_Beys and Pashas_
NO one has had the heart to write the history of Egypt during the three
centuries of its subjection to the Sultans of Turkey, from its conquest
by Selím the Grim in 1516 to Mohammad ‘Aly’s foundation of a virtually
independent dynasty in 1805. The annals of this period are monotonous,
and the great figures of the earlier mamlúk period are wanting. The
whole action seems to be played upon a smaller stage by inferior
performers. The incentives to public spirit supplied by foreign wars
were withdrawn from a merely provincial government, and the profuse
expenditure and sumptuous luxury of a sovereign court no longer
stimulated art and handicrafts or quickened the emulation of the emírs.
The cramping influence of dependence and the grasping fiscal policy of
the Ottoman empire destroyed much of the old magnificence of the
mamlúks. Yet there was no such vivid contrast between Cairo under the
pashas and the city that Makrízy describes as has sometimes been
imagined. Everything in the East changes by almost imperceptible
degrees, and the mills of God in Egypt grind with the tedious slowness
of the creaking sákiyas of the country. Deterioration there was, but it
came very gradually. The emírs were still the dominant power, and the
chief difference was that instead of a sultan elected by themselves they
had over them a pasha appointed by the Sublime Porte. The pasha’s
authority was checked by a council of mamlúk emírs—or beys, as they came
to be called—and he was frequently deposed by them or by the intrigues
of the mutinous soldiery. Though a pasha might arrive with a suite of
twelve hundred persons, and scatter handkerchiefs full of gold coins on
festal occasions, he could seldom make head against the military
oligarchy. The chief mamlúk, or sheykh-el-beled (mayor of the city) as
he was entitled, was a far more powerful personage than the pasha. The
emírs were much what they had been under the Circassian dynasty: they
were not the same men, because Selím had massacred as many as he could
catch, but they were similar—Turks, Georgians, Circassians, risen from
slavery to office and rank,—and they maintained great state in their
palaces beside the Ezbekíya lake or on the Birket-el-Fil, in the
Crossway, or the Street of Arms; were followed by large bands of
retainers, and carried on their jealousies, civil wars, and street
fights with as much fervour as before. A new element of discord was
introduced by the Turkish battalions of ‘Azabs and Janizaries in the
Citadel barracks, and the commanders of these troops became the most
powerful emírs in Egypt. But these too were of precisely the same
character as the earlier mamlúks, and save for the absence of a
controlling influence such as a strong sultan sometimes exerted, but a
delegated pasha almost never, there was little to choose between the
state of Cairo under the new régime and its anarchic condition under the
impotent direction of most of the later Circassian kings.
Egypt in fact was still ruled by mamlúks. Its pashas were perpetually
changed, and lived in terror of their own garrison; the emírs held the
real power, and used it in the old way for their own benefit and for the
ruin by exile or execution of their rivals. They formed themselves into
powerful cliques, such as the Kásimis and the Fikáris, and their
retainers fought each other in the streets, and besieged the government
‘Azab troops for months together. They had already discovered that the
Citadel could be commanded by artillery on the hill behind. We read in
Gabárty’s chronicle of bands of troops fortifying themselves in the
mosques of Ibn-Tulún, Almás, Mahmudíya, and so forth, and discharging
cannon balls from the adjacent minarets. The anarchy at times was
indescribable; streets were deserted, houses plundered, and no man dared
to go as far as Bulák or Old Misr; then followed an interval of
tranquillity assured by the temporary supremacy of some great lord. It
is difficult to discover any very notable distinction between these
later emírs and those of the golden age of mamlúk civilization. Their
opportunities were less, because they could no longer carry on wars in
Syria or Asia Minor in their own behoof, for the contingents that were
constantly drafted in Egypt for foreign service were merely employed as
an insignificant part of the Ottoman armies. But their characters,
occupations, and tastes appear to have been much what they had been for
the preceding two centuries. There was a difference in degree but not in
kind: they were not as a rule such big men with large opportunities as
their forerunners, but in race, in character, in action, they were the
same.
Indeed some of them were remarkable personages fit to compare with those
of the old school. ‘Othmán Bey Dhu-l-fikár, for example, in the first
half of the eighteenth century,—after playing a bold part in the faction
fight that centred round his patron Dhu-l-fikár Bey and Cherkes Bey, and
seeing eleven emírs of rank done to death in the palace of the
Defterdár, himself narrowly escaping with a sabre-cut in his
turban,—became the most eminent noble in Cairo, with power to raise his
own mamlúks to the rank of emír. He was chief of the pilgrimage (emír-
el-hagg), one of the most coveted posts in Egypt, in 1739; and when ‘Aly
el-Gelfy the deputy[83] was assassinated, ‘Othmán Bey deposed the pasha
and appointed Rudwán to be deputy over the ‘Azab battalions. ‘Othmán was
the first emír who ventured to invite the pasha of Egypt to a feast in
his palace, and the other nobles were completely subject to him. He held
a court in his own house to decide causes of complaint, and,
incorruptible himself, he severely punished any cases of extortion or
oppression that came before him, watched the market-inspector closely,
prescribed a fixed tariff for bread and other necessaries of life, and
insisted on the due payment of pious benefactions to their proper uses.
Lofty in character, of noble ideas and thoughts, just, able,
disinterested, of honest life, and proud as Lucifer, he left such an
impression behind him, when the intrigues of his rivals banished him
from Egypt, that he created an era: one heard people say, “such a thing
happened so many years after the departure of ‘Othmán Bey,” or “I was
such and such an age when ‘Othmán Bey left.”
Rudwán el-Gelfy, just referred to, was another notable figure of the
eighteenth century. Whilst he and another deputy, Ibrahím, held office,
the country enjoyed absolute peace, food was cheaper than was ever known
before, and plenty reigned in all classes. In those days every great man
kept open house twice a day, noon and evening, in a spacious hall to
which all might enter. The lord and his guests sat at the head of the
table, and his mamlúks and followers lower down, as it were “below the
salt,” and it was held disgraceful to refuse admission to any stranger
who presented himself. On feast days great dishes of rice and honey or
milk were distributed to the poor, and sweetmeats were served on Fridays
and festivals. One of Rudwán’s houses was on the Ezbekíya, on the border
of the lake (as it then was, at least at high Nile). Its halls were
surmounted by cunningly designed domes, in which gold arabesques on a
blue ground harmonized with stained glass of many colours in charming
combination. He built kiosks in a garden beside the canal, where he had
laid out a lake and cascade, and there, when his ambition was satisfied,
he took his pleasure, which savoured, it must be confessed, of debauch.
