position of the savior of the Khedive if not of Egypt. Her soldiers had
crushed the rebellion, and as she had sent her Only General and one of
the royal family and many thousands of good men to do it, and as she had
lost not only men, but money, she thought she deserved something in
return. The something she has taken in return has been taken gradually,
and is the control of Egypt at the present day. It is possible that had
the English not lost many more men and much more money in the campaign
in the Soudan, which followed immediately after the suppression of
Arabi, they might not have gone so far as they have gone in settling
themselves in Egypt. But there was a not unnatural feeling that the
Soudan campaign, which had cost so much, and which was a failure in all
but in showing the bravery of the British troops, ought to be paid for,
or made up to the English in some way. I should like to go into the
story of this most picturesque and heroic of campaigns, but it would
require a book by itself. Its history is briefly this: The religious
and military chieftain known as "the Mahdi," shortly after the defeat of
Arabi, threatened all Egypt from the Soudan, which rose under his
leadership. General Hicks, an Englishman, with ten thousand men, in the
service of the Khedive, was sent against him. He was killed, and most of
the troops with him. The English, who were at that time the only power
in Egypt with authority of any sort back of it, and who were virtually
in control, felt that they should take the responsibilities of their
position as well as its benefits, and avenge the massacre, drive back
the Mahdi's forces, and, if possible, crush him and them for all time.
The campaign was later further complicated by the presence at Khartoom
of Major-General C. G. Gordon, who had gone there to lead back in safety
the Egyptian troops still remaining in the Soudan. He was, after his
arrival at Khartoom, virtually a prisoner at that place, which is a mud
city on the banks of the Nile far above the fifth cataract. The attempts
to rescue him and to suppress the Mahdi were equally unsuccessful.
This is, in a few words, the story of a campaign which has been
unequalled within the last twenty years in picturesqueness, heroism, and
dramatic surprises. It had been said that the old days of personal
bravery, of hand-to-hand slaughter, and of the attack and defence of man
against man, were at an end; that owing to the new weapons of war, by
which an enemy can be attacked when several miles distant from the
attacking party, when the pressing of an electric button destroys an
army corps, and when turning a handle will send three hundred bullets a
minute into a mass of infantry, the necessity for personal courage was
over. But seldom in history has there been as fierce personal encounters
as in the Soudan, or as unusual methods of warfare. On the one hand were
the naked supporters of the Mahdi, armed with their spears and knives,
and protected only by bull-hide shields, but actuated by a religious
fanaticism that drove them exulting at their enemies, and with no fear
of death, but with the belief that through it they would gain joyous and
proud immortality. Against them were the British troops, outnumbered ten
to one, with hundreds of miles of sandy desert before, behind, and on
every side of them, cut off from communication with the outside world,
in a country barren and unfamiliar, and attacked by tens of thousands,
who came when they pleased and where they pleased, rising as swiftly as
a sand-storm rises, and disappearing again as suddenly into the desert.
When I was in Cairo I was told of one of the Mahdi's men who continually
rushed at a British square during an engagement holding his shield clear
of his body as he advanced to throw a spear, and then retreated again.
This looked like the worst form of foolhardiness to the English, until
they saw that he was protecting with his shield his little boy, who was
hiding behind it, and that when the chance offered, this child, who
could not have been more than seven, and who was as naked of protection
as his father, would throw a spear of his own. The father was wounded
four times, but each time the bullet struck him he only shook himself,
as a dog shakes off water, and once more rushed forward. When he fell
for the last time the boy tumbled across him, unconscious from a wound
in his thigh. The surgeons dressed this wound and bandaged it; but when
the child came to and saw what they had done, he leaped up and tore the
clothes from around him, and then, as the blood from the reopened wound
ran out, fell over backwards dead. The English officer who told this
story asked if fighting such men could be considered agreeable work from
any point of view.
[Illustration: H. H. ABBAS II.
Khedive of Egypt]
But the Soudan is only of interest here as showing how, having lost so
much through it, the British did not feel more inclined than before to
evacuate Egypt, although there were many who thought, as a few still
think, that Egypt has cost them too much already, and more than they can
ever get back. The loss of Gordon was perhaps the disaster of all the
most keenly felt. How keenly is shown partly by the statue the English
have placed to him in Trafalgar Square, surrounded by their kings and
greatest generals. It shows him with one foot placed on the battlement
of Khartoom, with his arms folded, and with the head thrown slightly
forward, looking out, as he had done for so many weary months, for the
relief that came too late. This monument is a reproach to those whose
uncertainty of mind and purpose cost Gordon his life. It was doing a
brave thing to put it up in a public place, being, as it is, a standing
reminder of the neglect and half-heartedness that lost a valuable life,
and one that had been risked again and again for his country. It is not
only a monument to General Gordon, but to the English people, who have
had the courage to admit in bronze and stone that they were wrong.
