Visit to the Governor of Cairo. Court of the Mamelukes. Their
massacre. Schools in the Citadel. Court of Justice. Palace of the
Pasha. View from it. The “City of Tombs.” A human monster. Plain of
Memphis. Heliopolis. Mosque of the bloody baptism. Joseph’s Well.
Mint. Manufactory of Arms. The Citadel. “The Lions.”
Early in the morning of the 21st we found the grooms with our horses in
the court below, and after breakfast mounted for a visit of ceremony
to the Abdi Effendi, the governor of the city. The carriage was
waiting in an adjoining bazaar, where it had been compelled to stop
by the narrowness of the streets; and here our cavalcade was formed
in the following order: 1. Two Cavasses; 2. The carriage; 3. Eight
Cavasses; 4. Two Chaouishes; 5. A Master of the Horse; 6. Dragoman;
next the Commodore and Consul, and after them the remaining officers
of the party. Having traversed the whole length of the city, we
began, near its southern outskirts, to ascend, and presently found
ourselves before the frowning walls of the citadel of Cairo. Here, in
this strong eyrie, well guarded both by nature and art, the Pasha of
Egypt has built his palace, and gathered his treasures, and formed
his arsenal for arms. The citadel stands on a spur from the range of
Kebel Mokattam, the mountains that, stretching along on the East, help
to form the valley of the Nile. Here they make a bend and stretch
off far to the eastward; and at the angle, on an irregular platform
thrown off from it, the citadel was built, or at least enlarged to its
present dimensions, in the 12th century, by the famous Saladin. It is
a place of great strength, and may be considered as the key of all the
upper parts of Egypt. On passing the heavy exterior gateway, we found
ourselves in the court, where, twenty-five years ago, by order of
Mohammed Ali, was perpetrated the bloody massacre of the Mamelukes. It
is of irregular shape, with high walls on one side, and on the others
steep ascents or precipices, surmounted by ramparts, above which again
are heavy buildings, and among them the ruins of Saladin’s palace. It
was a place well chosen for such a butchery, and the whole plan of
operations was strikingly characteristic of the man.
It will, perhaps, be recollected by the reader that the Mamelukes, as
a distinct body, owed their origin to Saladin, who, distrusting his
native troops, formed a body-guard of slaves, procured by purchase
or capture from the countries bordering on the Caspian. They rose
gradually under successive sultans, and all the fortresses at length
being trusted to them, they concluded to turn the power to their own
use, and through their Beys became the governors of Egypt. Various,
after this, were their changes of fortune; the hardy soldiers, being
generally successful in the field, but circumvented by their cunning
adversaries in the council-room. The French found in them most
obstinate and determined opposers; and when, at the close of this
war, the British arms were triumphant, Lord Hutchinson demanded of
the Sultan of Constantinople, to whom the country was yielded, the
restitution of the Mamelukes to their former privileges. He promised
compliance, but had determined on the extinction of this race of
dangerous subjects. The Turkish admiral, who was sent for this purpose,
first enticed a great number of them to a pleasure excursion in boats
off Aboukir, and his ships opening fire upon them, the greater portion
were destroyed. War with their race being thus declared, Mohammed Ali,
then first rising into notice, was sent with a force against them,
but was defeated and compelled to retreat. This was the origin of the
inveteracy of Mohammed Ali towards the Mamelukes.
On the invasion of Egypt by the English in 1807, the Beys united with
the rising Pasha; but it was only a momentary truce; and the defeat of
the English, giving him secure possession of Egypt, sealed at the same
time the fate of his too trustful allies. He immediately formed a plan
for the total destruction of the Mamelukes. His son Tousson was about
this time preparing to lead an army against the Wahabees, and as this
was a religious war, it was determined to invest him with the command
under circumstances of unusual splendor. The Mameluke Beys were invited
to the ceremony, which was to commence in the citadel. They came, led
by their chief, Chahyn Bey; and a more splendid cavalcade never filed
in through the portals of this fortress. They amounted to 470 men, on
horseback, together with about an equal number of attendants of the
same race on foot. Their reception was flattering. The Pasha addressed
them individually, and with a bland aspect and smiles, welcomed them to
the festivities. At length it was necessary to form a procession, and
the Mamelukes were honored by being put in a body near the head of it:
they filed down and entered this rocky court; but when their whole body
had gained it, the gates were suddenly shut both in front and rear, and
they found themselves cruelly entrapped. The heights above were in a
moment covered with the Pasha’s soldiers, and a deadly fire was poured
down on them. Rage and execration were in vain: they were coolly shot
down till not an individual remained alive. One of the Beys escaped by
spurring his horse up the steep outer wall; in the descent the animal
was dashed to pieces, but the rider was unhurt.