Indeed Rudwán was no stern moralist, like ‘Othmán Bey, but allowed a
considerable licence to the fair ladies of Cairo. The police had his
orders not to disturb them or baulk their admirers,[84] and “Cairo then
resembled a land of gazelles, a paradise of houris and darlings; its
inhabitants drank their fill in the cup of delight, as though there were
no reckoning to be paid on the day of judgment.” No wonder that poets
sang his praises in such verses as “the Impurpled Wine” and “the Perfume
of Paradise.” Rudwán’s palace is no more to be seen in the Ezbekíya, but
his gate, the Bab-el-‘Azab, leading into the Citadel from the Rumeyla,
preserves his memory. His end was tragic. Conspirators surrounded his
house in the street of Kusún, and bullets began to pour in whilst he was
engaged in the meditative process of having his head shaved. He fought
while he had strength, and then, with a broken leg, struggled on
horseback and fled to die in upper Egypt. He was the last great
commander of the ‘Azabs.
It was not only the emírs who owned such splendid houses as Rudwán.
Another house on the Ezbekíya belonged to a famous merchant, Ahmad esh-
Sharáiby (the apothecary), whose family had produced emírs and owned
mamlúks. They possessed immense wealth, and they used it as high-minded,
honest gentlefolk. Learned men frequented their house, which was full of
rare manuscripts as well as ordinary works of reference. Whatever book
was in the market, if it was not in their library they bought it
regardless of the price; and once there it was immediately placed at the
disposal of every visitor. A scholar was sure to find any book he
required in the Sharáiby library, and he was at liberty to carry it off
on loan, or even to keep it altogether; for the princely merchants would
never think of asking its return, but would merely seek out and buy
another copy. From the scholar’s point of view it seems impossible to
improve upon this system. The members of this family were more than
enlightened book collectors and book lenders: they were strict observers
of the austere rule of the Málikis, tenacious of sound morals, and
exclusive in their connexions. They married only among their own large
family circle, and their daughters never left the house except when they
were married or borne to their grave. It was well to be cautious in days
when the luxurious Rudwán was encouraging amatory adventures, and when a
party of high-born dames, riding out to “smell the air,” as Cairo ladies
do now, at the proper season, were set upon near the Ezbekíya and
stripped of their jewels and every garment they had on. But the Sharáiby
folk, though strict, could unbend. When marriage feasts were afoot, for
example, they gave splendid entertainments, but so careful were they of
their daughters that they waited till all the guests were safely engaged
in prayer at the mosque of Ezbek[85] opposite the house, and then
hurried the bride off to her husband’s abode under guard of a discreet
body of matrons: after which there was plenty of gunfiring and torch
waving, and all was merry.
[Illustration: STREET NEAR BAB-EL-KHARK]
The family had the custom of appointing one of their number trustee of
all their property and business. It was his duty to collect the rents,
gather the harvest and crops, receive the profits of their ventures, and
pay all expenses, including the family’s dress and pocket-money. At the
end of the year he drew up his balance sheet and paid each member his
share. This excellent plan was not likely to last for ever, and one is
not surprised to learn that at last the younger members quarrelled over
the accounts, and the joint-stock company broke up in disorder. This was
no doubt an exceptional family; but there were many of the kind, and
there are some yet in Cairo, sterling honest folk, who walk in the old
paths and guard a severe self-respect.
The zeal for books displayed by this family casts an interesting light
upon the education and learning of the times. During the earlier mamlúk
days many important libraries had been formed in Cairo, partly from the
spoils of Syrian mosques, and if we are to take as evidence the long
biographies of numerous sheykhs, professors, divines, historians, and
poets, related with enthusiastic admiration by el-Gabarty, there was a
vast deal of intellectual energy expended in Egypt in the seventeenth
and eighteenth centuries, though perhaps it was hardly in the first rank
of original genius. He reports a curious conversation, however, in 1750,
between Ahmad pasha, a governor of mathematical tastes, and the sheykh
‘Abdallah esh-Shubrawy, of the Azhar. The pasha remarked that he had
continually heard of the wonderful merits of Egypt as the home of
learning, but he would like to see the results. “True, O my master,”
replied the sheykh, “Egypt is as you have heard, the mine of sciences
and knowledge.” “But where are they?” asked the pasha. “As far as I can
see, you know nothing but law and metaphysic and other less important
studies, and disdain practical science altogether.” The sheykh had to
admit that at the Azhar they did not teach mathematics, beyond
arithmetic, which was useful for the law of inheritance. “How about
astronomy?” suggested the pasha. “It is needed for the hours of prayer,
times of fast, and many other things.” The sheykh admitted that few
studied astronomy, which demanded special aptitudes, and instruments,
and physiological conditions, and a “sweet and tranquil disposition,”
for its proper pursuit; but he said he could find the man whom the pasha
wanted, though not in the Azhar. When the man appeared, it seems his
arithmetical problems delighted the governor, who gave him a fur cloak,
which the sage afterwards sold for 800 dinars. He drew beautiful sun-
dials, on marble, to show the hours of prayer, with appropriate mottoes,
and two of these were set up in the Azhar and on the roof of the mosque
of the Imám esh-Sháfi‘y.[86] One gathers from this anecdote, as well as
from the lists of works described by the historian, that study in Cairo
at that time was rather zealous than profound, and that learning was
decidedly in its decadence.
Religion, on the other hand, was more powerful than ever. The annals of
the pashalik are full of references to the influence of the Azhar
professors and of the seyyids, and we hear of something very near a
revolution when a Turkish preacher got up in the mosque of el-Muáyyad
and fulminated against the invocation of saints, a popular accretion
which is certainly no part of the creed of Mohammad. The preacher urged
the crowd to demolish the cupolas over the saints’ tombs, and the
orthodox professors of divinity had much trouble to silence him and
appease the crowd. There was often a very severe regulation of public
behaviour in deference to religious notions, and we find, for example, a
stern prohibition of smoking in the streets. Police marched up and down
three times a day, and if any smoker was caught he had to eat his pipe-
bowl. An old custom, mentioned by Násir-i-Khusrau (above, p. 109), was
still in force: a man who had falsified documents was paraded on
camelback through the streets, whilst a crier proclaimed, “Behold the
punishment of forgers!” The Cairenes were clearly very superstitious,
and when in 1735 a circumstantial rumour went round that the
Resurrection would certainly take place on the next Friday, in two days’
time, they bade each other last farewells, and wandered about the fields
and roads saying good-bye to the land they loved, whilst the people of
Giza, moved by a superstition which ran in their minds from ages long
before Islám was discovered, bathed hysterically in the Nile, both men
and women. There was nothing but panic and repentance and prayer till
Saturday—when behold! nothing had happened.
