A great part of the interior of the citadel is obstructed by ruins and

rubbish, and there are many dwelling-houses and some shops within it.

The most remarkable monument that it contains is a great mosque, built

by the Sultán Ibn-Kala’-oon, in the early part of the eighth century

after the Flight (or the fourteenth of our era). It is in a ruinous

state, and no longer used as a place of worship. It consists of

porticoes, surrounding a square court.

On the northwest of this mosque, stood, about twelve or thirteen years

ago, a noble ruin—an old palace, commonly called Kasr Yoosuf, or Deewán

Yoosuf, and believed to have been the palace of Yoosuf Saláh-ed-Deen;

but erroneously. European travellers adopted the same opinion, and

called it “Joseph’s Hall.” My brother informs me, on the authority of

El-Makreezee, that this noble structure was built by the prince before

mentioned.[32] Huge ancient columns of granite were employed in its

construction; their capitals of various kinds, and ill-wrought, but the

shafts very fine. It had a large dome, which had fallen some time before

the ruin was taken down. On entering it was observed, in the centre of

the southeastern side, a niche, marking the direction of Mekkeh, like

that of a mosque, which in other respects this building did not much

resemble. Both within and without are remains of Arabic inscriptions, in

large letters of wood; but of which many had fallen long before its

demolition.

Footnote 32:

The Sultán Ibn-Kala’-oon.

A little to the west of the site of the old palace were the remains of a

very massive building, called “the house of Yoosuf Saláh-ed-Deen,”

partly on the brow, and partly on the declivity of the hill. From this

spot, on the edge of the hill, we have a most remarkable view of the

metropolis and its environs. Its numerous mád’nehs and domes, its

flat-topped houses, with the sloping sheds which serve as ventilators,

and a few palms and other trees among the houses, give it an appearance

quite unlike that of any European city. Beyond the metropolis we see the

Nile, intersecting a verdant plain; with the towns of Boolák, Masr

Ateekah, and El-Geezeh; on the south, the aqueduct, and the mounds of

rubbish which occupy the site of El-Fustát, and in the distance, all the

pyramids of Memphis, and the palm-groves on the site of that city. On

the north of the metropolis are seen the plains of Heliopolis and

Goshen. No one with a spark of feeling can look unmoved on such a

prospect: the physical sight has enough to charm it; but the deepest

interest is felt while, in gazing on this scene, the mind’s eye runs

rapidly over the historic pages of the Word of God. The oppression and

the deliverance of the tribes of Israel, and the miracles which marked

that deliverance, all these events are overwhelmingly present to the

memory, while looking on the scenes they have consecrated—their

subsequent prosperity, disobedience, and punishment, all pass in

melancholy review. O! that the power of Almighty God may be present with

those who labour for their restoration, and “may they at length,” as Mr.

Wilberforce beautifully expresses his petition on their behalf “may they

at length acknowledge their long-neglected Saviour.” Well have they been

described as “tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast.” Often

“houseless, homeless, and proscribed,” they endure every indignity and

become inured to every hardship; but the eye of God is still upon them,

and his ear is open to their prayers. How true it is, that hitherto

“they _will_ not turn to Him that they might receive mercy,” but they

are not forsaken; and while we hear with thankfulness of the zeal of

many from among their own people in the cause of Christianity, we trust

that the day is not far off when, rather than

“Weep for those who wept by Babel’s stream,

Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream,”

we shall rejoice in the prospect of that blessed time when the Lord God

shall “give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and

the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;” when all nations of

the earth shall “rejoice with Jerusalem, and be delighted with the

abundance of her glory.”

Adjacent to the Kasr Yoosuf is a very large mosque, not yet completed; a

costly structure, with a profusion of alabaster columns; but of a mixed

style of architecture, which I cannot much admire, though the effect of

the building, when it is finished, will certainly be grand. I need

hardly add, that the founder of this sumptuous edifice is Mohammad

’Alee, by whose name it is to be called.

