Five Months at Cairo and in Lower Egypt. Authorized translation from the French ... by William Conn. With additional notes by the author, etc

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FIVE MONTHS AT CAIRO AND IN LOWER EGYPT. Five Months at Cairo AND IN Lower Egypt. AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION FROM THE FRENCH OF GABRIEL CHARMES BY WILLIAM CONN. With Additional Notes by the Author, now first Published. " Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky, In colour though varied, in beauty may vie. 'Tis the clime of the East ; 'tis the land of the sun " Byeox. LONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY & SON, NEW BURLINGTON ST. Dublisbtrs in ©rbinarg to fjtr jgtajcstg tbe Queen. 1883. [All Rights Reserved. | CONTENTS.

Chapter I. From Marseilles To Alexandria

For those not subject to sea-sickness, the passage Irom Marseilles to Alexandria is a real pleasure party. It lasts hardly six days, and is clearly divided into two periods. The first three days are delightful : the steamer follows the coast of France and Italy, passes the Straits of Messina, and remains a long time in sight of the coast of Calabria, whose varied forms and fine colours leave on the mind the most agreeable impression ; in the evening of the third day Etna disappears on the horizon in a golden light, and during the last three days of the passage, we are on the open sea ; at most, we perceive, when the air is very clear, the misty outline of Candia, like a great dark cloud hovering between the blue sky and the blue waves. We arrive in Egypt almost without seeing the land, so little elevated is the soil of this admirable country above the level of the sea.

But to enjoy the pleasures of the trip, we must be free from sea-sickness. Now, almost all the accounts of voyages to Egypt that I had read before my departure, from the Nil of M. Maxime du Camp to the Fellah of M. About, commenced invariably with the description, more or less original, of the sufferings of passengers who could not resist the movement of the waves, the terrible rolling and still more terrible pitching. I can only follow this literary custom in relating merely what I saw in default of having felt them. On leaving Marseilles, the steamer's deck is covered with a considerable crowd — relations, friends, mere acquaintances, come for a final hand-shaking with the voyagers ready to start. One might suppose that we were going to travel with a multitude of fellow voyagers, lively, agitated and full of business.

But the steamer hardly begins to move before the deck clears as if by enchantment; a few only remain around you, who fix for the last time an involuntarily tender glance on the shore of their country. By de grees these persons themselves seem to experience a certain agitation that has nothing in common with a moral emotion ; their faces become pale, but not from sadness ; and long, but not from regret. As soon as the port of Joliette is passed, they are seen to go down one by one into the cabins ; soon, one is alone or almost alone on deck to contemplate the picture of Marseilles, set on the shore of the Mediterranean at the foot of a chain of hills, now of an aspect quite oriental. It is a pity that such a picture should be admired by so small a number of spectators ; for this great city of Marseilles, overlooked by Notre-Dame-de-la-Garde, whose golden virgin shines in the distance like a sort of lighthouse closed in between the two forts Saint- Jean and Saint- Nicholas, above the creek Reserve, and extending as far as the promontory of Pharo, is a hundred-fold more beautiful to contemplate from the open sea than from the best chosen point on shore.

We salute on passing the Faubourg des Catalans and the Chateau d'lf, which romance has rendered quite as illustrious as history could have done. We double the island Maire, whose jagged rocks, covered with white foam, present a gloomy and desolate aspect ; then we glide into the full Mediterranean in following afar off the wonderful coast of Provence, whose end less curves, and folds, and bluish hills, abrupt heights, sun-reddened slopes, graceful creeks, and symmetrical capes, leave their outlines and shades a long time on the horizon. Nothing is more beautiful than this coast of Provence, and that which follows it as far as Nice, Vintimille, and Genoa. Except at the Bay of Naples, you must not expect to find before arriving at Alexandria more charming effects of colour and more delicate combinations of outlines, Soon, night falls, the dinner hour arrives.

It is then, especially, one may recognize and measure the effects of sea-sickness. At the sound of the bell the table is surrounded with a respectable number of passengers ; but soon, the glasses tinkle, the lustres swing overhead, the horizontal line of the sea rises and falls across the port-holes, the air seems close, every countenance assumes an indescribable expres sion, and when one looks around, the benches are seen to be suddenly vacated, and that the captain, the doctor, and a few sea-hardened old men are the only ones who have resisted this first attack where delicate stomachs have sailed. The deck is again filled by people stretched on long chairs endeavouring to struggle against the indisposition that is tormenting them. The open air is the best remedy, but it is necessary to have the courage to support the open air.