An age that attached so much importance to religion was not likely to
neglect its shrines. It is a mistake to ascribe the ruin of so many of
the mosques of Cairo to the period of the Turkish pashas. On the
contrary, the danger was that they might be “restored” out of all
knowledge. Cairo is full of “Turkish” mosques, that is Turkish of the
Othmanly style, which, if they cannot compare with the buildings of the
earlier mamlúks, are nevertheless very creditable examples of their
kind, and far superior to anything built, say, in England, during the
past century. Indeed the mosques of Seyyida Safíya (1604) and of
Mohammad Abu-dh-Dhahab (1774), are exceedingly noble buildings, and that
little gem of Turkish mosaic work, el-Burdeyny, is beautiful in its own
way. The architects of the Ottoman period abandoned the medresa style
introduced by Saladin, which, as we have seen, had lost much of its
original cruciform plan when the medresas were used as congregational
mosques under the Circassian Mamlúks; but, whilst reverting to the older
and simpler plan of the gámi‘, they modified it by substituting cupolas
of Byzantine form for the level ceilings which formerly covered the
sanctuary. In fact, the Ottoman mosque is practically a basilica. A
special feature of the mosques and restorations of the Othmanly period
is the introduction of faïence. The medresa of Aksunkur was restored by
Ibrahím Aga in 1652, and the whole east wall covered with fine blue
tiles, chiefly of the Damascus style, with a few so-called Rhodian,
probably from Constantinople. It was not often that restoration proved
so successful, and one has frequently to deplore the patching of Turkish
additions upon the old masterpieces. Ahmad pasha restored the then
dilapidated mosque of el-Muayyad in 1690; another pasha built the
Arba‘ín mosque by the Karameydan Gate in 1704; Ahmad the deputy restored
the Fátimid mosque of ez-Záfir, known as el-Fakahány, in 1735.
But the prince of restorers was ‘Abd-er-Rahmán Kiahya (Ketkhuda), who
enjoyed great influence before the time when ‘Aly Bey—himself the
restorer of the dome of the tomb-mosque of Imám Sháfi‘y and builder of
the Bulák bazar—deposing the reigning pasha made himself king of Egypt
from 1768 to 1772. ‘Abd-er-Rahmán’s father, ‘Othmán Ketkhuda, had
architectural tastes. Out of his very ill-gotten gains he built his
mosque, school, and fountain by the Ezbekíya lake, and on the day of
opening filled the great central basin and all the ewers he could
collect with sherbet for the congregation. He also built the school for
the blind at the Azhar, and other benefactions. His son, however, far
surpassed him. Every tourist knows his little _sebíl_—elegant like its
founder, who was dainty in person and dress, and very fair—at the end of
Beyn-el-Kasreyn, with its tiles, and open arched school above; but this
was the least of his works. He built a mosque outside the Bab-el-Futúh,
and another by the Bab-el-Ghureyyib, with a cistern, fountain, and
school; a great reservoir, with fountain and school, near the Ezbekíya
cemetery, for the sakkas or water-carriers; rebuilt the chapels of
Seyyida Zeyneb and Seyyida Sekína, and erected others near the Karáfa
Gate, in the Musky, in the Hoseyníya quarter, and in the ‘Abdín street,
etc. Of his restorations the best known is that of the Azhar, which owes
its present aspect largely to ‘Abd-er-Rahmán’s work. He put in fifty
marble columns supporting groins of faced stone covered with costly
woods; erected a new _mihráb_ and pulpit, built the two archways, one
with a school for orphans above it, the other with a minaret; set up a
tomb in the court, added libraries, reading-rooms, kitchens, and other
apartments for the benefit of students from Upper Egypt; enlarged the
Taybarsíya and Akbughawíya medresas attached to the Azhar, and built the
splendid portal between them, opposite the wekála of Káit-Bey; furnished
_riwáks_ (or partitions) for students from Mekka and from the Sudán; and
settled rents in trust for the maintenance of these benefactions,
besides giving every day in Ramadán to the Azhar kitchen a large
quantity of rice, butter, oil, and meal for the evening refreshment of
the students after the day’s fast. ‘Abd-er-Rahmán also restored the
mosque of the Imám Sháfi‘y, and paved the corridor with variegated
marbles; repaired the tomb of Seyyida Nefísa and the Maristán of Kalaún
(then a madhouse), but after pulling down the dome he neglected to
rebuild it, and merely boarded it over, and so it remains to this day.
He took great pains to trace the bequests left by the founder and his
successors to the hospital, and succeeded in recovering the title-deeds
and restoring the revenues. By whatever means he acquired his wealth,
and it was said the means were not above suspicion, there was no end to
this man’s charitable acts. At winter time he distributed woollen
clothes to crowds of the blind, who always abound at Cairo, and also to
the muezzins to protect them from cold when chanting the nightly calls
to prayer. The poor clamoured about his door in the evenings of Ramadán,
waiting for the plates of food which were never refused, and after the
meal they went away happy with two loaves and two paras ready for next
day’s breakfast. Altogether, ‘Abd-er-Rahmán Kiahya built or rebuilt
eighteen mosques, besides chapels, fountains, schools, bridges, and
every sort of edifice. He had an architectural passion, and fortunately
excellent taste in its gratification, and the people well named him “the
great benefactor.” He died at Cairo in 1776 at a great age, after twelve
years’ exile in Arabia; for all his charity could not protect him from
the suspicions of ‘Aly Bey. All the ‘ulema, professors, students, and
poor of his numerous benefactions, escorted his splendid funeral to the
Azhar, where he lies in the tomb which he had built near the south gate.
The last great mosque built during the period of the pashalik was that
of Mohammad Bey, known as Abu-dh-Dhahab, or “father of gold,” from his
munificent way of scattering gold coins among the crowd. He was the
favourite and trusted mamlúk of the great ‘Aly Bey, and he rewarded his
patron by manœuvring his downfall and exile, and finally accomplishing
his death. He was a brilliant soldier, fought successful campaigns in
Arabia and Syria for his master, and achieved extraordinary popularity
by his delightful manners and open hand. Egypt had peace whilst he held
the reins of power, and the Sublime Porte, whilst appointing pashas as
before, wisely left the real authority in the hands of the capable and
popular emír. In 1774 Mohammad Bey founded his handsome _medresa_
opposite the Azhar, and there he lies in his tomb. It was built on the
plan of an earlier mosque at Bulák (the Senaníya), and was “a marvel of
architecture and richness: gilded ceilings, marble porticoes, and
stupendous dome, with bronze dormers admirably worked,” etc. There were
porticoes for the Hanafis, Málikis, and Sháfi‘is, and celebrated doctors
came to profess the law there, and, contrary to the usual custom,
received salaries, some as much as 150 paras a day (you could sometimes
buy a pound of meat for 2 paras), and none less than 10 paras a day and
an annual gift of 50 bushels of corn. On the day of opening the great
man clothed the divines with cloaks of sables or white fur, according to
their rank—a handsome form of university hood.
