passing near our present dwelling, the old woman leading her blind
husband by the hand, and carrying his pipe, that it might be ready for
him as soon as the law should allow him to enjoy it. Bent as they were
by age and infirmity, it was sad to see that they were evidently among
the fasters, and it was a sight to excite compassion and respect; for as
so many of the aged sink into their last earthly home, when the month of
abstinence has passed, the fear that they too might prove martyrs to the
requirements of their religion was far from groundless, and naturally
present to the mind of the observer.
The great among the Muslims in general turn night into day during
Ramadán; therefore they are seldom seen in the streets. Most of them
sleep from daybreak until the afternoon; while others break their fast
in private. I do not think that this is done by the lower orders; and no
one can hear the cry of joy which rings and echoes through the city at
sunset, when, in token that the fasting is over, for at least some
hours, a cannon is discharged from the citadel, without rejoicing with
the people, that another day of Ramadán has passed. But no sound is so
imposing as the night-call to prayer from the numerous menarets. I
mentioned to you our impressions on hearing it first at Alexandria; but
here, in Cairo, it is infinitely more striking. On some occasions, when
the wind is favourable, we can hear perhaps a hundred voices, in solemn,
and indeed harmonious, concert. Here the Mueddins, raised between earth
and heaven, call on their fellow-creatures to worship Heaven’s God; and
oh! as their voices are borne on the night-wind, let the silent prayer
of every Christian who hears them ascend to a throne of grace for mercy
on their behalf. They are more especially objects of pity, because they
have the light of the Gospel in their land; but how is that light
obscured! prejudice, and (shall I write it?) the conduct of many
Europeans dwelling among them, and calling themselves Christians, have
blinded their eyes, and because of the sins of others, the true
Christian spends his strength in vain. Far be it from me to cast a
sweeping censure, but our respectable and respected friends here will
join me as I raise my voice against those nominal Christians, who, by
their profligacy, prove ever “rocks a-head” to the already prejudiced
Muslim. This always important city may now be ranked among “men’s
thoroughfares” in a wide sense, and we must only hope that the day may
come when the phrase, “these are Christians,” will no longer convey
reproach.
The Mohammedan months are lunar, and consequently retrograde; and when
Ramadán occurs in the summer, the obligation to abstain from water
during the long sultry days is fearful in its consequences. At sunset,
the fasting Muslim takes his breakfast; and this meal generally
commences with light refreshments, such as sweet cakes, raisins, &c.;
for, from long abstinence, many persons find themselves in so weak a
state, that they cannot venture to eat immediately a full meal. Many
break their fast with merely a glass of sherbet, or a cup of coffee.
This refreshment is succeeded by a substantial meal, equal to their
usual dinner. They often retire to obtain a short sleep. Usually, two
hours after sunset, criers greet all the persons in their respective
districts, beating a small drum at the doors, and saying something
complimentary to the inmates of each house. Again, the morning call to
prayer is chanted much earlier than usual, perhaps an hour and a half
before daybreak, to remind all to take their second meal; and the crier
also goes another round, making a loud noise, in which he perseveres
until he is answered, at each house where his attention is required.
Thus, you see, no small pains are taken to remind the faster to avail
himself of his opportunities; and it is singular to hear the variety of
noises which disturb the nights of this most unpleasant month. At
daybreak, each morning, the last signal is made from the citadel, by the
firing of a cannon, for the removal of all food; and on some occasions,
this report seems to shake the city to the very foundations. The open
lattice windows oblige us to hear all the noises I have described. Our
windows are furnished with glazed frames, in addition to the carved
wooden lattice-work, but the former are only closed in the winter, for
those who desire to enjoy any sleep during the hot season must keep all
windows (and if possible doors also) open. Judging by my own surprise at
the degree of heat we have endured since our arrival, I imagine you have
no adequate idea of it. On my opening, a few days since, a card-box full
of sealing-wax, I found the whole converted into an oblong mass, fitting
the lower part of the box.
As to the vermin of Egypt, I really think that the _flies_ occasion the
greatest annoyance, so abundant are they, and so distressing. Nets
placed at the doors and windows exclude them; but there are days, indeed
weeks and months, in Egypt, when the temperature is so oppressive, that
it is not possible to allow the air to be impeded, even by a net.
Musquitoes, too, are very troublesome in the mornings and evenings, and
much reduce the comfort of early rising. This is a serious inconvenience
here, for we find the most agreeable hours are in the early mornings and
in the cool evenings, after sunset. The old houses abound with bugs, but
in this respect we have been particularly fortunate; for we have not
been annoyed by these very disgusting insects. Fleas are very
troublesome during their season, I am told, but with us their season has
not yet begun; and I think and hope cleanliness in our houses will, in a
great degree, prevent their attentions. “There are insects” (as I once
heard a lecturer on natural history express himself) “which must be
nameless in all polite society;” therefore, my dear friend, they must be
nameless here, but of these we have seen five. These arrived at five
different times in parcels of _new_ linen from a bazaar, and their
arrival has occasioned the closest scrutiny when any thing new is
brought to us.