This was the end of the Mamelukes. On the following day the soldiers
rushed into the city, and under pretext of searching for more victims,
plundered a large part of it before the Pasha and his son durst venture
out to repress their fury.
Our horses, on reaching this bloody court, seemed themselves to be
seized with the very spirit of violence; for pricking their ears,
they rushed up the steep ascent with headlong speed, and, whirling
through Saladin’s court, and then through a larger one, brought us up
at length in front of the governor’s palace. It is a long building
and spacious, but is otherwise by no means remarkable. Abdi Effendi
has been in England and France, and speaks the language of the latter
country fluently. He received us with great politeness, and entertained
us with the usual eastern hospitalities. His questions with regard
to our own country were pertinent, and evinced a good knowledge of
its laws and institutions. He spoke in terms of high admiration of
his own sovereign; and indeed Mohammed Ali seems to have the faculty
of creating a strong attachment for himself in all his officers. The
governor said that if the Pasha could live twenty years longer, he
would make Egypt more civilized and more prosperous than it has ever
yet been; but added, that he stood all alone, and greatly needed some
one who could be a second self to him.
From the audience-hall we were taken to visit a number of schools
in the same building; they occupy a number of rooms, and contained
altogether four hundred youths, preparing for public employments in
the country. As far as I could judge, they seemed to be awkwardly
conducted. At the extreme end of the building we came to the Hall of
Justice, where, on an ottoman and all alone, sat the judge, a man of
prodigious corporeal dimensions. He was at this time unemployed, but
our attention was drawn to a new mat with which the floor was covered.
It had just been put down in place of one that, a few days before,
had been worn through by the writhings of a poor wretch, who had been
bastinadoed here; the punishment having followed close on the heels, if
not of justice, at least of the culprit.
The adjoining side of the court into which this palace looks, is
formed by a large palace of Mohammed Ali, to which, in the course of
sight-seeing, we were next conducted. It is quite new, and in some
parts not quite finished; and is more remarkable for the airy and
spacious character of the rooms than for any beauties of architecture.
Indeed, all the palaces which we visited in Egypt, though cool and
spacious, are marked by great simplicity. A hall of great width passes
across at the centre of the building, and is intersected by another
of somewhat narrower dimensions, running lengthwise; and thus at each
angle a chamber is formed. These chambers are carpeted, and have the
most luxurious ottomans passing quite around. These, with sometimes
a glass lustre suspended from the lofty ceiling, constitute the only
furniture. In the palace, which we were now visiting, the ottomans
were covered with the richest French silks, with raised figures in
beautiful patterns worked on them. In front of the seats hung down an
impenetrable veil of silken tassels.
And now let us rest ourselves for a while on these tempting seats,
here by these lofty windows, from which we may look down over all the
wide-spread landscape. The ladies of the Commodore’s family have gone
to visit the Sultana, and it will be some time before they return; and
a better place for a view over all the city and the country beyond,
we could not desire. The palace is built on the highest part of the
citadel, and enjoys, indeed, a very extensive prospect, and even at
this sultry hour we are here fanned by a delightful breeze.