Mohammad Bey’s is the last of the great mosques of Cairo, with the
exception of Mohammad Aly’s sumptuous and very effective mosque in the
Citadel, where it forms a conspicuous feature in the view from every
side. This, however, is too obviously a foreign importation, a child of
Stambúl, to harmonize with the true Cairo style, and, though it is
perhaps a narrow prejudice, we confess we can never quite reconcile
ourselves to Ottoman architecture in the old mamlúk city.
Enough has been said to show that it was not during the rule of pashas
and beys that the mosques of Cairo suffered damage or demolition. They
were well cared for. Their evil day came when Mohammad ‘Aly, a second
but more successful ‘Aly Bey, made himself master of Egypt and
inaugurated a new régime, compared with which the rule of the sternest
of the mamlúks was mildness itself. It was Mohammad ‘Aly, who, in
1808-1810, laid hands on the Wakfs or religious endowments, which the
piety of many centuries had placed in trust for the maintenance of the
mosques and colleges of Egypt, and amidst the tears and curses of all
the ‘ulema of Cairo, deprived them of the right to control the sacred
monuments confided to their charge. From this act of confiscation, when
title-deeds were lost or destroyed, and trust-funds confused and
malversed, dates the most serious decay of the monuments of Cairo. The
Europeanizing movement of the nineteenth century, inevitable, and in
many ways most desirable as it was, brought with it a large destruction
of mosques and other historic buildings which impeded carriage-traffic
or stood in the way of the new streets and squares which the viceroys of
Egypt planned with little or no regard to existing antiquities. The
Shari‘ Mohammad ‘Aly was the most flagrant example of a street cutting
its way remorselessly through historic monuments, but similar vandalism
occurred in almost every part of the city, and the department which
attends to the alignment of the streets has often exercised its powers
in the narrowest spirit of county-councildom. That much worse has not
happened is wholly due to the vigilance and firmness of the “Commission
for the Preservation of the Monuments of Arab Art,” an official body in
which happily large powers are vested, and to which we owe the
maintenance of a multitude of Saracenic monuments of every class and all
periods, which, but for its timely interposition, would now have
disappeared or have been on the high road to ruin. It is impossible to
over-estimate the excellent and patient work of the Commission. The
seventeen annual reports it has issued—solid volumes, with plans and
illustrations—form a library of valuable information, and testify in
every page to the care and sense of responsibility shown by the members.
I may here be permitted to quote a report on the results and methods of
the Commission which I made at Earl Cromer’s request in 1895, and which
was published in his annual survey of the progress of Egypt presented to
Parliament in 1896.
_The Athenæum, London, December_ 12, 1895.
“MY LORD,—In accordance with your Lordship’s invitation, I have the
honour to submit a few remarks on the work of the Commission for the
Preservation of Arab Monuments, of which I made a detailed examination
in the summer of this year.
The Commission was instituted by Decree of His Highness the late Khedive
on the 18th December, 1881. Its duties were:—
1. To make an inventory of the Arab monuments of Egypt which possess
historical or artistic interest.
2. To watch over the preservation of these monuments, and report to the
Minister of Wakfs such repairs as were considered necessary for their
maintenance.
3. To prepare plans for such repairs and scrupulously superintend their
execution.
4. To see that plans of all the work executed should be preserved in the
Ministry of Wakfs, and to indicate any fragments or detached objects
which should be transferred to the Museum of Arab Art.
Political disturbance prevented much being done before the close of
1882; but when I made a general inspection of the Arab monuments of
Cairo in January to March 1883, the Commission was in working order. I
was then able to see the beginning of its labours, and am therefore in a
position to compare the state of the monuments at the time when the
Commission first took them seriously in hand with their present
condition after the Commission has been over twelve years at work.
I can state with confidence that, comparing the general state of the
mosques in 1883 and 1895, they are in a far safer and better preserved
condition now than they were twelve years ago. Several monuments that
then seemed inevitably doomed to destruction have been strengthened and
supported, and, generally speaking, weak places have been detected and
repaired, whilst a more vigilant supervision and protection against
vandalism and robbery now prevail. These happy results are especially
due to the energy and archæological or technical knowledge of the late
Rogers Bey, of Franz Pasha, and of his Excellency Yakub Artin Pasha,
whose name will always be honourably associated with the intellectual
progress of Egypt. Some of their French colleagues have also rendered
useful services from time to time, and the presence on the Commission of
successive Under-Secretaries of Public Works, and notably at the present
time of Mr [now Sir] W. E. Garstin, has proved a valuable source of
strength. The most vital appointment under the Commission is, of course,
that of the Architect, who surveys the monuments, recommends such
repairs as are necessary or desirable, and personally superintends their
execution. Since the creation of the Special Department (Bureau Spécial)
of the Commission, which was separated at the beginning of 1890 from the
Bureau Technique of the Wakfs, Mr Max Herz [Hon. F. S. A.] has been the
Architect in charge of the work of the Commission, and it is bare
justice to say that to his industry and considerable technical and
archæological attainments much of the present improved manner of
supervising and preserving the monuments is undoubtedly due. Herz Bey
joins to the technical training of an architect a familiarity with the
history of Arab art, together with a genuine enthusiasm for his work.
His “Catalogue of the Arab Museum,” published this year in French, but
shortly to be reissued in an English translation [published, 1896],
furnishes proofs of an extensive study of the periods of development of
Arab or Saracenic art, and of the literature, Arabic and European,
relating to this subject; and the complete restorations he has made of a
few of the smaller mosques are evidence of his insight into Arab
construction and decoration, of his technical skill, and of his
scrupulous fidelity to the original design. On this vexed subject of
restoration, however, I shall have something to say later; but whatever
may be thought of the principle, it is impossible to doubt that in the
appointment of Herz Bey the Commission has been exceptionally fortunate.