The famous well of Yoosuf Saláh-ed-Deen, so called because it was

excavated in the reign of that Sultán, is near the southern angle of the

old great mosque. It is entirely cut in the calcareous rock, and

consists of two rectangular shafts, one below the other; with a winding

stairway round each to the bottom. In descending the first shaft my

heart and limbs failed me, and I contented myself with seeing as much as

I could through the large apertures between the stairs and the well. Our

guide bore a most picturesque aspect; she was a young girl, and if I

might judge by her beautiful dark eyes, her countenance must have been

lovely. She held a lighted taper in each hand, and stepped backwards

before us, down the dark and (in my opinion) dangerous descent.

Accustomed to the winding way, she continued fearlessly through the

gloom, while her light and graceful figure receded slowly, and the

glimmer of her tapers shone on the damp rock on either side, and made

the darkness seem intense.

The upper shaft is about 155 feet deep, and the lower about 125;

therefore the whole depth of the well is about 280 feet. The water,

which is rather brackish, is raised by a sákiyeh at the top of each

shaft.

There are several large edifices in the modern Turkish style, worthy in

this country of being called palaces, in the southern quarter of the

citadel, and in the quarter of the Janisaries, which did not form a part

of the _old_ citadel, and which lies to the east of the latter. Some of

the walls, together with many houses, on the northern slope of the hill,

were overthrown by the explosion of a magazine of powder, in the year

1824. On the western slope of the hill is an arsenal, with a

cannon-foundry, &c.

Mount Mukattam overlooks both the town and citadel of Cairo, and is

composed of a yellowish calcareous rock, abounding with testaceous

fossils: it is entirely destitute of verdure. Upon its flat summit, a

strong fort has been erected, with a steep causeway, upon high narrow

arches ascending to it. On each side of this causeway, the rock has been

extensively quarried. On the western side of the mountain are many

ancient sepulchral grottoes; but they are difficult of access, and I do

not propose visiting them. My brother has seen them, and he could find

no traces of hieroglyphics, or other decorations, in any of them.

On the north of the metropolis are many gardens, and, in the season of

the inundation, many lakes, in one of which (Birket er Ratlee) abundance

of lotus plants are seen in blossom in the month of September. In the

same tract is a ruined mosque, which was founded by Ez-Záhir Beybars, in

the year of the Flight 665 (A. D. 1266–7). The French converted it into

a fort.

Opposite the Báb en-Nasr is a large cemetery, occupying a desert tract;

and here is the tomb of the lamented Burckhardt.

The great Eastern cemetery, in the sandy waste between the metropolis

and the mountain, contains the tombs of many of the Memlook Sultáns.

Some of these mausolea (which have been erroneously regarded by some

travellers as the tombs of the Khaleefehs) are very noble buildings;

particularly those of the Sultáns Barkook,[33] and Káid-Bey,[34] or

Káitbey. None of the tombs of the Khaleefehs of Egypt now exist: Khán

el-Khaleelee (as I have mentioned in a former letter) occupies their

site. The central part of this cemetery contains several almshouses, and

is commonly called Káid-Bey. Here, and for some distance towards the

citadel, the tombs are closely crowded together, and the whole cemetery,

being intersected by roads, like streets in a town, may justly be called

a Necropolis, or City of the Dead. All the tract is desert; and few

persons are to be met here, excepting on the Friday morning, when it is

the custom of the Muslims to visit the tombs of their relations and

friends. Numerous groups of women are then seen repairing to the

cemetery; each bearing a palm-branch, to lay upon the tomb she is about

to visit.

Footnote 33:

Built by his son and successor Fárag, in the beginning of the ninth

century after the Flight, or the fifteenth of our era.

Footnote 34:

Built about a century after the former.

On the south of the metropolis is another great cemetery, called

El-Karáfeh, still more extensive, but not containing such grand

mausolea. This, also, is in a desert plain. Many of its tombs are very

beautiful: one kind is particularly elegant, consisting of an oblong

monument, generally of marble, canopied by a cupola, or by a pyramidal

roof, supported by marble columns. In the southern part of this cemetery

is the tomb of the celebrated Imám Esh-Sháfe’ee, the founder of one of

the four orthodox sects of El-Islám, that sect to which the people of

Cairo chiefly belong. This Imám died in the year of the Flight 204 (A.