Most of the passengers shut themselves up in their cabins, from which they do not stir again. On arriving at Alexandria one is quite surprised at meet ing a multitude of unknown and disconcerted faces which seem to come up from the bottom of the sea. Have there really been, after all, so many people in the steamer? One would never have suspected it. On the morning of the second day, one wakes up off Corsica. When I was there, in the month of last December, the mountains of the island were covered with snow, which the first rays of a winter's sun reddened with a pale and modest tint. Corsica is charming under this white dress, disappearing in the light clouds equally white, in making the dark slopes of the cliffs stand out in greater relief, which serve as a kind of fringe. Arrived off Cape Corsica, a magnificent whale, throwing forward two tapering streams of water, and raising above the level of the waves its long black body, followed the steamer for some time.

It appears that it is well known to the sailors, for it has been living for many years in the same spot, where many voyagers have met it as well as I. Perhaps it has been placed there intentionally as a kind of advertisement or puff by the Company of the Messageries Maritimes. I was quite proud of having seen a whale in the Mediter ranean at so short a distance from France ; but since everybody may see it there ! . . . . After Corsica we pass near the island of Elba and the bare rock of Monte Christo. Here history and romance look at each other. Which of the two is the most marvellous ? The fortune of the hero of Monte Christo begun on the sterile rock, which rises, isolated, amidst the waves of the Mediterranean, is not more wonderful, more fairy-like, more filled with prodigious events, than that of the extraordinary man whose destiny, narrowly escaped from being fulfilled at the island of Elba, went to accomplish itself at the other extremity of Africa, in the direction even, where his grand-nephew, the last heir of his glory, and the fatal chances attached to his name, came to fall in his turn under the ignoble weapon of a savage !

The morning of the third day rises over the shores of the Bay of Naples. We see afar off an enormous and indistinct mass; on approaching we recognise Ischia, whose cliffs fall almost perpendicularly into the sea. However beautiful the Bay of Naples may be, seen from Naples itself, I do not know whether it does not appear still more beautiful when one dis covers it thus by degrees, in following one by one these beautiful islands of Ischia, Nisida, and Procida, so often sung by the poets. The few passengers who still remain on deck, tenderly pity their travelling companions shut up in their cabins, who, not a moment even in sight of this magnificent spectacle, think of murmuring between their pale lips : " Combien de fois pr£s du rivage Oil Nisida dort sur les mers, La beautd cre"dule ou volage Accourut k nos doux concerts !

" And yet as soon as one arrives opposite to this brilliant chain of poetical islands, the sea seems to change colour, whilst the hills on the horizon, whilst Pausilippo, and, at the other extremity of the Bay of Naples, Vesuvius, are clad in varied shades of brilliant blue, the Mediterranean is spread out afar like an immense emerald-green sheet sprinkled with white spots which the sails of the fisherman's boats cast in every direction ! The entry into the port is amidst a deafening noise from a crowd of little boats which come and fix themselves to the sides of the steamer. They are traders, musicians, acrobats, and even divers, who plunge to the bottom of the sea — in the middle of December even ! — to pick up the small coppers that are there thrown to them. We remain five or six hours at Naples : it is then possible to go ashore and run rapidly through the town.

The boldest go as far as Pompeii, whence they return out of breath. The most prudent are satisfied with going up to the monastery of San Martino, in order to contemplate for a few moments the panorama of the bay, the principal objects of which they had just been admiring. The ascent is not long, though the road follows a very deep declivity. This road is bordered on each side by broom in flower and verdant shrubs. I will not describe, after many others, the delightful spectacle presented to the eyes when one has arrived at San Martino, and then walks on the ramparts of the monastery. Who then could have admired it, once merely, and that once but a few minutes even, in leaving to his thoughts free scope to the tender and profound impressions which it inspires, to the in vincible sentiments that are formed and developed, without retaining from such a scene a never-fading remembrance ?