_Preservation._ It must never be forgotten that the prime duty of the
Commission is the preservation, not the restoration, of the monuments. A
fairly complete list of the monuments which, on historical or artistic
grounds, ought to be preserved has been drawn up by Sub-Committee 1, and
the first obligation laid upon the Commission is to watch over the
preservation of every monument in this list. So far as my observation
went, its members are clearly alive to this obligation, and have
endeavoured to fulfil it as far as their limited funds permitted. To
enumerate the long catalogue of repairs, from the stablishing of the
entire walls of a mosque to the removal of whitewash or dirt from a
carved inscription or a mosaic, would extend these notes to an undue
length. The details may be read in the excellent Annual Reports of the
Commission, which, if they are scarcely as prompt in their appearance as
they might be, leave little to be desired in point of accuracy or
completeness. Much more, however, remains to be done, and many of the
repairs already executed can only be regarded as temporary cheap make-
shifts, pending the possibility of more thorough works when finances
permit. The adequate and enduring preservation of the monuments is
essentially a question of money. The Commission and its Architect know
what ought to be done, but they cannot do it without an increased staff
and a larger budget.
Meanwhile, there are two or three points to which the attention of the
Commission should, I think, be specially and immediately directed, since
they can be dealt with even on the present insufficient annual grant.
1. In cases where a thorough repair would be too costly to be undertaken
on the present budget, there is a mode of preservation, in a literary
and artistic sense, which ought to be invariably adopted when there is
any risk of further immediate decay. The great mosque of Sultan Hasan is
an instance in point. In such a case, where many thousands of pounds
would be required for substantial preservation, the Commission cannot at
present entertain the plans which have been drawn up for so elaborate a
work. But what they can do is to prepare an exact record of the present
state of the mosque, to draw full architectural plans and elevations,
photograph every detail of ornament or inscription, reproduce mosaics
and other coloured decoration in the colours of the originals, and
generally to make it possible at any time to reproduce the entire mosque
in its true proportions and exact details of ornament.[87] To students
of the history of Arab art such a record would be invaluable, whilst it
would make the task of preservation possible even should want of funds
postpone the work till the mosque had fallen into much more lamentable
decay. To prepare such records would necessitate an increase in the
staff of the Commission, but if the memoirs were published, with
adequate historical introductions and explanations, the sale would
probably repay a large part of the expense. At the same time, these
records should not of course be regarded as a substitute for actual
preservation, or as a reason for deferring necessary repairs. They
should be used merely as a safeguard against the total or partial
obliteration of a monument by a sudden catastrophe (which might happen
any day to one of the minarets of Sultan Hasan), not as a ground for
refusing to avert the ruin.
2. Another and much simpler precaution should be taken in the case of
the numerous small mosques of Cairo which are more or less roofed in.
These have generally windows of open tracery, or grille-work, and often
a small opening in the centre over the court. The central opening should
be covered with glass to keep out the weather, and the open windows
should invariably be furnished with wire-netting outside to exclude the
birds, which do much mischief in the interiors. All covered-in mosques
require frequent inspection with this view, and every cranny which could
admit rain or birds should be carefully stopped.
3. A more expensive but absolutely necessary step is the compulsory
expropriation of the shops or booths which cling like limpets to the
façades of many of the mosques. The proprietors of these shops use the
mosques behind as dust-bins, and throw their refuse and broken crockery
through the windows. The appearance of the mosques, both inside and out,
is seriously impaired by these excrescences which narrow the street
(_e.g._, the Suk-en-Nahhasin), impede traffic, and prevent the façades
of the mosques being seen in their true proportion and effect.
In order to avoid the risk of any historical monument being overlooked
and neglected, it would be well if the Commission were to divide Cairo
into a certain number of definite quarters, and that the scheduled
monuments in each quarter should be periodically visited by the Sub-
Committee of Inspection and the architect at least once a year. The
number of monuments in the list is so large, that it might be impossible
to arrange more than one or two inspections of each in every season.
Such visits should be recorded, with notes on the condition of each
monument, in a special book.
An important question is that of the private monuments, whether mosques,
houses, _sebils_, _wekalas_, or other buildings. The Government
apparently has no power either to compel owners to maintain and preserve
the historical buildings which they inhabit or let, or to force them to
sell. The few mediæval houses still standing in Cairo are artistically
more valuable than the mosques maintained by private wakfs, for they
form almost the sole remaining examples of the domestic style of Arab
art. It is greatly to be wished that they could be brought under the
control of the Commission, and if due compensation were made for
ejectment or interference, the owners would have little ground for
complaint.
_Restoration._—The Commission has not confined its labours strictly to
preservation, it has also undertaken the complete restoration of several
monuments. There is a well-founded prejudice in artistic and
archæological circles against restoration of any and every description;
but I believe that an examination of some of the recent restorations
carried out by Herz Bey would remove these natural and generally just
apprehensions. This architect’s principle, as he explained it to me,
appears sound and reasonable. It is this. No unique monument (_e.g._,
the Mosque of Ibn-Tulun) or monument belonging to an architectural
period of which there are very few examples (_e.g._, the Fátimid
Mosques), must on any account be restored; preservation is the only
possible treatment for such cases, and nothing more must be done than is
absolutely necessary for the stability of the building, and its security
from weather and other injury. But when there are numerous mosques of
the same period, nearly resembling one another in style, and often even
in detail of ornament (_e.g._, at the period of Kait-Bey), then a few
may safely be selected for complete restoration at all points, so as to
present as nearly as possible their original appearance, as when first
opened for public worship. Herz Bey has given a few examples of his
theory of restoration in mosques of a well-represented period. They are
not equally successful, and it is evident from the latest specimens that
experience has taught him much, especially in regard to colour. But I
think the most rigid opponent of restoration would find very little to
criticize in the careful and beautiful manner in which the little mosque
of [Kády] Abu-Bekr ibn Muzhir in the Bargawan has been restored to
almost its original condition; and whatever may be said about the
tampering to which the mosque of el-Muayyad was subjected under a former
régime, there is no doubt that the inscriptional frieze and the painted
ceiling have been restored as perfectly and as scrupulously as skill and
knowledge could attain. I can assert from personal observation that
nothing can exceed the care and precautions which are observed by the
architect of the Commission in order to make sure that he has really
discovered the original design and colouring beneath centuries of dirt
and whitewash, or the pains he takes to reproduce them faithfully. And I
may here observe that the staff of the Commission includes workers in
metal and wood, who are able to copy the designs so accurately, that it
is almost impossible to distinguish them from the originals. (They are
not yet successful in stained glass, however.) This merit has the
obvious drawback that, unless great care is taken, the details of the
monuments (_e.g._, the bronze bosses and plaques on doors, or the wood
and ivory carvings and inlay work of doors and _minbars_) may be
falsified.