For the last ten years the English have been as tardy in getting out of
Egypt as they were in going after Gordon into the Soudan. They have
repeatedly declared their intention of evacuating the country, not only
in answer to questions in the House, but in answer to the inquiries of
foreign powers. But they are still there. They have not been idle while
there, and they have accomplished much good, and have brought benefits
innumerable to Egypt. They have improved her systems of irrigation, upon
which the prosperity of the land depends, have strengthened her army,
have done away with the corvee, or tax paid on labor, and with the
kurbash, or whip used in punishment, and, what is much the most
wonderful, they have brought her out of ruin into such a condition of
prosperity that she not only pays the interest on her enormous debt, but
has a little left over for internal improvements. There has also been a
marked change for the better in the condition of the courts of justice,
and there has been an extension of a railroad up the Nile as far as
Sirgeh.
But the English to-day not only want credit for having done all this,
but they want credit for having done it unselfishly and without hope or
thought of reward, and solely for the good of mankind and of Egypt in
particular. They remind me of those of the G. A. R. who not only want
pensions and medals, but to be considered unselfish saviors of their
country in her hour of need. There is no reason why a man should not be
held in honor for risking his life for his country's sake, and honors,
if he wants them, should be heaped upon him, but not money too. He
either served his country because he was loyal and brave, or because he
wanted money in return for taking certain risks. Let him have either the
honors or the money, but he should not be so greedy as to want both.
England has made a very good thing out of Egypt, and she has not yet got
all she will get, but she wants the world to forget that and look upon
her as an unselfish and enlightened nation that is helping a less
prosperous and less powerful people to get upon their feet again. Of
course it is none of our business (at least it is our policy to say so)
when England stalks forth like a roaring lion seeking what she may
devour all over the world. Americans travel chiefly upon the Continent,
and unless they go into out-of-the-way corners of the world they have no
idea how little there is left of it that has not been seized by the
people of Great Britain. For my own part I find one grows a little tired
of getting down and sailing forth and landing again always under the
shadow of the British flag. If the United States should begin with
Hawaii and continue to annex other people's property, we should find
that almost all of the best corner lots and post-office sites of the
world have been already pre-empted. Senator Wolcott once said to Senator
Quay: "I understand, Quay, you want the chairmanship of the Library
Committee. You seem to want the earth; if you don't look out you will
interfere with my plans."
If the United States had taken away the little princess's island from
her and continued to plunder weaker nations, she would have found that
England wants the earth too, and that she is in a fair way of getting it
if some one does not stop her very soon. There are a number of good
people in England who believe that for the last ten years their
countrymen have spent their time and money in redeeming Egypt as a form
of missionary work, and there are others quite as naive who put the
whole thing in a word by saying, "What would we do with our younger sons
if it was not for Egypt?"
[Illustration: THE GUN MULE OF THE MULE BATTERY]
Three-fourths of the officers in the army of the Khedive are English
boys, who rank as second lieutenants at home and as majors in Egypt.
They are paid just twice what they are paid in the English army, and it
is the Khedive who pays them and not the English. In this way England
obtains three things: she is saved the cost of supporting that number of
officers; she gets the benefit of their experience in Egypt, which is an
excellent training-school, at the expense of the Egyptians; and she at
the same time controls the Egyptian army by these same officers, and
guards her own interests at Egypt's cost. And as if this were not
enough, she plants an Army of Occupation upon the country, and with it
menaces the native authority. The irrigation of Egypt has of late been
carried on by Englishmen entirely and paid for by Egypt; her railroads
are built by the English; her big contracts are given out to English
firms and to English manufacturers; and the railroad which will be built
to Kosseir on the Red Sea may have been designed in Egypt's interest to
carry wheat, or it may have been planned to carry troops to the Red Sea
in the event of the seizure of the Suez Canal or of any other impediment
to the shortest route to India. We may not believe that the Egyptians
are capable of governing themselves, we may believe that it is written
that others than themselves shall always rule them and their country,
but we must prefer that whoever do this should declare themselves
openly, and act as conquerors who come and remain as conquerors, and not
as "advisers" and restorers of order. Napoleon came to Cairo with flags
flying and drums beating openly as an enemy; he did not come in the
disguise of a missionary or an irrigation expert.
And there is always the question whether if left alone the Egyptians of
the present day could not govern themselves. Those of the Egyptians I
met who were in authority are not men who are likely to return to the
debauchery and misrule of Ismail. They would be big men in any country;
they are cultivated, educated gentlemen, who have served in different
courts or on many important diplomatic missions, and whose tastes and
ambitions are as creditable and as broad as are those of their English
contemporaries.
