Two or three miles from Cairo, approached by an avenue of sycamores, is
Shubra, a favourite residence of the Pasha of Egypt. The palace, on the
banks of the Nile, is not remarkable for its size or splendour, but the
gardens are extensive and beautiful, and adorned by a Kiosk, which is
one of the most elegant and fanciful creations I can remember.
Emerging from fragrant bowers of orange trees, you suddenly perceive
before you, tall and glittering gates rising from a noble range of
marble steps. These you ascend, and entering, find yourself in a large
quadrangular colonnade of white marble. It surrounds a small lake,
studded by three or four gaudy barques fastened to the land by silken
cords. The colonnade terminates towards the water by a very noble marble
balustrade, the top of which is covered with groups of various kinds of
fish in high relief. At each angle of the colonnade, the balustrade
gives way to a flight of steps which are guarded by crocodiles of
immense size, admirably sculptured and all in white marble. On the
farther side, the colonnade opens into a great number of very brilliant
banqueting-rooms, which you enter by withdrawing curtains of scarlet
cloth, a colour vividly contrasting with the white shining marble of
which the whole Kiosk is formed. It is a favourite diversion of the
Pasha himself to row some favourite Circassians in one of the barques
and to overset his precious freight in the midst of the lake. As his
Highness piques himself upon wearing a caftan of calico, and a juba or
exterior robe of coarse cloth, a ducking has not for him the same
terrors it would offer to a less eccentric Osmanlee. The fair
Circassians shrieking with their streaming hair and dripping finery, the
Nubian eunuchs rushing to their aid, plunging into the water from the
balustrade, or dashing down the marble steps,--all this forms an
agreeable relaxation after the labours of the Divan.
All the splendour of the Arabian Nights is realized in the Court of
Egypt. The guard of Nubian eunuchs with their black glossy countenances,
clothed in scarlet and gold, waving their glittering Damascus sabres,
and gently bounding on their snow-white steeds, is, perhaps, the most
picturesque corps in the world. The numerous Harem, the crowds of civil
functionaries and military and naval officers in their embroidered Nizam
uniforms, the vast number of pages and pipe-bearers, and other inferior
but richly attired attendants, the splendid military music, for which
Mehemet Ali has an absolute passion, the beautiful Arabian horses and
high-bred dromedaries, altogether form a blending of splendour and
luxury which easily recall the golden days of Bagdad and its romantic
Caliph.
Yet this Court is never seen to greater advantage than in the delicious
summer palace in the gardens of Shubra. During the festival of the
Bairam, the Pasha generally holds his state in this enchanted spot, nor
is it easy to forget that strange and brilliant scene. The
banqueting-rooms were all open and illuminated, the colonnade full of
guests in gorgeous groups, some standing and conversing, some seated on
small Persian carpets smoking pipes beyond all price, and some young
grandees lounging in their crimson shawls and scarlet vests over the
white balustrade, and flinging their glowing shadow over the moonlit
water: from every quarter bursts of melody, and each moment the river
breeze brought gusts of perfume on its odorous wings.
_New Monthly Magazine_.
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