In recent restorations of Arabic inscriptions the inscription itself is
made to tell the date of its restoration; but many small details of
ornament are not distinguished at all from the original work whose gaps
they supply. This defect calls for immediate correction before the
distinction is forgotten by the restorers themselves. Every _plaque_ of
metal or panel of wood or mosaic should bear an unmistakable
distinguishing mark, such as the date of restoration in Arabic cyphers;
and detailed plans of all restored monuments should be preserved in the
archives of the Commission, in which the new portions should be clearly
distinguished by colour or shading. If this rule is carefully observed I
confess I can see nothing but advantage in the complete restoration of a
_limited_ number of mosques _under the restrictions_ already mentioned.
When the work is executed with the skill and honesty which one observes
in the case of the Mosque of Abu-Bekr ibn Muzhir, there is no
falsification but rather preservation in the most complete and
satisfactory sense. The beauty of these restored mosques seems to appeal
to the eyes of the worshippers, and there is no doubt that the Mosque of
el-Muayyad has been far more frequented for prayer since its _liwan_ was
restored to something of its original beauty and richness of gold and
colour. This is a consideration to which the Ministry of Wakfs can
hardly fail to attach considerable importance. At the same time there is
possibly some risk of the vital work of preservation being sometimes
neglected in order that restorations, which are naturally more
interesting and effective to both the architect and the public, should
be carried out.
At present there are five mosques in course of restoration,[88] viz.,
those of Zeyn-ed-din Yahya, near the Musky; Gami‘-el-Benat; of
Asunbugha, in the Darb-es-Sa‘ada, and of Kagmas el-Ishaky; besides el-
Muayyad and Abu-Bekr ibn Muzhir, which may be regarded as finished. Two
of these mosques, however, are private wakfs, and are being paid for by
private persons. Still, in my opinion, enough restoration has been
undertaken for the present, and the chief attention of the Commission
should be directed for the next two or three years to a fresh and
complete examination of all the monuments on their list with a view to
their thorough preservation. At all events the selection of a new mosque
for complete restoration should be a subject of anxious thought, and
should not be lightly undertaken. Restoration, it must be remembered, is
costly, and cannot judiciously be embarked upon so long as the funds of
the Commission are scarcely sufficient for preservation alone. . . .
Such, my Lord, are the conclusions which suggested themselves to me
after my inspection of the results of the Commission’s labours. I have
confined my remarks to Cairo, because I had no opportunity this year to
examine the work that has been done in other towns of Egypt. In Cairo,
as I have endeavoured to show, the Commission has done excellent work,
and has accomplished a great deal in face of inadequate funds and
frequent obstruction and opposition. The few suggestions and criticisms
I have ventured to make are trifles in comparison with the quantity and
generally high quality of the work of preservation and restoration
carried out under the authority of the Commission. In my opinion the
Wakfs and the Public Works together should raise the annual budget of
the Commission to £10,000, and then leave it to manage its own affairs,
as it is fully competent to do. Were it possible to create a Ministry of
Fine Arts, which should include the Archæological Directorate as well as
the Commission, the Giza as well as the Arab Museum, this would probably
be the most satisfactory course. But the consideration of so thorough a
reconstruction is beyond the scope of the Report which your Lordship has
asked me to submit.”
To these remarks I have nothing to add. All subsequent observation has
confirmed the belief that the Commission has done and is still doing a
noble work for the monuments of Cairo. The passages omitted in the
preceding extracts related to the financial status of the Commission,
and the result of these recommendations is thus stated in Lord Cromer’s
covering report, which also strongly supported the various suggestions
offered for the better protection of the monuments, and added some
excellent provisions for the inclusion of the Coptic churches in the
field of operation of the Commission. Lord Cromer wrote:—
“I have for long been well aware that the grants heretofore obtained
from the Wakf Administration were inadequate, and that, if greater
activity was to be displayed in this branch of the Administration,
additional expenditure would have to be incurred. Indeed, one of the
main objects I had in view in consulting Mr Stanley Lane-Poole was to
obtain suggestions from him as to the best method of spending more
money, supposing it to be available.
“On receipt of Mr Stanley Lane-Poole’s Report, I placed myself in
communication with the authorities of the Financial and Public Works
Department with the result that a proposal was made to the Commissioners
of the Public Debt that they should grant a sum of £20,000 from the
Reserve Fund at their disposal to be spent under the direction of the
Preservation Committee during the years 1896 and 1897. I am glad to say
that this proposal was received by the Commissioners in a very friendly
spirit. The money has been granted, and the details of the expenditure
now alone remain to be settled. . . .
“I should add that, in addition to the £20,000, which is to be spent
exclusively on works of different sorts, the Egyptian Government has
consented to give a permanent grant of £1000 a-year from the Treasury in
order to provide for the additional staff which will without doubt be
required.”
The effects of this munificent addition to the funds placed at the
disposal of the Commission have been far-reaching. The list of monuments
that have benefited by the timely succour is too long to quote, but the
repairs effected in the great mosque of el-Maridány at a cost of £4000
must be specially mentioned: it was a work greatly needed, and the money
has been well spent. Every visitor to Cairo is struck by the difference
in the condition of the mosques since the Commission took them under its
charge. Many which seemed doomed are now safe; others have their lives
at least prolonged; and no fragment of Arab art, no vestige of the city
wall, no piece of carving or inscription, is beneath the watchful care
of the Commission. When a monument cannot be preserved, such fragments
of ornament or inscriptions as remain are carefully gathered and
transported to the Arab Museum, which itself is evidence of the good
work that has been done in the past twenty years. These years have
indeed been fruitful in serious labour to repair the injury which
natural decay, and unnatural confiscation, neglect, and vandalism have
worked in the past upon the relics of mediæval Cairo.
[Illustration: A MUSLIM GRAVEYARD]
RULERS AND MONUMENTS OF CAIRO[89]
* * * * *
1. ARAB PERIOD
A.D. A.H. A.H.
640-868 20-254 Ninety-eight governors †Mosque of ‘Amr 21
under caliphs of
Damascus and Baghdād
Town of the Tent 21
(el-Fusṭāṭ)
First Nilometer at 98
er-Rōḍa
Faubourg el-‘Askar 133
*Second Nilometer 247
at er-Rōḍa
2. TURKISH PERIOD
HOUSE OF ṬŪLŪN
868 254 Aḥmad ibn Ṭūlūn Faubourg el-Ḳaṭāi‘ 256
Palaces of 256 ff.
el-Ḳaṭāi‘
Māristān 259
*Mosque of Ibn-Ṭūlūn 263-5
883 270 Khumāraweyh b. Aḥmad Palaces of 270 ff.
el-Ḳaṭāi‘
895 282 Geysh b. Khumāraweyh
896 283 Hārūn b. Khumāraweyh
904 292 Sheybān b. Aḥmad b. Ṭūlūn
CALIPHS’ GOVERNORS
905-934 292-323 Thirteen governors
HOUSE OF EL-IKHSHĪD
934 323 Moḥammad el-Ikhshīd Palace in Kāfūr’s
Garden and at Rōḍa
946 334 Abū-l-Ḳāsim Ūngūr b. Māristān at Fusṭāṭ 346
el-Ikhshīd
960 349 Abū-l-Ḥasan ‘Aly b. Mosque of el-Gīza 350
el-Ikhshīd
966 355 Abū-l-Misk Kāfūr
968 358 Abū-l-Fawāris Aḥmad b.