There, look below where the mountains of Mokattam turn off towards the
east, you see between them and the city a great number of buildings
of remarkable and light Saracenic architecture, standing alone on
the sandy waste. This is “The city of Tombs;” the burying-place of
the nobles of modern Cairo. Many of these edifices, consisting, as
you perceive, of domes supported, by tall slender columns, are the
tombs of the Mamelukes when their race was in power; but there you
observe one larger than all the rest, surmounted by three domes, and
remarkable for its light but rich style of architecture; that is the
Mausoleum belonging to the family of Mohammed Ali. Its three chambers
are enriched with tombs of Italian marble, and their marble floors are
covered with Persian or Turkey carpets. Some of his wives and two of
his children are buried here; and every Friday (the Moslem sabbath)
their tombs are covered with Cashmere shawls. Here lies also buried the
infant daughter of Ibrahim Pasha, taken off in innocent childhood;
and close by is the recently interred body of Defterden Bey, a very
tiger in cruelty, and as vile a monster as has ever lived. He was sent
to this country when it was still subject to the Sultan, to watch the
Pasha and collect the revenue of his master at Constantinople: but
it is supposed that a large part of it went no further than his own
pockets; for in a short time he grew immensely rich. He was, indeed,
at length inferior in wealth only to the Pasha himself. He owned the
garden in which the brave Kleber was assassinated. He was often in
power; and his favorite mode of punishment was to bury the criminal
up to his neck in quick-lime, and thus leave him to perish. On one
occasion, his farrier having neglected to shoe a favorite horse
according to his directions, he ordered the shoes to be nailed to the
feet of the smith himself. The man died in a few hours in the greatest
agonies.
On another occasion, when the Pasha’s son Ishmael had been
treacherously burnt in his tent in upper Egypt, Defterden Bey was sent
to examine into the affair and punish the culprits. He called the
inhabitants of the district together, to the number of 10,000, and in
revenge burnt them all to death, including women and children; and then
plundered the country.
He kept a pet lion, which by some means or other he had attached or
awed into gentleness to himself; and one of his amusements consisted in
throwing meat to the animal, and then ordering his attendants to take
it away; on which the animal often flew at them and tore them to pieces.
This is only a portion of the inhuman acts, of which he was guilty;
but, the earth at last grew weary of the monster; and his royal master
seems to have grown weary of him also; for one day, after drinking
coffee with the Pasha, he went home, was immediately taken sick, and
died. Mohammed Ali seized on his immense property, and then honored the
body by a burial place in his own tomb.
But observe now that river, how peacefully it glides along, unceasing
in its flow, and ever distributing comfort and happiness to the dense
population along its banks. Such are Heaven’s dealings to us. What a
contrast to this has ever been presented here in men’s dealings towards
each other. Say, is man still in the image of his maker?
Our eyes glance on the other side of the river, over the site of
Memphis. The western mountains there recede about eight miles from
the stream, and it is supposed that the whole of this was covered by
its magnificent temples and its dwellings; now the very site of it is
disputed by some persons; at all events its ruin is so complete, that
objects can no longer be distinguished. Just below it is the Plain of
Mummies, still tenanted, as it has been for ages, by forms of human
beings that move not and speak not. Men there are at peace with each
other. Over this well-peopled but silent city of the dead, we see the
small Pyramids of Sakhara: and further down, at a distance of six or
eight miles, arise the stupendous structures, the Pyramids of Ghizeh. I
have never looked at them without a feeling of awe.
Between us and them, on the western bank of the river, is the little
village of Ghizeh, from which they take their modern name; and still
nearer to us, on the eastern bank, is the village of Old Cairo, now
worthy of note only as the port for boats from upper Egypt. Between
it and the larger city of its name you are noticing some hillocks,
that seem remarkable objects on this level plain. They are composed of
pottery and other rubbish from the city; and your memory will supply
you with another example of such hillocks in the neighborhood of Rome.
In the latter city the merchants have dug into the base, and formed
wine-cellars, which are said to answer admirably well. Near these of
old Cairo is also an ancient aqueduct, a fine looking object on the
landscape, but useless, as it is now in ruins.
And now look directly north, about eight miles, and you see--no, you
cannot see a solitary pillar standing on the open and deserted plain.
There is not even a vestige of a ruin near it; and yet there stood in
ancient times the great and the learned, as well as the splendid, city
of Heliopolis, or “The City of the Sun.” It was of vast extent, and had
many large temples; among them one dedicated to the sun, with a mirror
so disposed as, during the whole day, to reflect the rays of that
luminary into the body of the edifice. Thither came the scholars of
ancient times to drink from the streams of knowledge; there Herodotus
acquired his lore; and, above all, there Plato studied; and there,
too, it is supposed that Moses “was taught in all the learning of the
Egyptians.” But neither grandeur nor knowledge itself could avail to
save it; and of its many splendid structures, but a single column
remains to mark its site.