Rats, also, are extremely annoying, and nothing escapes their
depredations, unless secured in wire safes, or hung up at a sufficient
distance from the walls. These animals run about our bedrooms during the
nights; and I sometimes think they come in at the open windows. They are
generally harmless, but sufficiently tiresome. Lizards, too, are very
common, but perfectly innocuous, and occupy themselves entirely on the
ceilings and windows in chasing flies, on which they seem to subsist. I
told you I feared much from the antiquated cobwebs that spiders would be
numerous. They are so, truly, and so very large that I will not risk
giving my opinion of their size; it is so far beyond any European
specimen I have seen. But the gravest annoyances are scorpions, and of
these we have found three, one of which was exactly three inches in
length. I was much distressed on finding these, but comforted on hearing
that if the wound they inflict be immediately scarified, and an
application of sal ammoniac be made, it does not prove fatal. These
applications, however, though absolutely necessary, are very painful;
and I trust we may be spared the necessity of resorting to such means.
Fearing for my children, for their sakes I am a coward, and I feel it is
ever necessary to bear in mind that we cannot wander where we can be
outcasts from the care of Heaven, or strangers to the protecting
Providence of God.
I have suffered this letter to remain unfinished for a whole week,
expecting daily that I might be able to tell you of the end of this
year’s inundation. This I am now able to do; but must first mention,
that we have experienced a most extraordinary storm of wind, accompanied
by such clouds of dust, that we were obliged to close our eyes and wait
patiently until its fury had in some measure passed away. When it abated
we looked out upon the city, and could only see the tops of its menarets
above the sea of dust, and its lofty palm-trees bending before the
blast. I have _heard_ such a hurricane, during the night, once since our
arrival in Cairo, and fearful indeed it was, but I have never seen its
effects until now. This was not one of the winds to which the Easterns
give a name, such as the Zóba’ah, the Khamáseen winds, or the Samoom;
but a strong sweeping wind from the northeast. In looking down upon the
many ruins of Cairo, I feel astonished by the fact of their withstanding
such a hurricane. A storm like this is generally preceded and followed
by a perfect calm.
This day (the 25th of October) is the first of the decrease of the Nile.
It is usually at its greatest height, as I have already mentioned, at
the end of September. It is not extraordinary that it should be a high
inundation; that is well accounted for this year, as it has been in the
two preceding years, by the construction of many new embankments, but it
is the lateness of the inundation which is so exceedingly unusual. It
rose considerably on the 23d instant, and on the 24th slightly; and I
find no one with whom we are acquainted here among the residents who
remembers such an occurrence.
“A very grievous murrain,” forcibly reminding us of that which visited
this same country in the days of Moses, has prevailed during the last
three months, and the already distressed peasants feel the calamity
severely, or rather (I should say) the few who possess cattle. Among the
rich men of the country, the loss has been enormous. During our voyage
up the Nile, we observed several dead cows and buffaloes lying in the
river, as I mentioned in a former letter; and some friends who followed
us two months after, saw many on the banks; indeed, up to this time,
great numbers of cattle are dying in every part of the country, and the
prevailing excitement leads me to recur to the subject.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
LETTER VIII.
November 26th.
MY DEAR FRIEND,
I have just returned from witnessing the curious procession of the
Mahmal, preparatory to the departure of the great caravan of pilgrims to
Mekkah. We were early on the way, and after riding for nearly an hour we
found ourselves in the main street of the city, opposite to the Khán
el-Khaleelee, the chief Turkish bazaar of Cairo. I felt more than ever
convinced that donkeys were the only safe means of conveyance in the
streets of this city. A lady never rides but on a donkey, with a small
carpet laid over the saddle. For gentlemen, horses are now more used
than donkeys; but their riders encounter much inconvenience. In many
cases, this morning, our donkeys threaded their way among loaded camels,
where horses were turned back; and my apprehensions lest the large bales
of goods should really sweep my boys from their saddles, were scarcely
removed by the extreme care of their attendants, who always kept one arm
round each of my children, in passing through the dangerous
thoroughfares. I assure you it is an exceedingly awkward thing to ride
through the streets of Cairo at any time, but especially so during a
season of festivity.
We had engaged for the day a room on a first-floor, commanding a good
view of the street, and we had not been long seated before an
extraordinary uproar commenced. This arose from crowds of boys, provided
with sticks, and absolutely privileged (as is usual on the days of this
procession) to beat all Christians and Jews. A poor Frank gentleman was
attacked under the window we were occupying, and protected with
difficulty by some Arabs, who interposed with much kindness. It was
especially matter of congratulation to-day, that our party were supposed
to be Easterns, and that we had so learnt to _carry_ the dress that we
were not suspected. On one occasion, not long since, my donkey stumbled,
and a Turkish gentleman, who was passing me, exclaimed, “Yá Sátir” (O!