‘Aly
3. FĀṬIMID PERIOD
969 358 el-Mo‘izz Foundation of 358
el-Ḳāhira
Great East Palace, 358
etc.
*Mosque el-Azhar 359
975 365 el-‘Azīz West Palace, etc.
*Mosque of el-Ḥākim 380-403
996 386 el-Ḥākim Mosque of Rāshida 393-5
„ el-Maḳs
1021 411 eẓ-Ẓāhir
1036 427 el-Mustanṣir *Mosque el-Guyūshy 478
*Bāb-en-Naṣr, 480-484
*Bāb-el-Futūḥ,
*Second wall,
*Bāb-Zuweyla
Mosque of Nilometer 485
1094 487 el-Musta‘ly
1101 495 el-Āmir *Mosque el-Aḳmar 519
Several mesgids
(Yānis, Kāfūry,
Bāb-el-Khawkha)
*Mihrābs of Azhar
and Seyyida Ruḳeyya
1131 524 el-Ḥāfiẓ
1149 544 eẓ-Ẓāfir †Mosque el-Afkhar 543
1154 549 el-Fāiz
1160 555 el-‘Āḍid *Mosque of eṣ-Ṣālih 555
Ṭalāi‘
4. HOUSE OF SALADIN
1169 565 en-Nāṣir Ṣalāḥ-ed-dīn Mosque of 566
(Saladin) ibn Ayyūb Negm-ed-dīn Ayyūb
College Nāṣirīya 566
„ Ḳamḥiya 566
„ Ḳuṭbīya 570
„ Ibn-el-Arsūfy 570
„ Suyūfīya 572
Citadel and 3rd 572
Wall begun
Māristān 575
College el-Fāḍilīya 580
1193 589 el-‘Azīz, son of Saladin Mosque of c. 591
Ibn-el-Benā
College Ushkushīya 592
1198 595 el-Manṣūr b. el-‘Azīz „ Ghaznawīya
1200 596 el-‘Adil Seyf-ed-dīn „ ‘Ādilīya
„ Sherīfīya 612
1218 615 el-Kāmil b. el-‘Ādil Restor. of M. of 607
Shāfi‘y
*College Kāmilīya 622
„ Fakhrīya 622
Zāwiya Ḳaṣry c. 633
M. Ibn-esh-Sheykhy c. 633
1238 635 el-‘Ādil II. b. el-Kāmil College Ṣayramīya c. 636
„ Fāizīya 636
1240 637 eṣ-Ṣāliḥ Ayyūb b. „ *Ṣāliḥīya 639
el-Kāmil
Mosque, etc., of
er-Rōḍa
1249 647 el-Mu‘aẓẓam Tūrān-Shāh Zāwiya Khaddām 647
b. eṣ-Ṣāliḥ
5. TURKISH MAMLŪKS
1250 648 Queen Sheger-ed-durr *Tomb of eṣ-Ṣāliḥ 648
1250 648 el-Mo‘izz Aybek College Ḳuṭbīya 650
„ Ṣāḥibīya 654
1257 655 el-Manṣūr ‘Aly b. Aybek
1259 657 el-Muẓaffar Ḳuṭuz
1260 658 eẓ-Ẓāhir Beybars *College Ẓāhirīya 660
Meshhed el-Ḥoseyny 662
College Megdīya 663
Mosque el-Afram 663
*Mosque eẓ-Ẓāhir 665
College
Muhedhdhibīya
„ Fārikānīya 676
1277 676 es-Sa‘īd Baraka b.
Beybars
1279 678 el-‘Ādil Selāmish b.
Beybars
1279 679 el-Manṣūr Ḳalā’ūn *College Manṣūrīya 684
and Māristān Ḳalā’ūn
Zāwiya el-Gemīzy 682
„ el-Ga‘bary 687
„ el-Halāwy 683
Convent 688
el-Bunduḳdārīya
1290 689 el-Ashraf Khalīl b. *Gate from ‘Akka
Ḳalā’ūn
1293 693 en-Nāṣir Moḥammad b.
Ḳalā’ūn
1294 694 el-‘Ādil Ketbughā
1296 696 el-Manṣūr Lāgīn Restor. M. of 696
Ibn-Ṭūlūn
College Ṭafagīya c. 698
„ Mangūtimurīya 698
1298 698 en-Nāṣir, second reign „ *Nāṣirīya 699-703
„ Karāsunḳurīya 700
„ Gemālīya 703
Restor. of Ḥākim, 703-4
Azhar, Ṭalāi‘
Mosque of Ṭaybars 707
1308 708 el-Muẓaffar Beybars *Convent of Beybars 706-9
_Gāshnekīr_
1309 709 en-Nāṣir, third reign *College Ṭaybarsīya 709
Zāwiya of el-Ḥimṣy 709
Mosque of el-Gāky 713
*Citadel palace, 713
aqueduct
College Sa‘īdīya 715
Convent of Arslān c. 717
*Mosque of Citadel 718
*Mosque of emīr 719
Ḥoseyn
*College Ālmelikīya 719
*College Gāwalīya 723
*Tomb of Ordūtegīn 724
*College 725
Mihmandāriya
„ Buktumurīya 726
Mosque of 729
el-Khazāny
„ *of Almās 730
„ el-Barḳīya 730
*Mosque of Ḳūṣūn 730
„ of Sārūgā c. 730
*College Aḳbughawīya 734
*Tomb of Tāshtimur 734
*Palace of Beshtāk c. 735
*Convent of Ḳūṣūn 736
„ at Siryāḳūs 736
†Mosque of Beshtāk 736
„ Aydemir 737
„ et-Turkmāny 738
„ *el-Māridāny 740
1341 741 el-Manṣūr Abū-Bekr} „ *Sitta Miska 740
}
} „ Ibn-Ghāzy 741
}
1341 742 el-Ashraf Kuguk }
}
1342 742 en-Nāṣir Aḥmad }sons
} of
1342 743 eṣ-Ṣāliḥ Ismā‘īl }en- Mosque of 745
}Nāṣir eṭ-Ṭawāshy
}
1345 746 el-Ḳāmil Sha‘bān } „ Ibn-eṭ-Ṭabbākh 746
}
1346 747 el-Muẓaffar Ḥāggy } „ *Kuguk 747
}
1347 748 en-Nāṣir Ḥasan } „ †Āḳsunḳur 747
„ †el-Ismā‘īly 748
„ *Ḳutlubugha 748
„ el-Asyūṭy c. 749
*Convent of Umm-Anūk c. 749
„ Algībughā c. 750
*Mosque of Mangak 750
„ *Sheykhū 750
College of 750
el-Kharrūba
*Cistern of Lāgīn 750
College Ḳaysarānīya 751
„ Ṣaghīra 751
1351 752 eṣ-Ṣāliḥ Ṣāliḥ b. Nāṣir
1354 755 Ḥasan, second reign *Convent of Sheykhū 756
College Fārisīya 756
„ 756
*Ṣarghitmishīya
„ *Sulṭān Ḥasan 757 ff.