When I left Naples it was nightfall, and for the first time since my departure from Marseilles the sky was cloudless. Vesuvius, however, remained wrapt up in a sort of fog, which concealed three quarters of it ; the summit alone was clear, and the lava which flowed from it was like an immense glowing scarf unfurled amid the stars. This kind of via lactea of a sparkling red produced an effect difficult to describe. The view of Naples by night, in open sea, is moreover singularly beautiful ; the city and all the villages that extend along the bay, from Castellamara to Pausilippo, were filled with lights : one might imagine at a distance an immense fiery horseshoe. Put above this luminous semicircle a sky sown with stars and streaked with the sanguineous roll from Vesuvius ; listen to the murmuring of the waves breaking against the sides of the ship ; plunge in imagination into this immense mystery of the night, the winds, the waves, you will have an idea of one of those sublime scenes of nature whose charm imposes itself on imaginations the most unimpressible, and moves hearts as cold as stone !

About fifteen hours after leaving the Bay of Naples, we arrive at the Straits of Messina. These straits are so narrow that the two coasts are distinctly seen — the Italian and the Sicilian ; the houses, the gardens, the trees, the people even, appear in their true proportions. The coast of Italy is lower, and the less animated of the two ; it is composed of ranges of naked hills, interrupted here and there by torrents, or rather beds of torrents, of the largest dimensions, but which are filled only on stormy days, or at the melting of the snow. One may discern very clearly the railway to Reggio, a pretty little town situated almost in face of Messina. The coast of Sicily, much more elevated, much more broken than the former, is formed of mountains cut in every direction by cascades and torrents, and covered with wood of an intense verdure.

Etna commands it entirely, and its imposing and graceful brow, with its snows, some almost, some quite, perpetual, presents an aspect really sublime. At the summit of the volcano, the crater barely fuming, resembles a black crown surmounting a vast white cloak. The passage of the Straits of Messina lasts two hours, during which two hours one never tires of admiring. One barely notices, on pass ing, Charybdis and Scylla, so much dreaded by the ancients. This souvenir of classic terror dispels in no way the tranquil pleasure the aspect of so charm ing a strait inevitably excites. When we have left it, we still perceive for a long while the blue coast of Calabria, bathed in the purest light. At last, Etna itself sinks under the horizon, and we fall upon a prospect, monotonous, scant, — I was going to say, almost mean, of the sea.

We leave it no more this side of Alexandria. Whatever certain voyagers assert, the open sea is wearisome and fatiguing ; it gives no idea of grandeur : on the con trary, the horizon there seems much nearer to the spectator than when the land, and especially the mountains, aid the eye to measure the distance. The three last days of the passage would, therefore, be gloomy enough but for the sun-risings and sunsettings. But in proportion as we approach the East, the light of the rising and setting takes the tones of marvellous warmth ; the sky becomes deep green, as in the pictures of certain Oriental painters, and streaked in long lines with blood-red clouds, which the rays of the sun penetrate with golden darts. After having sufficiently contemplated nature during the first three days of the voyage, the last three may serve to form an acquaintance with one's fellow voyagers.

All those who are not condemned to perpetual sea-sickness are afoot ; the first attacked by the malady, once passed, have recovered, and begin to talk ; their observations give you a prelimi nary taste of the country you are going to see. Pre occupied as a matter of business with the political question, I consulted several French passengers, who have been long established at Cairo or Alexandria, on the reforms undertaken by France and England in December, 1878, during the vice-royalty of Ismail Pacha. All, or almost all, I should say, asserted with a firm conviction that no progress could be possible so long as the Khedive remained on the throne. I found them very violent ; I blamed in them French volatility. I was obliged to admit later that they were right. The presence of a son of Ismail Pacha, Prince Hassan, generalissimo of the Egyptian armies, whom we had taken on board on leaving Naples, was no embarrassment to these observations.

Like all Orientals, Prince Hassan was very affable, he was seen constantly talking with the sailors and passen gers of the third class. His suite was not numerous, it was composed of two or three persons, among whom a young pacha, who appeared to be the accom plished type of the European gentleman ; of a nature delicate, nervous, intelligent, he might have been taken, and I took him for a product, the most refined of our civilization. Scratch the European Turk, you will find the Oriental with all his characteristics ! This pacha had been one of the most docile instruments of the Khedive; it was he even who had served as jailer to that unhappy financial minister, Ismail Sadyk, who, as is known, has never come out of prison. I learnt that only on arriving at Alex andria. I had had then, without suspecting it, on board the steamer even, not only a specimen of the skies, but a specimen of the men of the East ; so true is it that a passage rather long always pre pares for a knowledge of the country one is going to visit.