D. 819–20.) The present mosque which covers his tomb, is a plain

whitewashed building, with a dome cased with lead. This mosque has been

twice rebuilt, the present being the third building, and about two

centuries and a half old. A little to the north of it is a low building,

which is the burial-place of the present Pasha’s family. Between this

cemetery and the mountain are many ancient mummy-pits choked with

rubbish. They evidently show that this tract was the Necropolis of

Egyptian Babylon.

Along the western side of the metropolis are several lakes and gardens.

The most remarkable of the latter are those of Ibraheem Pasha; but these

I might more properly call plantations. I have mentioned them in a

former letter. A great portion of the tract they occupy was, a few years

ago, covered by extensive mounds of rubbish, which, though not so large

nor so lofty as those on the east and south, concealed much of the town

from the view of persons approaching it in this direction. All the

camels, asses, &c., that die in the metropolis are cast upon the

surrounding hills of rubbish, where hungry dogs and vultures feed on

them.

On the bank of the river, between Boolák and Masr el-’Ateekah, are

several palaces, or mansions, among which is one belonging to Ibraheem

Pasha, besides a large square building called Kasr El-’Eynee (which is

an establishment for the education of youths destined for the service of

the government,) and a small convent of Darweeshes. A little to the

south of these buildings is the entrance of the khaleeg, or canal of

Cairo; and just above this commences the aqueduct by which the water of

the Nile is conveyed to the Citadel. A large hexagonal building, about

sixty or seventy feet high, contains the sákiyehs, which raise the water

to the channel of the aqueduct. The whole length of the aqueduct is

about two miles. It is built of stone; and consists of a series of

narrow arches, very gradually decreasing in height, as the ground has a

slight ascent, imperceptible to the eye. The water, towards the end of

its course, enters a subterranean channel, and is raised from a well in

the Citadel. This aqueduct was built (in the place of a former one of

wood) in the early part of the tenth century after the Flight (or the

sixteenth of our era.) To the south of the aqueduct lies the town of

Masr el-’Ateekah, the principal houses of which face the river, and the

island of Er-Ródah.

This island (the name of which signifies the Island of the Garden) is

about a mile and three-quarters in length, and a third of a mile in

breadth. The branch of the river on its eastern side is very narrow; and

when the Nile is at its lowest point, the bed of this narrow branch

becomes nearly dry. The island contains several pleasure-houses and

gardens; and the palm, the orange, the lime, the citron, the

pomegranate, the vine, the sycamore, (which affords a deep and broad

shade,) and the banana, form a luxuriant variety. The banana is

especially beautiful; its long leaves spreading and drooping from the

summit of the stem, like the branches of the palm-tree. On this verdant

island we find also the henna-tree, so much esteemed by the women of

this country for the dye afforded by its leaves, and so justly valued by

persons of all countries for the delicious perfume which its flowers

exhale. But the great charm of Er-Ródah is a garden belonging to

Ibraheem Pasha, under the able superintendence of Mr. Traill, who has

rendered it the most attractive thing of its kind in the neighbourhood

of Cairo.

Masr el-’Ateekah, though more than a mile in length, is a small

straggling town, lying along the bank of the Nile, and occupying a part

of the site of El-Fustát. Many of the vessels from Upper Egypt unload

here; and a constant intercourse is kept up, by means of numerous

ferryboats, between this town and El-Geezeh. Behind the town are

extensive low mounds of rubbishy covering the rest of the site of

El-Fustát. In this desolate tract are situated the Mosque of ’Amr, the

Kasr esh-Shema, and several Christian convents.

The Mosque of ’Amr has been so often repaired and rebuilt, that almost

every part of it may now be regarded as modern: yet there is something

very imposing in the associations connected with this building, where

the conqueror of Egypt, surrounded by “companions of the Prophet,” so

often prayed.

The building occupies a space about 350 feet square; its plan is a

square court, surrounded by porticoes, and its whole appearance very

simple and plain. The exterior is formed by high bare walls of brick.

The portico at the end of the court towards Mekkeh has six rows of

columns; that on the left side, four rows; that on the right, three; and

on the entrance side only one row. The columns are of veined marble;

some, being too small, have an additional plinth, or an inverted

capital, at the base. The capitals are of many different kinds, having

been taken, as also the columns, from various ancient buildings.