Protector). Had he supposed I was an Englishwoman, I imagine he would
not have invoked protection for me. The prejudice against Europeans is
especially strong, as they are said to have enlightened the Pasha too
much on matters of finance; but to-day I will dismiss this subject, and
tell you of the procession, while it is fresh in my recollection.
The first persons who passed, belonging to the procession, were two men
with drawn swords, who engaged occasionally in mock combat. Next came a
grotesque person, well mounted, and wearing a high pointed cap, and an
immense beard of twisted hemp, and clothed in sheep-skins. He held a
slender stick in his right hand, and in his left a bundle of papers, on
which he pretended, with a tragi-comical expression of countenance, to
write judicial opinions. Next followed _the gun_ of the caravan, a small
brass field-piece, an hour and a half before noon, preceded by a company
of Nizám troops, and followed by another company, headed by their band;
the musical instruments being European. I cannot praise their
performance, yet it approached nearer to music than any attempt I have
heard in Egypt. It remains, however, for me to hear the professional
singers of this country; and I am told by persons of undoubted taste,
that if I do not admire the airs they sing, I shall be surprised at
their skill and the quality of their voices.
The soldiers were followed by a long procession of Darweeshes. First
came the Saadeeyeh, with numerous flags, bearing, in many cases, the
names of God, Mohammad, and the founder of their order, on a ground of
green silk. Most of these Darweeshes were beating a small kettle-drum
called báz, which is held in the left hand, and beaten with a short
thick strap. Some were beating cymbals, and all repeating religious
ejaculations, chiefly names and epithets of God. They were perpetually
bowing their heads to the right and to the left during the whole
repetition, and this motion was rendered the more apparent by many of
them wearing very high felt caps; then, the variety in their costume,
and, more than all, the gravity of their deportment, combined to rivet
our attention. These Darweeshes were followed by a body of their parent
order (the Refá-eeyeh), bearing black flags, and also beating bázes and
cymbals, and repeating the like ejaculations. Their sheykh, a
venerable-looking person, wearing a very large black turban, rode behind
them, on horseback. Then passed the Kádireeyeh Darweeshes: their
principal insignia were borne by members of their order; viz.
palm-sticks, for fishing-rods; and fishing-nets strained on hoops, and
raised on long poles, with many small fish suspended round them. They
carried white flags. Next followed the Ahmedeeyeh, and Baráhimeh
Darweeshes, bearing red and green flags; and immediately after these
came “the Mahmal.”
The Mahmal is a mere emblem of royalty, and contains nothing; but two
copies of the Kur-án, in cases of gilt silver, are fastened to the
exterior. It is an imitation of a covered litter, borne on the back of a
camel; and it accompanies the caravan yearly, forming, if I may use the
expression, the banner of the pilgrims. Many persons have understood
that it contains the Kisweh, or new covering for the temple of Mekkah;
but they are mistaken. The origin of this ceremony, as related in the
“Modern Egyptians,” was as follows:—“Sheger-ed-Durr (commonly called
Shegerel-ed-Durr), a beautiful Turkish female slave, who became the
favourite wife of the Sultán Es-Sáleh Negm-ed-Deen, and on the death of
his son (with whom terminated the dynasty of the house of Eiyoob) caused
herself to be acknowledged as Queen of Egypt, performed the pilgrimage
in a magnificent Hódag (or covered litter), borne by a camel; and for
several successive years her empty litter was sent with the caravan
merely for the sake of state. Hence, succeeding princes of Egypt sent
with each year’s caravan of pilgrims a kind of Hódag (which received the
name of Mahmal, or Mahmil) as an emblem of royalty, and the kings of
other countries followed their example.”[22] The usual covering of the
Mahmal has been black brocade; that I have seen this morning is red, and
I understand that it is shabby in comparison with those of former years:
indeed each year (my brother tells me) all that is connected with this
procession becomes less remarkable, and less money is expended on it by
the government. But to me, and to those of us who had not previously
seen it, it was extremely interesting. There were none of the great men
habited in cloth of gold, who preceded it on former occasions; neither
were the camels handsomely caparisoned.
Footnote 22:
_Modern Egyptians_, 3d ed., part ii., p. 203.