The entrance of the port of Alexandria is singu larly difficult : no Frenchman ought to be ignorant of it, since it is precisely what provoked the disaster of Aboukir. A violent tempest raged over the open sea when we perceived afar, like a needle bristling on the horizon almost imperceptibly, the Pharos of Alexandria. It was not everything, seeing the light house ; in a sea so raging, could we enter into the harbour ? The question was very doubtful, and in the absence of Prince Hassan it certainly would have been solved by a negative. But what does not one do, in the East especially, to spare a prince a few disagreeable hours ? We feared to have had no pilot : we had two, and besides a great tow-boat. It was with this escort that we entered the great basin of Alexandria. You must be quite close to this basin to distinguish the coast, which hardly rises, as I mentioned, above the level of the sea.

This coast, moreover, has nothing remarkable : on the right extends a series of sand-hills, covered with windmills, then an immense building, which served as a palace to Said Pacha. Alexandria occupies the centre of the water-line. On the left, Ramleh — a little pleasure station, where the Alexandrians go to take their sea baths and refuge in summer, to escape from the overwhelming heat of the city — spreads out its walls, bleached and grilled by the sun. What is striking in this spectacle, not remarkable of itself, is the novel tint of the firmament, the ground, the trees, and the houses. At the sight of those old walls, baked and rebaked by the heat, whose red hue recalls the pictures of Marilhat, you recognize the East. The entrance of the great basin is imposing : it was particularly so the day of my arrival.

Every fort that covered the beach fired salvos of cannon ; the ships were decked with flags ; the sailors on the yard-arms shouted enthusiastically; the military bands launched forth notes that were lost in the general tumult; a hun dred little boats, filled with Arabs clad in many coloured costumes, followed the steamer in cheering us. It would have depended on me only to have persuaded myself that all this ceremony was in my honour 1 It seemed so strange to a Frenchman, accustomed to domestic life in Paris, to find himself all at once transplanted in the full East, that it would be easy for him to admit that the East had put itself to some expense to receive him. But, alas ! if this little vanity had penetrated into my mind, it would not have long dwelt there. Hardly had we stopped, when an Egyptian battalion, led by a general wearing enormous epaulettes, the medal of the Medjidie on his breast, a damascened sabre at his side, a kepi, quite covered with golden lace on his head, came to salute Prince Hassan and offer his services to remove his luggage.

The prince having left, the general occupied himself with the baggage — in fact, like a simple agent. On seeing him, the list in his hand, trying to recognise and then to get up on deck the prince's trunks, which his officers and soldiers afterwards carried away, I was indeed obliged to admit that it was not for me that Alexandria had spread its bunting and fired its cannon. I had no general to get up my trunks ! By way of retaliation, I had to protect them against a crowd of monsters, black, bronzed, and yellow, clad in costumes as brilliant in their style as the general's uniform, or in rags and tatters a thousand times more picturesque. Everyone wanted to seize them, either to take me into their boat, or to conduct me to some particular hotel. Hardly had we arrived in the harbour before the steamer is literally taken by assault by this swarm of natives, yelling, laughing, gesticulating, hustling one another, and almost crushing the voyagers.

I took the Orientals to be reserved and silent ; this first experience has proved that the Egyptians at least are wonderfully communicative and turbu lent : this impression has subsequently been amply justified. At last, I gave myself up to a splendid nigger of imposing figure and with a look almost ferocious. It was under his care that I entered Alexandria. No doubt my vanity would have been more flattered if a general covered with medals had carried my portmanteau ; but in a country where equality does not exist, we take what we find, and, in default of a general gilded over every seam, we must be contented with a negro, as black as ebony and as strong as Hercules !

Chapter II. Alexandria

On arriving at Alexandria, most travellers, especially when the fatigues of the journey have disposed them for philosophical reflections, struck with the entirely modern character and little extent of this city, formerly so celebrated, write a few eloquent pages on the versatility of human things and on the violent revolu tions that destroy temples, palaces, gymnasiums, and libraries, to replace them by European houses of rather bad taste. Never has a subject, we must admit, better offered itself to developments of this kind. However little the imagination may be stocked with history, philosophy, art, and politics, the souvenirs of Alexander, of Ammonius, of Plotinus, of Porphyrius, of Amru, of Omar, etc., without forgetting those of Antony and Cleopatra, murmur in the memory as soon as we perceive Alexandria.

