the father of no less than
one hundred and eighty-nine children. This alone should
make him memorable in the history of the world. Turning
from this agreeable episode, it is difficult to realize that
you are wandering in the midst of stupendous works,
dating many thousands of years back, of massive architecture
and of elaborate ornament. It is marvellous that, with
a knowledge of every mechanical art, these people should
always have built in the same unchanging conventional
manner during such an immense period of time. Their
religion, too, like their temples, was shadowed by a
gloomy philosophy; their studies, in minutest details, were
bound by irrevocable laws, and, what is still a great mystery
to scholars, accompanied by loathsome and incomprehensible
superstitions. Such great statesmen, warriors, and
constructors as Thothmes III. and Rameses II. felt honored
and sanctified as high priests of this religion, and enforced

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forced implicit obedience to the worship of stony symbols
and the adoration of the crocodile, the vilest of reptiles.
Queen and princesses in their palaces, holding on high the
sistrum and dressed in gorgeous array, aided these renowned
kings in performing the ceremonies of their extraordinary
religion. Having written of these grand old Pharaohs,
“who made the earth to tremble and did shake kingdoms,”
it is pleasant to turn now and then to the lights and shades
of domestic life among the people, admirably and graphically
pictured, and, curiously enough, mostly found in their
tombs, all other evidences of their existence having passed
away. Here are seen husband and wife embracing each
other in a loving manner among agreeable rural scenes of
grain and fruit trees. Young men and pretty maidens
make love as to-day, and with the music of the harp enjoy
the dance together. Every kind of industry is represented,
much of it like that of the present day—mechanics making
indescribable things for palaces and temples, and shoemakers
hammering away at their lasts. It is not uncommon
to find the head of a grand family and his interesting
spouse doing the honors of a rich entertainment, and ladies
seated en grande tenue with the lotus-flower in their delicate
hands, or presenting it to their companions to inhale its
precious perfume and mysterious power. We can fancy
them gossiping of dress and jewelry or exhibiting their
beautiful babies for the admiration of their visitors. It is
easy to imagine one's self (so perfectly are things pictured)
being present at and a participant in the active scene of
four thousand years ago. There are representations of the
elaborate cuisine, with servants washing and stewing fruit,
making wine, and kneading bread with the naked feet. In
his chariot a great personage is seen coming to the banquet,
while men and women divert him with pleasant conversation.
The feast prepared, the wine flows, and all is enjoyment.
When mirth and joy are at their height, a stiff
stark mummy, the former representative of the household,

Head of Rameses II., the Pharaoh who persecuted the Israelites.

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is brought in. These most religious of all peoples were on
all occasions reminded that in life they were in the midst
of death, that the living should regulate their conduct for a
future state; and still more to show his guests how thin is
the partition between time and eternity, there was already
engraved on the walls of his tomb, ordered by himself, a
representation of the funeral procession of the giver of the
entertainment, in anticipation of what the ceremony and
mourning would be after death. Wife and daughter in the
agony of grief are standing near the bier, preceded by a
priest in grand ceremony, the cortege followed by women
with dishevelled hair, dusted heads, and faces distorted in
the utterance of fearful cries. Notwithstanding that the
mummy is made to act a part so significant, it often
occurred that the guests became drunk enough to be carried
home on the shoulders of their servants, and the
women are depicted in like condition with the men. In
these tombs every phase of their extraordinary religion is
elaborately engraved upon the sarcophagi or written upon
papyrus in the form of the voluminous book of the dead
which is deposited with the mummy. The Egyptians believed
in the immortality of the soul, in the resurrection
of the dead, and in future rewards and punishments. The
ablest thinkers in studying this religion give powerful reasons
for the opinion that all the evidences point to the conclusion
that the people believed originally in one God—a
belief derived, it is thought, from an earlier revelation. It
is evident that this religion, which is philosophical, was in
the course of time very much elevated, but mystical; at
first pure and simple, but eventually wonderfully complicated.
This was the religion of the priesthood, but there
was another for the people. Gross and tangible, it was
purely symbolical, representing the numerous attributes of
a supreme being. Losing sight of the grand impersonal
idea, the faith of the multitude became nothing more than
the worship of stocks and stones and the deification of the

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symbol itself, and ended in the setting up of a god for
every village and town and for every day and year. At an
early era, when in her splendor, Egypt accepted a magnificent
religion, embodying most of her theories of the past,
and one which was thought to be most suitable to all
classes. It appealed to the vulgar mind, and enabled the
priesthood to involve it in deeper mysticism and more
beautiful symbolisms. They adopted the trinity of Osiris,
Isis, and Horus in the place of a former universal God.
These new gods overshadowed and controlled all the innumerable
minor deities. They have engraved Osiris (“The
Book of the Dead” explains the entire scheme) sitting in
judgment in the other world; “Amente,” the altar of sacrifice
is in front of him, the soul of the dead is in his presence,
after passing the ordeal of forty-two assessors in Hades.
Immediately in front are the scales of justice, resting on
the shoulders of a god, with an ape, the emblem of equilibrium,
on the top of the balance. The four genii of the
dead, standing on a lotus-flower, guard the interest of the
soul. The beautiful and ever-loving goddesses, Isis and
Nephthys, are near to intercede for poor humanity. Horus,
the saviour, while pleading with Osiris, places the soul in
the balance, after it has passed through purgatory, a
feather, representing truth and justice, in one scale, and its
evil deeds in the other. The god Anubis dictates the account
to Thoth, the god of letters, who records the weight
upon his tablet. The great judge Osiris declares the sentence,
and the officers of punishment then execute the fiat.

In a country like Egypt, where the climate and soil are
so fitted for the habitation of man, the imagination in
picturing a heaven naturally embodied the notion as thus
expressed by a learned Egyptian: “A sort of celestial
Egypt, with a celestial Nile and its accompaniments, which
was entered, in ascending from Hades, through a gate
called Ammah, the whole being symbolized by a female
with her arms above her head, swimming in celestial

Seti I. Worshipping Osiris, Isis, and Horus.

161

space.” Everywhere there are celestial fields demonstrating
work and progress. Souls recline amid beautiful rural
scenes, by the side of cool, limpid, and shady streams, and
their senses are enchanted with sweet song and delicious
music. It was with the familiar objects of their earthly life
that their souls seem delighted in Paradise. This “Book
of the Dead,” or, as it is sometimes called, the Egyptian
Bible, not only portrays their sensuous heaven, but the
infernal region is also painted in lurid colors and deeply
engraved upon their tombs, which display a hideous series
of no less than fourteen abodes. The god Ra is often seen
lighting up the infernal fires within these abodes, and the
hippopotamus god, who had been at the judgment of the
souls in the regions above, is here seen in the distance,
with his great mouth open, waiting his share of the “lost,”
and ready to swallow the shades of the damned. The
scenes throughout this terrible place become painfully exciting.
Numerous devils, aided by fierce-looking lions,
called “roaring monsters,” are seen thrusting with great
activity bad Egyptians into a terrible place described as the
“bottomless pit.” Osiris, the great judge, and Horus, the
avenger as well as the saviour, are seen here holding serpents.
These creatures carry the three-pronged fork, vomit
fire upon pinioned criminals, and direct the use of instruments
of torture. They are further engaged in tormenting
souls in still deeper and more agonizing pits beneath. The
ape who figured above is here a “minister of vengeance.”
There he was seated on the balance; now he guards the
infernal boundaries like the triple-headed Cerberus of the
Greeks. Mariette Bey and many other Egyptologists think
they make out from the monuments the belief of a second
death to the condemned, which was annihilation.

I entered the great Propylon of the temple of Karnak,
fronting the Nile. River mud is now thrown around a
portion of it, and this with the water in time of overflow is
loosening the foundations of the mighty structure. Dean

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Stanley wrote of this temple: “It is the most magnificent
building ever erected by man for the worship of the Most
High.” Climbing a colonnade near the entrance, standing
on its summit, which overlooks the stupendous pile, and
taking within the vision the extensive valleys on both sides
of the river, the hills circling back in the distance, which
gives the space for the great city of Thebes, I tried to scan
its limits, where once stood its hundred gates and gorgeous
palaces, known to have been between this temple and the
Mokattum hills. On the east and south lived the dense
population, and here was situated the beautiful “lake of
the dead.” The remains of crumbling sphinxes line the
avenue on the south, two miles in length, which is the
only one left of ten which set out from this temple and
led to the great temple of Luxor and to other grand
objects that once stood within this extensive valley, over
which the gorgeous processions of kings and priests were
accustomed to march into the temple. Looking across the
river to the temples and palaces on the other side, which
stand abruptly against the Libyan hills, are seen in solitude
the two great statues of Memnon, in the centre of the wide
and cultivated plain. In front and rear of them, though
the space was once filled with palaces, there is not now even
débris to mark the spot. Yet, with all its utter ruin, it is a
wondrous scene. But your amazement increases as you
call to mind the magnificent avenues which led from the
temples of Karnak and Luxor to those on the other side.
In the place of palaces and fairy-like gardens that once
encircled these hills and temples, nothing but fearful
deserts greet the eye. But for a few stray Arabs and
camels, and now and then a green spot, eternal silence
would reign here. Surrounded by its palm-groves and
flowery bowers, this city stood in the focus of commerce to
which Egypt, Ethiopia, and Asia paid tribute. The great
caravans with the riches of the East came hither as to the
centre of the world's wealth. At certain periods the whole

Court in the Temple of Ramesis III.

163

population of Egypt flocked hither for secular and religious
purposes, and the Nile floated its endless shipping to its
shores. There was no spot on earth where there was so
busy a scene. It was here for centuries that Egypt concentrated
her greatest political and sacerdotal power, and
where the voluptuous rites of Isis and Ammon Ré were
celebrated in such splendor. The great hall of the temple
beneath, with its mighty columns and massive walls richly
sculptured and painted, though now broken and defaced, is
yet so amazing that no eloquence can portray its magnitude
and beauty. Engraved upon its walls is the history of the
wars, conquests, and great civil administration of Thothmes
III. and Rameses II. On the south wall is what has
been thought to be a scene in the history of King Shishak,
who captured Jerusalem and brought to Egypt the vessels
of the holy temple. He is threatening a number of prisoners
standing bound before him, and among them is supposed
to be Jehudah-Melek, the King of the Jews. The
Pharaoh is in his chariot, larger than life, holding a drawn
sword of enormous size, and from the savage look he gives
his captives one imagines him about to cut off the heads of
the large cavalcade with his own hand.

In observing the noble faces of these prisoners and their
intellectual development, so much superior to any other
faces engraved upon the monuments, it seemed to me that
in comparing them with the highest Israelitish type of this
day, a strong resemblance is discernible. There is one
object, as interesting as any in Egypt, which stands among
the accumulated fragments, pointing far above all others,
even in this wonderful structure. It is the loftiest, best
engraved, and most gracefully formed of any obelisk in the
world. It was erected by Hatasou, the famous queen of
antiquity, as an offering of filial love, and time has dealt
with it gently as a record of woman's devotion. How
many nations has it seen rise and crumble! And yet there
it stands, it is to be hoped forever. May no sacrilegious

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hand ever attempt to despoil Egypt of this, one of her most
sacred altars. While standing here, I tried to recall some
of the images of the past, to fill these vast halls with the
assembled wisdom of renowned kings and chiefs coming to
deliberate for the nation, and to conjure up the conclave of
that great priesthood assembling for sacerdotal ceremony;
but the mind, awed by the immensity of the scene, fails
even to grasp its shadow. Yet it is known that “the same
emotions, passions, and fears of our common humanity once
held high revel there,” and upon these temples, palaces,
and tombs much of their laws, religion, and history is
written, though it may be but a slight evidence of a departed
people. I have often visited these saddened ruins
of mighty Thebes, and have always left them with regret,
in spite of the fact that “a single column often marks the
spot of palaces once the abode of enlightened man, and in
equal desolation temples of God whose shrines no longer
burn.”

Egyptian Pharaoh in a War-Chariot, Warrior, and Horses

165

CHAPTER XIV.
THE OVERTHROW OF ISMAIL.

The earlier difficulties of Ismail Pacha—Protest of the Sultan against the
right of Egypt to negotiate loans—How the Sublime Porte was bought
over—The Khedive receives a firman confirming the succession in his
own line—Arrival of Mr. Cave in Egypt to investigate the finances—
Mr. Cave reports their hopeless condition—Interest of $25,500,000 to be
paid on the debt out of a revenue of $45,500,000—The Moukābăla—By
advice of the English consul, England and France are asked to send
two comptrollers of the debt—Arrival of Messrs. Goschen and Joubert—
Ismail is forsaken by his friends throughout Europe—Fate of Sadik
Pacha—The Khedive is sued in the International Court—Arrival of vast
numbers of Englishmen to fatten on the Khedive—Native clerks all discharged
from the administration—Civil and military officials suffer from
non-payment of arrears—Ismail yields up his absolute power and becomes
a constitutional prince—He gives up his private estate for the
good of Egypt—First beginnings of a national party—Nubar Pacha and
his ministry driven from power—Ismail interferes to prevent bloodshed
—He is deprived of all power in his own cabinet—He boldly dismisses
the foreigners and resumes power—A life-and-death struggle—Ismail is
vanquished and deposed by a firman of the Sultan.

IN order that the causes may be known which led to
the abdication of Khedive Ismail and the disasters which
accompanied his downfall, it is necessary to give a brief
account of the financial troubles which were the occasion of
it. To begin, it is simply necessary to state that from the
published official record it appeared that these English and
French bondholders, of whom so much has been said, had
loaned to Egypt over $450,000,000, for which they had
received her bonds. Upon investigation it was found that
less than $225,000,000, under any pretence, was ever
received or could be properly charged to her. It further
appeared that out of this last amount supposed to have

166

been borrowed, there had never been discovered more than
$80,000,000, the amount expended in the construction of
the Suez Canal, and it is difficult to say how much of the
loan ($40,000,000) contracted by Saïd Pacha, which he left
as a legacy to Ismail, his successor, was ever expended in
the public improvement of Egypt, or that she had ever
received any benefit from it. The fact is unquestioned,
that all the enormous public improvements at this time
were paid for alone from the revenues of the country. It
must be also understood that Ismail alone was the state,
and had so mixed up his private with the public transactions
that it is doubtful whether an earnest attempt was
ever made to separate them. Every dollar was otherwise
disposed of, as already stated. The greater part went to
pay interest on existing loans. When Ismail Pacha abdicated.
the debt of Egypt and his own personal debt stood
at about $500,000,000. This huge liability was the sum
total of eight loans, including that of Saïd and two on what
is called the Daira, the private estate of the Khedive,
together with the interest which had accumulated from
1862, the time of the first loan, to 1878, when the last loan
was effected.

Before these loans were made it was known that Egypt
was too poor to liquidate them. But with prospective
usury so overwhelming, the money-lenders of Europe were
willing to take the chances, believing that their great governments
would make so insignificant a power as Egypt pay
up. Several of these loans were effected in the face of the
solemn protest of the Turkish Government, which declared
that the Khedive had no legal right to bind the revenues of
Egypt, and that by doing so without its sanction the Khedive
was invading the Porte's authority. Subsequently,
the bondholders, eager to drive their talons still deeper into
the vitals of Egypt and impose another heavy loan on the
overburdened country, mollified the scruples of the Sultan
by sending the Grand Vizier a present of a quarter of a

Ruined Avenue of Sphinxes.

167

million dollars. A very large amount being required to
meet the increasing interest and pay that already due, the
Khedive was completely in their power and compelled to
do their bidding. In order to force on him their surplus
money at usurious rates, and to comply at the same time
with the forms of law and secure their own creatures to
manage their finances, the cunning speculators arranged it
so as to dazzle the Sublime Porte with the small backsheesh
of $4,500,000—a reminder of the admiration they entertained
for the “unspeakable Turk.” On the strength of
this the Khedive received authority in 1873 to contract any
loan or loans he pleased, and in addition to this a firman
secured the direct right of descent in his own family.

This subtle stroke of the usurers, the consummation of
their design, had necessarily to be concealed; and in order
to do so the world had to be persuaded it was entirely a
matter of state policy that such an enormous amount of
money should be given to the Sultan. The traditional
idea, so lovingly nurtured by the rulers of Egypt, of changing
the Mahometan law so as to have the succession in
their own family, and especially in that of the eldest son,
was a happy thought, and was at the same time pleasing to
the Khedive, who no doubt felt an ambition one day to be
a king. As a matter of course he fell into the trap,
thought great deference was being paid him, and became a
party to the scheme. There were other privileges granted,
but the jewel in the casket was a short, pregnant paragraph,
of little apparent importance at that time, but intended,
if circumstances required it, for deadly use in the
future to subserve the plans of the bondholders. This
embodied the power to make “conventions for all relations
which concerned foreigners, whenever the Khedive may
think it necessary.” When the announcement was made
that the succession had been changed, the Khedive was
delighted to receive congratulations upon the auspicious
event, and few who visited him suspected at the time how

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soon the firman was destined to turn into a curse that
should eat into his very heart. I confess to having been
innocent of it when seeing his radiant smile, as he touched
his head and heart with the document in his hand, according
to Mahometan fashion, and kissed it as a dutiful vassal
should. This now famous backsheesh, it will be eventually
seen, bound him hand and foot, and enabled the bondholders
at the proper time to place foreign dictators over him.
These so shaped their administrative policy as to compel
his abdication when it suited their purpose. Nor were the
bondholders alone in this scheme. It was part of the
policy of that wonderful man who then directed the destinies
of England, and who never for an instant lost sight
of a secure route to the Indies. These happy events threw
temporary brilliancy around the Khedive's throne at the
very moment when Fate was ironically pointing her remorseless
finger at his empty treasury.

His many creditors at home and abroad beset the Khedive
with complaints of the maladministration of Sadik, his
minister, while the newspapers were filled with figures to
prove their statements. They urged an investigation
which should lead to reform and lessen the ruinous interest
which was eating up the revenues of the country. Upon
the advice of the English consul, Ismail invited Mr. Cave,
a distinguished English official, to come to Egypt for the
purpose of making such an investigation. The Khedive
was no doubt sincere in this request, being anxious that
Europe should know the real condition of his finances and
his resources, so that public opinion should force a refunding
of the debt at a lower rate of interest. Mr. Cave found
Egyptian finances a tangled web. Though deceived, as he
thought, by Sadik Pacha, the Egyptian minister, yet he
discovered enough to satisfy himself that worse than corrupt
practices were rife. There is no evidence to connect
the Khedive with the false returns and other frauds discovered
by Mr. Cave. Of these he was necessarily ignorant,

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otherwise he would never have let an Englishman of known
ability and character investigate frauds so palpable, of
which any sanction on his part would justly consign him to
eternal infamy. The mission ended without probing to the
bottom the dark ways of the Mofétish (Sadik Pacha).
They were too hidden for honest investigation to unearth,
and Mr. Cave departed without having reached any definite
conclusion in the premises. Enough was, however, learned
by the Khedive to satisfy him that his trusted minister was
administering his office badly, and that there was, to say
the least, frightful disorder and confusion in his finance department.
But Sadik was his life-long friend, and Ismail
wished to move cautiously. No doubt Mr. Cave did all in
his power to unravel the mystery, and did much toward
clearing up the facts; but if he had shown more regard for
Egypt and recommended the reduction of the interest,
when he became aware that its payment was crushing out
the life of the country, he would have had the gratitude of
all Egypt. In his report he gives the following facts:
“That there was $90,000,000 floating debt incurred in
paying interest, which was being renewed at the ruinous
rate of 25 per cent per annum; that the great loan of 1873,
at the time the Sultan was bribed, swallowed up every
resource, so that three years' taxes were paid in two; that
there was nothing to show for all the indebtedness which,
while paying an interest of from 12 to 26 per cent per
annum, was eating up 70 per cent per annum of the gross
proceeds of the revenue.” Poor Egypt was in the grasp of
the Shylocks of England and France. But when great
nations were controlled by the money power, how could it
be expected that individuals should do justice? That he
(the Khedive) should be pressed beyond endurance was a
natural consequence. How could it be otherwise, when
compelled to pay, according to Mr. Cave, “an annual interest
of $25,500,000 out of a revenue of $45,500,000”?

Like all Eastern monarchs, ready for anything to relieve

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the present, the Khedive adopted a scheme in 1872, which
undoubtedly originated in the prolific brain of the Mofétish
(Sadik Pacha), and was called the Moukabala. In this
“the landowner was allowed to redeem forever one half of
his rent at once, or by certain instalments.” I recollect the
feeling of uncertainty and foreboding which filled the minds
of all classes when this thinly disguised attempt at robbery
was first adopted. It reflected seriously upon both Ismail
and Sadik. Knowing the methods of the minister, the poor
fellah, though he dreaded the result, was bound to avail
himself of it. He was impotent, and so accepted it without
a murmur. Fearing the demand of the creditors, the
minister thought it a good Eastern expedient for temporary
relief. No doubt he expected it would be an easy matter
in the future, when pressure came, to repudiate the contract
as a public necessity and levy new taxes. Though he
did not live to witness the fruition of his infamous design,
the bondholders connived at its consummation in order to
reap the benefit. They are responsible, if not for its proposal,
at least for its iniquitous result. Temporary expedients
failing, there being no prospect of the payment of
interest as it became due, and clamor following the Khedive
even into his palace, it was proposed that another embassy
of his ardent friends “who would hold the balance evenly
adjusted,” should come to Egypt at his invitation. This
was the advice of the official who in private had gently
hinted its necessity, the English Consul-General.

In response to the invitation, “the devoted friends of the
Khedive,” Mr. Goschen, M.P., and Monsieur Joubert, a
Frenchman and a distinguished financier, both agents of the
bondholders, arrived at Cairo in October, 1876. Up to this
time newspaper correspondents and book-writers had
lauded the Khedive and severely criticised the speculators
who had inveigled him into their grasp, and whose exactions
were mercilessly plundering the unfortunate fellah.
It was well known that not more than half the amount represented

171

by the loans was ever received by Egypt, while
they were exacting interest upon the whole amount named.
All the money of the Khedive was gone; the bottom of
the caisse had dropped out, and he had not a dollar to pay
even his private debts. The consequence was that his
friends deserted him, and an indignant cry was heard from
a disinterested press. This had its effect, and though the
unfortunate Khedive was doing his best to meet his engagements,
he was denounced as a fraudulent borrower and a
monster, while pathetic appeals besieged the governments
of England and France to come to the rescue of the poor
ill-used creditors of Egypt. These agents (Goschen and
Joubert) had no sooner entered upon the theatre of action
than they commenced with the Khedive a system of exaction.
One of the first demands of Mr. Goschen was the
dismissal of the Egyptian minister of finance, who had
shown a decided opposition to the new arrangement, and
with whom the Englishman had from the first declined all
intercourse. The statement given to the public at the time
was that the Khedive refused to accede to the demand, and
stated as a reason that Sadik was the wealthiest subject in
Egypt, was trusted by the religious element, and consequently
had a hold upon the masses; that he also possessed
all the secrets of Ismail's personal and official life, and was
capable of doing serious damage to the state; that he
could, if turned loose upon the people, destroy him and his
dynasty. But his financial advisers were inexorable; they
cared nothing for him or his dynasty. The Khedive,
though distressed, felt that a great necessity was upon him.
He waited until his plans were ripe. Meanwhile the
Mofétish was tried by a secret council for conspiracy
against the Khedive, and condemned to perpetual exile in
Upper Africa. This simply meant certain death. The
minister was to all appearance ignorant of his fate. The
Khedive invited him out to drive—a not unusual thing. At
a place near the Nile where his carriage stopped, a guard,

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posted for the purpose, seized the Mofétish before he could
alight. Since that time no human being connected with him
has ever seen him, and though a steamer was sent up the river
on the next day, with all the forms of having a state prisoner
on board, there was no one in Cairo at the time of this
affair who does not believe that the deposed minister was
consigned to the bottom of the Nile. It is said that his
chief eunuch and clerk shared the same fate. His vast
property was seized by the government, his son torn from
his wife, formerly an inmate of the palace, and the great
numbers of women in his harem were scattered no one
knows whither. His intimates and relations were all dismissed
from office. Thus, as it always is in the East in
such cases, the minister and all connected with him were
disposed of by short methods.
This troublesome official “silenced,” Mr. Goschen at
once presented his financial scheme. This was that two
comptrollers, a Frenchman and an Englishman, together
with commissioners, should be appointed; that there should
be an Anglo-French railway administration, and that the
revenue of the port of Alexandria must be pledged to the
bondholders. All other sources of revenue were already in
the hands of Englishmen. It was at this time that the
cheating the landholders out of their money paid into the
treasury under the Moukabala was mooted again, and the
people were greatly excited, as they fully expected the
calamity in the near future; but for the moment it was
passed over; the bondholders were not quite ready to
commit the infamous outrage, the bastinado had not yet
tutored the beasts of burden to accept it peacefully.

The new foreign officials were no sooner in power than
they ignored the Khedive, who, feeling himself thwarted
in his own government, and believing that the bondholders'
interests were alone cared for, became restless. It will be
recollected that the Khedive had created an international
court, and had even given largely of his private fortune to

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sustain it. Little did he dream that this was another trap
set by his unscrupulous enemies. Unacquainted with
Western law, trusting to the good faith of Europe, he
approved of a clause which virtually deprived him of a
sovereign right, that of exemption from legal process.

Egypt saw her Khedive powerless to prevent levy either
on the state property or on his own, even to the carriage in
which he rode. The people of Cairo were shocked when
they saw this comedy played by the high contracting
parties. Judgments without number were entered against
Ismail.