The half-naked sheykh who has for so many years followed the Mahmal,
incessantly rolling his head, for which feat he receives a gratuity from
the government, rode on a fine horse immediately after it. If he be the
same man (and I am informed he is the very same) who has year after year
committed this absurdity, it is wonderful that his head has borne such
unnatural and long-continued motion. There followed him a number of led
camels and horses, and their decorations were extremely picturesque, but
not costly. The camels were ornamented in various ways; one having small
bells, strung on either side of a saddle ornamented with coloured cloth;
others with palm-branches, ostrich feathers, and small flags fixed on
similar saddles decorated with cowries. These were succeeded by a
company of regular troops, followed by the Emeer-el-Hágg (or chief of
the pilgrims). Then passed the usual collection of the presents which
are distributed during the pilgrimage; and then, a number of drummers
mounted on camels, and beating enormous kettle-drums: after these, some
more led camels, and a numerous group bearing mesh’als, the tops of
which were covered with coloured kerchiefs. “The mesh’al is a staff with
a cylindrical frame of iron at the top filled with wood, or having two,
three, four, or five of these receptacles for fire.”[23] These were for
the purpose of lighting the caravan; as the journey is mostly performed
during the cool hours of night. Another company of officers and soldiers
followed these; and then the litter and baggage of the Emeer-el-Hágg.
His first supply of water passed next, borne by a number of camels, each
laden with four skins; and these were succeeded by led camels closing
the procession.
Had we gone merely with the view of seeing the spectators, we should
have been amply rewarded. The shops and their benches were crowded with
people of many countries; and the variety in their costume and manners
formed an amusing study. The windows of the first and second floors were
perfectly full of women, children, and slaves; and here and there a
richly-embroidered dress was seen through the lattice.
On one point all denominations of people seemed agreed; viz. in
purchasing something for their children from almost all the venders of
sweets, and many passed constantly on this occasion; therefore their
poor children kept up a continual system of cramming during the whole
procession; and here my eyes were opened to a new manner of accounting
for the generally wretched appearance of the children of this country.
Their parents put any thing and every thing that is eatable into their
mouths, without the slightest regard to its being wholesome or
otherwise. How then can they be strong or healthy?
Footnote 23:
_Modern Egyptians_, 3d ed., part i., p. 254.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
LETTER IX.
November, 1842.
MY DEAR FRIEND,
I have already attempted to describe to you my impressions on my first
entry into Cairo. My ideas of it, for a considerable time, were very
confused; it seemed to me, for the most part, a labyrinth of ruined and
half-ruined houses, of the most singular construction; and in appearance
so old, that I was surprised at being informed that, only a few years
ago, it presented a far less unhappy aspect.
Cairo is dignified with the name of Umm-ed-Dunya (the Mother of the
World) and other sounding appellations. Though it has much declined
since the discovery of the passage to India by the Cape of Good Hope,
and more especially of late years, it is still one of the most
considerable cities in the East. It is altogether an Arabian city; and
the very finest specimens of Arabian architecture are found within its
walls. The private houses are in general moderately large; the lower
part of stone, and the superstructure of brick; but some are little
better than huts.
The streets are unpaved, and very narrow, generally from five to ten
feet wide. Some are even less than _four_ feet in width; but there are
others as much as forty or fifty feet wide, though not for any great
length. I must describe the streets under their different appellations.
A shárë’, or great thoroughfare-street, is generally somewhat irregular
both in its direction and width. In most parts the width is scarcely
more than sufficient for two loaded camels to proceed at a time; and
hence much inconvenience is often occasioned to the passenger, though
carriages are very rarely encountered. All burdens are borne by camels,
if too heavy for asses; and vast numbers of the former, as well as many
of the latter, are employed in supplying the inhabitants of Cairo with
the water of the Nile, which is conveyed in skins, the camel carrying a
pair of skin bags, and the ass a goat-skin, tied round at the neck. The
great thoroughfare-streets being often half obstructed by these animals,
and generally crowded with passengers, some on foot, and others riding,
present striking scenes of bustle and confusion, particularly when two
long trains of camels happen to meet each other where there is barely
room enough for them to pass, which is often the case. Asses are in very
general use, and most convenient for riding through such streets as
those of Cairo, and are always to be procured for hire. They are
preferred to horses even by some men of the wealthier classes of the
Egyptians. Their paces are quick and easy; and the kind of saddle with
which they are furnished is a very comfortable seat: it is a broad,
party-coloured pack-saddle. A servant generally runs with the donkey;
and exerts himself, by almost incessant bawling, to clear the way for
his master. The horseman proceeds with less comfort, and less
speed,—seldom beyond the rate of a slow walk; and though preceded by a
servant, and sometimes by two servants to clear his way, he is often
obliged to turn back: it is, therefore, not often that a numerous
cavalcade is seen in the more frequented streets; and there are some
streets so contracted that a person on horseback cannot pass through
them. It is not uncommon for individuals of the higher and middle
classes in Cairo to exchange salutations in the streets, though
unacquainted with each other. Thus the Muslim salutation was often given
to my brother, a fact which I mention merely to show the fallacy of the
opinion that the natives of the East can easily detect, even by a
glance, a European in Oriental disguise.