The Kasr esh-Shema is an old Roman fortress, which was the stronghold of

Egyptian Babylon, and the headquarters of the Greek army, which the

Arabs, under ’Amr, contended with and vanquished. It is said that this

building was, in ancient times, illuminated with candles on the first

night of every month; and hence it derived the name it now bears, which

signifies “the pavilion of the candles.” The area which it occupies

extends about a thousand feet from north to south, and six or seven

hundred feet from east to west. Its walls are very lofty, constructed of

brick with several courses of stone, and strengthened by round towers.

The interior is crowded with houses and shops, occupied by Christians,

and it contains several churches; among which is that of St. Sergius,

where a small grotto, somewhat resembling an oven, is shown as the

retreat of the Holy Family. The Egyptian Babylon was situated on a rocky

eminence, on the southeast of the Kasr esh-Shema. El-Makreezee and other

Arab historians prove that this was the Masr which ’Amr besieged and

took. There was another fortress here, besides the Kasr esh-Shema,

called the Kasr Bábel-yoon (or the pavilion of Babylon.) This, I am

told, was the spacious square building since called Istabl ’Antar (or

the stable of Antar,) which in later times became a convent, and is now

converted into a powder-magazine. To the west of the hill of Babylon,

and close to the Nile, is the small village of Atar em-Nebee; so called

from a stone, bearing the impression of the Prophet’s foot, preserved in

a small mosque, which rises, with a picturesque effect, from the verge

of the river.

El-Geezeh, which is opposite to Masr el-Ateekah, is a small poor town,

surrounded, excepting on the side towards the river, by a mean wall,

which would scarcely avail to defend it from a party of Bedawees. It has

been supposed to occupy a part of the site of Memphis; but this

conjecture is known to be erroneous.

I must mention also a few places north of the metropolis. A fine

straight road, bordered by mulberry trees, sycamores, and acacias, leads

to Shubra, the favourite country residence of the Pasha, rather more

than three miles from Cairo. The palace of Shubra is situated by the

Nile. Its exterior is picturesque, especially as viewed from the river,

and it has an extensive garden laid out with much taste.

About six miles distant from the northern gates of the metropolis,

towards the north-northeast, is the site of Heliopolis, the City of the

Sun, called by the Egyptians, “On;” and by the Arabs, “Eyn-Shems,” or,

“the fountain of the sun;” though, to bear this signification, the name

should, I am told, be written “Eyn esh-Shems,” which may also be

interpreted, “the rays, or light of the sun.” The route from Cairo to

the site of Heliopolis lies along the desert; but near the limits of the

cultivable soil. This part of the desert is a sandy flat, strewed with

pebbles, and with petrified wood, pudding-stone, red sandstone, &c. A

small mountain of red sandstone, called “El-Gebel el-Ahmar” (or “the red

mountain,”) lies at a short distance to the right, or east. On

approaching within a mile of the site of Heliopolis, the traveller

passes by the village of El-Matareeyeh, where are pointed out an old

sycamore, under the shade of which (according to tradition,) the Holy

Family reposed, and a well which afforded them drink. The balsam-tree

was formerly cultivated in the neighbouring fields: it thrived no where

else in Egypt; and it was believed that it flourished in this part

because it was watered from the neighbouring well. The name given by the

Arabs to Heliopolis was perhaps derived from this well. In a space above

half a mile square, surrounded by walls of crude brick, which now appear

like ridges of earth, were situated the sacred edifices of Heliopolis.

The only remaining monument appearing above the soil is a fine obelisk,

standing in the midst of the enclosure. The Arabs call it “the obelisk

of Pharaoh.” It is formed of a single block of red granite, about

sixty-two feet in height, and six feet square at the lower part. The

soil has risen four or five feet above its base; for, in the season of

the inundation, the water of the Nile enters the enclosure by a branch

of the canal of Cairo. Upon each of its sides is sculptured the same

hieroglyphic inscription, bearing the name of Osirtesen the First, who

reigned not very long after the age when the pyramids were constructed.

There are a few other monuments of his time: the obelisk of the Feryoo’m

is one of them. ’Abd El-Lateef, in speaking of Eyn-Shems, says that he

saw there (about the end of the twelfth century of the Christian era)

the remains of several colossal statues, and _two_ great obelisks, one

of which had fallen, and was broken in two pieces. These statues, and

the broken obelisk, probably now lie beneath the accumulated soil.