The growing arrogance of the foreign ministers imposed
on the country provoked the discontent of the masses. As
soon as it became evident that Egypt was to be the prey of
England, an army of office-seeking vultures from every land
where she holds sway descended upon the prostrate victim
to fatten at their leisure on her vitals. France supplied
but few of these birds of prey. Those in power had
already voted themselves $25,000 and $30,000 salaries; the
native clerks were cashiered, penniless, with their salaries
in arrears. To make this outrage still more patent, care
was taken by the comptrollers and the commissioners to
pay themselves and their foreign friends every cent of their
enormous salaries. To add still more to this extraordinary
state of things, the army received no pay. Their pay too
was in arrears. Officers were in rags, their wives and children
clamoring for bread. The fellah groaned as he paid
his last piastre for taxes, and all means were exhausted to
wring more out of him. The burdens of the agricultural
class were so apparent that the Eastern man, accustomed
to scenes of cruelty, stood aghast at the human misery to
which the unfortunate Arab was subjected. Being satisfied
that his people were at the end of their tether (this was in
1875), and feeling a strong desire to ameliorate their condition,
Ismail was prevented from giving his undivided attention
by an unfortunate event. He was suddenly involved

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in a war with his neighbors, the Abyssinians. His motive
and reasons for entering into it, together with the incidents
connected with this war, will be set forth in a later chapter
of this narrative. The war is mentioned now as adding
still more to his financial troubles. The writer of this
work, together with many Americans in the Egyptian service,
being victims of this non-payment policy, can feelingly
appreciate the complaints of the people. Now, if all these
deep-laid schemes to bind the Khedive with invisible threads
had resulted merely in wrong to the individual, it would
not awaken such deep indignation, though it might be condemned
as a cruel visitation on an Eastern potentate who
had struggled hard to elevate his people. The motive of
all this chicanery was that the creditors of Egypt might get
squarely at the naked backs of the fellaheen, the better to
wring the last piastre from them, and to make them pay
into the foreigners' pockets all their hard earnings, even at
the risk of starvation. This constitutes a crime against
humanity which no words can properly stigmatize. This
new conspiracy failed. When the prisoner of the Comanche
Indian is so jaded that he can no longer walk he
is pierced with a lance: so was the despairing Khedive
pricked by his usurping masters. The English and French
governments entered the arena and urged upon the
Khedive an international commission of six foreigners and
the four officials, all in the interests of the bondholders, and
in which no natives were allowed a voice. Ismail Pacha, of
late so often humiliated, felt that he had put forth all his
power to stay the encroachments upon his rights and to
protect those of his people. Though he knew at this time
that his act must lead to serious consequences if not to his
abdication, yet he signed a decree for a commission armed
with full powers, not only to inquire into the revenues and
expenditures, but also into all other important questions in
which Egypt was interested. He simply requested that his
sovereign rights should be guaranteed. This request being

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refused, he abandoned that also. The conclusion was a
radical change in the government. There was no doubt
that great numbers of evils resulting from the bad administration
of laws, the unjust levying of taxes, and other outrages,
were abated. Safeguards were thrown around the
people, and a proper financial administration was aimed at
if not secured, and, finally, a responsible ministry, with
Nubar Pacha as premier, was appointed. This virtually
put the government completely in the power of the new
ministry. In fact, a constitutional government was organized,
and every principle of government established by
Mehemet Ali came to an end. The lands of the Khedive
and his family, amounting in all to about one million acres,
were forced from him by the same process as in other instances,
and were given in absolute title to the government.
The last of the land taken was the private property of the
Khedive, and was at once mortgaged to the Rothschilds for
$42,500,000. It was thought that this enormous sum would
go far to pay the debts of Egypt, but it was at once
absorbed by the bondholders and the swarm of foreign
officials, only a part of it going to pay the floating debt. A
recent writer, quoting from the information furnished the
British Parliament, makes the extraordinary statement that
up to this time there was the prodigious number of 1325
imported office-holders, receiving salaries aggregating
$1,665,000. This was progress with a vengeance! When it
is considered that all this horde replaced the poor Arab and
Copt, who did the duty better for a small sum, it was not
surprising that the latter should add their voices to that of
the army, who had thirty months' pay in arrear and had
already become destitute; that they should all join in supporting
the Notables, who were protesting against misrule,
and that they should finally crystallize into a National party
with their best men as leaders. The people understood
that while the work of the commissioner who pretended to
represent Egypt looked very well on paper, yet they were

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still beasts of burden, while the hundred thousand foreigners
living in Egypt, accumulating fortunes there, were not
taxed a cent for revenue. Improved laws might be a good
thing, but when administered solely in the interests of
those who had seized their country, they did not feel an
abiding faith in them. The new ministry was in hostility
to the Khedive, and disliked him. It had really begun to
crumble at its inception. At this crisis the agent of England
appeared again as a prominent actor on the theatre of
events, sounding a note of blame for the acts of the ministry,
which he had been instrumental in forcing upon Ismail,
in such terms as to touch the amour propre of the Khedive,
who, plucking up courage, ventured to express his indignation.
The published account of his reply is given in his
own language, which will show the bent of his mind. He
expressed regret that the British Government should use
such language toward him. Moreover, the responsibility
they sought to cast upon him for the successful result of
the new order of things, and for the due entry of the taxes,
was neither logical nor just, and he must entirely disclaim it.
What was his present position in Egypt? He had surrendered
his personal property and his personal power, and
deliberately accepted the position of a constitutional
prince. A responsible ministry had been formed to advise
him, and if he rightly understood the first principles of constitutional
government, it was that the ministry, and not
the chief of state, was made responsible under such circumstances;
while as to the entry of the taxes, he had no control
or power over it, and therefore could not in any way be
held responsible for it. He must decline to meddle with
the proper functions of his ministers; his advice or opinion
was entirely at their disposition if they asked it, but he
could not thrust it upon them. Although he quite understood
that he was the person principally interested in the
working of the new scheme, he could not interfere with the
attributes of his ministers; and if they were not answerable

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for their own acts, what was the meaning of a responsible
ministry? Responsibility could only attach to him if he
attempted to interfere improperly with the government of
the country; otherwise he must entirely disclaim it.

Notwithstanding the move made by the British agent in
tying the hands of the Khedive, in making him only the
nominal ruler, in disposing of the government to suit only
partial interests and then threatening him when he was impotent,
the status quo became the laughing-stock of all
Egypt, except to the officials and the army who were starving,
and whose wives and children were begging for bread.
It is not then to be wondered at that the officers of the
army, worked up to frenzy, should have marched in a body,
in the February following, and driven the ministry of
Nubar Pacha from power amid scenes of violence.

Being in Cairo at this time, I hastened to the theatre of
events, and therefore I know that as soon as the Khedive
became aware that the ministers were bearded and some of
them held as prisoners, he resolutely interfered, in spite of
the murmuring of the infuriated soldiery and at his own
personal peril, and quieted the émeute. No man in Egypt
thought he foresaw the event—not even the agents of the
bondholders, who had always been sharp to find fault on
the slightest excuse, and to throw responsibility upon him
whenever it was possible to embroil him with the European
governments. After the discomfiture of the ministry the
people began the cry of hostility to the Christians, thinking
that they were about to be transferred to the control of the
Europeans. The alarm too was sounded that the foreigners
were going to nullify the law of the “Mukabala,” which
would take from them nearly half of their possessions and
beggar hundreds already struggling for existence. The
whole population of Egypt, more or less interested, were
intensely alarmed, and to increase the excitement large
numbers under a new law were added to the list for forced
labor known as the odious corvée system. The object of

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this was not so much to compel the people to work for the
public good as to force them to pay cash to save them from
working. This blackmailing, it was hoped, would pay a
larger amount into the treasury for the benefit of the bondholders.
Had there been any mercy shown to the people,
this wretched system of extortion might have pleaded some
extenuation, but everything was coldly calculated in the
interest of the foreigner. The foreign masters of Egypt
next procured an order from the English ministry to still
further cripple the monarch by forcing him to abandon his
own cabinet and abdicate his royal prerogative in favor of
two foreigners sitting in the cabinet, who should have
power to veto any measure they chose. Well might the
wily official exclaim, on the success of the policy which had
led the Eastern monarch to his ruin, that “the commission
have achieved extraordinary results in the short time they
have been here—results such as a year ago it would have
seemed absurd to expect.” The humiliation of the
Khedive was effected under the article already referred to,
and for which the Sublime Porte had pocketed the enormous
“backsheesh” which so softened the generous heart
of the Sultan. By this act was created that oligarchy
of carpet-baggers, a veritable dictatorial government of
foreigners, reducing Ismail to a nonentity, without wealth
or power. All that was left was the sympathy and latent
strength of the people. Events thickened, and new surprises
were daily expected; the old land of the Arabian
Nights had at last awakened from its dream of a thousand
years. Had Al Rhond Raschid suddenly appeared upon
the scene, he could not have been more amazed than the
people of Mas'r (Cairo) were when the sheiks and men of
position and wealth, ordinarily the most silent and pliant
instruments of power of all the Eastern people, stood forth
as champions of a new national policy, and, a thing never
meditated before in their dreams, actually assembled in a
public meeting, while a larger body of these people were

179

besieging the Khedive and his ministry with a petition for a
redress of grievances.

In this demonstration the discontent had assumed such
proportions as to create serious alarm. The Khedive
wisely warned the consul, who had been so considerate to
him, of impending complications, telling him that the
maladministration of those who had assumed authority was
bringing about serious consequences; that urgent steps
should be taken to allay the excitement constantly increasing
among the entire people. Instead of listening to the
appeals for justice from the country and offering some
remedy, the same misery, so often detailed, was allowed to
continue. While those in possession did not hesitate to treat
with contempt all other creditors, many of them foreigners,
the people of Egypt were not considered as worthy of the
slightest notice. To allay the excitement and to prevent a
revolution, which was certainly impending, the Khedive
was forced to dismiss the two foreigners from his cabinet
and form a new ministry, with Cherif Pacha at its head, an
old, tried minister of acknowledged ability, in whom the
people, both foreign and native, had implicit confidence.
The universal sentiment was that this act was wise and
patriotic; if there were no other reason, it had caused the
removal of the two foreigners from unlimited power without
any control—men who had no interests in the country,
who were ignorant of the people and their language, who
held the highest and most important places with little
knowledge of the government, who never looked beyond
the financial interests of their oppressors, and who deluged
the country with incompetent foreigners to hold the offices
their own people were more competent to fill, and to which
they had an inherent right of preference. How could
Ismail's action be received otherwise than with great rejoicing?
No sooner had this well-timed assumption of
authority been effected than tumult ceased and quiet
reigned. The moneyed oligarchy and their fattened agents,

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the latter concerned about their salaries, feeling that an
earthquake was beneath them, thought by a bold stroke to
rid themselves of the Khedive and stifle the popular feeling.
The writer of this published the statement at the
time that this act would inevitably bring grief to Egypt.
England and France were not thinking, however, of so
bloody a tragedy. He knew that Ismail was the only one in
his family who had the will and the power to rule the destiny
of Egypt in the crisis which beset her. Unfortunately, the
prediction has been verified. The agents of the moneyed
interests, having once held the reins of government and
tasted the sweets of unlimited power, were like a horde of
wild beasts which had once lapped human blood. They
would not hesitate to gratify their thirst for it again, at any
venture, however desperate, even to the destruction of the
victim. His enemies, well knowing that only through
another could they ever hope for success, decided upon the
sacrifice of the Khedive, Ismail Pacha. To smooth their
way to coveted power, having no right either legal or moral
to a further lease of authority, they circulated questionable
statements of universal discontent caused by cruel treatment
of the fellaheen. This talk was thundered throughout
Europe, and the cry of vengeance in the press was
heard. It acted like a charm, and it was evident that the
fruit was ripe for the picking. All due precautions being
arranged beforehand, they formally requested Ismail to
abdicate in favor of his son Tewfik, taking care to couple the
demand with a sop—the offer of a liberal civil list. Not yet
sufficiently tutored, he indignantly declined their interested
proposition. Ready with their bolt, they threatened to
place his uncle Halim, a deadly enemy to his own family,
on the throne, and thus deprive his immediate line of the
succession, for which he had paid so large a sum to the
Sultan. In the mean time they had appealed to the Sublime
Porte to depose him in favor of his son Tewfik. Now
that Ismail had no caisse, the Sultan promptly obeyed the

181

summons, stimulated probably by a gentle reminder, as they
do nothing in the East without pay. As the fellah would be
soon called upon to reimburse the baksheesh, what difference
did it make? With a few exceptions, all Europe
joined in the funeral procession. It being too late to resist,
and his cause now being hopeless, the Khedive allowed
himself to be decently set aside. The result was swift and
certain. In a short time he found himself safely ensconced
in the Italian palace La Favorita on the bay of Naples,
and, so far as Egypt is concerned, as dead as one of her
mummied Pharaohs.

Notwithstanding his bad management, the dethronement
of Ismail by the great powers, including Mr. Gladstone's
“excrescence” (the Sultan), raised him to the dignity of a
martyr in the eyes of the masses of Egypt. They believed
he was sacrificed in protecting them from the bondholders'
exactions. In these latter they simply saw new masters,
whose desire was not only to get their hard earnings to pay
a debt which they believed had been saddled on them by
fraud and corruption, but to take their country and to endanger
their religion.

In estimating the character of the Khedive it is unjust to
judge him wholly according to Western ideas. The modes
of reasoning of the Eastern man upon principles of right
and wrong are radically different from those of his Western
brother, and should be studied from the point of view that
custom and habit have sanctioned. Ismail was brought up
in a moral atmosphere where religion teaches it as a holy
duty, under certain circumstances, to lie to a Christian—
among a people whose pride of race, however ignorant and
superstitious they may be, is so immense that the meanest
beggar really believes himself superior to the most refined
civilized man; where the true believer is possessed with
the idea that modern science and improvement are but the
devices of the infidel instigated by the devil. Sincere in
all their professions, their will chained by the rhapsodies of

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the Prophet, how can it be otherwise than that they should
regulate their conduct in the affairs of life by a different
code of morals? The Khedive for many years broke
through the trammels that environed him, and was in the
midst of successful reform, never hesitating to strike down
superstitions when they stood in his way, and only when
fate decreed against him did he fall. There is no more
striking illustration of the difficulty he encountered than
the fact that the greatest opposition he met with in his
efforts to establish education and liberal government was
from the very people who were to be benefited so largely
by his schemes.

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CHAPTER XV.
MAHMOUD TEWFIK PACHA.

Careful training of Tewfik by Ismail—Monogamy enforced on him—Thorough
education—Originally not destined for the throne—Tewfik's personality
—Great difficulties attending Tewfik's accession—Smouldering
tate of the Arab against foreign rule—Incidents which complicated
Egyptian affairs—Rapacity and exactions of the European comptrollers
—The peasant robbed of his land—“Killing the goose that laid the
golden egg”— “The Egyptian Commission” construed to be international
by England and France—The last straw which broke the camel's
back.

MAHMOUD TEWFIK PACHA, the eldest son of Ismail, ex-Khedive,
was born of an Ikbal (favorite), in the palace of
one of his queens. His queens being surrounded by young
and pretty women, it often happened that the mother of
his children was from among the latter. His eldest three
sons were thus born. The law of the Prophet makes all
those born in the seclusion of the harem legitimate. Under
the powerful influence of his second queen, who was very
beautiful, he determined to make her son, Ibrahim, though
the fourth in age, his successor. It may be remarked that
under the treaty between the Sultan and Mehemet Ali, the
founder of the dynasty which was sanctioned by the great
powers, the succession of the viceroyalty was secured to
his descendants, meaning under the Mahometan law the
eldest of the family. Subsequently Ismail with a large
baksheesh induced Abdul-Aziz, then Sultan, to grant by a
firman the succession to his immediate descendants. This
arrangement was the more easily perfected because the Sultan
had entertained the same plan for his own son, and was

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rather pleased with the precedent; moreover, the large
bonus from Ismail which filled his coffers was too agreeable
an offering to refuse. But the proposition to still further
change it to the fourth son was too radical, for the law had
already been violated. This plan met with determined and
serious objection from the Sultan, and particularly from the
religious element, which had acquiesced only in bestowing
the mantle upon the elder of the Khedive's immediate
family. They raised a clamor against giving it to his
younger son, and Ismail in consequence abandoned the
idea. Several years intervened before the mother was acknowledged
a queen and Tewfik declared the successor.
Of medium height, like Ismail, compactly built, with a
large, dark, placid eye, without much sparkle but amiable
in expression, and with pleasing manner, he has the winning
smile of his family. He is thirty-four years of age.
With a dark brown complexion and black hair, he looks less
like a Greek or a Circassian than any of the family, and
could pass very well for a Copt in features and appearance.
I once saw a large photograph of a Copt which was a remarkable
likeness of Tewfik. He alone of Ismail's sons
was not educated in Europe, but he was liberally instructed
by Europeans in Egypt, and is accomplished in French,
Arabic, and Turkish, with some knowledge of English. It
may be said of Ismail that he gave his children no time for
play; both sexes were kept at their studies through their
youth until they were disposed of in marriage, which was
only at maturity, contrary to the custom among Mahometans,
who frequently force children when very young into
matrimony. In this respect even the Copt Christians follow
their example, and bind boys and girls together at the
early age of from six to ten years. Ismail's sons were educated
for affairs of state, and the daughters in all modern
accomplishments. At an early age Tewfik was a minister
and privy counsellor, and in this way became conversant
with the interior economy and necessities of Egypt. Those

Tewfik Pacha, Khedive of Egypt.

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who knew him well say he was earnest in business, for his
father, a man of sleepless energy, gave him no time for
Oriental ease. He robbed his son's harem of the tempting
luxury of numerous wives, confining Tewfik, as he did all
the rest of his family, to the Christian rule of one man and
one woman, being inexorable in this departure from
Mahometan precedent. In 1873, at the time of the grand
fêtes already alluded to, the marriage of Tewfik to Amineh
Hannoum, the granddaughter of Abbas Pacha, was celebrated.
Of high honor, and with all the instincts of a gentleman,
Tewfik is said to entertain great regard for the accomplished
and amiable young lady who is now dignified as
his queen. It is asserted that in his domestic relations his
life is spotless.

Courting the religious element, which has great strength
with the masses, it has been often said that he was under
its special control, and that he grovelled in the muddy
waters of effete and disgusting superstitions. No ruler of a
Mahometan country as it is now constituted in Egypt can
command a peaceful government, except by the strong arm
of power, without a consideration for the people and their
religion. Pressed on all sides by the advances of civilization,
the religious element is alarmed and suspicious.
Ismail, understanding this, did not fail to instruct Tewfik
how important it was to have a good understanding with
the ulemas and sheiks. He repaired mosques and beautified
neglected tombs of saints, invited sheiks to sing the
Koran in his palace, and regaled the chief men of the sects
with fine dinners after Arab fashion. This was policy, yet
it seems to have miscarried, for in all the recent movements
the common people seem to have been more hostile than
any other class. I do not think the religious element controlled
him, as recent events indicate his apparent hostility
to it. Knowing him for many years, I never saw in him
anything like bigotry and intolerance, but always the instincts
of a liberal-minded gentleman. I have often seen

186

him at the Doseh, which is the yearly ride over a mass of
writhing fanatics, a most inhuman and disgusting custom,
practised on the return of the pilgrims from Mecca.
Though really contrary to orthodoxy, it is a binding, unwritten
law like that of Juggernaut in the Indies. Every
one of the 400,000 people of Cairo who can do so witnesses
it, looking upon the scene with dazed interest; they consider
it sacred simply because it is a time-honored custom.
Many sects feel that it is one of the most useful elements
in their religious ceremonies, and the ignorant believe their
sheik too holy to injure a prostrate man by the tread of the
horse in riding over him. Ismail, who had a contempt for
this brutal exhibition, studiously avoided it, but finally fell
from grace in the last year of his reign. Having struck at
many of the superstitions of his people, they were sometimes
suspicious of him, and I felt respect for his boldness
and liberality. I was surprised to see him descend from his
elevated position and apparently take a great interest in
crushing the backs of the youth of his country under the
tread of a horse ridden by a fanatic. I thought at the time
when he yielded to this weakness that he too was seeking
strength among this class of his people, making as it were a
sort of rebound from the blows of his creditors, and coming
back to first principles. It seemed to be a sort of preparation
to meet coming events. Deserted as he was by
European support when his money was gone, and no doubt
seeing shadows in his path, he thought that by throwing
the weight of his position in favor of this hideous spectacle
he might regain popularity with his besotted people.
Foreseeing the time when resistance should become necessary,
it might be well to call to his aid the banner of the
Prophet. This spectacle has been finally abandoned under
Tewfik. Although better balanced than any of the other
sons, I never thought Tewfik equal to his father, and have
not been surprised at his failure in ruling a people so
illiterate and fanatical, with its discordant elements complicated

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by the Anglo-French oligarchy. Good-natured and
well-meaning, but in the iron grasp of the powers, he found
it difficult to reconcile conflicting interests. The increasing
jealousy of the Arab against foreign rule, which Ismail in
his weakness had entailed upon Egypt, was becoming daily
more aggressive. The material facts which have been related
thus far mostly came under my own observation, and
are sustained by the published official correspondence of the
Consuls-General of England and France. The figures are all
from published official records: where I have not read them
I have given my authority. What will be further noted is
based entirely upon the same authority. My conclusions
are founded upon facts which have come from those entitled
to confidence, who like myself were long residents, who
were in Egypt at the time I left there in March, 1879, and
who had the best means of learning the incidents which led
to the late aggressive war. It is impossible to get to an
understanding of this question without following it somewhat
in detail, but this will be done as briefly as possible.

It has been already shown that foreign rule had created
widespread alarm and discontent among all classes of the
people, and consequently among the National party, which
was becoming influential. The finances were unsettled, and
there were the same difficulties as in the past in raising even
a moiety of the interest demanded. It has never been
questioned that Tewfik was a mere creature of the bondholders,
and that he was expected to reinstate the comptrollers
with greater influence than they had enjoyed under
Ismail. In order to smooth his advent to power they were
compelled to give up their demand for places in the cabinet.
Thus far they permitted Tewfik to rid the new
ministry of its most odious feature. They conceded this
much to the clamor of Egypt, and by so doing they stultified
themselves, for it was solely on this ground (so they
pretended) that Ismail was removed. Nevertheless this
did not subsequently prevent the most extraordinary exactions,

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and the application of a pressure even more exquisite
in its cruelty than that formerly used. What added to the
lamentations of the fellaheen was that through the forms
of law Europeans by questionable means had come into
possession of large tracts of land belonging to them.
Under the rule of the whip and the bastinado they were
left with life enough to regain strength sufficient to cultivate
their small tracts of land; but now they were driven
from their homes with their starving families; what trifling
substance the miserable fellah usually had was soon eaten
up, and they were reduced to beggary. If this loss had
been the result of idleness or profligacy, like that of their
rulers in many cases, it might be said that it was a just retribution;
but when it is considered that from necessity
these people were forced to labor continually, first in preparing
their lands for the next crop, then in working the
canals for the general good, and lastly in unremitting cultivation
afterward, there could have been no more shameful
outrage than taking from them all they had, wherewith by
any possibility they could gain a subsistence. Did the vulture
eye of the creditor of the government see the slightest
neglect, straightway the mudir or sheik administered the
kourbash by way of a gentle admonition, and so there was
no rest for the children of Ishmael. There is no people in
the world who are under greater subjection to the law of
earning their bread by the sweat of their face. After the
whip and the bastinado, which always accompanied the
bond-holders' tax-gatherer, had failed to bring sufficient
revenue to pay their interest, it became necessary to resort
to some new device to satisfy their rapacity. They had
been killing the goose that laid the golden egg. In April,
1880, in pursuance of the demand, the Khedive appointed
a European commission of several nationalities, in which
England and France had the lion's share. Most seriously
interested, Egypt was not allowed a voice, nor was Turkey
given a seat. Though the intention in appointing this

189

commission was to adopt a just system of land taxation, and
bring under the rule certain lands that were believed to exist
that had not been subjected to taxation, so that a reduction
of taxes might be made beneficial to the oppressed fellah,
they were no sooner installed than they assumed rights of
a legislative character. They commenced by reviving the
cadastré or land-revenue survey system, with its natural
following, another horde of foreign officials, with a very good
appointment, General Stone, at their head. To his credit
be it said, Stone soon left this odious connection to those
better prepared to do the bidding of the reigning powers.

The work of this commission was no sooner known than
it was the signal for another influx of office-holders from
foreign parts, who soon spread over Egypt and commenced,
to the amazement of the people, wiping out the ancient
landmarks of their property. This brand-new land-office was
expected to effect the happiest results, by insuring metes
and bounds to every inch of ground, under European survey,
and in this way increase the revenue. The commission
reduced the rate of interest on the nominal amount of
the debt from seven to four per cent. It was a mere pretence
that it was done to relieve the fellah; it was a deep
design to repeal the law of the Moukabala, it being through
the philanthropic show of kindness for the fellah that the
commission was procured. The law, it will be remembered,
was the rich legacy left by Sadik Pacha, the defunct
minister of Ismail. It provided that by paying into the
treasury one half the rent of the land for six years at once
or by instalments, the owners were allowed to redeem it
forever. Ismail solemnly pledged his faith and that of
Egypt to hold this law inviolate, and the bondholders
gladly seized upon the money to pay their interest. There
were one million of these poor people who paid into the
treasury $83,000,000, and after 1885 half of their land was
to be, according to its provisions, free of taxation in perpetuity.
In lending themselves to this swindling operation

190

by repealing the law, the commission took out of the
pockets of the landowner not only the enormous sum in
hard cash which they had paid, but the additional $85,000,000
rental per year which they had redeemed! To offset
this gigantic robbery, the generous bondholders agreed to
pay the sum of $750,000 per annum, which was a bagatelle,
and to levy a tax upon their neighbors to pay it.