But here at our feet is Cairo, teeming with life, and with the human
passions all at work; and yet it seems like a city of the dead. We
hear no sound, no cry; life seems to be stagnant there; but it is not.
The surface is not greatly ruffled, but beneath it the passions are
fermenting: who shall follow them in their various changes and their
devious windings? But we will not philosophise. Here, just below us,
is the mosque of Sultan Hassan; and, as our time is short, we will
hasten to occupy ourselves with its singular history; a history that
has a strong dash of the Arabian Nights, and yet is solemn truth, that
may be told in open day. This is the largest, and in its architecture
the most imposing mosque in Cairo. It is massy, and ornamented with
heavy mouldings; and though of the Saracenic style, is a solid and
substantial building. And now for its history.
About two centuries ago lived Sultan Hassan, a sovereign prosperous and
beloved, but withal somewhat eccentric. He had every thing to make him
contented, but there rose up in him, by and by, a strong desire to
travel. He longed to see foreign lands; to study the living world; to
hear the sages of other climes; and, if possible, to turn philosopher
himself. The royalty that acted as a barrier to the gratification of
his wishes, became at length odious to him, and he determined for a
while to lay it aside, and to travel as a private individual. He sent,
therefore, for his prime minister or Vizier, and after a confidential
interview, delivered to him in trust, during the sovereign’s absence,
the sceptre of honor and the throne of state. He himself left the
kingdom, and all traces of him were speedily lost. He now assumed the
appearance of a merchant, and under this character travelled through
many and far distant lands. He went wherever curiosity enticed him,
toiling on from place to place, in hopes that at each it would still
its unquiet yearnings and be satisfied; he studied man in every variety
of character; he conversed with the wise men of every country, and at
length he became a wise man himself, which was evinced by a resolution
to return forthwith and be contented at home. Curiosity, he found, only
gathered strength by each gratification; the world and its notions were
a greater puzzle to him than at the beginning; and what little he knew
of them, made him afraid to examine further; and as to wisdom itself,
he found it every where less valued than money, and was astonished
to see even himself, by and by, deserting the pursuit of it for the
pursuit of wealth. He was rapidly successful in his dealings, and grew
very rich; and now, ending where he had begun in his boyhood, with
believing that Egypt was the best and happiest country in the world, he
set out forthwith on his return.
But a disappointment awaited him. His faithless Vizier, concluding
that the power which he found so agreeable for a short time, would be
agreeable through life, had established himself firmly on the throne;
and the old Sultan, on reaching the confines of his country, found that
the very name of Hassan had been interdicted to his people, and that
he was apparently forgotten. He kept his disguise, and, safe in the
changes which time and exposure, and a long beard had wrought on his
face, he travelled on, and found himself at length once more in Cairo.