Such are the poor remains of Heliopolis, that celebrated seat of

learning, where Eudoxus and Plato studied thirteen years, and where

Herodotus derived much of his information respecting Egypt. In the time

of Strabo, the _city_ was altogether deserted; but the famous temple of

the sun still remained, though much injured by Cambyses. The bull Mevis

was worshipped at Heliopolis, as Apis was at Memphis. It is probable

that the “land of Goshen” was immediately adjacent to the province of

Heliopolis, on the north-northeast.

Thirteen miles from Cairo, in the same direction as Heliopolis, is the

village of El-Khánkeh, once a large town, and long the camp of the

regular troops. El-Khánkeh is two miles to the north of the Lake of the

Pilgrims, which is so called because the pilgrims collect and encamp by

it before they proceed in a body to Mekkeh. This lake is more than two

miles in length, from west to east, and a mile in breadth. It is filled

by the canal of Cairo during the season of the inundation.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

LETTER XIII.

December, 1842.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

You must bear with me if I recur to the subject of the haunted house,

for our disturbances came to a sort of climax which I think as curious

as it was exciting, and so strikingly characteristic, that I must

describe to you the particulars of the case.

Ramadán ended about a month ago, and with it ended the comparative quiet

of our nights. To describe to you all the various noises by which we

have been disturbed is impossible. Very frequently the door of the room

in which we were sitting late in the evening, within two or three hours

of midnight, was violently knocked at many short intervals: at other

times, it seemed as if something very heavy fell upon the pavement close

under one of the windows of the same room, or of one adjoining, and as

these rooms were on the top of the house, we imagined at first that some

stones or other things had been thrown by a neighbour, but we could find

nothing outside after the noises I have mentioned. The usual noises

continued during the greater part of the night, and were generally like

a heavy trampling, like the walking of a person in large clogs, varied

by knocking at the doors of many of the apartments, and at the large

water-jars which are placed in recesses in the galleries. Our maids have

come and gone like shadows ever since our residence here, excepting

during Ramadan, and _sauve qui peut_ seems to have been their maxim; for

they believe that one touch of an ’efreet would render them demoniacs.

A few evenings since, a maid, who had only passed two days in the house,

rushed to our usual sitting-room, whence she had just removed our

supper, exclaiming that a tall figure in white had stood with arms

outspread at the entrance of the upper gallery to prevent her passing.

We all immediately returned with her, and as you will anticipate, found

nothing. This white figure our servants call a saint, and they assert

that the house is haunted by a saint and an ’efreet. One man assures us

that this same saint, who is, to use his expression, “of dazzling

whiteness,” applied himself one night to the bucket of the well in the

court, and having drawn up water, performed his ablutions and said his

prayers. Frightening servant maids is rather inconsistent, I ween, with

such conduct. Certainly the servants do not complain without reason, and

it is particularly grievous, because there is not, throughout the whole

healthful part of the city, one comfortable house vacant.

During Ramadan, the Muslims believe that ’efreets are imprisoned, and

thus our servants accounted for our freedom from annoyance during that

month. We on the other hand believed we had bolted and barred out the

offender, by having discovered his place of ingress, and were much

disappointed at finding our precaution useless.

A few days since, our doorkeeper (a new servant), complained that he not

only could not sleep, but that he _never had_ slept since his arrival

more than a few minutes at a time, and that he never could sleep

consistently with duty, unless the ’efreet should be destroyed. He

added, that he came up every night into the upper gallery leading to our

sleeping-rooms, and there he found the figure I have mentioned, walking

round and round the gallery; and concluded with an anxious request that

my brother would consent to his firing at the phantom, saying that

devils have always been destroyed by the discharge of firearms. My

brother consented to the proposal, provided the servant used neither

ball nor small shot. Two days and nights passed, and we found on the

third, that the doorkeeper was waiting to ascertain whether the spectre

were a saint or a devil, and had therefore resolved to question him on

the ensuing night before he fired.

The Englishwoman in Egypt Letters from Cairo, Written During a Residence There in 1842, 3, & 4 · 第 8 / 18 段