The five great powers who sat in judgment upon Egypt
agreed to bind themselves by the decision of this commission.
It was a sort of treaty among themselves, for it was
so much the custom among these people to dispose of
Egypt as the property of the foreign creditor that they
never deemed it worth while to consult the Sultan or the
Khedive in finishing their work. The Sultan had no voice
in it, though Egypt was his province, as already stated, and
Tewfik did not sign the agreement. The commission was
entirely local in any view, and the Khedive paid its expenses.
Under no construction, moral or legal, could it be
any other than a simple law of Egypt, if the action of such
an extraordinary commission as this could be dignified as a
law of any kind; certainly by no reasoning could it be
forced upon the common-sense of the world as an “international
law” as claimed by them, nor was it a law of
Egypt according to the constitution forced on Ismail which
led to his abdication.

England, intent upon carrying out the designs of the late
statesman who had seen that the time had come by a wise
policy to plant the foot of Albion firmly on the banks of
the Nile, did not hesitate to interpret the simple act of the
Egyptian commission as the action of the five great
powers; and though the engagement was not signed by
Tewfik, yet she considered Egypt as a party, and without
further consideration adopted the ingenious term of her
Consul-General, and dignified it as an “international
engagement.” It will be seen further on, that upon this
pretext all Egypt was deluged in blood. It was not the

191

threatening attitude of Arabi that brought on strife. It
was simply that the Notables had proposed to vote upon
that part of the revenue which had been assigned to the
Egyptians; any other consideration was an afterthought,
to satisfy the indignant opinion of the world.

A power had grown up in Egypt, created by Ismail when
he was in the height of his reign, filled with ideas of progress,
of the advancement of his people, and of the future
welfare of his country. Though he was, it is believed,
deceived into surrendering an important element of his
sovereignty in the adoption of the International Code, he
could not present the plea of ignorance in granting a parliament
to the Arab. It is likely that he did not foresee the
important rôle it would be so soon called upon to play,
when at the outset it was an unwieldy mass of ignorant
sheiks, who rather disliked being called together at Cairo in
grand, solemn conclave to vote upon questions of which
they knew nothing, and to be laughed at by all Egypt for
being so stupidly ignorant that they did not know what was
expected of them. There is no doubt that at first their
single idea was to know the opinion of the Khedive upon all
the questions before them, and to vote accordingly. They
had no thought of opposing him, and believed profoundly
that their safety lay in executing his will by their votes.

Like the early English Parliament, the assembly soon
learned its latent power, however; and at this time, under
Tewfik, the new Khedive, the Notables were only too willing
to “bell the cat” and vote the other way in a solid
body. It then became “the laugh that laughs not.” The
Notables made respectful but firm demands for additional
authority, in order that they might with more certainty
legislate upon the unassigned revenues, over which they had
the right of control. The comptrollers saw in this the
design of clipping the enormous salaries of $25,000 and
$30,000 for themselves and their foreign coadjutors, which
were drawn out of the pittance allowed to conduct the

192

Egyptian Government, and not from the half assigned to
the bondholders. They then raised a cry of dismay at the
temerity of the Notables, declaring that the country was on
the road to ruin, and their ministry at once resigned, to
produce an effect upon Europe. Cherif Pacha formed a
new ministry, with the idea that it was good policy to have
the Notables to play off against the military power, and
thus produce an equilibrium in the politics of Egypt.

The comptrollers, however, seeing the glittering gold fast
sliding out of their clutches, made haste to lay the matter
before their royal agent, and ordered him to take a snap
judgment on the refractory Notables, and to issue a decree
that they should meet at once before they could have time
to make a formal demand or he to grant the additional
authority required. At this time a new power entered into
the problem of Egyptian politics, in the person of Arabi
Pacha, an obscure lieutenant-colonel, who only three years
before had been in command of a regiment of 2500 men at
Rosetta. This man was destined to play an important part
in the tragedy.

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CHAPTER XVI.
ACHMET ARABI PACHA.

Arabi Pacha as first known by the writer—His extraordinary devotion to his
faith—Personal characteristics of the man—Causes that first placed him
at the head of the National party—The comptrollers and the House of
Notables—Quarrel over the unassigned revenues, growing out of the
rapacity of English officials—Tewfik a mere tool of England and France
—His weakness, vacillation, and folly—Arabi's first great act as a popular
leader—England, backed by France, solely responsible for the attempted
revolution—Ignoble part played by the Sultan—” True inwardness”
of the English policy—Arrival of the English fleet—The massacre
at Alexandria and the bombardment—Arabi's strategy as a general—
End at Tel-el-Kebir—Arabi's mistakes—The war on Egypt resolved
into a determination to keep 1325 Englishmen in fat places.

I KNEW Arabi Pacha for many years, but never suspected
him of possessing the qualities of a revolutionist. Since
the late outbreak in Egypt, many occurrences have come
back to me that can be explained only on the theory that
even then he was brooding over the wrongs of his race.
Far superior to the majority of Arab officers in intelligence,
he was reserved and secluded, a man of thought who took
care to improve his opportunities. He was a fanatic in his
close attention to the duties of his religion, rigidly following
its superstitious customs, never neglecting his numerous
prayers and ablutions or his attendance at the mosque.
Intimate with the sheiks and ulemas, he was always looked
upon as a pillar of the faith.

It is a mistake to suppose that he was the only leading
man in this revolutionary fiasco; some of those who were
considered the best and most reliable men—officials and
others—in Egypt were equally compromised. It was a

194

general uprising of the whole Arab race against great
wrongs.

Arabi Pacha is of large size, compactly built, of dark
brown complexion, full face, large black eyes of amiable
expression, and gentle manner. During the Abyssinian
campaign he acted as quartermaster in charge of transportation,
but did not succeed very well—not from any fault of
his, but through the utter incapacity and cowardice of
Ratib Pacha, the commanding general of the expedition.
Here it is again necessary to notice the comptrollers and
their assistants. In order that they might consummate
their scheme for thwarting the just action of the Notables
in their vaulting ambition to rule, they took counsel from
their suspicions and procured an order sending Arabi Pacha
from Cairo. Their extraordinary action brought this officer
into public notice in the most unexpected manner possible,
and placed him at the head of the National party as a
political leader. Arabi's offence was that he had drafted
new rules for the Notables in 1879. For this reason he
was considered as having present influence with them, and
consequently as a dangerous man. This unheard of procedure
was the signal for an outburst of indignation among all
classes in Cairo. The excitement drew from their homes
the quiet and orderly people of that city, and a new and
enthusiastic popular ovation was given Arabi. The people
accompanied him out of the metropolis, when he obeyed
the order of the Khedive to leave the city. Rid of his opposition,
the comptrollers threatened the Notables with the
thunder of their wrath in case they dared to touch the
budget, or even to mention it in their assembly. They
could exile them as they had the acknowledged leader of
the people, but they could not gag the simple-minded fellaheen
from the villages along the Nile. They had created
among that silent, downtrodden people a feeling that
Allah would right their wrongs.

As Arabi will hereafter act a prominent part in the events

195

which led to the catastrophe at Tel-el-Kebir, it is well to
reaffirm that the army had been sadly neglected. The
comptrollers, the real rulers of Egypt, not only heaped
contumely on it, but it was their secret intention to dismiss
the larger portion of the army so as to lessen the expense
of the government and to destroy as far as possible any
bulwark by which the people could resist the constant oppression
visited upon them. The new government, alarmed,
had appointed as minister of war a Circassian by the name
of Osman Pacha Rifki, a notorious scoundrel, whose history
will be found in a chapter on the war with Abyssinia.
Certainly there could be no more fit instrument to perform
a treacherous act than Osman. The papers of the day state
that he appointed to colonelcies a number of Circassians
over the heads of many Arab officers who, by seniority,
competency, and service, were entitled to promotion.
These wrongs and the need of many necessary reforms induced
three colonels to present a respectful petition for redress.
Subsequently the regiments to which they were
attached were ordered to attend a procession. It had in
the mean time been determined that upon their presenting
themselves for that purpose the colonels should be arrested
and imprisoned. Osman was only too glad to engage in the
cowardly and treacherous scheme, but his plan proved
futile. The regiments, on learning of the arrest of their
commanding officers, went in a body and demanded their
release, and the craven Circassian, dreading the vengeance
of an outraged people, leaped from a two-story window to
escape the merited punishment. The result was that the
Khedive ordered the release of the colonels and dismissed
the infamous Osman. Throughout these occurrences the
Khedive, feeling himself in the iron grasp of the powers,
was really in sympathy with his people. Pledging his faith
at the outset to follow the instructions of his masters, and
having been completely entangled in their policy, he could
look to them alone to maintain him in his position. But

196

he was weak, and every movement of the people for any
right sent a shiver through him. Constant vacillation was
the consequence. Arrests and releases of the arrested followed
each other continually.

Having lost all confidence in a ministry thoroughly hostile
to their interests; believing, according to the published
accounts of the day, that they were being sold out to the
foreigner, and feeling that the Khedive was under duress,
the people and the army became excited to such a degree
that they called upon Arabi, now a prominent leader, to
ask the Khedive in their name to redress their wrongs.
Arabi with a large body of soldiers then surrounded the
palace of the Khedive and demanded the dismissal of the
ministry, the assembly of the Notables, and the restoration
of the army to its former status. This was no assembly of
military for sinister ends, nor an uprising to gratify personal
ambition, but it was, as Arabi said at the time, a plan “to
secure by arms the liberties of the Egyptian people.” His
famous speech during these events deserves praise, particularly
as his act was for the people and not for his personal
aggrandizement. He appealed to England, which had
made such efforts for the liberation of all slaves elsewhere,
to sympathize with the Egyptians in their attempt to
obtain liberty. All the acts of this man have demonstrated
that, whether in or out of power, he never did
aught to justify the imputation of ambition or self-seeking.
He merely acted as the leader of nine tenths of the people,
who demanded an administration which was theirs of right.
Never in any instance did Arabi or the Notables by legislation
attempt to deprive the bondholders of the revenues
set apart for the payment of their interest.

The English Consul-General, in conjunction with the
English comptroller, was busied in creating “incidents,”
the more rapidly to hurry Egypt into a crisis. “Complication,”
as he wrote later to Granville, “of an acute nature
must supervene before any satisfactory solution of the

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Egyptian question can be attained; and it would be wiser
to hasten than to endeavor to retard it.” This remarkable
despatch is the key to the entire policy which by gradual
steps led to the expected catastrophe. All the movements
of the powers up to this time were in accord, both France
and England agreeing that the cause of trouble was with
the Notables—namely, the fear of legislation on the budget.
Arabi and the military were entirely unmentioned in
the published despatches. To Gambetta it was not so clear
as to the consul that the action of the commission was
“international.” He looked at it rather as a “simple proclamation”
to reorganize the finances, to which the powers
were invited by the decree of the Khedive. Even the
comptrollers, when it became urgently necessary to warn
the Notables to “beware,” simply excused themselves by
saying it was a mandate written to strengthen the hands of
the Khedive. It is now well understood that the statement
that the war was occasioned by a violation of “international
engagements” was not true. The published correspondence
does not sustain the theory that the Khedive was
bound by this fiction, for at the very time the question
arose, he objected. They overcame his squeamishness by
telling him it was none of his business; that, being simply
the vassal of the Sultan, he must refuse his sanction to any
legislation upon finance, and must notify the Notables of
his determination. In answer to a protest from the Sultan,
they said he had so little interest in such matters that he
could not dictate to the Khedive upon this important question.
Their crooked policy was like a two-edged sword—it
cut both ways. It will be recollected that while these
events were occurring Tewfik, foreseeing the coming storm,
begged that Turkey might be asked to send troops to
Egypt to control the outburst fast approaching. But as
this might “retard” the end his masters negatived the
proposal as soon as made.

After this terrible effort, Tewfik once more subsided into

198

his accustomed Oriental meditation on nothing. The Sultan
was not apparently lost to all sense of humanity.
Foreboding the misfortunes so soon to fall upon the
devoted head of the fellah, he proposed sending a general
to advise against precipitating his vassal into war. He too
wanted to be heard in favor of peace. But this would have
been a stumbling-block in England's path to conquest.
The Sultan was bidden not to do it. Superior to the
menace of the powers, he sent two envoys in the hope of
peace, but these were summarily withdrawn in compliance
with powerful remonstrance, and the “excrescence” finally
contented himself with sending Dervish Pacha, who arrived
too late to do more than play a small diplomatic game with
both Tewfik and Arabi. If there were any doubt of “the
anxiety to hasten it,” England cut the Gordian knot by
despatching two iron-clads, ostensibly to scare the Turkish
envoys out of Egypt, but really to keep up the excitement.
This was done against the protest of Turkey, Egypt, and
even of the British consul, who, it seems, had not matured
his plans. The agents of the bondholders, feeling that
their governments had entered earnestly into their cause,
refused to listen to the strongest appeals of the Notables
for compromise, though these people had shown by every
act that they did not intend injustice to any of their lawful
engagements, and particularly that they did not contemplate
interference with the rights vested in the bondholders.
So their timely but respectful request met with contemptuous
defiance, and they were told that they really had no
right to legislate upon finance at all, not even upon the
unassigned revenues. It was declared that “the action of
the comptrollers extends to the whole public service,” assuming
directly that they, the bondholders' creatures, were
the rulers of Egypt.

M. De Freycinet, Gambetta's successor, on learning of
the unheard-of demand of these Egyptian (foreign) officials,
exclaimed, “It never could have been intended that the

199

comptrollers should take the whole direction of the Government
of Egypt;” and the English minister wrote that he
“would not advocate a total or permanent exclusion of the
chambers from handling the budget.” The world had
passed its opinion upon the extraordinary policy of these
officials, and the English Government had to do something,
however little, to disavow the action of its representatives.
It also became necessary to soften the anger of the creditors;
so the Foreign Secretary added that he had approached
the question with “caution, on account of the
pecuniary interests on behalf of which Her Majesty's
Government have been acting.” He asked what effect it
would have upon finances if the Notables attempted the
handling of the unassigned revenues. The consul stated in
reply that “the official salaries would be under their control,
and that the Notables would be able to abolish the
land survey and dismiss many Europeans in the administration.”
By regular methods they had proceeded to entangle
Egypt in their meshes, getting all they cared for through
the consuls, the Khedive, and the Sultan; they had now
arrived at a point where they could bring their governments
directly in conflict with the representatives, and force them
to become openly, as they had been secretly, responsible
for the events in Egypt. Instead of meeting the Notables
in a conciliatory spirit, the Consul-General, knowing that
he was supported by the great powers, deliberately turned
his back upon them. His act having been approved, by
the powers, they were responsible for all the consequences.
There was no overt act by the Arabs; they had merely
stated their case; but daring even to contemplate a violation
of the comptrollers' orders was magnified into a great
offence against the dignity of the governments which had
but just unmasked their hidden policy and boldly proclaimed
themselves the champions of the bondholders. It
is needless to multiply facts showing the spirit with which
the new masters of Egypt pursued the representatives of

200

the people. The patient “beasts of burden” in assembly
met it without complaint. But they firmly believed that
eventually the two great governments would listen to their
appeals for justice in the name of humanity. Instead of
this, they were menaced with force if they did not yield
their rights to the two comptrollers. This was simply asking
them to declare themselves slaves, and to return to
their mud villages to be again entertained with the swing of
the old sceptre.

It will be remembered that Ismail tried to check the
encroachments of the foreigner, and in doing so aroused
the deep hatred of the Arab for the latter. But it was too
late to stem aggression. It only ended in driving him from
the throne. The Arab had learned through Ismail that he
too was a power in the land. Tewfik, who began by mortgaging
his authority to the foreigner, soon found himself
confronted by the Notables, the army, and the people.
The Arab ministry, which dared to think for itself and sustain
the Notables, was immediately marked for the vengeance
of the masters of Egypt. Tewfik was compelled to
act against the counsels of his ministry. The Sultan, who
at this time was playing a double part through his emissaries,
was required to denounce the assembly of Notables
and the ministry which supported them. This double
pressure led to the resignation of the latter body. Poor
Tewfik, who had lost all influence, found it impossible to
form another cabinet directly in favor of the creditors, and
experienced another bitter check to his policy. The
ministry was scarcely dismissed before he was compelled to
take it back into his counsels. The Khedive's weakness
made him the tool of his enemies. The hour had come, so
devoutly anticipated by the comptrollers and consular
agents. Under the plea that Tewfik, who had been faithful
to them, was in danger, they insisted that it was absolutely
necessary to re-establish him, their too willing ally.
To effect this grand object, the British and French iron-clads

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arrived at Alexandria on the 20th of May, against the protest
of the Sultan. The English official had previously
written that “the political advantage of the arrival of the
combined fleets would override the danger it might possibly
cause to Europeans in Cairo.” They soon presented an
ultimatum, in which it was stated that “if necessary, they
would visit the ministry with dismissal and Arabi with
exile, to restore to the Khedive the authority which belongs
to him,” while perfectly well aware, from facts within
their knowledge, that neither attempt would be submitted
to. Thus it is seen that Egypt was confronted with war,
while her people were doing all they could through their
representatives to prevent it. The conflict was urged on
solely in the interests of the bondholders and their agents,
the comptrollers, or so-called officials of Egypt, whose
salaries were made to take the most conspicuous place in
the startling programme.

This was the state of affairs when the English and French
fleets entered the port of Alexandria. It will be remembered
that for more than three years, beginning at the close
of the reign of Ismail, the National party had been growing,
and at this time it comprised the whole Arab population.
All the elements, and particularly the religious
element, which control the masses were very much excited.
Many honestly believed that the foreigner was absorbing
their country; others thought that their Mahometan faith
was in danger. The ulemas and sheiks had been unceasing
in filling the ignorant masses with this idea. They believed
Tewfik to be in the power of the English and French, and
though they felt kindly toward him, still they believed their
safety rested with the ministry and with Arabi Pacha,
whose advice they implicitly followed.

In getting their fleet ready for action under the pretence
of protecting Tewfik, the English should have considered
that they were acting against a vast multitude, really a
mob, spread over a great extent of country, excited by constant

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outrage and by the fiery appeals of the sheiks and
ulemas to a frenzied fanaticism. These unfortunate people
in their despair were driven to crystallization under Arabi
Pacha, in whom they had enthusiastic confidence. He
had stood up manfully for their rights, because, like them,
he was born in a mud hut and had experienced the woes of
their race. Never before having seen any man who dared to
brave authority, who could resist backsheesh. and, above all,
who was not captivated by the blandishments of official
preferment, there seemed to them every reason, morally
and politically, why Arabi above all others should be
heeded. The question will be asked, Why was silent contempt
the only answer to his urgent appeals to England to
extend the same kindness to the slaves of Egypt that she
had shown to the slaves in all other countries? The great
naval armament had come too far and had cost too much
to go back at the beck of humanity. It was its glorious
privilege to try its metal upon a poor, miserable, insignificant,
ignorant people, who had had all the spirit lashed out
of them by cruel taskmasters for thousands of years. As
this magnificent fleet lay in their harbor, with its broadsides
covering the city, ready at any moment to begin the work of
destruction, the ragged Arab population were looking on
with a dazed and bewildered curiosity, never realizing, even
at the last instant, that “glorious old England,” around
which so many splendid associations clung, whose name had
been heralded wherever liberty or humanity had an abiding
place, was about, without cause or justification, to demolish
their fortifications, lay in ashes their beautiful city, and
throw enormous deadly missiles among their women and
children, herded together on the narrow neck of land upon
which Alexandria is built, and from which there was no
escape. To the gallant sailors exhausted in the work of
death, when the roar of cannon had ceased for a moment,
how sweet must have been the agonizing cry of despair and
the shrieks of dying women and children as they came to

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them wafted by gentle zephyrs through the dense black
smoke which enveloped them! Did they stop to ask the
question, “Are we justified? Have we given these people
sufficient warning? Are we dooming these people and
their beautiful city to destruction only to gratify the
rapacity of unscrupulous bondholders and their coldblooded
gents?”

The worm trodden on will sometimes turn and sting.
The massacre of the 11th of June, 1882, was a terrible
event; but could it have been unexpected to those who
knew the extraordinary rabble of all nationalities inhabiting
Alexandria? The consul evidently expected it at
Cairo, but thought the fleet had conjured away the danger.
The Mahometan was excited by the threatening attitude of
the fleet, which to his mind meant approaching tyranny.
The rabble of all other nationalities was simply elated.
When the fleets threatened Alexandria there was a regularly
constituted government in Egypt. There was no real
cause of war between Egypt and the great powers. There
had been no declaration of war against Egypt or against
the Sultan, against whom such declaration would lie. The
fact that the guns of the deserted fortifications, without
regular artillerists, were pointed to the sea and the entrance
and but few toward the city, is a striking evidence that the
military authorities never contemplated fighting a powerful
fleet within the harbor. The fortifications at best were
wholly unequal to the powerful armament before them, and
the repairs going on and the slow movements of a few guns
were a mere bagatelle. The massacre which had taken
place was one of those accidents which happen among excited
people, and if report speaks truly it was just as likely
to have been begun by the foreigners as by the Arabs. It
is generally conceded that much the larger number killed
were Arabs. The movement of the military, the anxiety
of the people, the necessary confusion of a populous city,
and the separation of the leader and generals from the

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ministry and Khedive produced delay and often a conflict
of orders, for want of any regular system. The orders for
instant obedience to the imperative demands of the English
admiral were naturally unheeded for want of time, though
in reality it was the intention to submit to force. Facts
subsequently developed seem to demonstrate this proposition
as true, and to show that one reason for hurrying the
bombardment was that it might be arranged.

The officer commanding the English fleet naturally
smarted under the extraordinary spectacle witnessed a few
days before, when many foreigners were killed. He was
almost within hearing of the shrieks of the wounded and
dying, without the power to afford relief. The fact that
the bombardment took place in such hot haste had the
semblance at least of hurry to efface, if possible, the mortification
of being bearded by a few ragged Arabs. Finding
the English fleet had determined to try the effect of the
ponderous shot from their enormous iron-clads, Arabi, in
the few days he had, made such preparation as he could, to
reply to this attack. Feeble though it was, it is said the
Englishmen expressed admiration at some parts of the
defence. The struggle, as expected, was short; the fortifications
were destroyed, thousands of Egyptians were
killed at their guns, and the city of Alexandria was partially
burned. France, up to the act of war, was enlisted in
bringing Egypt to the support of the policy that the two
powers had advocated, but wisely thinking there was no
cause for war, naturally sensitive where her honor was concerned,
and believing in peace, though equally interested
with England in Egyptian affairs, she ordered her fleet to
sail out of port before the sound of English cannon was
heard in the unholy task of devoting the doomed city and
its people to the dreadful horrors of war. There was no
justification for the bombardment. Few nations or people
have been found to applaud the deed, and England, being
wholly responsible with France for leading Egypt to her

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great misery, impartial history will condemn her act as an
outburst of savage vandalism, scarcely paralleled even in
her annals.

Recent events are so fresh in the memories of men that
it is hardly necessary to say more upon this subject; but a
few words are due to Arabi Pacha, who was placed suddenly
in command of the civil and military administration;
for Tewfik, the nominal head of the government in this
crisis, being without influence or power, had disappeared
and shut himself up in his palace at Ramleh. Arabi's was
one of the most difficult and trying situations in which any
man could be placed. He was at the head of a country
without money and with few resources. But slightly acquainted
with government, he seems yet to have brought
some sort of system out of disorder, and to have made a
brave and successful struggle in diplomacy and intrigue
with such time-honored veterans as Cherif Pacha, of Egypt,
and Dervish Pacha, the Sultan's representative. His great
blunder was in permitting Lesseps to persuade him, under
the pretence of neutrality, not to interfere with the Suez
Canal, which was in his power for several weeks. He let
the opportunity pass under the inspiration of the wily
Frenchman. This folly blinded him to a proper and timely
preparation at Tel-el-Kebir, for the defence of his line from
Ismailia to Cairo, really the only practicable route for the
season. Displaying ability up to this point, he signally
failed here; he did not read history aright, which should have
informed him that no great nation, especially England,
would ever respect international law under such circumstances.
His military movements were equally at fault,
and proved him unable to cope wth his adversary in the
strategy of war. Even at the last moment, in selecting the
two positions of Tel-el-Kebir and Salhieh, he did well, but
he neglected his defences. Above all, he should have concentrated
his forces. Instead of having 25,000 or 30,000
men, many of them irregulars, at Tel-el-Kebir, he could

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easily have had 50,000 regular troops there, by leaving
small garrisons at Damietta, Aboukir, Kafir Dawar, and
Cairo. He knew that the great fleet of England could
command the coast and capture or destroy its fortifications.
His work was in the interior, and his energies should have
been expended in massing his forces at the strongest points
there. Instead of these ordinary precautions, he undertook
the impossible task of defending all Egypt, and was crushed
without making a respectable fight. Another important
circumstance which had a bearing in hurrying the collapse
was the surprise at Tel-el-Kebir. This shows that he possessed
the extraordinary characteristic of his race, of never
occupying himself with thought of danger except when it
was imminent, and of never repairing a bridge unless it
were falling to pieces. This Oriental indolence coupled
with intentional neglect is remarkably illustrated in this instance.
Before an enemy was near, the empty desert being
in front and around, the army of Arabi was clouded with
Bedouin scouts and pickets in the distance. Every precaution
that a general should take when he was in active
operation and expected an attack was observed. But, extraordinary
to relate, no sooner were the English within a
day's march of him than he withdrew his scouts, pickets,
and Bedouins, for fear somebody should be hurt. The result
was, the English were in the Egyptian defences before
the defenders knew of the advance, and the war was ended
at a single blow. Since writing the above, I have been
credibly informed by a prominent resident of Alexandria,
who was there during the events related, that Sultan Pacha,
an agent of the English, had bought off the Bedouins from
the front of Arabi, and that subsequently he had been paid
$50,000 for his services on this occasion. Arabi's ignorance
of this accounts for his surprise. Many simple truths are
now indisputable; among them the fact that England and
France ruled Egypt through the Khedive for more than
three years, and are responsible for the discontent among

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the people. The purpose of forcing the people to pay the
indebtedness of the government to the bondholders and the
salaries of foreign officials engaged in their interest was the
occasion of sending their fleets to Alexandria. Though the
ostensible reason for making war was to protect Tewfik, the
ally of the bondholders, against the military, the real reason
was that the Notables claimed the right to legislate upon
the unassigned revenues of Egypt in the budget, which
might interfere with the pay of the 1325 foreign officers
forced upon the country. The act of the comptrollers in
ordering Tewfik to drive Arabi Pacha out of Cairo for fear
he might influence the Notables in their legislation upon
the pay of these officials was an acknowledgment that he was
a great political leader, and it influenced the entire people
of Egypt to consider him as such. There can be no question
that Arabi Pacha was opposed to the massacre of
Christians, and did all he could to prevent it; and it is certain
that he was in no manner concerned in the burning of
Alexandria. In a word, he was honest and humane, and
carried on war as best he could according to the usages of
civilized nations, at least so far as can be learned from any
evidence that has been published, and he is entitled to
credit for saving the Suez Canal from injury under extraordinary
provocation, it matters not from what motive.