The two most prominent advisers of the Khedive at present are his
Prime-minister, Riaz Pasha, and his Minister of Foreign Affairs, Tigrane
Pasha. The first of these is a Turk, the second an Armenian and a
Christian. It is told of Riaz that he was brought to Egypt when a boy as
a slave. A man who can rise from such a beginning to be Prime-minister
must have something in him. He showed his spirit and his desire for his
country's good in the time of Ismail, whose extravagances both he and
Nubar Pasha strenuously opposed, and his aid to the English in
establishing Egyptian finance on a firmer footing was ready and
invaluable. He has held almost every position in the cabinet of Egypt,
and is not too old a man to learn new methods, and if left alone is
experienced and accomplished enough as a statesman to manage for
himself.
[Illustration: LORD CROMER,
The English Diplomatic Agent in Egypt]
Tigrane Pasha struck me as being more of a diplomat than a statesman,
but he showed his strength by the fact that he understood the weak
points of the Egyptians as well as their virtues. It is not the
enthusiast who believes that all in his country is perfect who is the
best patriot. To say that such a man as this--a man who has a better
knowledge of many different governments than half of the English cabinet
have of their own, and who wishes the best for his Khedive and his
country--needs the advice or support of an English resident minister, is
as absurd as to say that the French cabinet should govern themselves by
the manifestoes of the Comte de Paris. These men are not barbarians nor
despots; they have not gained their place in the world by favor or
inheritance. Their homes are as rich in treasures of art and history and
literature as are the homes of Lord Rosebery or Sir Henry Drummond
Wolff, and if they care for their country and the authority of their
Khedive, it is certainly hard that they may not have the right of
serving both undisturbed.
The Khedive himself has been very generally represented through the
English press as a "sulky boy" who does not know what is best for him.
It is just as easy to describe him as a plucky boy who wishes to govern
his own country and his own people in his own way. And not only is he
not allowed to do this, but he is treated with a lack of consideration
by his protectors which adds insult to injury, and makes him appear as
having less authority than is really his. He might very well say to Lord
Cromer, "It was all very well to dissemble your love, but why did you
kick me down-stairs?"
Sir Evelyn Baring, now Lord Cromer, and the ruling figure in Egypt, has
served his country as faithfully and as successfully as any man in her
debt to-day. He has been in Egypt from the beginning of these ten years,
and he has been given almost unlimited power and authority by his own
country, of which his nominal position of Consul-General and Diplomatic
Agent is no criterion. He is a typical Englishman in appearance,
broad-shouldered and big all over, with a smooth-shaven face, and the
look of having just come fresh from a bath. In conversation he thinks
much more of what he has to say than of how he says it; by that I mean
that he is direct, and even abrupt; the Egyptians found him most
unpleasantly so. But were he more tactful, he would probably have been
better liked personally, but would not have succeeded in doing what he
has done so well.
I do not like what he has done, but I want to be fair in showing that
for the work he was sent to do he is probably the best man England could
have selected. A man less self-reliant might have feared to compromise
himself with home authorities, and would have temporized and lost where
Lord Cromer bullied and browbeat and won. He is a very remarkable man.
He studies for a half-hour every day after breakfast, and plays tennis
in the afternoon. When he is in his own room, with a pipe in his mouth,
he can talk more interestingly and with more exact knowledge of Egypt
than any man in the world, and your admiration for him is unbounded. In
the rooms of the legation, on the contrary, or, again, when advising a
minister of the Khedive or the Khedive himself, he can be as intensely
disagreeable in his manner and as powerfully aggressive as a polar-bear.
During the last so-called "crisis" he gave the Khedive twenty-four hours
in which to dismiss his Prime-minister. He did this with the assurance
from the English Foreign Office that the home government would support
him. He then cabled with one hand to Malta for troops and with the other
stopped the Black Watch at Aden on their way to India, and called them
back to Cairo, after which he went out in full sight of the public and
banged tennis balls about until sunset. A man who can call out "forty,
love!" "forty, fifteen!" in a calm voice two hours after sending an
ultimatum to a Khedive and disarranging the movements of six thousand of
her Majesty's troops will get what he wants in the end, and a boy of
eighteen is hardly a fair match for him.
As I have said, the English press have misrepresented the young Khedive
in many ways. He is, in the first place, much older both in appearance
and manner and thought than his age would suggest, and if he is sulky to
Englishmen it is not to be wondered at. They could hardly expect his
Highness to regard them as seriously as his friends as they regard
themselves. The Khedive gave me a private audience at the Abdine Palace
while I was in Cairo, and from what he said then and from what others
who are close to him told me of him, I obtained a very different idea of
his personality than I had received from the English.