„ Bedīrīya 758
„ *Ḥigāzīya 761
„ Beshīrīya 761
„ Sābiḳīya 763
1361 762 el-Manṣūr } „ Sābiḳīya 763
Moḥammad } grand-sons
} of
1363 764 el-Ashraf } en-Nāṣir *Tomb of Ṭulbīya 765
Sha‘bān }
*Mosque of Sha‘bān 771
*College Bubekrīya 772
(Asunbughā)
*College of Gāy 775
el-Yūsufy
„ Baḳrīya c. 775
1376 778 el-Manṣūr ‘Aly b. Sha‘bān „ Ibn-‘Irām 782
1381 783 eṣ-Ṣāliḥ Ḥāggy b. Tomb of Umm-Ṣāliḥ 783
Sha‘bān (dep. 1382,
restored 1389-90)
6. CIRCASSIAN MAMLŪKS
1382 784 eẓ-Ẓāhir Barḳūḳ *Tomb of Anas 783
[interrupted 791-2 by *College of Aytmish 785
Ḥāggy]
*College of Barḳūḳ 788
*Mosque of 790
Zeyn-ed-dīn
*College of Īnāl 795
_Ustāddār_
„ Maḥmūdīya 797
„ *Muḳbil 797
Zemāmīya
„ Ibn-Ghurāb 798
1399 801 en-Nāṣir Farag b. Barḳūḳ M. of 803
Ibn-‘Abd-eẓ-Ẓāhir
*College of Sūdūn 804
„ Mahally c. 806
1405 808 el-Manṣūr ‘Abd-el-‘Azīz *Convent and Tomb 803-13
b. Barḳūḳ of Barḳūḳ and
Farag, and College
of Farag
1405 809 Farag, second reign *College of 811
Gemāl-ed-dīn
Mosque of Hōsh 812
(Citadel)
1412 815 el-Musta‘īn (caliph) „ 814
Birket-er-Raṭly
1412 815 el-Mu’ayyad Sheykh M. of eḍ-Ḍiwa 815
(Citadel)
Mosque of el-Bāsiṭy 817
„ el-Ḥanafy 817
„ ez-Zāhid 818
*Māristān of 818
el-Mu’ayyad
*Mosque of 819-23
el-Mu’ayyad
*Coll. of 821
‘Abd-el-Ghany
Mosque of el-Fakhry 821
*Coll. of Ḳāḍy 823
‘Abd-el-Bāsiṭ
1421 824 el-Muẓaffar Aḥmad b.
Sheykh
1421 824 eẓ-Ẓāhir Ṭaṭar
1421 824 eṣ-Ṣāliḥ Moḥammad b.
Ṭaṭar
1422 825 el-Ashraf Bars-Bey *College of Bars-Bey 827
*Mosque of Gāny-Bek 830
*College of Feyrūz 830
*Conv. and tomb of 835
Bars-Bey
1438 842 el-‘Azīz Yūsuf b.
Bars-Bey
1438 842 eẓ-Ẓāhir Gaḳmaḳ *College of 844
Taghry-Berdy
*Mosque of Ḳāny-Bey 845
1453 857 el-Manṣūr ‘Othmān b. *M. and tomb Ḳāḍy 848-50
Gaḳmaḳ Yaḥyā
*Mosque of Gaḳmaḳ 853
1453 857 el-Ashraf Īnāl *Coll., Conv., tomb 855-60
of Īnāl
1461 865 el-Mu’ayyad Aḥmad b. Īnāl
1461 865 eẓ-Ẓāhir Khūshḳadam *Tomb of Gāny-Bek 869
*Mosque of 870
Nūr-ed-dīn
*Mosque of Sūdūn c. 870
*College of Ḳānim c. 870
1467 872 eẓ-Ẓāhir Yel-Bey
1467 872 eẓ-Ẓāhir Timurbughā
1468 873 el-Ashraf Ḳā’it-Bey *Mosque of Timrāz 876
*M. of Ezbek b. 880
Tutush
*Palace of Yeshbek 880
*Ḳā’it-Bey’s Coll. 879
and tomb
„ *Coll. in town 880
„ *Wekāla by 882
Azhar
„ *Sebīl 884
„ Wekāla, B. 885
en-Naṣr
„ *Wek., c. 885
Surūgīya
„ *Faḍawīya c. 886
cupola
„ *Palace and 890
mekān
„ *Restor. of 890
S. gates
„ *Coll. at 896
er-Rōḍa
*Mosque of Gānim 883
*Coll. of Abū-Bekr 885
b. Muzhir
*Mosque of Ḳagmās 886
*Coll. of Ezbek 900
el-Yūsufy
1496 901 en-Nāṣir Moḥammad b. *Palace of Mamāy 901
Ḳā’it-Bey (Beyt-el-Ḳāḍy)
1498 904 eẓ-Ẓāhir Ḳānṣūh *Tomb of Ḳānṣūh 904
1500 905 el-Ashraf Gānbalāt
1501 906 el-‘Ādil Ṭūmān-Bey
1501 906 el-Ashraf Ḳānṣūh el-Ghūry *Tomb el-‘Ādil 906
Ṭūmān-Bey
*Mosque of Kheyr-Bek 908
*Coll. Ḳāny-Bek 908
emīr akhōr
*Coll. of el-Ghūry 909
†Tomb-mosque of 909
el-Ghūry
*Tomb of Sūdūn c. 910
*College of 911
Ḳāny-Bek Ḳarā
Restoration of
aqueduct to
Citadel 911
1516 922 el-Ashraf Ṭumān-Bey
1517 922 ‘OTHMĀNLY CONQUEST OF EGYPT
[Illustration: CAIRO.]
TABLE FOR CONVERTING HIJRA YEARS INTO ANNI DOMINI.