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CHAPTER XVII.
A JOURNEY TO MOUNT SINAI.

Passing through the Land of Goshen—Its associations, ancient and modern
— The route of the Israelites—Some speculations relating to the patriarch
Joseph—The start from Suez—Adventures on the Red Sea—The
village of Tor—The pleasures of dromedary-riding—The life of the
Bedouin—The difference between the dromedary and the camel—The
Arabian horse and ass—Mishaps of desert travel—The approach to
Gebel Musa.

A PARTY having been formed to go to Mount Sinai during
the winter of 1878, I was easily persuaded to join it, as
I had never visited that celebrated mountain. We took
our departure from Cairo. It may not be uninteresting, in
passing over the land of Goshen, to give a short description
of the country once occupied by the ancient Israelites, a
few facts in their history, and some of the incidents connected
with the exodus of that people. We left on the
train for Suez, where a steamer was expected to take us
across the Red Sea. Immediately outside Cairo the solitary
obelisk at Heliopolis marks the site of the ancient city
of On, where the temple of the sun once glittered in its
morning rays, undoubtedly one of the most interesting objects
in Egypt. Joseph married the daughter of the high
priest of the temple, and as this monument stood in front
of it, the shaft must have been a familiar object to his eyes,
and thus may be said to be connected with biblical history.
While the hieroglyphics indicate that the Pyramids are
much older than this obelisk, yet the Bible nowhere mentions
them directly, and only once darkly refers to them
(Job 3: 14). Near here is also the famous old sycamore

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called the Virgin's tree. The tradition is that it sheltered
the Holy Family in its flight into Egypt, and often near it
the fate of Cairo has been decided by the sword. During
the Crusades St. Louis was taken prisoner at Manzoura
while on his march to this spot, and the Duke of Artois, his
brother, was killed. Here Kleber, in modern times, as if to
efface that defeat, conquered the Egyptians and took possession
of Cairo. In retaliation he was assassinated by a
fanatic. Here too, Tomans, the last king of those savage
freebooters, the Mamelukes, was taken prisoner, and executed
in Cairo, near a mosque at the famous old gate of the
street which leads to the Citadel. Mounting the débris at
Heliopolis and looking directly across the wavy green plain
before it, and over the Nile to the opposite side, a clump
of date trees is seen. This is the village of Embâbeh, and
marks the spot where Napoleon fought the battle of the
Pyramids with the Mamelukes. Carrying the eye along the
horizon to the south, the great Pyramid of Cheops is in
splendid view, whence you have the 4000 years looking down
upon Napoleon's battle. We soon come to the ruins of
Tel-el-Yahoodeh (the mound of the Jews), noted as the site
of Onion, where the son of Onanias the high priest built a
temple modelled after that at Jerusalem, obtaining authority
to do so from a liberal Ptolemy. Thirty miles farther we
are at the ruins of the ancient city of Bubastis, now called
Tell Basta, the seat of power of the twenty-second dynasty
of the Pharaohs, the city from which Shishak began the expedition
which resulted in the capture of Jerusalem and the
bringing of the holy vessels from the temple, 798 B.C. To
this site and a short distance beyond, the fertile land extends,
and now the water of the new canal to Ismailia
passes on its way, charged with the fertilizing alluvium of
the Nile, to make fruitful the ancient land of Goshen, and
open navigation, closed for so many centuries, between the
Nile and the Red Sea. Starting from Cairo, it taps the
two seas near the centre of the Suez Canal, and thus

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realizes the idea which puzzled the brain of the greatest
among the Pharaohs and all his successors, and only now
consummated by the government of Egypt. The cana
just completed from the Nile at Cairo to the canal of Suez
will open in time a very rich country, and gradually but
certainly make ancient Goshen as fertile as in the olden
time. By impregnating the sands with its fertilizing
alluvium the Nile will in a few years make it again blossom
as the rose.

Near Bubastis are the ruins of Tel-el-Kebir, in the
opinion of many archæologists the Pithom of the Bible,
where Joseph and Jacob met, and the spot where recently
the English crushed the National party of Egypt which had
risen against Tewfik and his allies. There is much more
diversity of opinion as to where the city of Rameses was
located. Tradition places it, and the world seems to have
settled down to the conclusion that it was at the other end
of an ancient canal, that ran from Pithom to the Red Sea,
near the present city of Ismailia, which lies on the western
side of Lake Timsah; the site is called Masamah, and is
twenty-eight miles south-west of Ismailia. It was here and
in the country adjacent that Moses, the experienced general
as well as sage, gathered his people for their famous
march (Ex. 12: 37; Num. 33: 3–5), taking what is known
as the Wady Tawarak, just beyond the present city of
Suez, and near which the crowning miracle occurred.
Though Herr Brugsch, the great archæologist and linguist,
advances a very striking theory, which will be noticed
farther on, it is difficult to shake the faith of those who accept
the route which tradition for so many thousands of
years has marked out to be the true one, a conclusion arrived
at by a careful collation of facts, which reciprocally support
while they fully explain one another. The new theorists,
on the contrary, affirm that the city of Rameses was located
where the city of San or Zoan now lies, formerly the site
of the old city of Tanis, near the Mediterranean Sea.

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Brugsch Bey infers, from the hieroglyphics on two statues
found at the site of Tanis, that Rameses II. gave his name
to this town, and farther eastward there are monuments
upon which are read “Thuka” or “Thukut,” the same,
he thinks, as “Succoth” in the Bible, the first camp of the
Israelites; and he places Pithom, the treasure city, on the
route to Migdol, their second camp. A papyrus in the
British Museum contains the name of Katom, which he
thinks was Etham; and thus he takes the chosen people
from camp to camp. The Israelites crossed the isthmus
over the marshes which lie between the Red Sea and the
Mediterranean, near a place now called Kantara, the usual
road to Syria. His argument is strengthened by the fact
that here lie the great Serbonian bogs, which Egyptian
fables say had swallowed up whole armies while marching
along the coast. The names of Strabo and Diodorus are
given as authority for these fables, and they speak of this
country as at times covered with water to a considerable
depth. Brugsch fortifies his opinion with numerous facts
and historical interpretations of the Egyptian monuments,
which prove to him that it was here that Pharaoh and his
host met their fate, not by waters from the Red Sea, but
by the waves of the Mediterranean. His brochure is ingenious,
able, and learned, and is well worthy of study.
Mariette Bey, another Egyptologist, who was in charge of
the antiquities of Egypt, thinks it probable that Joseph
came hither under one of the shepherd kings, and his being
Semitic, like these Pharaohs, explains his appointment as
prime minister. This naturally leads to the conclusion
that through him occurred many of the vast changes in the
prosperity of Egypt, felt even in the reign of Rameses II.
(Sesostris), the one who “knew not Joseph,” and in that
of his thirteenth son and successor, Menephtheh. It has
been settled among Egyptologists that the latter king was
the Pharaoh of the Exodus, though his tomb has been
found at Bab-el-Malouk instead of at the bottom of the

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Red Sea or of the Serbonian marsh. Mariette thinks, with
Champollion, that the treasure city of Rameses of the Bible
is the same as the present site of San, the same fixed upon
by Brugsch Bey. These are the views of the greatest
hieroglyphic scholars of the present day. They have verified
these facts from investigations among the historical
ruins of Egypt, and from them the hieroglyphists are continuing
the rich harvest of truth in these latter days.
Where before there was scarcely any information gleaned
to show that Joseph or Jacob were ever in Egypt, Brugsch
Bey in his “Exodus” presents much that is confirmatory
of the touching history of the patriarch recounted in the
Book of Genesis.

It is difficult at this distance of time, though we have to
some extent the recorded history of the administration of
the patriarch Joseph, to decide with any certainty in what
consisted the extraordinary policy which many writers
have assumed led to the great prosperity of Egypt under
that renowned prime minister. If it was the hoarding of
the grain during the famine, of which the inspired writers
have given us an account, until it became a monopoly in
the granaries of the Pharaoh, it would, according to the
ideas of our day, be considered a cruel visitation upon the
people. It would be questionable policy for a despot to
compel his people to sell all their grain, and when necessity
was upon them to force that very people to give their
money, then their lands, and finally their bodies, in return
for the very grain they had sold. It was simply committing
robbery under tue guise of law, and reducing the people
to servitude. When Joseph said, “There yet remain
your liberties, sell them to the king,” he forced so monstrous
an alternative on the starving wretches that this
worthy minister of the benevolent king and his philanthropic
schemes are not entitled to the least credit. Most
writers have measured the prosperity of Egypt by the magnitude
and number of her structures and her many destructive

Head of Menephthah, the Pharaoh of the Exodus.

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wars. Possibly to attain this enviable distinction it
was the policy of Joseph to enslave the people and thus
enable his sovereign to erect great palaces, temples, and
monuments, and to send out huge armies “to overthrow
kingdoms and destroy the cities thereof,” of which doings
the history is visible in their ruins even to this day. We
find it pictured and engraved upon their walls and monuments,
that they were constructed by slaves and prisoners
of war for the glory of the prince and the worship of idols,
particular pains being taken to emphasize the fact that these
gigantic works were all done under the taskmasters and the
lash. I confess, with all the lights before me, I have little respect
for the assumed enlightened policy, much less for the
greatness, of the patriarch Joseph and the king he served.

The road now followed passes by the pretty little French
built town of Ismailia, the home of Lesseps when in Egypt.
It lies on the western border of Lake Timsah, which since
the cutting of the canal has been filled by the two seas, and
forms a part of the canal. At Suez our party embarked in
an open boat of twenty tons for a place called Tor, a distance
of 140 miles down the dangerous coast of the Red
Sea, where at this season heavy storms are encountered.
We had been promised a steamer, but it did not come. I
was persuaded, against my judgment, to take the small
boat, with a party of two others and our servants. Entering
upon the waste of waters, in the dim distance eastward
could be faintly discerned a beautiful clump of palms, with
a range of sandy mountains in the background. These
palms mark the spot where the pilgrims of to-day slake
their thirst at Moses' wells, like the Israelites in their day.
Our Mussulmans prostrated themselves toward the tomb of
the Prophet, muttering their fanatical petition for seventy
houris promised with such questionable generosity. Soon
we saw the majestic range of mountains on the peninsula,
of which Mount Sinai (Gebel Musa), the object of our
voyage, was the most prominent.

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During the first night in our small boat we had a storm.
The excitement of scudding through the water at racing
pace was somewhat heightened by the possibility of going
any moment to the bottom. What added still more to this
anticipation was the prayer of the Bedouin who steered our
boat, and who was heard in his frequent calls upon Allah to
save him. He hoped that Allah would give him the houris
that Mahomet promised; but stopping suddenly, as if a
bright vision had passed before him, he said that he had a
beautiful houri in this world and if it pleased Allah he
would like to stay with her a little longer. As we lay seasick
in our frail boat upon this stormy night, I thought
this surpassed all the foolish things I had done in my
life.

At last the storm abated, and we passed Cape Aboo
Zelimeh, where a sort of wooden hut is in sight, marking the
tomb of an Arab saint. It is a singular fact that the more
filthy he can contrive to make himself and the less clothing
he can wear, the more holy the saint is in the eyes of the
Moslem. One of these miserable objects gives his name to
this cape. In consideration of having safely weathered the
storm, our ries (captain) ordered a fête, consisting of coffee
and pipes. While regaling ourselves, the customary cup
of coffee having been set aside to be cast into the sea to
propitiate the saint, the ries in full Arab dress, cast a wistful
eye at the cup, and thinking it too full for the saint, his
Arab taste for coffee overcame his fanaticism. Thinking it
at best but a pious fraud, he swallowed half of the contents,
and then, with great solemnity consigned the rest to the
waves.

Tor consists of a miserable little hamlet of three or four
Arab houses and a strongly built Greek church for religion
and defence. The shore in front is lined with shells, and
much red coral is gathered here. It is the site of an old
Roman fort, the walls and bastions of which are so crumbling
and sunburnt that the ruins hardly reveal its original

215

purpose. It was not long before the usual haggling for
camels and dromedaries commenced with the Bedouins,
who were prevented from overreaching us by the military
governor, himself somewhat awed by the official aspect of
our party. He had lived in this solitary place for many
years. Chickens, sheep, and goats shared his house with
him and his harem. Upon the arrival of our party it was
necessary to drive out some of these animals in order to
welcome us into his “Salam-lick.” The odor of the place
not being fragrant, we hurried through coffee and pipes and
pitched our tents by the sea, some distance from this high-flavored
family. Mounting our dromedaries on the desert
saddle, the most uncomfortable invention ever designed to
torment man, we started. We encamped for the night a
few miles from Tor, at the well of El Haide, pleasantly
situated among gardens of palm-trees. The Bedouin in
these deserts scorns the labor of civilized man, and, like the
Indian of North America, cannot be tamed. Possessing a
like dignity, he is exceedingly amiable, and can be induced
to behave himself by very little money. He gossips and
laughs, and is by no means a savage unless fired by fanaticism.
Content to pitch his low woollen tent in the open
desert, he never thinks of sheltering it with a tree or rock,
though both may be convenient. Nominally an Egyptian,
if asked why he does not settle down and till the soil, he
tells you he can never consent to make soldiers of his children.
With the fellah, the Egyptian peasant, this is the
crowning act of human misery. Once under the yoke, he
never leaves it; home, children, family ties are alike
ignored by the remorseless military power. No wonder the
Bedouin Arab dreads the blessings of civilization. Those
with us were without their tents or families. It was after
dark, and they were soon grinding wheat between two
stones, as the Mexicans do, preparatory to making their
solitary meal, perhaps without salt, and with only the few
herbs or roots they happen to find upon the desert. They

216

crouched around the scanty fagot fire, for it was cold, their
camel's long neck between them and his nose at the same
fire too. Thus camel and master passed the night. Such
is the life of the wild man of the desert. If one accepts the
distinctions of Pliny adopted by Buffon, where two species
of animals are marked by nature with certain permanent
peculiarities, there cannot be found such an animal as a
camel in Egypt or in the surrounding deserts. Unlike the
Bactrian, there is no animal of this kind to be seen with
two humps; you never see or hear of but one. Consequently
all these animals are of the dromedary species.
The name camel is universally applied to the animal with
one hump in this country, and it is difficult to draw any
distinction between it and the dromedary, also with one,
the latter being only considered a peculiar breed. There
is scarcely an Arab over these broad deserts who has ever
heard of the Bactrian camel. The name gammeel (camel)
is that by which he designates the most common beast
of burden he has—slow and patient, of great size and
strength, used in cities and on deserts for heavy loads, capable
of great endurance, of living upon the coarse food found
upon the deserts, and of going a long time without water.

The one of graceful and delicate form, rapid in its motion,
smaller and of easier gait, is called by the Arab hadjim,
and by us dromedary. There are others seen among the
Bedouins, stouter and shorter, with more and longer hair
of a pale red. We have often seen one of these on the
trackless wastes, where there is no living thing, patiently
moving with the rich treasures of the East hooked on his
back and his master treading by his side in perfect confidence.
Were it not that nature had fitted him to endure
the heat and sand, without food and water, it would be impossible
to cross these immense wastes which separate the
human family. Besides such valuable qualities, they are
also uncommonly intelligent animals, and are said to be
sensitive to injustice, and for the purpose of avenging a

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wrong will wait a year, as General Twiggs used to say
of the mule, to get a good kick at you.

No one but the Arab will eat camel's flesh, but he considers
it a dainty. Camel's milk is his food, and out of the
hair he makes his tents, carpets, and clothing.

Having travelled over Syria, Palestine, Egypt, and parts
of Arabia and Abyssinia, I will say something about the
horse and ass of these Eastern countries. The pureblooded
Arabian is still found in great numbers elsewhere
in the East, but Egypt has lost him. The greater cultivation
of the land, the destruction of the Mamelukes, those
savage freebooters who laid waste the land and who
boasted in their horses the blood of those of the Prophet,
and the fatal diseases which of late have swept away thousands,
have confined the few that are left to the stables of
the Khedive and of his family, and a very few rich Pachas,
or have driven them into the desert. These hot countries
seem to produce a beautiful, nervous horse, with clean
limbs, small head and ears, wide nostrils, intelligent and
bright eyes, silky mane and tail, great bottom and vigor.
Though the stallion alone is used, he is so gentle that he
never kicks or bites. Some think he takes his habits from
the people around him, who being under a “strong government”
are very amiable. If the horse is so elegant an
animal in these heated, sterile wastes, his companion, the
ass, also thrives. Found wild in Nubia, he attains great
beauty and spirit there, and only degenerates as he advances
into colder northern climates. If the Arabian horse
is not injured when transplanted, it is because he is
caressed, and more attention is given in the modification of
the breed by a care which is neglected in the others. By
the lavishing of minute attention upon the one, he becomes
acclimated in all his beauty, while the other, patient and
gentle, becomes by ill-treatment an ungainly drudge.

Equal care of him and attention to his breeding would
make him the splendid animal so much admired in the

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East. The ass often attains nearly the height of the horse,
and frequently sells at a higher price. Travellers in Egypt
are always struck by the animal's well-set head, bright
eyes, form, and speed. Like the camel, he will go a long
time without water and live upon the commonest food.
Capable of greater endurance than the horse, asses are more
used for long journeys over the deserts, and are often seen
with camels passing over these vast solitudes. The saddle
used on them has a protuberance in front which gives the
rider an even and agreeable seat. Followed by an Arab
boy who keeps the beast at a brisk trot with a sharp stick,
the tourist prefers him to any other means of locomotion
for sight-seeing in Cairo. When the Empress Eugénie was
here she honored one, and the amiable simplicity of the
Emperor of Brazil induced him from choice and convenience
to make frequent use of this easy-gaited little animal.
Even at this day, when carriages are so common, you see
bright-eyed women folded in a black silk covering like a
piece of goods, riding en amazone upon superbly caparisoned
asses of high value, preceded by a eunuch mounted
on a beautiful-limbed Arabian, glittering in the richest gold
and silver embroidered trappings.

But to our journey. Since leaving camp, though on a
plain nearly the whole day, there had been a gradual ascent
toward a sand mountain in our front, the greater chain
looming up in the south-west. After a short ride we
camped on the edge of the mountain at the first water we
had met. On leaving Tor we were promised a rapid transit
over barren wastes, and the time mentioned in which we
were to do it was two days. Our Bedouin made it four.
“The poor Bedouin and the poor camels” is the eternal
plea with all travellers. We heard it throughout our trip,
but had to submit. Next day, while mounted on one of
those amiable homars (donkeys) which have just been discussed,
an accident occurred. I changed the camel for the
ass, because of the precipitous ascent before us, my long

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eared steed being a powerful animal and pretty sure of his
footing. Losing it, however, on this occasion, he took a
five-foot tumble and dragged down not only the rider, but
four Bedouins, who on these dangerous roads rush to the
rescue as quick as lightning. On getting from under my
animal, I took it for granted I was hurt, being the heaviest
in the party, and was surprised at not having even
a scratch, while all the others, including the homar, were
injured. After that I mounted my dromedary. This is
accomplished as follows: A Bedouin by divers jerks first
succeeds in coaxing or forcing the animal down on his
knees, with a snap like that of a double-bladed jack-knife.
While one holds his head away to keep him from biting,
another ties his forelegs together, and then to secure them
stands upon them, inviting you to mount and fix yourself
in the execrable saddle. In the mean time the dromedary
is uttering the most agonizing cries of distress. Suddenly
the Bedouin loosens the strap and bounds from the
animal's legs; another terrible grunt and you discover that
you are on the top of this living machine, waiting patiently
further developments, with your hands grasping the horns
in front and rear. The animal raises his fore quarters with a
bound, and this sticks the front horn into your stomach,
while you are pressing upon it to keep in a horizontal position;
that done, up go the hind quarters with another jerk,
and this time the rear horn sticks you in the back. You
are only too glad to get the rear punch in token of the
completed business. While the animal was opening his
hinges I was thoroughly impressed with the dizzy height
of several hundred feet. It is best not to strike these beasts
too much, for if beaten they are certain to stand still and
deliberately turn their long necks and try to bite a piece
out of your legs. It then becomes necessary to stick to
them in order to avoid their fury, until by gently patting
they are made to move on amicably again. Their walk is
rough, but they trot with comparative ease, carrying the

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head up and tail straight in the air and looking very gay as
they rapidly move along. With your sack of water and
leather thong they can without much inconvenience travel
from 50 to 80 miles a day. But in making this swift passage
through the heated air reflected from the burning
sands you are literally roasted, and this rubbing and twisting
your loins and galling your hands in the effort to hold
on makes dromedary-riding a painful operation to those not
accustomed to it.

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CHAPTER XVIII.
THE HOLY MOUNTAIN.

Arrival at the Greek convent of St. Catharine—The ensemble of the scene
—A sketch of one of the oldest monasteries in the world—Founded by
the Emperor Justinian—Successive endowments by monarchs through
intervening times—The camp by the convent wall—A thunderstorm at
Sinai—Adventure with a jolly friar—Description of the convent buildings—The
treasures of the chapel and shrine—Chapel of the Burning
Bush—The charnel-house—The ascent of Mt. Sinai—What the Governor
of North Carolina said to the Governor of South Carolina—Legends of
the mountain—View from the mountain-top—The ancient manna—The
valley of Feiran—The rival of Gebel Musa—Extreme healthfulness of
the Sinaitic Peninsula—Ancient mines—Bas-reliefs and hieroglyphics—
Arrival again at Suez.

ANOTHER two days' travel, and we climbed a sandstone
mountain road through a desolate waste, destitute of vegetation
on every side. The crumbling mountains had clean-cut
peaks, like the buttes on the North American plains.
Over this void to the convent we saw neither bird, reptile, nor
any living thing, until, near Mount Sinai, a little bird with
white head and tail and black body flew across our path,
when our imaginings taken from the surroundings were
startled as though by an apparition. Our last day's ride
before reaching the Greek convent at the base of Gebel
Musa took us over the Pass of the Winds, which route it is
supposed apart of the chosen people took, while the greater
number chose a long and better road around. This road is
difficult, rocky, and dangerous; and when thrown, as is
often the case, upon the neck of your painstaking animal
carefully picking his way along the narrow paths over precipices,
you fear looking down, it being at best difficult to

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keep an equilibrium. It was on this day that we came in
sight of the lofty peak of Gebel Musa (Mount Moses), on
and around which tradition fixes the places where the momentous
events so graphically described in the Bible took
place. Nothing could be more exciting than our first full
view of the mountain and of the celebrated Greek convent
of St. Catharine, which is nestled among these wild and
desolate rocks immediately at the base of Mount Sinai. I
can never forget how the mountain's clear outline broke
upon us, towering above all others, glistening in the morning
sun, and surrounded on all sides by the uttermost conceivable
desolation. Everything impressed the mind with
a great past. The mountain and valley have their wonderful
story to tell. Upon the summit, according to biblical
tradition, Moses tarried under divine inspiration. Here
the Law was given direct from Jehovah, while the valley
beneath was filled with the chosen people, awed by the fiat
that went forth in the thunders of heaven. On this scene,
so awfully consecrated, unimaginable desolation reigned.
As we neared the convent the eye was relieved by the sight
of green trees—the lofty cypress and, strange to say, the
orange-tree with its golden fruit, and the pomegranate—in
the long garden of the convent, stretching out toward us as
if to welcome us to its shade. This garden, filled with
plants, vegetables, and flowers, is tended with great care
by the monks who inhabit the old convent—time-honored
recluses, whose history dates back to a very early Christian
epoch, and who are only moved from their lethargy when a
party like ours journeys so far, to visit the venerated scene
close by. Soon the time-worn outer walls came in sight.
These surround and hide the inner buildings. All we could
see were the watch-towers upon the heights. Huge walls
they are, mostly built to guard against the torrents in winter,
which sometimes sweep down in immense volume,
carrying portions of both the building and the mountain
with them. They were also intended to guard against the

The Plain before Sinai, where the Israelites were Encamped.