[Illustration: A GUN OF THE MULE BATTERY IN ACTION]
He struck me as being distinctly obstinate--a characteristic which is so
marked in our President that it can only be considered one of the
qualifications for success, and is probably the quality in the Khedive
which the English describe as sulkiness. What I liked in him most was
his pride in his army and in the Egyptian people as Egyptians. It is
always well that a ruler should be so enthusiastic over what is his own
that he shows it even to the casual stranger, for if he exhibits it to
him, how much more will he show it to his people! The Khedive has
gentle tastes, and is said to find his amusement in his garden and among
flowers and on the farm lands of his estates; he speaks several
languages very well, and dresses and looks--except for the fez and his
attendants--like any other young man of twenty-three or twenty-four in
Paris or New York. His ministers, who know him best, describe him as
having a high spirit, and one that, as he grows older and will be guided
by greater experience, will lead him to firmer authority for his own
good and for the good of his people.
One remark of the Khedive's which is of interest to Americans was to the
effect that the officers in his army who had been trained by Stone Bey,
and those other American officers who entered the Egyptian army after
the end of our Civil War, were, in his opinion, the best-trained men in
their particular department in his army. This is the topographical work,
and the making of maps and drawings; but those Americans who are in
charge of Egyptian troops on the frontier are also well esteemed. It is
the English, however, who have made the fighting part of the army what
it is. Before they came the troops were unpaid, and badly treated by
their officers, but now the infantry and the camel corps and artillery
have no trouble in getting recruits.
The Egyptian is not a natural fighter, as is the Soudanese, who fights
for love of it, but he has shown lately that when properly officered and
trained and well treated, he can defend a position or attack boldly if
led boldly. I suggested to the Khedive that he should borrow some of our
officers, those who have succeeded so well with the negroes of the Ninth
Cavalry and with the Indians, for it seemed to me that this would be of
benefit to both the officers and the Egyptian soldier. It was this
suggestion that called forth the Khedive's admiration for the Americans
of his army; but, as a matter of fact, the English would never allow
officers of any other nationality than their own to control even a
company of the Egyptian army. They cannot turn out those foreigners who
are already in, but they can dictate as to who shall come hereafter, and
they fill all the good billets with their own people; and if there is
one thing an Englishman apparently holds above all else, it is a "good
billet." I know a good many English officers who would rather be
stationed where there was a chance of their taking part in what they
call a "show," and what we would grandly call a "battle," than dwell at
ease on the staff of General Wolseley himself; but, on the other hand,
if I were to give a list of all the subalterns who have applied to me
for "good billets in America," where they seem to think fortunes grow on
hedges, half the regimental colors from London to Malta would fade with
shame.
And Egypt is full of "good billets." It is true the English have made
them good, and they were not worth much before the English restored
order; but because you have humanely stopped a runaway coach from going
over a precipice, that is no reason why you should take possession of it
and fill it both inside and out with your own friends and relations.
That is what England has done with the Egyptian coach which Ismail drove
to the brink of bankruptcy.
It is true the Khedive still sits on the box and holds the reins, but
Lord Cromer sits beside him and holds the whip.
VI
MODERN ATHENS
Perhaps the greatest charm of Athens and of the islands and mountains
round about it lies in their power to lure back your belief in a great
many fine people of whose remarkable deeds you had grown sceptical--of
whose existence even you had begun to doubt. It is something very
serious when one loses faith in so delightful a young man as Theseus,
and it is worth while sailing under the lee shores of Crete, where he
killed the Minotaur, if for no other purpose than to have your
admiration for him restored. If we could only be as sure of restoring by
travel all of those other people of whom our elders ceased telling us
when we left the nursery, I would head an expedition to the north pole,
not to discover open seas and altitudes and eclipses and such weighty
things, but to locate that nice and kindly old gentleman, and his toy
store and his reindeer, who used to come at Christmas-time, and who has
stopped coming since I left school. It is certainly worth while going
all the way to Greece to see the Hill of the Nymphs, and the very cave
where Pan used to sleep in the hot midday, and to thrill over the four
crossroads and the high, gloomy pass where the Sphinx lay in wait for
OEdipus with her cruel claws and inscrutable smile.
[Illustration: GREEK SOLDIER IN THE NATIONAL (ALBANIAN) UNIFORM]
The story that must always strike every child as most sad and
unsatisfactory is the one which tells us how the father of Theseus
killed himself when his son came sailing back triumphant, and so
gallantly engaged in entertaining the beautiful Athenian maidens whose
lives he had saved that he forgot to hoist the white sails, and caused
his father to throw himself off the high rocks in despair.
This used to appeal to me as one of the most pathetic incidents in
history; but as time wore on my sympathy for the father and indignation
against Theseus passed away, and I forgot about them both. But when they
point out where the black sails were first seen entering the bay, and
you stand on the rock from which the people watched for Theseus, and
from which his father threw himself down, you feel just as sorry, and
you rebel just as strongly against that morbid anticlimax, as you did
when you first read the story in knickerbockers. It seems almost too sad
to be true.