The wealthy merchant soon had many friends, and his business continuing
to prosper, he applied by and by for permission to erect a mosque, as
an act of thanksgiving to Allah for his numerous favors. The request
was granted, and the foundations of this mosque, closely adjoining
the citadel, were laid with the usual ceremonies. Under pretext of
strengthening the edifice in so unstable a soil, he laid the groundwork
strong and deep, and secured it moreover with numerous arches or
vaults. The building rose, and the populace came in multitudes to
look at the huge edifice and praise the piety of the liberal-handed
merchant, who before long found that he had established a throne, at
least in the hearts of the people. He was aiming, however, at a more
substantial throne. He had by this time filled the deep vaults with
men, whom by liberal pay he had engaged to wait there for his bidding,
and whom he daily practised with the scimitar, till there was not one
among them who could not at a blow sever without disarranging the light
tuft of down, the acme of a Turkish swordsman’s ambition. The edifice
was finished, and a grand building, as you perceive, it really is;
and the new courtiers, in their way back and forth between the palace
and the city, stopped to applaud the zeal of the pious merchant; nor
dreamed for a moment of the pandemonium beneath. It is customary when a
mosque is consecrated to give it also a name; and this having now been
finished, a day was appointed for these ceremonies; and as the edifice
was so highly ornamental to the city, the Sultan himself consented to
grace the occasion with his presence. He came with a great retinue
of courtiers and a line of guards; and splendid indeed was the scene
within the proud and stately edifice. The merchant himself was placed
in a conspicuous and an honorable station. The ceremony commenced,
and the prayers were said; and the Mufti at length, turning to the
merchant, bade him pronounce the name by which his pious offering to
Allah should be known. He rose from his seat, and while all leaned
forward to catch the sound, he replied, “Call it Sultan Hassan.” The
multitude started as if each had been bitten by a serpent, and the
Mufti grew pale; but recovering himself, demanded if he had heard him
aright. “Yes,” he cried, as a curtain rose at one end and disclosed the
name in large letters of gold: “call it by my name, by that of your
sovereign, Sultan Hassan;” and at the words, his myrmidons, who had
been led up from the vaults and distributed through the church, falling
on the astonished usurper and his train, put them all to the sword.
From thence they rushed to the citadel, of which they got possession;
and before the sun went down, Sultan Hassan was once more proclaimed
sovereign of Egypt.
Such was the history of this building, as it was narrated to us on the
spot. One of the Cavasses offered to show me the interior if I would
disguise myself like a Turk; but as I felt no disposition to put my own
neck to hazard in this mosque of the bloody baptism, I satisfied myself
with looking at the outer walls.
Close adjoining it are some lions, however, which are worthy of a
visit. They are just from the deserts, and are very different from
the abused and broken-spirited animals exhibited in our country and
in Europe. They are confined in a room of no great dimensions, and
are fastened only by a chain attached to the wall; and if any man,
who calls himself one of the lords of creation, would meditate on the
justice of his vaunted title, I would advise him to go and do it in
this den of lions.
The ladies of our party returned, after an absence of about an hour,
greatly delighted with their visit; they were, I believe, the first
foreign ladies ever permitted to enter this part of the palace, and
were allowed to depart only on the promise of a longer visit as soon as
circumstances would admit.
From the Pasha’s palace we proceeded to visit “Joseph’s Well,” a deep
pit for supplying the citadel with water, dug, however, not by the
Joseph of our Scriptures, but by Saladin, whose name, I believe, was
also Yousef or Joseph. It consists of two shafts, the upper about
150 feet in depth and 45 in diameter, with a winding gallery around,
separated from the shaft by a wall pierced with openings for the
admission of light. This is all cut out of the solid rock. The lower
shaft is about 120 feet in depth, making altogether 270 feet. The water
is raised to the top of the first shaft by means of oxen, and poured
into a reservoir, whence it is carried up in a similar manner to a
reservoir in the citadel; but it is brackish, and used for drinking
only in times of siege.
Mounting our horses once more, we returned through the court of the
Mamelukes, and at its further extremity, within the citadel, alighted
to examine an extensive manufactory of fire-arms. They first took us
to a foundry of brass cannon in active operation, and thence to a
suite of rooms where some hundreds of native workmen were employed
manufacturing muskets, pistols, swords, and gun-carriages, &c., in
rolling sheet copper for the navy, and in making bolts and sheathing
nails. They manufacture here 36,000 muskets annually, with pistols and
sabres to correspond. The various parts of the musket are made exactly
of the same size, so that if any part is injured, it can be immediately
replaced. The different branches are superintended by foreigners,
mostly from France; but the master workmen are all natives of the
country, many of them having been sent abroad to qualify them for these
stations.
The mint is also kept in the citadel, and on a subsequent visit they
took us over every part, explaining the whole process of money-making,
and striking for us impressions on paper of all their coins. The
machinery is old and clumsy, but they had just imported a new set
made of cast iron from England, which they were about putting into
operation. We found the superintendent of the mint, an old man with
a superb white beard, poring over a great atlas just printed at
Constantinople, and sadly puzzled with its labyrinths. He seemed
quite grateful for a little assistance we were able to give him in
comprehending them.