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incursions of enemies, and were erected by the Emperor
Justinian nearly a thousand years ago. In the changes of
centuries armed hordes have sometimes directed their fury
against the venerable pile. Then the outer gate closes,
and a chance visitor would have to be hauled up a great
many feet through an inclosed way. Upon the occasion of
our visit its portals were thrown open to us with a hearty
welcome. We witnessed here that which is of daily occurrence—the
feeding of large numbers of Bedouins, Mussulmans
who are only too glad to accept Christian hospitality
to keep them from starving. It is a traditional policy of
the monks to keep on friendly terms with the Ishmaelites.
Their uninterrupted charity makes these their fast friends,
and as the convent is richly endowed it never fails to perpetuate
this happy fraternization.

We soon pitched our tent in the beautiful garden of the
holy place, and were visited by Monsieur Gregorio, the
principal, a good-looking, reserved, and dignified monk, to
whom we had letters from his patriarch at Cairo. As usual
their hospitality was bountiful, payment therefor being
left to our discretion on leaving. Though pressed to enter
the convent, we camped out. Though the climate at this
season is often dry, on this occasion it looked threatening.
One ought always to be prepared here for a storm in winter,
as it comes, sometimes as early as the time of our
arrival, with great violence. About midnight the gathering
of the black clouds made it as dark as Erebus, and soon the
floodgates were opened, and such a terrific storm set in as
is seldom witnessed in any other portion of the globe. It
was the first rain since the previous winter, and pent-up
nature, seeming angry with the eternal sun, visited its
wrath amid the loudest peals of thunder. Crash followed
crash, accompanied by vivid lightning, the thunder reverberating
from mountain to mountain until one could
imagine he saw Mount Sinai lit up just as it was upon the
day when the Mosaic law is said to have been given to

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man. If the thunder then was anything like what we
heard, it must have made the chosen people quake. This
splendid scene was agreeable beyond expression, and fixed
forever in our minds Mount Sinai and its surroundings. At
the same time the roar of the torrent on either side of us
was distinctly heard as it rushed past carrying earth and
rock with it. In the midst of the deluge we saw by the
flashes of lightning a hooded monk in the dim distance,
groping his way on the side of the dangerous mountain, at
the risk of being swept away by the increasing waters, holding
in his hand a lantern to guide him. He soon came to
us with the warning of impending danger. Just then
another peal crashed, which made the earth tremble and
caused our jolly monk to take a seat inside our tent with a
sudden jerk, as if the tumult had scared him a little. We
proposed to talk over the subject, but he thought it dangerous
to play with forked lightning. He soon consented
to be warmed with a little creature comfort, for considering
the storm I suggested to him that it was no harm even for
a monk to indulge in a little brandy, as St. Paul says, for
the stomach's sake. The reverend brother wisely thought
so too, and he and I discussed his mission and kept the
chilly blast off at the same time. It was long after midnight,
and he begged us to enter the convent, fearing the
rapidly increasing waters might sweep us away. But as we
regaled ourselves and enjoyed a pleasant talk, the holy man
forgot the waters and the tempest, and as we smoked and
talked of the pleasures of life, our friar proved himself a
good fellow, a jolly boon companion of an old-time
anchorite, such as Scott introduces to us in his novels.
Having a large Oriental tent protecting us from the
elements, we promised, if daylight found us alive, to enter
the sacred portals and remain during our stay.

The massive walls bear the scars of centuries. Built close
to the holy mountain, the convent has an abundant supply
of water, an element specially important in the desert.

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Within its sacred inclosure is the place where stood the
burning bush, still sacred in the eyes of the faithful. Here
the Empress Helena built a chapel to commemorate the
holiness of the place. The broad entrance soon gives place
to low portals and narrow passages, on entering which you
seem to be winding up into some old baronial castle or
threading your way into the ancient Egyptian Labyrinth.
Then you commence mounting venerable and curiously
wrought stairs and enter inclosed ways in your tortuous
windings, the architecture of different centuries revealing
itself during your progress. The medley of buildings, without
form or apparent plan, hangs like the nests of birds on
the side of a craggy mountain. As you advance you meet
monks of all grades and ages, apparently intent, in their hurried
walk, upon something important, and yet you cannot
imagine what, except that you know that the larger portion
of their time is taken up in the solemn duty of prayer and
worship. During our stay this was the only occupation of
the monks, and the feeling impressed me with great force
that these isolated beings, who voluntarily separate themselves
from the human family and live in this worse than
howling desert, have indeed made a miserable waste of life
if they never get to heaven. You hear their pitiful plaints
all night, and are often awakened toward morning, when
sleep is sweetest, by the ringing of bells and the horrible
screeching of their song and prayer continuing from their
midnight vigils. We have already referred to the assaults
of man upon this ancient convent, and while climbing to its
outer wall there were to be seen near the top and running
at intervals around the immense structure, numerous little
embrasures into which were poked small iron cannon about
three feet long, sitting majestically and appearing very
fierce upon their diminutive carriages. More dangerous to
those inside than any one beyond, it is doubtful whether a
monk could be found bold enough to level one of these
frail pieces. They are as ancient as the hills, not even

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modern enough for their patterns to be found in the
museums for the curious. The conclusion is that this effort
of the monks to make war, being harmless, is only another
pious fraud, to play upon the credulity of the Bedouins,
who no doubt are impressed with the destructiveness of
these terrible engines of death, high up in the air, sticking
out of the sides of the massive walls.

Now we are on the top of the convent, church, and fortification,
and on each side, being in a gorge, we can almost
touch the mountains, one of them being Mount Sinai,
called by the Arabs Gebel Musa, whose peak is 7379 feet
above the level of the sea. From the top you look down
into this fabric of a thousand years and see the Greek
monks, who under the magic power of religion have regularly
succeeded each other in all these many years, immured
here even in this enlightened time. It is not to be wondered
at that, many centuries back, in a more superstitious
age, there should have been great numbers of these recluses
who filled the convent's numerous cells, and that thousands
of hermits were persuaded that they had solved the problem
of getting to heaven simply by occupying every glen, dell,
craggy hill, and valley in this neighborhood; also that
there should have been many incidents and stories of these
departed saints handed down for the edification of holy
men of the present day. On the summit of this house of
ages we were introduced into a neatly fitted-up chamber
and salon especially set aside for guests. Wine and coffee
with an agreeable collation were placed before us, and the
further proffer of hospitality. Next day, the storm continuing,
was devoted to exploration of the convent. Entering
the church, which is located in its centre, we found
the first view of its interior handsome and imposing.
Walking upon an extremely rich mosaic floor, in fine
preservation and not very old, on either side of its aisle
you are attracted by numerous columns, very ancient, with
singular caps and cornices. The walls are ornamented with

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pictures of celebrated Greek saints. These were decorated
and preserved with religious care according to their ecclesiastical
style. Approaching the altar, you are pleased with
a beautiful mosaic of the Saviour in transfiguration surrounded
by Moses, Elias, Peter, John, and James. Behind
the altar on either side are burnished silver and gold
coffined effigies of St. Catharine, the patron saint of the
convent, who died a martyr to her faith at Alexandria early
in the Christian era, and whose skull and hand the monks
tell you were transplanted hither by a miracle, and are religiously
preserved upon their altar. On these gorgeous
silver coffins lie the splendidly jewelled effigies of St. Catharine,
half raised and attached as far as the waist, after the
manner of the Greek Church. Imagine an exquisitely
beautiful woman, about half her person in relief and painted
to simulate life, with the roseate hue of flesh and blood,
and all the color the artist can give her, adorned with
diamonds, emeralds, and other precious stones, a rich
diadem over her superb forehead, and a necklace of
diamonds around her well-turned neck! Nothing can exceed
the beauty of her bust and waist, the one adorned
with a precious emerald of great size, and the other with a
ceinture of large brilliants. Her rich dress glitters with
gems, her hands are folded as though in life, and upon one
of her fingers shines a gorgeous diamond. The tout ensemble
dazzles you with its magnificence. Time and place
considered, I think I never saw anything more beautiful than
these costly and extraordinary pictures adorned with their
rare jewels. Both these simulacra were royal gifts—one
from the Empress Catharine, the other from Alexander,
late Emperor of all the Russias. They are kept covered
with a golden cloth except when pilgrims like ourselves are
entertained. Then, with pious care and great solemnity,
they are unveiled for you to admire, under the flash of
many brilliant lights. After looking at them we turned
and gazed at the monks who were with us, who, with glassy

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eyes and shaggy beard and hair, had a wild and furtive
look.

One of the interesting sights of this convent is the
charnel-house, where repose the bones of departed monks,
which stands outside and apart from the monastery. This
repository the stranger is allowed to see if he has the desire.
Back of this interesting sanctuary you pass through a portal
into another, where, like Moses, the visitors are requested
to take off their shoes, for like him they are about to tread
upon holy ground. Soon they step upon a rich Persian
carpet and into the Chapel of the Burning Bush, the precise
spot being pointed out where this momentous historical
object once stood. It is now covered with burnished
silver and gold, and lighted from richly embossed gold and
silver lamps, which give, after all, a very poor representation
of that effulgence of which the inspired pen of Moses has
written.

Passing from these interesting scenes we behold the
pictures of the Emperor Justinian and his wife, the
Empress Theodosia, the emperor having been the original
builder and benefactor of the convent. Near the church,
inside the convent, and preserved with particular care, is a
small Mussulman mosque. To our wondering question
how it came there, where a strange God was worshipped, the
smiling answer was given that in the olden time they permitted
Moslems to pray to Mahomet within their sacred
convent, to show their tolerance for other religions. But
the general impression in seeing this curious relic of the
past is that if its true history were known it would be that
this tolerance of the Christian for the Mahometan was inspired
more by policy tinged with wholesome fear than by
the mild virtue of charity. In their library are some old
manuscripts dating as far back as the fourth century, though
not many of value. The best are kept in secret with their
valuables. There is, however, a copy of the Codex Sinaiticus
here, said to be a manuscript of the Bible of great

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value, which had remained hidden among the musty rolls
of the convent for ages until the famous scholar Tischendorf
unearthed and published it to the civilized world.
Calling upon the amiable Superior, we found him far down
in the lower regions, luxuriously ensconced in a richly furnished
saloon, where it would be difficult for a ray of the
sun to penetrate, and a man without a guide would find it
difficult to ferret him out. After the Eastern custom, his
apartment was surrounded by richly covered divans, and a
soft Persian carpet covered his floor. There were many
articles of virtu and elegance arranged about him, indicating
a man of taste and culture. Seating us pleasantly on
the divan after mutual salaams, wine and Mocha coffee
were served, followed by jewelled pipes, and soon he
brought for our inspection the noted illuminated copy of
the New Testament which has a world-wide reputation.
Written by a monk on vellum before the art of printing was
known, it is ornamented on many pages with pen-pictures
of the Saviour and the apostles beautifully executed.
Then follows the Testament, written in gold, the cover
embossed in silver with scriptural characters. Our pleasure
at seeing this relic had scarcely given way before the refined
Superior turned over the pages of a book equally remarkable—the
Book of Psalms, written by a woman, who,
the monk told us, was St. Thecla, one of their feminine
Greek saints. This pretty evidence of pious labor is the
entire Book of Psalms compressed into six pages of writing
about four and a half inches long and three wide, exquisitely
fine and in perfect regularity, which can only be read with
a microscope. The convent garden is luxuriant with foliage
—a charming picture of life in contrast with that just seen
—an oasis in the midst of utter desolation. The weather
being fine, though piercingly cold, I began the ascent of
Mount Sinai, filled with the purpose of following the steps
of the renowned lawgiver; but before climbing many thousand
feet truth compels me to say that I was convinced

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that to a patriarch of eighty years of age the ascent to the
top was no trifling undertaking, particularly if he attempted
the 7000 feet on a short day. The ascent begins in a glen
twenty yards in the rear of the convent, and looking up at
it the mountain-side has the appearance of being perpendicular.
For ages the monks have been making rocky
stairs after a fashion all the way up, but the steps are so
high that it requires a tall man to mount them without
great effort. Time and floods too have made sad changes
in these so-called stairways. I venture to say that any pilgrim
with my weight to carry calls very often in vain for
Moses to help him on the weary way. Before completing
the ascent I had struck a bargain and made a fast friend of
the good-natured and jolly monk who guided me. As he
and I, unknown to the rest of the human family, at each of
the holy places where there were gushing springs, took a
drink of the limpid waters, it will not do to say that they
were mixed with anything else, for the monk's sake; but
truth compels the confession that I had a good-sized flask
of old eau de vie with which to renew flagging strength, but
not to tempt the pious man, since any indulgence might, if
found out, bring him under discipline. But he was a giant
of a man, and often do I recollect with pleasure that after
refreshing ourselves at these fountains he renewed his
herculean efforts in a way which inspired immense respect.
I can say in confidence that we never failed at these many
places to renew our friendly relations, and to hope that all
those sainted pilgrims who had gone before us were in unalloyed
bliss, the memories of many of whom were embalmed
in the sympathizing hearts of the occupants of St.
Catharine's Convent.

After toiling for some time and coming to the first spring
with only breath enough to call a halt, I repeated the old
joke between the Governors of North Carolina and South
Carolina. This seemed to strike his fancy, and his reply
was that such evidence of wisdom greatly elevated American

231

can statesmen in his esteem. This spring was the fountain
of Moses, and tradition says the great sage watered here
the flocks of Jethro, his father-in-law. The monk being
orthodox we ignored Moses, and sitting on a rock together,
close by the gushing stream, as it came out from under a
huge boulder surrounded by beautiful maiden-hair fern, it
was proposed that we should drink, in silence, of the pure
water to the memory of Jethro, the statesman of the
desert. In the course of this interesting episode, having incidentally
mentioned another famous personage who dwelt
here, known in the annals below as St. Stephen the cobbler,
whose skeleton was preserved in their charnel-house
arrayed in gorgeous vestments, and being pleased with the
opportunity of continuing the rest, I soon learned that the
saint was accustomed to patch up weary sinners on their
way, which gave him the familiar name mentioned. As
the monk did not consider it sacrilegious, we agreed to
mention this saint of the calendar, St. Stephen the cobbler,
in our next libation, and we drank accordingly. The
good-natured guide, under the influence of the exhilarating
air of the mountains, went forward with great elasticity, so
that in a short time we had ascended several thousand feet
and seated ourselves in a pretty little chapel among the
rocks, this time erected to a holy female saint. The monk
informed me that she passed their convent one bright,
beautiful day, and finding the lazy monks terribly worried
by those industrious little insects commonly called fleas, she
charitably took mercy upon them and miraculously banished
the pests forever from their convent. I complained that
passing travellers were so stirred up by these little creatures
that they thought it necessary to renew the miracle again.
That, he said, was a slander upon the pious sanctity of St.
Catharine's Convent; but they had great numbers of bedbugs,
and it was these biters that reminded them of the
others. Hoping that a miracle might lessen this grievance,
we left this hallowed place and our seat by the spring, and

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under the agreeable inspiration climbed to an archway in
the mountain where our old acquaintance St. Stephen of
several thousand feet below used to sit in the olden time
and for a trifle shrive the numerous pilgrims. This favorite
saint coming to our aid, we soon glided up the rocks ahead
and came to a small plain where stood a solitary cypress-tree,
the melancholy relic of a fine garden. At this spot was
another chapel, where we made a cup of coffee, which
helped to keep off the chill of the fierce blast. The monk
said it was here that Elijah and Elias came, and to prove
the truth of the tradition quoted I Kings 19: 8, 9.

This is a small plateau which answers the description of
the place where Moses left Joshua and the elders of Israel
when he made his final ascent to the top of the mount, and
where he expected them to remain until his return. While
here they beheld that wonderful sight, “the God of
Israel, and under his feet as it were a paved work of a sapphire
stone, and as it were the body of heaven in its clearness.”
In the valley of Rahah, which is at the base of the
mountain, it was impossible for the multitude to see anything
except the “devouring fire,” but from this plateau,
immediately under the peak, Joshua and the elders had a
better view of the magnificent vision, and the fire girding
around the mount. The peak of Gebel Musa was so surrounded
by other peaks that Moses could not see the multitude
in the valley of Rahah, nor the golden calf, nor the
dancing there, but only heard the shouting of the people.
Though the multitude might have seen the peaks before,
after they saw the brilliant fire and glory extending into
the heavens from it, it became so enveloped as “it burned
with fire in the midst of heaven with darkness, clouds, and
thick darkness,” that it was impossible to see it.

Somewhat refreshed, though terribly cold, our limbs
stiffened and worn with fatigue, I began to despair of ever
gaining the height. Commencing again, we came to the
footprint of Mahomet's camel. It was distinctly and handsomely

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engraved in the solid granite rock, not far from the
spot where Elijah turned back as unworthy to tread the holy
ground above. Finally, with the aid of my companion, I succeeded
in reaching the summit, and taking the traditional
seat of Moses, the monk quoted the Scripture of the occurrences
which happened here. While seated on this
summit of Mount Sinai (Gebel Musa, the highest peak)
we took within the scope of our vision the whole range of
rugged mountains, of which immediately under us was
Mount Sufsâfeh, believed to be the Mount of the Law.
All these mountains lie in a circle of two or three miles,
and form part of the same mountain upon which we now
stood.

On the north, east, and west are valleys which separate
them from the surrounding mountains. On the south
these peaks are separated from the lofty peak of Gebel
Catharine by another valley. Sloping toward its northern
peak is the plain El Rahah, two miles long and one mile
broad, gradually rising up the mountain-side, which surrounds
it. The plain and mountain-side are capable of
holding easily a larger number of people than any figure
yet given of the chosen people. Those who have studied
the mountains of the peninsula, both from survey and observation,
think this one, beyond any doubt, fills the requirements,
as it is easy of approach, prominent, and rises
abrupt from the plain, so that one can stand under it and
touch it. The view from this summit takes in great numbers
of peaks and craggy heights, and the scene is unrivalled
in beauty and sublimity. The visitor turns from this view
with an agreeable recollection, to hear the good man say
that where we stand was Mount Horeb, so beautifully
depicted by Moses as the place where he stood “when the
glory of the Lord passed by” (Ex. 33:22); and near
where we stood the monk knowingly pointed to the impression
of the head of Moses in the solid granite rock
when this great event occurred.

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Before descending we must not forget to say that on this
height are a small chapel and a small mosque, the Mussulman
being a believer in the Old Testament, though he makes
but little noise over it, confining his pious regards to the
Koran, which gives him such a comfortable paradise to
contemplate, and makes it easy to arrive at. He never,
for the sake of religion, cares to travel far into out-of-the-way
places. When the time for prayer comes he prostrates
himself, directs his eyes toward Mecca, calls the
name of Allah, and proclaims Mahomet his prophet. Even
here he tries not to waste his prayers without being seen of
men, and rather condemns worshipping in secret.

Having visited all the holy places requiring our stay in
the convent, we parted with the hospitable monks, the
Superior giving us some of his preserved dates gathered in
these mountains, and some of the honeyed manna upon
which the Israelites fed, gathered near here from what is
known as the shrub tarfa, called by travellers the tamarisk-tree.
Having collected what few green things are to be
found in the mountains and in the valleys, with specimens
of rock—these, with the manna and dates, were all that we
were able to take away with us. Sending our camels and
our servants on the return road through the valley of the
Wady El Sheikh, we mounted our dromedaries, and leaving
our hospitable friends to their solitude, turned in the
opposite direction, toward the Ras Sufsâfeh, on the path
skirting the valley El Rahah, in which the Israelites heard
the law. An hour's sweeping trot and another of toilsome
climbing brought us to several huge granite boulders near
the head of a small valley. They looked as though they
had been detached from Mount Sinai several thousand
years ago and had lain in this gorge for that time partly
buried in the earth. One of these immense boulders was
pointed out as the veritable rock from which Moses brought
the living water. We were all parched with thirst at the
time, and regretted to find that at this rock there was not a

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drop of water wherewith to slake it. It this was the rock,
which I doubt, here, too, another miracle is necessary.
We heard of another reputed site of the miracle in the
Fieran Valley, which we determined to visit on passing
through. On our way back we encountered our friar of
Gebel Musa, who crossed our path like a bright vision. I
was pleased to renew a pleasant recollection of the past.
He led us to another great granite rock, immediately at the
base of Ras Sufsâfeh, and our mentor with great glee
pointed to it as the renowned rock of the idol. It was
more than twenty feet in circumference, and had a huge
hole in its centre, running to a great depth. Into this hole,
he naively told us, all the gold, silver, and jewels of the
people were poured to make the golden calf. Seated on
my dromedary near this rock in the valley of El Rahah,
the monk with an air of simplicity turned toward me and
said, “Do you see that hill? It is there that Aaron sat
and watched the dancing around the golden calf.” This
valley, as I have already said, comes nearer filling all the
requisites than any other on the peninsula. It was interesting
to believe that near where we stood Moses came
after descending the mount and beheld the naked multitude
dancing around the golden calf, and that here he
dashed into pieces the stone tablets upon which the law
had been written. Hidden from him until then, he was
ignorant of what had happened (Ex. 32: 19). The traditions
of this rock and the valley were related in the same
spirit of earnestness as those of the mountain. In visiting
holy places I always carry a kindly spirit. I have thought
it the part of wisdom to leave all questions for the antiquarians
to dispute over; and on this particular occasion I
am willing to think that it was here, or near here, that the
stupendous events happened, that Moses and Elijah were
on this mountain, and that it is not improbable that St.
Paul visited it in his travels to Arabia, in the account of
which he makes plain mention of Mount Sinai (Gal. 1: 17).

236

It is an agreeable reflection to the pilgrim that he has
traversed the path over which thousands have for ages been
ascending; that he has been where the grandest figure of
that early day stood—the mighty lawgiver who proclaimed
under divine inspiration those statutes which for more than
three thousand years have been the foundation of all other
laws; that he has climbed Mount Horeb by the same path
as that followed by Elijah, whose brilliant genius stands so
marked among the prophets of the Old Testament.

Having closed our visit to all the remarkable places at
and around Mount Sinai, and feeling fully repaid for the
fatigue and exposure, we turned our faces again toward the
Red Sea. Rapidly passing the magnificent approach to
the convent called Nakb-el-Hâwi (the Pass of the Winds),
the near way that Moses and his staff took, we entered the
valley through which the multitude came, the best and
longer route. I have already spoken of our first beautiful
view of St. Catharine, the rosy summit of Mount Sinai, and
the stately cliff of Ras Safsâfeh, which overlooked other
points below. Leaving all these in the rear, we too commenced
our return on the road of the people.

The rain had not dried, and our dromedaries slipped
badly, for no animals are on wet ground so uncertain and
dangerous. Some of them fell, and the height being great,
there was always danger of breaking bones. Luckily nobody
was hurt. The next day, entering the valley of the
Feiran, we found for the first time the manna-yielding
shrub tarfa, and a village of the Bedouins with some date-trees
and sheep. There are great numbers of these tamarisk-trees
in the valley, and the manna exudes during two
months in the autumn, being quite an important article of
commerce. It is called in the Hebrew and Arabic, min
(what): “They wist not what it was.” This valley is
called the Paradise of the Bedouin, because from its extreme
fertility it will grow the date and tamarisk in spite of
all the efforts of the wild man of the desert, who for thousands

237

of years has been allied with nature in destroying this
whole peninsular region—in fact, every part of Asia and
Africa where he has a foothold. There is no question
that there are in Asia vast stretches of country, many
valleys, hills, and mountain-sides, which only require the
industry of man aided by a little science to make use of
water, the one necessary thing—which is found in springs,
rivulets, and supplied by the rains—in order to make fertile
again these desolate wastes with the terrace gardens and
cultivated valleys of the olden time. That these arid valleys
once supported a dense population, rich in flocks and
herds, is a fact engraved on the monuments of ancient
Egypt, and with more certainty stated in the Bible. Not
far from the Bedouin village in the valley of Feiran we
came to the rock to which Arab tradition points as the
Rock of Moses. Here is a spring. The valley of Feiran is
thought to be Rephidim, the land of the Amalekites (Ex.
19: 2), this being the natural approach from the sea after
the three days' march of Moses, and the first region supplying
an abundance of water. It was here that Moses
struck the first blow at his enemy which gave him final
possession of the peninsula. This valley is not far from the
base of Mount Serbal, two valleys coming into it from that
mountain. This prominent granite peak was for many
centuries the rival of Gebel Musa, in its claim to be the true
Mount Sinai, and its sides were lined with convents, the
abodes of hermits, who, it is said, were in such great numbers
in front of their cells that they looked like rabbits in
front of their holes. Careful investigations, however, settled
the point in favor of Gebel Musa. At Mount Sinai
there is abundance of water, there being no less than four
rivulets near it capable of fertilizing an extensive plain, and
enough to irrigate lands for grazing purposes. The almost
entire absence of this element from Mount Serbal and the
contracted valleys contiguous to it has established the weight
of authority against it. These are among the important

238

reasons which have induced learned observers to give up
Mount Serbal and its immense nest of mountains as the
real Mount Sinai, though the fertile valley of the Feiran is
near by. The peaks of Mount Serbal in their wild grandeur
are so sharply defined, without soil or vegetation, that few
persons are able to climb to their tops as they stand, glittering
in the clear sky of to-day. The mountain is majestically
grand, and in striking contrast with the soft and gentle
scenery of waving palms, shady acacias and tamarisks
which skirt the beautiful rill where we are now seated, the
waters of which, sparkling and limpid, flow with a musical
ripple at our feet. The Bedouins who live here are in conversation
with us while man and camel are slaking their
thirst after a long and desolate ride over the desert.
How welcome the gushing water of even a small rivulet is,
only those know who have just travelled over a weary waste
for many hours without it! To-day we commence taking
leave of the network of granite mountains, their rocky
glens and desolate valleys, with few open spaces to let us
out. The scenery as we ride along is enhanced in beauty
by the light and clear atmosphere, and the party-colored
rocks reflected in the noonday sun are very beautiful. The
climate is dry and healthy. Man lives here without disease
to extreme old age. But there is not much game—
only a few gazelles, hares, leopards, ibexes, porcupines, and
quails. Soon after leaving this valley the next attraction
is the ancient inscriptions on the eternal rock, so long an
enigma. Exhaustive researches of late have proved that
they are not Hebrew writing, as was at first thought, confirmatory
of the passage through here of the chosen people.
They are an old form of Arabic, with many of the letters
obsolete, supposed to be of an antiquity prior to the time
of Moses. The pilgrims gaze upon them in their ignorance
as one of the mysterious links connecting them with the
great past. They look old enough to have been written
by Job with his iron pen. Arriving in the sandstone region,

239

we are warned of our approach to the Red Sea again.
The transition is startling, the variegated tints of the
stone and the magical purity of the air bringing out in
great beauty streaks of white, red, blue, violet, and yellow
in exquisite combination. We encamped near the noted
turquoise mines, and toiled to a height of over 200 feet, to
be entertained on reaching them, not so much in gathering
the precious stones, an operation which requires considerable
labor, as by the beautiful rainbow veins of sandstone
in which they are found. It is here that Mariette Bey read
the hieroglyphics which give the history of the working of
these very mines by Cheops of the fourth dynasty, 4235
years B.C., and the Pharoah who constructed the great
Pyramid of Ghizeh, near Cairo. There are bas-reliefs in
these mines of Ouady Magharah picturing this great warrior
as chastising the people called in that day On (Bedouins),
who troubled the Eastern frontier of Lower Egypt.
Buying a few specimens of turquoise as they came fresh
from the mines, we gathered some of the rock of ages in
which they were imbedded, to bring home with us. The
next day the descent was abrupt. Sandstone and limestone
were mixed in peculiar and fantastical forms, so that the
imagination could picture any object in art or nature it
pleased: a pretty cottage, massive fortifications, or many-steepled
cathedrals could be conjured up. Discharging our
Bedouins and camels, we started on our eighty-mile trip before
daylight. A rain-storm, however, coming on, the boat
returned to the same old Arab saint again. Some of our
party, in despair of getting to Suez, and fearing our dwindling
supplies would fall short, thought it advisable to go
upon the desert to hunt up the Bedouins and their camels
to take us through by land. I had no idea of sharing this
folly, and advised either that we divide our supplies, pack
them on our backs and foot it for three days—the time
necessary to go through the desert, a weary way between
us and the Wells of Moses—or else, which was better, to

240

stick to the boat and take our chances of a fair wind. I
insisted that hunting Bedouins in the desert was a chase to
which I could not consent to be a party. So I called for a
division of the supplies. This settled the question, and
our boat again sailed. It had not got fairly into the middle
of the Red Sea, before there was a perfect calm, and as
the boat made no movement it was determined to hail the
first ship which came along. Three or four steamed past,
out of hailing distance, but finally a huge Dutch ship came
near enough to see and hear us. In the mean time the
ries had placed his flag at half-mast, and all our guns and
pistols were in requisition for firing minute-guns as though
we were in distress; and though the whole party made all
the noise they could, the old ship went pitching on under
steam in the calm, without deigning to take the slightest
notice, and not a living thing was to be seen from either
deck. That night a fair wind struck us, and the next
morning we took the train at Suez in time to catch that
going to Cairo, arriving there in time for dinner the same
night.

De Lesseps.

241

CHAPTER XIX.
THE SUEZ CANAL.

Historic anticipation of the Suez Canal—The considerations that deterred the
ancient Pharaoh, Necho, and the modern Pharaoh, Mehemet—Lesseps's
first conception of the canal—A project forty years in hatching—Saïd's
enthusiastic acceptance of the scheme—Ismail comes into power saddled
with Saïd's pledges and a heavy debt—The corvé or forced labor system
and its abolition at the instance of England—Ismail accepts the retrocession
of the sweet-water canal and its adjacent lands—Extraordinary
claims for indemnity—Napoleon III. as arbitrator gives a judgment of
84,000,000 francs against the Viceroy—The magnificent fêtes on the
completion of the canal—England as a factor in the present status of the
Suez.

THE connection of the Mediterranean and the Red Sea
has interested the world in all ages. As early as the time
of the great Pharaohs of the nineteenth dynasty a canal
connected Lake Timsah and the Pelusium branch of the
Nile, there being evidence of it engraved upon the walls of
the great banquet-hall in the temple of Karnak at Thebes.
About 650 years before the Christian era the Pharaoh
Necho attempted the connection, and after expending vast
sums and causing the death of many thousands of his people
he abandoned it, giving as a reason that he had consulted
the oracle, which sagely told him that if he pursued
his progressive ideas too far the Phœnicians, those famous
old mariners, would be precipitated upon him and swallow
up his country as in a vast maelstrom. His counsellor
added that Egypt with her dense population had originated
her own prosperity, and was marvellously gifted for duration,
having stood the shock of time for thousands of
years, and it was best that he should turn his progressive

242

ideas in another direction. The result was that his surplus
energy was expended in circumnavigating the continent of
Africa.

These undertakings were followed by similar schemes of
the Persians, Greeks, Romans, and Arabians, all being
limited to the connection of the Nile with the basin of the
Red Sea, to facilitate the traffic between Egypt and Arabia.
In supplying the only requirements of the age in this simple
manner they opened a navigable route between the seas.
That which antiquity did not need—a short and direct communication—became
a paramount necessity in the present
century. At an early day, after all traces of former canals
had disappeared, Mehemet Ali, an illiterate Greek Mahometan,
then Viceroy of Egypt, was besought to expend
the life and money of his people to construct a ship canal,
one commensurate in magnitude with the enormous navigation
and commerce of the world. Without knowing history,
but possessed of strong sense, the modern Pharaoh
adopted the sensible policy of the old one, and he too consulted
the oracle, which informed him that it was best not
to precipitate the barbarians upon him by any such act of
folly, and he wisely resisted the speculators and Consuls-General.
Time passed, and Säid Pacha, when a prince,
came under the magic influence of De Lesseps and was
beguiled into promising him the authority to connect the
two seas through the Isthmus of Suez—a promise which
was faithfully kept upon ascending the throne. M. de
Lesseps has received great credit for his astute diplomacy
in forcing the Egyptian to violate a sacred tradition of his
family, and still more for carrying it through to a successful
result in defiance of the powerful influence of England.
De Lesseps, coming to Egypt in 1831 as an attaché of the
consulate of France, studied the scheme, and satisfied of
its practicability, he soon met with Linant Bey, a distinguished
French engineer, then residing in Egypt. The
latter, through many years of reconnoissance, was prepared

243

to demonstrate that the two seas were on the same
level, and that there was no difficulty in cutting through
the sands of the desert. This settled it in the mind of the
young diplomat that he had a theme worthy of profound
consideration. Laboring for nearly forty years, his enthusiastic
advocacy won the support of Napoleon and his
government, the sympathy of scientific men, and the
promises of the capitalists of the world. It is not to be
wondered at that, witnessing the fulfilment of his prodigious
work, he should come to consider it as his individual
property, and set himself up as a dictator, and to dispute
with nations any interference with his vested rights. The
monuments of Egypt declare the isthmus to have been
always the highway to Asia, the larger area of which was
lakes separated by strips of land, upon which were famous
fortifications during the reigns of the Pharaohs of the
eighteenth and nineteenth dynasties. Near where Port
Saïd is now situated, at the mouth of the canal on a small
island at the eastern end of Lake Menzaleh, is the track of
the great road over which all the travel, traffic, and military
expeditions entered Egypt in passing the narrow neck
of land lying between the Serbonian Lake and the Mediterranean.
It will be recollected that it is over this strip of land
that Brugsch Bey thinks the Israelites made their successful
journey when the hosts of Pharaoh were overwhelmed by
the waters of the Mediterranean. The distance across the
isthmus is one hundred miles, and the immense basins of
the numerous lakes saved much labor in cutting, those
known as the Bitter Lakes being 24 feet below the sea.
With the exception of two heights, one of which, El Gisr,
is 52 feet above the level of the sea and five miles wide,
requiring an excavation of 18,767,000 cubic yards, and
another hill of 40,000 cubic yards, there was no obstacle in
the shape of great elevations. Some soft limestone, shells,
and crocodile teeth were excavated, but the cutting was
mostly through sand. As it is sunk to the depth of 26 feet.

244

the breadth of surface varies from 50 to 150 yards, and the
width at the bottom 24 yards. There was a basin of 570
acres, a prodigious work, excavated 26 feet deep, for the
harbor of Port Saïd. The estimate of M. de Lesseps was
that the cost would be 200,000,000 francs; in this he was
greatly mistaken. Failing in the estimate at the outset, he
certainly was equal to the emergency in devising ways and
means to raise not only the amount originally proposed,
but the many millions besides that the canal required for
its completion—in the aggregate over 450,000,000 francs.
By this success he added to his reputation as a diplomat
wonderful ability as a financier. When Saïd granted the
concession the canal was to be excavated by an organized
company, four fifths of the labor to be Egyptian. Egypt
was not to contribute any money, but to receive fifteen per
cent of the net profits. Subsequently there was a further
concession of the right to cut a sweet-water canal from the
Nile to Ismailia, and branches to Suez and Port Saïd, and
the land bordering it becoming fertile by irrigation was to
belong to the company. These concessions were for
ninety-nine years, at the end of which time everything was
to revert to Egypt upon paying the value. These concessions,
like all other schemes for public improvements when
yielded to foreigners, were made nominally subject to the
approval of the Sultan. A project of such portent as the
separation of Egypt from the Asiatic possessions of the Porte
became a matter of more serious consideration, and therefore
great effort was made to get the Imperial sanction.
There was no question that in person and through his
Grand Vizier the Sultan favored the scheme in principle.
The support in Constantinople was of such a character as
to warrant De Lesseps and European capital, always sensitive,
in embarking in the scheme. The Viceroy, when
once fully enlisted, became, like De Lesseps, enthusiastic,
being thoroughly persuaded that Egypt would by force of
circumstances hold the key of the world, affect the equilibrium

245

of Europe, and thus play a grand rôle among the
powers. The canal becoming as important as the Dardanelles,
Egypt must necessarily become what she had been
in the past, the leading power of the East. When De
Lesseps presented his matured plans in 1854, they were at
once accepted, and Saïd professed himself ready to give
the labor and, if necessary, to advance money to carry it
on. Fixing the shares at 400,000, at £20 sterling each, it
was found difficult to dispose of them all so as to obtain
the requisite amount of capital. Saïd was only too willing
to subscribe for 177,662 shares of the company, particularly
as he had only to give the bonds of Egypt in payment.
These liberal negotiations, made in 1860, were of
great importance, and the work begun in 1858 was pushed
with great vigor, not only on the isthmus but on the
sweet-water canal which connected it with the Nile. Saïd
Pacha died in 1863, and left as a legacy to Ismail not only
vast complications, but a debt of £8,000,000, most of it
arising from this canal. This was a crisis in the interests
of the canal, and the new Viceroy, a liberal and progressive
prince like his predecessor, was anxious to be noted as one
of the founders of so great a work, and he too became a
willing instrument in furthering the plans of De Lesseps.
The canal had progressed so far that machinery became
necessary to continue excavations, besides there was the
labor question to meet. This was easily disposed of, and
the happy expedient of a grievance presented itself. The
fellaheen, who hated the work, for it did not compensate
them, were driven in hordes from their rural homes under
the corvée (forced labor) system; change of diet and climate
brought on disease, and thousands perished in the sands of
the desert. England, always hostile, saw in this treatment
of the fellah an outrage upon humanity, and protested to
the Sultan, who really was in no way concerned, and cared
little to put a stop to the practice; but other considerations,
so often made influential in the East, probably had

246

their effect. An order came to Egypt against this forced
labor system, and the dredges of the company went at once
into successful operation. Ismail, appreciating the extraordinary
grant already made to the company to cut the
sweet-water canal, and Saïd's cession of over a hundred
miles of desert land on each side of it, which must become
fertile, in addition to the many rights which in his ignorance
he had conferred, became at an early moment alive to
the vast political and financial questions growing out of this
immense tract of his country in the power of the foreigner.
So he agreed to the retrocession of the sweet-water canal
and the fertilized lands, promising to complete the canal
and to leave many of the rights in the water and isolated
spots of land to the company. These negotiations were no
sooner arranged than indemnity claims and demands unexpected
and unheard of connected with this and other concessions
were brought to the consideration of Ismail.
Startled at their dimensions and believing them unjust, he
protested and refused to accede to them. There were
several important matters pending before the Sultan at this
time in which Ismail felt a deep interest: among other
things he was desirous of the approval of a large loan; the
title of Khedive, which he had set his heart upon; and
the firman fixing in his own family the right of descent.
These induced him to moderate his tone and listen to the
appointment of his much-attached friend, Louis Napoleon,
as an arbitrator. The business had not proceeded far before
Ismail realized that a great calamity had befallen him.
Upon the ground that he had deprived the company of the
forced labor by order of the Sultan, that he had secured the
retrocession of the canal and the land bordering it, and that
a compensation was due for the work of the company upon
a portion of the canal, his great friend Napoleon mulcted
him in the round sum of 84,000,000 francs. Without going
into circumstantial detail, such were the reasons assigned
for this enormous extortion. A small portion of the claim

247

was probably just, but the rest was manufactured to meet
immediate demands, and finally enabled De Lesseps to
consummate the magnificent work of his life. But this is
only one of the many evidences of the so-called humane
policy meted out to Ismail by the enlightened nations of
Europe. This is part of the sum of £16,000,000 which Mr.
Cave in his report states was expended for the public improvement
of the country, and for which Ismail had given
the bonds of Egypt.

Notwithstanding the oppression to which Ismail, now
Khedive of Egypt, was subjected by extraordinary exactions,
that helped to lay the foundation of his ruin, he
opened wide the door of Egypt and paid with a liberal
hand for the inauguration of the Suez Canal, which took
place on the 16th of November, 1869.

The Empress of the French, the Prince of Wales, and
other dignitaries of the North paid court to Ismail on the
occasion, and right royally did he diffuse his hospitality.
The magnificent festivities, elsewhere referred to in this
work, are authoritatively stated to have cost no less than
£4,200,000, or $21,000,000.

The final success of the scheme so greatly anticipated
has surpassed the most sanguine expectations, and England,
which so strenuously opposed it, has become one of
its chief owners. Owning more than three fourths of the
enormous amount of shipping which navigates the canal,
she finds it, vast as are its dimensions, unequal to her
necessities. When she proposed another on the same
isthmus, M. de Lesseps disputed her right to interfere with
his franchise, but finally agreed to enlarge the present one
on such a scale as to meet any contingency that may arise
in the future.

248

CHAPTER XX.
THE CLIMATE OF EGYPT.

Prevalent winds—Influence of the configuration of the country on the climate
—Desert oases the most salubrious parts of the country—Changes of
temperature—Ranges of heat in winter and summer—Differences between
Alexandria and Cairo—Dangers to the invalid in going up the
Nile—Sudden changes at night and in the early morning—Foreign and
native physicians in Egypt—Anecdote of Dr. Warren Bey.

IN Egypt the north wind prevails as a rule from June to
February, during the rest of the year the winds are
southerly. The latter are of course land breezes, and, as in
all countries, they are very unequal in force. The narrow
strip of land which borders the Nile, hemmed in by mountains,
breaks the force and changes the direction of these
winds. They often rush with great violence through the
passes of the hills, creating whirlwinds which raise in their
course great columns of sand. They are called meresi, sometimes
khamseen, and are very disagreeable at all seasons.
These land breezes are also frequent in winter; and as the
mornings are seldom without clouds, sometimes dense
enough to hide the sun, they are keenly felt as they sweep
down the valleys. The clouds fly rapidly, even when
there is no perceptible wind, and as a rule disperse by ten
o'clock with the rising sun. Clear during the rest of the
day, at sunset the horizon is filled with vapors, which give
place to a beautiful starry night, followed by clouds again
at dawn. These peculiar changes of wind and cloud have
much to do in forming the winter of Egypt. There is a
destructive wind which blows with violence over the desert
during summer, and particularly during the spring months
of March and April, called the khamseen. It is terrible in

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its visitation, filling the air with blasting heat and with
volumes of impalpable dust from which there is no escape.
It lasts from two to three days, during which time the sun
is obscured, and gloom almost amounting to darkness
comes over the country. The Nile, which gives existence
to Egypt, materially influences its climate. Nature has so
arranged that the vast deserts which border its rich land
regulate it by the absorption of its vapors and of the heavy
rains from the coast in the winter, before they reach the
rich lands of the Delta. This is a wise provision, as the
lands are dependent upon irrigation, and the rains are a
calamity when they come out of season. The great basins of
water created by the Suez Canal have thus far not increased
the rains in the interior, though it is said they have
affected the coast. Nor are the heavy fogs, so frequent
in the autumn, any oftener condensed into rain. With all
their immense absorption of humidity, the deserts still continue
to have the same pleasantly cool temperature and
healthfulness as in the days of ancient Egypt. There is no
place on earth so conducive to longevity as an oasis, or
Mount Sinai for example, which stands in the heart of an
arid desert. Neither has the desert received any increase
of rain from the planting of the immense forests for
which Egypt owes so much to the beneficence of Ismail.

The maximum of heat in the shade in the Delta of
Lower Egypt during summer is 95°, in Upper Egypt 100°;
at Cairo it is sometimes 104°. In December, January, and
February the temperature at its lowest is 35°, in Upper
Egypt 40°, though now and then in the valley there is
found a thin coating of ice. The highest temperature is
felt at from one to five P.M., and the lowest two hours before
sunrise. The mean temperature at Cairo is 55° F. in
winter, 80° in spring, and 89° in summer and autumn. At
Alexandria it is cooler in summer, but the heat is more oppressive
from its humidity, and it is also warmer in winter;
but the continuous rains make the climate of Alexandria

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more unpleasant than that of Cairo. The thermometer
rarely goes below 50° in winter, but the cold is felt more
uncomfortably than when the temperature is much lower
in northern latitudes. Though it is called hot 30 miles
from the coast, and undoubtedly is so at times during the
day, if you seek the shade suddenly the chances are that
you are chilled, and sickness often follows. The nights
and mornings are very cold, and those afflicted with rheumatism
and pulmonary affections suffer from the sudden
changes. Travellers go to Egypt in October when the
Etesian is the prevailing wind, but sometimes it changes
to the south, and rushing through the passes and over the
deserts it brings with it cold that is felt intensely. Attracted
by the country's biblical history and wonderful
ruins, numbers go to Egypt on that account alone; but
many also seek there a hospitable climate. As the climate
is more genial in the south than at Cairo and Alexandria,
and the historic ruins are so attractive, invalids always go
up the Nile. Those who can afford it and have the time to
spare take the luxuriously fitted smaller boat called the
diahbeeyah. There is no arrangement more perfectly
devised to expose delicate people, particularly in the
night and early morning, to the sudden changes of temperature.
Egypt is not like Florida, where the days and
nights are generally of nearly equal warmth. That which
is said of the diahbeeyah applies to the steamer. The
latter is preferable simply because the voyage by it is
shorter, and the return to the comforts of a hotel at Cairo
earlier. For pleasure-seekers who are not invalids there is
no more delightful trip on earth than up the Nile. There
is no day which is not filled with interest, but under the
best conditions people often return with severe colds or
other ailments. Acquainted with all the best southern
climates in the world, I do not think there is any that is
comparable with that of Florida. There are many foreign
physicians in Egypt of ability and experience, and the

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Arabs have a number of their own educated in Europe and
many trained at the medical school at Cairo. The Arab
doctor (hakeem) as a rule bows to the Mahometan idea of a
modicum of medicine and a large reliance upon Allah. It
is rarely that Arab physicians are willing to brave public
opinion and act according to their European training. A
remarkable illustration of this took place a few years ago at
Cairo. Kassim Pacha, then Minister of War, had an attack
of strangulated hernia, and was attended by a large
number of prominent Arab doctors, who permitted the
malady to progress until the patient's life was in serious
danger, only giving such remedies as the Pacha chose to
take, and neglecting to prescribe those so commonly used
in extreme cases in Europe and America. They finally believed
a surgical operation necessary, which in the patient's
condition was almost certain death. Just at this crisis Dr.
Warren, an American, who had recently come to Egypt,
appeared upon the scene, whither he had been invited by
General Stone. It so happened that Stone came from the
Khedive, who was solicitous for his minister, at the instant
that Warren had promised, if any one would administer chloroform,
to afford immediate relief. The Arabs objected to
both chloroform and the manipulation, declaring it would
cause a collapse. The Pacha hearing Stone mention the
Khedive, imagined it was the wish of his master that he
should submit to the treatment of Warren, and at once
consented. A French doctor present agreed to give the
chloroform without being held responsible. Upon this the
Arab cavalcade solemnly folded their arms and silently stole
away, leaving the doctor master of the situation. A few
minutes of dexterous work and the life of the Pacha was
saved. This was the signal for a general “inshallah”
(thank Allah) throughout Cairo. The grateful Khedive
made the doctor a Bey, and since then Tewfik has sent him
a high decoration.

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CHAPTER XXI.
THE FUTURE OF EGYPT.

English policy in Egypt—Excuse for retaining her army there—England
responsible—Soudan and equatorial regions—Mehemet Ali conquers the
Soudan—Central Africa and slave-hunters—The bloody trail of the slave-trader
and kourbash—The touch of infamy by Abbas Pacha—Policy of
Saïd Pacha—Effort of Ismail to extend his empire—Baker appointed
Governor of the Dark Region—Chinese Gordon appointed—Explorations
of English and American staff-officers—Elephants introduced—
Gordon resigns—Reappointed with extraordinary powers—The Soudan
in debt and boundaries diminished—Gordon retires again—Money
legitimately expended—Rich lands and untouched treasuries—Untold
possibilities for commerce—Vast acres for cotton and cane—England's
opportunity and Egypt's hope—Assouan and Philæ the ancient boundary-line
of Egypt—The camel and his carrying power—The Atbara River and
its wonderful work—The town of Cassalla—Railroad scheme of
Khedive—Greatest scheme of modern times—Teeming millions of “Les
noir les negres”—Abandonment of Soudan—Wild pandemonium of
slave-hunters—Ismail only man to govern—Ismail great loss to Egypt—
Tewfik England's tool—Humiliating position—England refuses “to
carry her own skin to market”—England's responsibility—Khartoum
centre of trade—Title of Khedive—Backsheesh and Divine right—No
sympathy for the slave—Ismail opposes slavery—Opinion in letter of
General Stone—Disorganization of Soudan and El Mahdi's opportunity—
Ruin of Egypt—The shadow of the stranger—History of El Mahdi—
Birth and concealment—Last judgment and trumpet blast—El Mahdi
takes advantage—Wahab, reformer and puritan of the desert—El Mahdi
conquers Yusef, Hicks and Baker Pachas—Political importance—El
Mahdi as a prophet—Mahometan belief in El Mahdi—Fired the Arab
heart—Now called Kâdirîyeh Dervish—Holy men and mystical signs—
Ex-Khédive's opinion—Influence of another Mahomet—Suez Canal
insecure.

SHOULD England so shape her policy as to establish such
a protectorate over Egypt as would insure the administration
of just laws over that country, there can be no question

Bedouin of the Desert and his Camel.

253

that the terrible ordeal through which the unfortunate
land has passed will inure to its permanent benefit. As
the Egyptian people are no doubt excited and discontented,
and now that they have a new war to deal with,
England has a plausible excuse before the civilized world
for retaining her armed force there to preserve tranquillity.
The safety of the Suez, as dear to her as the mouth
of the Thames, and her immense commercial interests
throughout the East, with many other political reasons of
paramount importance, are considerations which must induce
her, through her diplomacy and by other means of a
peaceful character, to retain her forces in the country, until
by wise government the people of Egypt and of Europe
will come to look at an armed occupation as a matter of
necessity. Now that she is free from the entangling alliance
with France, and is entirely responsible, the world
must await the quiet settlement of the question with
patience. To understand the problem we must not study
Egypt from the Mediterranean to Assouan, 650 miles
above Cairo, alone. It is necessary to look also into that
vast region which fifty years ago Mehemet Ali annexed to
Egypt, including several extensive provinces added by his
successors, now called the Soudan, including the provinces
of Nubia, Dongola, Sennaar, Taka, Berber, and Meroe,
and all the country extending along the Blue and White
Niles for great distances east and west of them, and several
degrees beyond the Equator.

The energetic old man who commenced the conquests
discerned the wonderful resources of Central Africa, and as
early as 1839 visited the Soudan and tried to instil into
the teeming millions there some idea of commerce and the
cultivation of the soil. He spared no pains to try and turn
the trade in ivory, ostrich feathers, gums, and spices down
the Nile, but unfortunately he was deeply concerned in the
slave trade also, which was a certain though temporary
means of filling his coffers. Weakened with age, he could

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not control the inborn savage instincts of his officials, who
at that immense distance from the seat of government
influenced by no law but that of might, took advantage of
the situation to turn all Central Africa into one grand
preserve of slave-hunters, with the government as its chief
factor and supporter. This accursed traffic interrupted intercourse,
drove back the explorers and scientific men who
were making the geography and resources of the Nile
Valley known to the world, and spread war and death
throughout the whole territory, at first so peaceful

But little was done for many years, either in exploration
or commerce, and there was no thought but of the slave-trade
and the kourbash which left a bloody trail through
Central Africa. One more touch of infamy was subsequently
added to this benighted region by Abbas Pacha, the
nephew and successor of Ibrahim, in ordering a state prison
to be fixed by direct command in the most poisonous and
deadly locality, in case Fazougli, already established, did
not prove pestilential enough; to that point he had already
taken great delight in consigning his political prisoners, with
perfect certainty of their never returning. Fitful efforts
were made by Saïd Pacha in person in 1859 to increase the
power and commerce of Egypt in Central Africa, and a
grandiloquent order was promulgated for all abuses to stop
This decree denounced especially the odious traffic in
slaves; yet its effect lasted only until his return to the
lower valley.

Something else amused this singular child of fortune, and
the Soudan with its crimes was forgotten in the receipts
from onerous taxation and the profits from a continuation
of the slave-trade. There was at the close of his reign a
revenue of $1,500,000 from taxation, and a large amount
from the slave-trade which came as a legacy to his successor.
Upon the accession of Ismail a more strenuous effort
was made than at any other period to bring within Egypt's
control the country beyond the Soudan, extending around

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the headwaters of the Nile, including the great lakes which
border the Equator and several provinces east and west of
the Nile and its tributaries.

In order still further to illustrate the extent of Egyptian
territory and the slave-trade, it is necessary to speak
of those who have explored and governed there, their exploits
and their failures, and the difficulties which in the
future need to be overcome. Sir Samuel Baker, the renowned
traveller, who had done so much toward the exploration
of the equatorial region, being in Egypt, Ismail,
pleased with his good judgment and experience, appointed
him governor over the indefinite limits of the Dark Region,
with a salary of $50,000 per annum. Accepting the responsible
trust, there was nothing from “a tin pan to a
steamboat” that was not freely given him with which to
carry to a successful issue the great enterprise of increasing
the commerce and extending the empire of Egypt. After
several years of adventure in that splendid hunting region
of the lion, the elephant, and especially the wild man of the
jungles, Baker left this region gallantly fighting his way
with a small force against large odds.

He tells us in his very interesting narrative that his
“well-directed shots” and the regular force of Egyptian
soldiers he then had with him were not sufficient to continue
the fight with the slave-hunters and their black crowd
who aided them with their sympathy. This distinguished
man, after four years' service, retired, leaving the field in
the equatorial region to the undisputed possession of those
monsters, the slave-dealers. Then it was that the “besotted
people, without the knowledge of even a God,” as
Baker tells us, were left again to fetish worship in their
solitudes, only to be aroused when the crack of the kourbash
informed them that they were under new masters, and
were destined on the instant to quit their jungles for more
favored lands. This extraordinary expedition, planned with
so much cost and as ably conducted as it could have been

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by any man, ended leaving a scene of the fiercest turbulence
behind it. Notwithstanding the enormous expense to
which he had been subjected, Ismail still clung to this idea
of equatorial empire. Then another distinguished Englishman,
“Chinese Gordon,” came, recommended, it was said,
by the Prince of Wales. An American by the name of
Ward organized an army in China against the rebels there,
and fought with great success and distinction. After his
death Gordon commanded his force, and is represented as
having been very much distinguished in suppressing the
Tae-Ping rebellion. Beginning in 1874 in the embryo
empire, Gordon was able to ascend the Nile beyond Khartoum
and establish new forts and stations there, the
“Sudd” —a dense matted marsh and great obstruction in
the river—having been removed by Eyoub Pacha, a native
Egyptian, before his arrival. Gordon had with him
several able and accomplished Englishmen, together with
numbers of scientific and able Americans of the Egyptian
staff, who were assigned to his department.

Chiefly through the zeal, energy, and courage of the
Englishmen and Americans, under his command there was
opened a wide field of exploration and survey in the first
years of Gordon's control, extending to the great lakes on
both sides of the Equator and far to the east and west of the
Nile and its tributaries. I have taken occasion elsewhere in
this work to speak of the officers who served in the Dark
Continent, and who, necessarily left to their own discretion
and intelligence, penetrated into the deserts and jungles of
Central Africa. In these immense solitudes they lived for
months without orders, guides, or advice from any quarter.
Directed entirely by their compasses and their own good
judgment, they worked amid savages and, worse still, the
deadly malaria. The wonderful services of these devoted
men in that hidden region, which they explored and
mapped, have been supervised and in part published by
General Stone, late chief of staff at Cairo. Gordon, failing

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to carry out the designs of the Khedive or to equal his own
expectations in the first years of his service, demanded in
1876 extraordinary powers, and again returned to strive for
the coveted prize. His plenary power virtually removed
him from under the authority of the Khedive, with a sort
of quasi support of England. It was said at the time that
the advice to put him there was equivalent to a command.
The whole Soudan and the country beyond the Equator
was given him to rule, with extraordinary powers. In a
word, this whole region was placed under him in absolute
control; he was independent alike in civil, military, and
financial government, there being no interference from
Cairo even in matters involving the disposal of life. The
Khedive disliked granting this power over such an immense
territory, but he was pressed at the time by his creditors
and feared to antagonize the anti-slavery feeling which
Gordon was supposed to represent. It was said of Gordon
that he would enter the Dark Continent “with the sword
in one hand and the Bible in the other,” and this plea induced
Ismail to bow to fate, and convinced that it was the
desire of England to send Gordon there, did so with an
“inshallah” (God willing) to carve out his new empire.

It is well to state that in former times the wild elephants
of Africa were tamed and utilized. And in order to assist
Gordon in passing through the jungles and marshes of
Central Africa, Stone Pacha interested the Khedive in the
importation from India of six tame elephants, which, it was
said, could be used to domesticate the savage animals.
Upon their arrival they were forwarded to Gordon as a
means wherewith to experiment with the numerous herds
found wild in the interior. The result of their visit to
their savage fellows I have never learned.

Gordon Pacha entered the Soudan with great hopes.
Holding a power greater than any official who had ever
preceded him, with ample means at his command, the
whole resources of the equatorial region to draw upon, and

258

with no one to question him, much was anticipated from
his government. Upon taking command he found the
country not only self-supporting, but paying into the Egyptian
treasury over half a million dollars per annum, besides
carrying on a large commerce with Lower Egypt amounting
to several millions more. After three years' experience
Egypt was surprised to hear that Gordon Pacha had determined
to abandon its vast possessions. And when his chief
reason was announced, the Khedive was startled to learn
that it was because he had not money enough to carry on
his government. The question was asked what has become
of the fabulous sums which, judging by the past, the
Soudan must have yielded? Why was it that under Gordon's
administration the Soudan was $1,500,000 in debt?
In lamenting the deficit of 1879, the year in which he proposed
to take his leave, after stating that the deficiency
would amount to $850,000, he innocently asked the question,
Where is the money to come from? Unfortunately
the answer given was that he had broken up the ivory and
ostrich-feather trade, and that the virtual abandonment of
Darfour and the Bahr-el-Ghazel, which had previously
yielded considerable revenue, with the general disorder of
his whole command and his extraordinary expenditures,
had destroyed all hope of securing the money from any
source. It is proper to state that this money was legitimately
spent in the Soudan in carrying out his policy. A
letter from Egypt written at this time by one high in
authority says: “Gordon's service in the Soudan was an
entire failure. It needed a great governor, but with all his
immense power and resources he was unequal to it. Gordon
found the Soudan out of debt and with a surplus in the
treasury; he left it encumbered by a heavy debt with
diminished boundaries.”

It is thus that another renowned explorer was compelled
to leave this part of Africa by the slave-traders, in this instance

259

turning his back upon acquisitions of Egypt, made
before he went there.

The situation on the return of Gordon was that Egypt
had lost control of Darfour and the greater part of the
White Nile and the river region of the Bahr-el-Ghazel,
nominally controlling Taka, Sennaar, and Kordofan. Her
other possessions are Souakim and Massowah on the Red
Sea, Zeila and Berbera on the Gulf of Aden, and much of
the coast of the Sommali, with the province of Harrar
taken from them, and Bogos and Gallibat on the frontier
of Abyssinia. These well-intentioned efforts under the
auspices of the Khedive, though ending in discomfiture,
succeeded, through the energy and ability of the staff of
Americans and Englishmen, and in many instances of the
native officers, in opening much of the equatorial region, and
of the higher Nile and its tributaries. The fact has been
demonstrated that there are vast tracts of rich lands filled
with untouched treasures lying fallow and covered with
millions of human beings who can easily be brought, with
capital and a vigorous government, under the influence of
that higher Western civilization in which it is our privilege
to live. It is estimated that there are five million acres of
arable land in the valley of the Nile extending from the
Mediterranean to Assouan—much of that used by the
ancients having become desert. Some of that has been reclaimed,
and there is no difficulty, with modern facilities
and by means of canals, in reclaiming all that in former
times was cultivated and even vast tracts besides. But that
to which particular attention is now called is the extensive
region beyond the borders of Egypt proper—–those provinces
over which there has been a semi-military government
claimed by Egypt through conquest and exploration, and
of which there are now about two hundred thousand acres
partially cultivated in doora, corn, and vegetables. Without
exaggeration there have been explored over a hundred

260

million acres of fertile lands inhabited by great numbers of
people who at one time professed to obey the orders of
Egyptian officials and for that reason were called civilized;
and innumerable savages under still more uncertain control,
who are called semi-civilized. The whole population of
this region, with which Egypt came in contact, was kept
under subjection by military power alone. In the many
millions of acres of fine land is not included much that is
beyond Gondokoro on the Nile or in the equatorial region,
nor that about Harrar and the Sommali country bordering
the Red Sea. That which has been already described
opens a wide field for the imagination to survey, of both
the country and its inhabitants. The ivory, ostrich
feathers, gums, precious woods and minerals, of which there
are untold quantities, add to its importance. When it is
remembered that there are at least ten million acres of the
richest land on the Upper Nile and between it and its
tributaries where good cotton and cane can be cultivated,
and a population of docile savages who can be made to
work, it is well worthy the profound attention of the civilized
world. When the immense quantities of rich lands
and the vast population that live on, and wander about
them, are considered, it can be seen what a mighty future
is possible for Central Africa, under a well-directed government.
Egypt is the natural channel whereby to reach its
immense resources, but it is only a great power that can
consummate so great a design.

It was expected that England, dismissing all questions of
territorial right and commercial jealousy, and having in her
power the long-coveted prize to which her policy had led
her, would continue her march toward the centre of Africa.
Occupying “the seat of the Faithful “in Lower Egypt, it
is an easy task to pacify the beasts of burden who live there
and to elevate them by disseminating education. An
amelioration of their condition and religion would soon
follow a just administration of law, and the Egyptian

Remains of Small Temple at Philae.

261

people would joyfully assist with their labor to extend
Egypt's fertile lands into the deserts which border them.
England has within her grasp an empire equal in magnitude
to that of the Indies to civilize and to add to the world's
family of nations. The only hope for Egypt from the
source of the Nile to its mouth is in England. If she relegates
Egypt back to despotism, it will be a trebly refined
cruelty.

In the light of recent events it is necessary to give a
more detailed account of the Soudan, its lands, people,
commerce, and its approaches.

Assouan and Philae were considered by the ancients as
the boundary line of Egypt; but in these latter years, since
the day of Mehemet Ali, the founder of the present
dynasty, and more particularly during the reign of Ismail
Pacha, the boundary of Egypt has been extended so as to
include the equatorial basin in the south, Darfour and
Wahday on the west, and the provinces of Gallibat,
Bogos, and Harrar on the east; and it was even claimed
by Ismail that he had the right to extend his borders as
far as the Juba River on the Indian Ocean. It is more
particularly the region watered by the Nile and its tributaries,
and known as the Soudan, that we shall now notice,
with only a casual reference to more distant provinces as
of less importance in considering the future of Egypt.

Travellers up the Nile, after entering the gateway at
Assouan and Philae, have often wondered, while observing
the narrow fringe of soil in feathering their way through
the province of Nubia, with its scattering date-trees and
impoverished people, how it could have been possible for
the Ethiopian empire, whose history is written in hieroglyphics
upon its monuments and those of Egypt, to have
sustained so great a population, and one of such power as
to conquer Lower Egypt, establish its own dynasty, and
carry its arms into Asia. On arriving at the village of
Semneh, above the Second Cataract and thirty-five miles

262

above Wadi-Halfa, we find what some Egyptologists regard
as a solution of the mystery. This was a boundary under
the twelfth dynasty of the Pharaohs, and a formidable
fortification was erected here.

Much of it still stands, after 4000 years, for the antiquarian
to marvel at. Mariette Bey tells us that near the village
of Semneh there are some rocks bearing hieroglyphic
inscriptions twenty-one feet above high-water mark.
These inscriptions record the fact that during the reigns of
the twelfth dynasty, forty centuries ago, the Nile level was
twenty-one feet higher than it is to-day. How so great a
change has occurred we do not know, and scientific men
have not been able to solve the problem. As the kings of
the twelfth dynasty accomplished some of the most extraordinary
things ever undertaken by man, the question
has been asked, Was the change of the Nile level a
hydrological enterprise, intended to create a natural
rampart at the Second Cataract, between Egypt and her
redoubtable enemy, by rendering the river unnavigable,
and preventing ships from descending the stream, from the
Soudan to Lower Egypt? On the other hand, the obstruction
may have been the work of the Ethiopians, for
like reasons. However that may be, a study of the surrounding
deserts shows that the region of fertility in the
time of higher level must have been much broader than it
is now. Not only are there many great ruins indicating
that what is now desert was once a thickly populated country,
but rich deposits of alluvial soil are found in the midst
of the sandy wastes, and these could only have been formed
there by the inundations of the Nile when its level was
much higher than it is at present. The gigantic ruins of
Dakkeh and Abou Simboul are convincing proofs that once
a great and prosperous people lived here. When the grand
obstruction, natural or artificial, which thus crossed the
path of the Nile and raised its level gave way, we do not
know. The event is unrecorded in history, but its results

Ancient Rock-cut Tomb.

263

are traceable at Assouan, a hundred miles below, where
there are marks of a great deluge which at some remote
period tore away the soil and ploughed great gullies in the
rocks.

Leaving the miserable little village of Assouan on its
sandbank, soon the diminutive, picturesque island of
Philæ is in view, its ruined temples covering its whole extent.
On either side of the river there are rocky hills 250
feet high, with evidences that here too the ancients had
formidable fortifications. With the thermometer at 100°
and the eternal sun glittering upon rock and ruin, though
it all looks exceedingly beautiful the impulse is to move
on, though going up the river is simply passing out of one
glowing furnace into another still more heated.

The long line of poor mud villages and still more miserable
people are strewed along the Nile a distance of 136
miles to Korosko. This place, in lat. 22 1/2° N., is situated on
a bed of sand, a few mud huts giving it rank as a village,
and its view is the long vista of desert on the east and
west. The place is important as the starting-point in
cutting off the great bend in the river, to Abou Hamed,
and thence along the Nile to Berber. The distance is 230
miles, across a most frightful desert, and there is but one
watering-place at four days' march called Moorad (Bitter).
The water is found in an extinct crater near rocky cliffs,
and is a mixture of salt and bitter, execrable for man, but
drunk by camels. It is by means of the camel alone that
the journey can be effected. Filling himself with water
before starting, it lasts him to this station. Each camel
carries 400 pounds, a part of which is water, and it is in
this way that man and horse are enabled to make the journey
with him. But for this patient animal it would be impossible
to have commerce with the Soudan except by the
long, circuitous route of the river or by the way of Souakim.
In the summer, as in the winter, the thermometer ranges,
in the intense heat, as high as 115° or 120°. and as the

264

poisonous (simoom) blast sometimes comes, it is difficult to
keep the little water carried from evaporation. The
whitened skeletons of camels and horses mark the route
and tell of the conflict of life and death that these companions
of man have to fight in their march over the heated
sands of this desert.

Another four days' march over burning plains must be
made, and the traveller is often deceived, when suffering
with parching thirst, by the fascinating and constant
mirage. It happens at times, in spite of the warning of the
Arab guide, that men rush into death in pursuit of this
phantom. When the caravan reaches Abou Hamed,
another mud village, it is enabled once more to drink the
delicious water of the Nile.

Following the course of the river it is 143 miles to Berber.
Notwithstanding the agreeable fact that the Nile is
close by, the extreme heat, and often the burning simoom,
causes intense pain and weariness, and though water is
poured down the parched throat, while it sustains life, yet
it does not slake thirst.

Berber is a large military station under a governor. It is
a good-sized mud village, with well-cultivated gardens of
palm and lemon trees. In contrast with the desolation of
the deserts over which caravans have recently crept with
the slow-moving camel, these gardens filled with vegetation
appear to the suffering Arab like Mahomet's Paradise.
Shaded under the palm-tree near the river, his constant exclamation
is, “Alham delillah” (Thanks be to God) for
creating water whose magical power converts deserts into
flowery gardens.

Berber has recently become important, being on the Nile
in the most direct route of travel to Khartoum, which is at
the junction of the White and Blue Nile and the capital
of the Soudan. It is 300 miles from Souakim on the Red
Sea, and the distance is travelled in twelve to fifteen days
by camels, the route being rough and scantily supplied with

Looking South from Temple Roof at Philae.

265

water. The route to Berber and Khartoum from Cairo is
much the best by the way of the Red Sea and Souakim.
It is only by means of wells, the principal of which is
Kokreb, that the military and caravans are enabled to make
the journey from Souakim to Berber, and thence by
steamer it is 200 miles. Twenty miles above Berber is the
mouth of the Atbara, the first river in 1200 miles which
empties into the Nile. Half way between Berber and
Khartoum is the large village of Shendy; other smaller
villages are along the river on both banks, and scrubby
mimosa and date trees fringe it. As along the river below,
the cultivation is by irrigation by means of the assekiah
and the still slower shadoof.

Khartoum, in lat. 17° N., is at the end of the Nubian
Desert; a short distance above it the fertile lands commence,
and the equatorial rains, so copious above, terminate.
It is here that the two great rivers, the Blue and
White Nile, unite and form the main river, which 180 miles
below receives immense impetus from the Atbara, which
like the Blue Nile is laden with the fertilizing alluvium that
is carried over 1500 miles through the great desert, to
enrich in its course the banks of the river as far as the
Mediterranean.

Retracing the route to the mouth of the Atbara, it is
proposed to follow the course of that stream and rapidly
describe the country bordering it. This river is even more
prolific in rich mud than its great competitor, the Blue
Nile, and like it takes its rise in the Abyssinian mountains.
The bed of this river is partly dry, and the water stands in
great holes during a portion of the year. Like the other
large branches, it rises periodically, nature having so
ordered that they all harmonize in the season of the flood.
In the summer, becoming turbulent in its rapid descent
from the mountains with its great volume of water, it adds
its swift current to the onward flow of the main Nile.
Scientists say that without its aid there would not be

266

sufficient water and force to send the rich matter so far
down into Lower Egypt to perform its wonderful work
there. A mountain stream in a country of copious rains, it
has numerous branches in its long course. It is in the
midst of these streams, particularly the Settite, and the
main stream, that there is found a great area of uncultivated
and fertile land, extending north and east to the river
Gash or Mareb in Abyssinia. West of the stream is the
rich delta between it and the main Nile, and a large domain
between it and the Blue Nile and its tributaries. It is
more than 100 miles from the mouth of the Atbara to
Gos Regeb, the end of the desert and first permanent settlement.
The scarcity of water makes it difficult for man or
beast to travel over this desert region. With proper hydraulic
appliances during the time of the flood it could
be irrigated and its fertile lands utilized. As it is, only the
Jalyeen and Sheikarian Arabs on the west side and the
Hadendowa Arabs on the east side, with their numerous
herds, frequent it. The Bishareen Arabs extend along it
and the Nile to Berber and also in the direction of Souakim.
The rains commence in the mountains of Abyssinia
in the months of April and May and reach here in June.
The river then becomes a torrent, sweeping through the
rich and parched soil; the stumpy mimosa and date trees
begin to bloom, and the plains are soon covered with
nutritious grasses. It is then that the numerous nomadic
pastoral Arabs flock to the rivers with their thousands of
camels, cattle, sheep, and goats for the rich pasturage which
lies along their banks for hundreds of miles. From the
important village of Gos Regeb it is about 100 miles to the
village of Gorassé, a trading station on the caravan road
from Khartoum, the rich provinces of the Soudan and Gallibat,
to Cassalla, in the Province of Taka. This place is
the second in size and importance in the Soudan.

Cassalla, which is 50 miles from Gorassé, is situated at
the head of the Abyssinian river Gash or Mareb, is distant

267

350 miles from Berber, 300 from Souakim, about 250 from
Massowah, and is a strongly fortified town of 10,000 inhabitants.
North and south of it the country is open prairie.
Under Ismail it greatly increased in the cultivation of doura
and cotton, and in its trade in hides, senna, and gums.
The same general features continue about 100 miles to
Tomat, another of Ismail's stations, at the junction of the
River Settite, which comes from the east. Baker, who
hunted in this region several months, represents it as not
only rich in soil, but a splendid hunting-ground for the
elephant, lion, rhinoceros, buffalo, giraffe, ostrich, and
great numbers of birds and smaller fauna. The nomadic
tribes of Hamran Arabs and the savage Basé are on the
east side, and the powerful tribe of Daibaina Arabs on the
west. About 40 miles from Tomat, en route to Gallibat,
which is 140 miles distant, the road is intersected by the
great caravan trail, which passes through Katarif to Abou-Harraz
on the Blue Nile, a distance of 250 miles. At
Gallibat, which is on the Abyssinian frontier, Ismail always
kept a large military force to guard against invasion and to
keep in fear the numerous strong Arab tribes which frequent
this rich country. It is the home of the Toukrouris, who
migrated from Darfour, and also of the remnant of that
tribe which burned to death Ismail Pacha, the favorite son
of Mehemet Ali, of whom account has been already given,
and who fled hither, as this region was then in the territory
of Abyssinia, to escape the persecution of the old warrior
who had determined upon their extermination. Fifty-five
miles from Gallibat is the Rahad, a branch of the Blue
Nile, which runs parallel with the Dinder, another branch,
both taking a south-westerly course 240 miles to Abou-Harraz.
The country is a level prairie, covered with fine
pasturage and thorny bushes, and abounding in game.
There is a large population living in idleness, who could
be easily brought under subjection by the strong arm of
civilized man. From Abou Harraz it is 118 miles to Khartoum,

268

where the heated sands of the desert are again encountered.

Before leaving the possessions of Egypt in the eastern
Soudan, it is necessary to speak of acquisitions of Ismail
still more distant, near the mouth of the Red Sea. Just
before the Abyssinian war in 1875 it was said that Ismail
had purchased the seaport of Zeila, on the Arabian Gulf.
Once in his possession, it became easy to march a sufficient
force to Harrar, a good-sized town and the capital
of the country, and there depose the authorities, subsequently
declaring that the place was a part of Egypt by
right of conquest. It was in conjunction with this movement
that Munzinger Bey marched into the interior, bordering
Abyssinia on the east, to capture the noted salt-mines,
where he met his untimely fate. Both of these expeditions
were a part of the policy that really dictated the
war with Abyssinia, which the reader will understand when
he follows the writer into the second part of this book.
The movement upon Harrar was successful. This province
has a docile peop

PART II.—MILITARY EXPERIENCES IN ABYSSINIA.
CHAPTER I.
THE KHEDIVE'S ANXIETY FOR AFRICAN CONQUEST	289
Ancient relations of Ethiopia to Egypt, 289.—The modern Pharaohs perpetuating the traditions of their predecessors, 290.—Ismail's first step toward gaining the key of Central Africa, 291.—The suppression of the slave-trade made the plausible excuse for conquest, 295. —Ismail's dream of including in his kingdom all the land of the Nile, 298.—Armed exploring parties sent out, 300.—The daring adventures of Colonel C. C. Long, 300.—Other exploring expeditions, 300.—Annexation sought under the plea of science and humanity, 300.—Arrendrup's expedition against King John of Abyssinia in 1875, 301.—His officers and the composition of his force, 301.—His little army cut to pieces by King John in the valley of the Mareb, 303.—Escape of scattered detachments under Majors Dennison, Dorholtz, and Raif, 305.—Melancholy end of an unfortunate expedition, 305.
CHAPTER II.
ABYSSINIA—ITS HISTORY AND INHABITANTS	307
The geography of the country, 307.—Vegetable life, 309.—Races in Abyssinia, 310.—Characteristics of the climate, 310.—The origin of the Blue Nile, 311.—Government and social features, 312.—Abyssinia a feudal monarchy, 313.—The fauna of the region, 313.—The finest hunting ground in the world, 313.—Agriculture and slavery, 314.—Relation of Abyssinia to ancient Egypt, 314.—Ancient monuments, 315.—Traditions of the people, 316.—Curious facts about their religion and its history, 317.

CHAPTER III.
HABITS AND CUSTOMS IN ABYSSINIA	319
The Portuguese in Abyssinia, 319.—Interesting remains of their occupation, 319.—Terrible religious feuds, 321.—The rise of Theodorus and his defeat by the English, 321.—King John's accession to power, 321.—Physical type of the Abyssinian, 323.—Costume and ornaments, 323.—The Abyssinian women, 323.—Law and its administration, 324.—Punishment for homicide, theft, etc., 324.—The function of the Abouna or Metropolitan, 326.—The religious creed, 326.—Monogamy and marriage, 328.
CHAPTER IV.
START OF THE EGYPTIAN EXPEDITION FOR ABYSSINIA	329
The author ordered to Cairo to take command, 329.—He is afterward replaced by Ratib Pacha and made second in authority, 329.— Debates over the expedition in the Khedive's council, 330.—Sketch of Nubar Pacha, the Prime Minister, 330.—Cherif Pacha, his rival, 332.—The injunction impressed on Ratib Pacha, 333.—Organization of the forces, 333.—Preparation for the campaign, 334.—Off for the field, 336.—Transport over the Red Sea, 336.—Turmoil at Massowah, 336.—Description of the town, 337.
CHAPTER V.
PREPARING FOR THE CAMPAIGN	333
Arrival of Prince Hassan for service on the staff, 339.—Luxury of his outfit, 340.—Discords and intrigues at headquarters, 340.—Ahmed Bey, Governor of Massowah, 341.—Pressing need of an early march and the route selected, 341.—Delay from the difficulty in getting a camel-train, 341.— Secret opposition of Ratib Pacha to the prosecution of the campaign, 342.—Serious difficulties which the chief of staff had to meet, 342.—Arrival of released prisoners and a messenger from King John, 345.—The horrible condition of the mutilated prisoners and the effect on the Egyptians, 345.—Detention of the Englishman Kirkham, the envoy of King John, as a prisoner, 345. —Kirkham's sensible advice, 347.
CHAPTER VI.
SOMETHING ABOUT THE ORGANIZATION AND PERSONNEL OF THE EGYPTIAN ARMY AND THE ABYSSINIAN EXPEDITION	349
The basis of the Egyptian military force, 349.—Early services of Colonel Séves, a Mussulman Frenchman, 349.—Assignments to staff duty, 349.—General Stone's difficulties in staff organization, 350.—The Ministers of War jealous of the Etat-Major, 357.— Ratib's hatred of the staff service, 358.—Description and sketch of Ratib, 359.—One of the most cowardly and incapable of commanders, 360.—Something more concerning the American officers in Egypt, 360.—The author's connection with the Khedive's army, 361.—Assigned to the active command of the army and navy, 361. —The American and foreign officers assigned to the Abyssinian expedition, 362.—The Egyptian staff, 363.

CHAPTER VII.
THE MARCH INTO THE INTERIOR	365
Lieutenant-Colonel Graves left at Massowah to guard the rear and hold the base of communications, 365.—The baggage lightened to meet the lack of transportation, 366.—Breaking up camp, 366.—Adventures on the march, 367.—The lion of Abyssinia, and the way he is hunted, 369.—Arrival at Addi-Rasso, 371.—An Abyssinian paradise, 371.—Another reorganization of the baggage train, 372.— Colonel Dye's assault on Ibrahim Lutfy Effendi, 372.—Colonel Dye, summoned before a court-martial, resigns, 373.
CHAPTER VIII.
INCIDENTS AND EXPERIENCES OF OUR PROGRESS	374
Example of Arab fanaticism, 374.—Profusion of animal life, 375.—Fine marching qualities of Egyptian troops, 375.—Front view of the valley of Gura, 376.—Ratib suddenly changes the predetermined plan without consulting the chief-of-staff, 377.—Characteristics of the flora of the country, 377.—Arrival of an Abyssinian chief hostile to King John, 378.—His proffered services refused, 378.— Abbé Duflot is sent for by the commanding general, 379.—Services rendered by this able and devoted man, 380.—Another instance of Ratib's cowardice and folly, 380.—He finally agrees to move further into the valley of Gura, 380.—Continued blundering in changing a position, 381.—General Field sent to the rear to regulate the base of supplies and communications and to urge forward supplies, 382.—The camel and his importance in the desert, 383.—The camel cormorant, 383.—How Ratib's proclamation was received by King John, 385.—Another disaffected chief offers his services to the Egyptians, 386.—Conversation with this chief, 389.—The dangerous diseases prevalent in Abyssinia, 389.— The music of the country, 390.

CHAPTER IX.
THE LULL BEFORE THE STORM	392
Ratib disposes of his would-be Abyssinian allies, 392.—Vain attempts to organize a system of scouting parties, 393.—The terrible fright of the commanding general, 394.—Movements of King John, 395. —The Abyssinian's reputed message to Ratib, 395.—False alarms, 396.—Demoralization of the Egyptians, 396.—Utter lack of capacity and courage in Ratib, 397.—The council of war, 397.—General Loring explains the situation and lays down a plan of operations, 398. —His advice ignored by the council, 400.—What Prince Hassan said, 401.—Osman Pacha ordered to desert Khaya Khor, but the order countermanded, 401.—Utter worthlessness of Osman, 401.
CHAPTER X.
THE BATTLE OF GURA	402
Further evidence of Ratib's incompetence, 402.—Approach of King John with his hordes, 403.—Ratib orders the force out of the fort into the valley, 404.—General Loring's first impression that the movement was to concentrate at Khaya Khor, 404.—Discovering the mistake, he takes means to secure the new position, 404.—Activity of the American officers, 405.—Appearance of the Abyssinian vanguard, 407.—Abject flight of the commanding general, 411.— Preparations for receiving King John's attack, 412.—Ratib refuses to advance a skirmish line, 412.—Topography of the valley of Gura, 412.—Unprotected situation of the right of the Egyptian line, 413. —Vain attempts made to have it strengthened, 413.—Situation of the two forces, 413.—The Egyptian army demoralized by their commander's cowardice, 413.—King John's amazement at the position of the Egyptian army, 413.—He turns Ratib's right flank, 415.— Vain endeavor of General Loring to order up reinforcements, 417. —Ratib deliberately runs from the field, followed by a large portion of his army, 419.—Futile attempts of Prince Hassan and the American officers to rally the fugitives, 420.—Raschid Pacha, commanding the right, slain while gallantly fighting, 421.—The retreating Egyptians deserted by their officers, miss the fort, and rush on the weapons of their foes, 421.—A bloody massacre, 421.—Attempt made by Loring Pacha to persuade Ratib to a night attack on the enemy's camp, 421.—Ratib's refusal, 422.—A shining example of ignorance, stupidity, and cowardice, 422.

CHAPTER XI.
THE CLOSE OF THE CAMPAIGN	423
Ratib refuses to send out for his wounded, 423.—Boldness of the enemy in coming up under the walls of the fort, 424.—The Abyssinians make a resolute onslaught on the fort, 425.—Their bloody repulse, 426.—Flight of the enemy after heavy loss, 427.—The Egyptians mutilate and partially burn the bodies of the dead Abyssinians, 428.—Indignation and horror of the American staff, 429.—King John makes reprisals by murdering six hundred prisoners in cold blood, 431.—American and European officers captured in the first day's battle, 431.—Example of kindness on the part of Abyssinian women, 432.—The loss of Egypt in killed, wounded, and prisoners, 432.—Assault of Egyptian soldiery on friendly Abyssinians, who saved the lives of their wounded, 433.—Ratib Pacha sends despatches deceiving the Khedive as to the results of the battle, 433. —He is directed to conclude peace, 434.—Negotiations with King John, 435.—He secretly steals away with baggage and men while these are pending, 435.—A coward in war and a traitor in peace, 436.
CHAPTER XII.
CONCLUSION	437
Dr. Johnson's account of his captivity among the Abyssinians, 437.— Saved from death by Welled Sallassee, 437.—Death of Dr. Mehemet Ali, 439.— Sad case of Major Dorholtz, 440. — Terribly wounded and brutally treated, 441.—Slain in a duel with Count Turnheysen after returning to Egypt, 442.—Implication of Prince Hassan in the matter, 442.—Incidents farcical and tragical before Abyssinia, 443.—Evil influences which sapped the military régime, 445.—Deep-seated hostility of officers and men to the Abyssinian war, 446.—Statu quo ante bellum, 446. — Unfortunate effects of Egyptian failure on the Khedive's power and prestige, 446.—A personal word about the relations of General Loring with the Khedive and his court, 446.—Decorations received for distinguished service, 450.

PART I.—EGYPT.
CHAPTER I.
	PAGE
ALEXANDRIA	3
The mysterious past of Egypt, 3.—The Nile in the religious symbolism of the country, 4.—The colossal ruins and strange political mutations of Egypt, 4.—The traveller's first impressions, 5.—Mariette Bey and the Boulac Museum, 8.—Recent changes in Egyptian character, 9.—Alexandria and its surroundings, 10.—An Egyptian funeral, 13.—The ruin wrought by English policy in the past and present, 17.—How Christian England is completing the evil work of Mahometan misrule, 17.
CHAPTER II.
ROSETTA	19
Rosetta, modern and ancient, 19.—Interesting associations of this locality, 19.—Ruins and mosques, 19.—Wonderful activity of bird life during the winter months, 22.—Experiences at Rosetta and other fortified cities on the coast, 23.—An Arab dinner, its etiquette and its dishes, 24.
CHAPTER III.
MEHEMET ALI	28
The birth and rise of Mehemet Ali, 28.—How he became Viceroy of Egypt, 29.—His genius and astuteness, 29.—The massacre of the Mamelukes, 32.—Attempts of the Sultan to get rid of his dangerous vassal, 32.—Mehemet's wars and his attempts to benefit Egypt, 33.—Neslé-Hannoum and her husband, Ahmet Bey, 34.—Ahmet's exploits in Upper Egypt and the Soudan, 35.—His remorseless cruelty, 37.—Anecdotes of Ahmet, 37.—How Neslé-Hannoum killed her husband for the supposed good of Mehemet Ali, 37.—Extraordinary character of Neslé, 38.—Her licentiousness and exploits, 39.—Incidents of cruelty in harem life, 40.

CHAPTER IV.
ABBAS AND SAÏD PACHAS	42
The accession of Abbas, grandson of Mehemet, 42.—His odious and detestable character, 42.—Prominent traits of a ruler who was heartless, avaricious, and worthless, 43.—His death supposed to have been instigated by his aunt, Neslé-Hannoum, 45.—Succeeded by Saiïd Pacha, his uncle, Mehemet's son, 45.—Incidents of his reign and traits of his character, 46.—Saï'd a strange mixture of good and evil, 46.—His eccentricities of purpose and action, 47.—Lesseps and the Suez Canal, 47.—Death of Saïd after a short reign, 49.
CHAPTER V.
TANTA	50
A peculiar Oriental city, 50.—The scene of one of the greatest fêtes and fairs of the Orient, 51.—Scenes at Tanta, 52.—The Saint Ahmed el Bedowee, 53.—His function as a patron and intercessor, 53.—The mosque raised to his memory, 54.—Phases of the great fair, 54.—A gathering from all parts of the Mahometan world, 55. —The Tanta fête a survival of the licentious orgies of Isis at the ancient city near this site, 55.—Dervishes and dancing girls, 58.— The games of the people, 59.
CHAPTER VI.
THE FELLAH AND HIS MASTER	60
The ancestry of the Egyptian peasant, 60.—His condition, past and present, 60.—Results of ages of slavery and wretchedness, 61.— Misrepresentations of his character, 61.—The kourbash and enforced labor, 61.—Efforts made to improve his condition during the reign of the present dynasty, 62.—The average Egyptian, 63. —The effect on him of his religion, 63.—Ismail's attempt to sweep away intolerance, 63.—Impossibility of reform in Mahometan countries except through a material change in their present religion, 68.
CHAPTER VII.
ISMAIL PACHA	72
Ismail, the successor of Saïd Pacha, 72.—Great rejoicings on his accession, 73.—Wealth and energy of this prince, 74.—How the Suez Canal came to be built, 74.—Why Pharaoh Necho in ancient Egypt and Mehemet Ali in modern Egypt refused to permit such a canal to be cut, 75.—Effects of the Suez Canal complications on Egypt, 75.—Ismail's course toward the bondholders, 76.—De Lesseps an able and shrewd schemer, 76.—Ismail's policy in the government of Egypt, 77.—Description of the man, 77.—His attempts at reform, 78.

CHAPTER VIII.
CAIRO	80
Changes made in the city during the last twenty years, 80.—Its present beautiful and European aspect 81.—Praise due to Ismail Pacha, 81.—Sketch of Cairo, 82.—Opera and theatre, 82.—Christian schools and missions, 83.—Change in the habits of Mahometan ladies, 84.—Visit to the Pyramid of Cheops, 86.—The climb to its top, 86.—Theory touching the purpose of its builders, 87.—Views of diferent archæologists, 87.—The Sphinx and the Pyramid of Chephren, 91.—The Pyramids of Sakkara and the tunnel of the Sacred Bulls, 92.—Mariette Bey's wonderful discovery of an unopened tomb, 93.—The statue of the high priest “Ti,” 94.—Paintings delineating domestic and every-day scenes of country life, 94.—The ancient city of On or Heliopolis, 95.—Tombs of the early Caliphs, 96.— Ceremony of starting on the Mecca pilgrimage, 97.—Utter destruction of Heliopolis, 98.
CHAPTER IX.
MARRIAGE	105
The nuptial ceremonies of Egypt, 105.—Remembrance of fairy-like scenes, 106.—The proceedings at a Mahometan marriage, 106.— The marriage of Toussoun, 110.—His tastes as an English scholar and admirer of Cooper's novels, 110.—Description of one of the most gorgeous weddings ever seen, 111.—Splendor equalling that of the Arabian Nights, 112.
CHAPTER X.
THE HAREM	114
The inmates of the harem, 114.—The tyranny of life and death exercised over women, 115.—What they do and how they live in their prisons, 116.—Preservation of beauty the chief aim of life, 118.— The arts of the toilette, 119.—Eastern idea of beauty, 120.—Jealousy in the harem, 122.—Cruelty of Mahometan husbands, 123.
CHAPTER XI
MAHOMET AND HIS RELIGION	126
The great Mahometan mosque at Cairo, 126.—The nature of the religion, 127.—Common origin of the Jews and Arabs, 128.—Conditions under which the religion was founded. 129.—Mahomet and his career, 130.—Evils and sensuality of the system, 131.—Obligations of the Prophet to Jewish and Christian teachings, 132.— Present status of Mahometanism, 133.—The relations of Turkey to the future of Islam, 136.—Its decadence and speedy downfall, 137.

CHAPTER XII.
THE NILE LANDS AND THEIR CULTIVATION	139
The ascent of the Nile, 139.—Importance of the river to Egypt, 139. —The appearance of the banks, 140.—The oasis of Fiyoom, the site of the ancient Crocodilopolis and of Arsinoe, 140.—One of the Edens of Egypt, 141.—Legends and traditions, 142.—Ismail's great estates here, now the property of the bondholders, 147.—Something more about the fellah and his customs, 148.—The most important men in Egypt, 148.—Adherence to ancient customs, 148.—Millions of dollars spent by Ismail in introducing machinery and improvements, 149.—Needs of Egyptian farming, 149.
CHAPTER XIII.
THEBES	150
A glance at ancient Egypt, 150.—Israelitish bondage, 150.—The tremendous gap in Egyptian history, 151.—Reign of Queen Hatasou, 151.—Victories and magnificence of Thothmes III., 151.—Rameses II., the Greek Sesostris, 152.—The temples of Karnak and Luxor of Thebes, 152.—Scenes and descriptions on their walls, 153.— Painting and sculpture on the walls of the tombs, 154.—The “Book of the Dead,” 160.—The religion of old Egypt, 161.—Perfect record of life, political, religious, and social, inscribed on the monuments, 163.—The ruins of Thebes unsurpassed for stupendous grandeur, 164.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE OVERTHROW OF ISMAIL	165
The earlier difficulties of Ismail Pacha, 165.—Protest of the Sultan against the right of Egypt to negotiate loans, 166.—How the Sublime Porte was bought over, 166.—The Khedive receives a firman confirming the succession in his own line, 167.—Arrival of Mr. Cave in Egypt to investigate the finances, 168.—Mr. Cave reports their hopeless condition, 169.—Interest of $25,500,000 to be paid on the debt out of a revenue of $45,500,000, 169.—The Moukābăla, 170.— By advice of the English consul, England and France are asked to send two comptrollers of the debt, 170.—Arrival of Messrs. Goschen and Joubert, 171.—Ismail is forsaken by his friends throughout Europe, 171.—Fate of Sadik Pacha, 171.—The Khedive is sued in the International Court, 171.—Arrival of vast numbers of Englishmen to fatten on the Khedive, 172.—Native clerks all discharged from the administration, 173.—Civil and military officials suffer from non-payment of arrears, 173.—Ismail yields up his absolute power and becomes a constitutional prince, 174.—He gives up his private estate for the good of Egypt, 175.—First beginnings of a national party, 175.—Nubar Pacha and his ministry driven from power, 177.—Ismail interferes to prevent bloodshed, 178.—He is deprived of all power in his own cabinet, 178.—He boldly dismisses the foreigners and resumes power, 179.—A life-and-death struggle, 180.—Ismail is vanquished and deposed by a firman of the Sultan, 181.

CHAPTER XV.
MAHMOUD TEWFIK PACHA	183
Careful training of Tewfik by Ismail, 183.—Monogamy enforced on him, 184.—Thorough education, 184.—Originally not destined for the throne, 184.—Tewfik's personality, 184.—Great difficulties attending Tewfik's accession, 186.—Smouldering hate of the Arab against foreign rule, 187.—Incidents which complicated Egyptian affairs, 187.—Rapacity and exactions of the European comptrollers, 187.—The peasant robbed of his land, 187.—“Killing the goose that laid the golden egg,” 188.—“The Egyptian Commission” construed to be international by England and France, 189.—The last straw which broke the camel's back, 191.
CHAPTER XVI.
ACHMET ARABI PACHA	193
Arabi Pacha as first known by the writer, 193.—His extraordinary devotion to his faith, 193.—Personal characteristics of the man, 194. —Causes that first placed him at the head of the National party, 195. —The comptrollers and the House of Notables, 196.—Quarrel over the unassigned revenues, growing out of the rapacity of English officials, 197.—Tewfik a mere tool of England and France, 198.— His weakness, vacillation, and folly, 198.—Arabi's first great act as a popular leader, 200.—England, backed by France, solely responsible for the attempted revolution, 200.—Ignoble part played by the Sultan, 200.—“True inwardness” of the English policy, 201.— Arrival of the English fleet, 201.—The massacre at Alexandria and the bombardment, 205.—Arabi's strategy as a general, 205.—End at Tel-el-Kebir, 205.—Arabi's mistakes, 206.—The war on Egypt resolved into a determination to keep 1325 Englishman in fat places, 207.

CHAPTER XVII.
A JOURNEY TO MOUNT SINAI	208
Passing through the Land of Goshen, 208.—Its associations, ancient and modern, 209.—The route of the Israelites, 210.—Some speculations relating to the patriarch Joseph, 212.—The start from Suez, 212.—Adventures on the Red Sea, 212.—The village of Tor, 214.— The pleasures of dromedary-riding, 215.—The life of the Bedouin, 216.—The difference between the dromedary and the camel, 216.— The Arabian horse and ass, 217.—Mishaps of desert travel, 218.— The approach to Gebel Musa, 219.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE HOLY MOUNTAIN	221
Arrival at the Greek convent of St. Catharine, 221.—The ensemble of the scene, 222.—A sketch of one of the oldest monasteries in the world, 222.—Founded by the Emperor Justinian, 223.—Successive endowments by monarchs through intervening times, 223.—The camp by the convent wall, 223.—A thunderstorm at Sinai, 224.— Adventure with a jolly friar, 224.—Description of the convent buildings, 225.—The treasures of the chapel and shrine, 227.— Chapel of the Burning Bush, 228.—The charnel-house, 228.—The ascent of Mt. Sinai, 229.—What the Governor of North Carolina said to the Governor of South Carolina, 230.—Legends of the mountain, 231.—View from the mountain-top, 232.—The ancient manna, 236.—The valley of Feiran, 237.—The rival of Gebel Musa, 238.—Extreme healthfulness of the Sinaitic Peninsula, 238.— Ancient mines, 239.—Bas-reliefs and hieroglyphics, 239.—Arrival again at Suez, 240.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE SUEZ CANAL	241
Historic anticipation of the Suez Canal, 241.—The considerations that deterred the ancient Pharaoh, Necho, and the modern Pharaoh, Mehemet, 241.—Lesseps's first conception of the canal, 242.—A project forty years in hatching, 243.—Saïd's enthusiastic acceptance of the scheme, 243.—Ismail comes into power saddled with Saïd's pledges and a heavy debt, 244.—The corvé or forced labor system and its abolition at the instance of England, 245.—Ismail accepts the retrocession of the sweet-water canal and its adjacent lands, 246.—Extraordinary claims for indemnity, 246.—Napoleon III. as arbitrator gives a judgment of 84,000,000 francs against the Viceroy, 246.—The magnificent fêtes on the completion of the canal, 247.—England as a factor in the present status of the Suez Canal, 247.

CHAPTER XX.
THE CLIMATE OF EGYPT	248
Prevalent winds, 248.—Influence of the configuration of the country on the climate, 249.—Desert oases the most salubrious parts of the country, 249.—Changes of temperature, 249.—Ranges of heat in winter and summer, 249.—Differences between Alexandria and Cairo, 249.—Dangers to the invalid in going up the Nile, 250.— Sudden changes at night and in the early morning, 250.—Foreign and native physicians in Egypt, 251.—Anecdote of Dr. Warren Bey, 251.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE FUTURE OF EGYPT	252
English policy in Egypt, 252.—Excuse for retaining her army there, 253.—England responsible, 253.—Soudan and equatorial regions, 254.—Mehemet Ali conquers the Soudan, 254.—Central Africa and slave-hunters, 254.—The bloody trail of the slave-trader and kourbash, 254.—The touch of infamy by Abbas Pacha, 254.—Policy of Saïd Pacha, 254.—Effort of Ismail to extend his empire, 255.— Baker appointed Governor of the Dark Region, 255.—Chinese Gordon appointed, 256.—Explorations of English and American staff-officers, 256.—Elephants introduced, 257.—Gordon resigns, 258.—Reappointed with extraordinary powers, 259.—The Soudan in debt and boundaries diminished, 259.—Gordon retires again, 259.— Money legitimately expended, 260.—Rich lands and untouched treasuries, 260.—Untold possibilities for commerce, 260.—Vast acres for cotton and cane, 260.—England's opportunity and Egypt's hope, 260.—Assouan and Philæ the ancient boundary-line of Egypt, 261.—The camel and his carrying power, 263.—The Atbara River and its wonderful work, 265.—The town of Cassalla, 266.—Railroad scheme of Khedive, 270.—Greatest scheme of modern times, 270.— Teeming millions of “Les noir les negres,” 270.—Abandonment of Soudan, 272.—Wild pandemonium of slave-hunters, 273.—Ismail only man to govern, 273.—Ismail great loss to Egypt, 273.—Tewfik England's tool, 273.—Humiliating position, 273.—England refuses “to carry her own skin to market,” 273.—England's responsibility, 274.—Khartoum centre of trade, 274.—Title of Khedive, 274.—Backsheesh and Divine right, 274.—No sympathy for the slave, 274.— Ismail opposes slavery, 274.—Opinion in letter of General Stone, 274.—Disorganization of Soudan and El Mahdi's opportunity, 277.— Ruin of Egypt, 277.—The shadow of the stranger, 277.—History of El Mahdi, 278.—Birth and concealment, 279.—Last judgment and trumpet blast, 279.—El Mahdi takes advantage, 280.—Wahab, reformer and puritan of the desert, 280.—El Mahdi conquers Yusef, Hicks and Baker Pachas, 281.—Political importance, 281.—El Mahdi as a prophet, 282.—Mahometan belief in El Mahdi, 282.— Fired the Arab heart, 282.—Now called Kâdirîyeh Dervish, 283.— Holy men and mystical signs, 283.—Ex-Khedive's opinion, 284.— Influence of another Mahomet, 285.—Suez Canal insecure, 285.

Loring Pacha, Féreck and General	Frontispiece.
Map of Egypt, Abyssinia, and the Soudan	Facing p. 3
The Obelisk now in Central Park, New York, as it Stood in Alexandria, Egypt	10
Cleopatra, from the Ruins of Dendéra	16
Street in Cairo	30
Ismail Pacha, late Khedive of Egypt	72
Children of Ismail, late Khedive of Egypt	82
The Great Sphinx —Geezeh	90
Bust of Chephren or Shafed, Builder of the Second Geezeh Pyramid	92
Obelisk of Usurtasen I., at Heliopolis	94
Priests Preparing Mummy for Burial. Resurrection of the Body.	98
Head of Nefert-Ari-Aahmes, Queen of King Aahmes, Conqueror of the Hyksos	100
Harp-player. From an Egyptian Painting	102
Wooden Statue of Sheik-el-Beled	104
Profile of Ra-ho-tep. Face of Neferte	106
The Ancient Egyptians throwing the Virgin into the Nile	140
Egyptian Water-Wheel	144
Rameses II. and Three Sons Storming a Fortress	146
Thothmes II	150
Head of Queen Hatasou	152
Bust of Thothmes III	154
The Memnon Colossi, Thebes	156

Head of Rameses II., the Pharaoh who persecuted the Israelites.	Facing p. 158
Seti I. Worshipping Osiris, Isis, and Horus	160
Court in the Temple of Ramesis III	162
Egyptian Pharaoh in a War-Chariot, Warrior, and Horses	164
Ruined Avenue of Sphinxes	166
Tewfik Pacha, Khedive of Egypt	184
Head of Menephthah, the Pharaoh of the Exodus	212
The Plain before Sinai, where the Israelites were Encamped	222
De Lesseps	240
Bedouin of the Desert and his Camel	252
Remains of Small Temple at Philæ	260
Ancient Rock-cut Tomb	262
Looking South from Temple Roof at Philæ	264
Modern Slave-Boat on the Nile	272
King John	290
Lake Tzana	312
Obelisk at Axum	316
Bridge Across the Blue Nile	320
Abyssinian Girl	324
Coptic Church at Adoua	328
Hassan Pacha, Son of Ismail	330
Ratib Pacha, Commander of the Egyptian Army in Abyssinia.	360
Map of Plains of Gura and Haala	402
The Battle of Fort Gura	424
Palace at Gondar	438

Title: A Confederate Soldier in Egypt [Electronic Edition]

Title: A Confederate Soldier in Egypt

A Confederate Soldier in Egypt [Electronic Edition]

Contents