This is what has become then of this city, which passed in antiquity for the most beautiful in the world ! It was still beautiful when Amru led into it his victorious army. " I have conquered the City of the West," wrote he to Omar, "and I could not enumerate all that is con tained within its walls. It contains four thousand baths, and twelve thousand dealers in green vegetables, four thousand Jews paying tribute, four thousand musicians and dancers." Uttle dulci! There were as many Jews paying tribute as musicians and dancers helping to spend it. The world has much changed ! At present, the Jews, however little European they may be, or however little protected by any European Consul whomsoever, pay no longer anything at all. As a consequence, the musicians and dancers have equally diminished in number and importance.

As to the dealers in green vegetables, I cannot say whether they have submitted to the same law of decadence. One, however, may rest easy : it is evidently not vegetables that will ever be wanting in Egypt. Amru had good reasons for admiring Alexandria ; he had not taken it without striking a blow ; he even narrowly escaped paying for his conquest with his life. Fallen in an assault into the hands of the enemy, with his lieutenant Mouslemeh ben Mokhallad and his freed-man Ouerdan, the patrician of the city had all three brought before him. — " You are my prisoners," said he to them, " inform me what you wished to do with us, and for what object you make war against us." Mahometan uncompromising, Amru replied to him, " We will either convert you to Islamism, our religion, or subject you to pay us tribute ; and we shall not cease to ALEXANDRIA. 17 fight until the orders of God have been fully executed."

Amru was brave, but wanted prudence. Struck with the haughtiness of his language, the Greeks, who did not know which were the prisoners, understood that they had to do with quite another thing than with simple soldiers. — " This man," said the patrician, turning to his guards, " can be no other than one of the principal chiefs of the Mussulman army : let his head be struck off!" But Ouerdan knew the Greek language : he had heard and understood the patrician's orders. Immediately pulling Amru with violence and giving him a hard blow. " What is that," cried he, " and what is the meaning of those words? Thou, one of the least of our army, durst thou explain the intentions of thy chiefs ; be silent and leave those to speak who are above thee." At this scene, the patrician, changing his opinion on the supposed rank of Amru, revoked his order.

It was Mouslemeh's turn to speak. " Our general," said he, " is ready to retire, but he would like to establish a conference between the leaders of each army to settle the conditions of his departure ; we will inform him of your humanity to us, and this consideration will contribute not a little to the decision he is going to take." The patrician fell into the snare : he gave Amru and his companions their liberty, who soon re-entered as conquerors into the city, from which they had escaped as prisoners by a process some what Jesuitic. Amru was right in calling Alexandria " the City of the West." Greek civilisation, whence came Western civilisation, had shone there with a last and still charming brilliancy. The Arabs came to inherit this civilisation, and to bear it on the arms of their victorious soldiers as far as into the heart of Spain ; but the fatal principle of Islamism would not permit them to accept the final consequences of it, and it was, in fact, a germ of death that Amru introduced into Alexandria when he made his triumphal entry into it amidst universal enthusiasm, the first Friday of the month of Moharrem, of the year 20 of the Hegira, whilst the solemn prayers of the Mussulmans rising towards heaven rendered thanks to Allah for so brilliant a success.

This germ of death has singularly developed since : Alexandria is now no more than a little town without character, either European or Arabian, but holding an intermediate position between the West and the East. It is the centre of the commerce and the business of all Egypt, and if it is not the official capital, since the Viceroy resides at Cairo, it is at least the real capital of the European colonies, which, through infiltration, are in the way of making the conquest of this rich and fruitful country as surely, perhaps, as the Arabs did formerly by their arms. It is there that is established the Court of Appeal of the new judicial organisation, that is to say, decidedly the greatest political force in contemporary Egypt. It ALEXANDRIA. 19 is there also the great banking houses, the brokers of all kinds, the agents of commerce and contraband, have established their centre of operations.

Immense fortunes have been made there these latter years. Luxury shines there in all its splendour, rather European though than Oriental. Many streets strongly resemble our French streets : when one is promenading there, in order to remember that one is in Egypt, it is necessary to turn one's eyes from the houses and contemplate merely the mottled crowd of passers-by. These streets indicate their names, and each house has its number, what is nowhere else seen in Egypt. In Cairo, for instance, if you ask for the address of a person, they will tell you for your full information, that he lives near such and such a person who is known. It is for you to find out his residence on this scanty information. This business requires sometimes many hours' searching. With such a system, of course, there could be no postmen.

Every one claims his letters at the post-office on indicating his surname, Christian name, and profession. As almost all the Arabs are called Mohamed, Mahmoud, Hussein, or Hassan, the problem is singularly complicated for them, and many letters go astray. The streets of Alexandria, moreover, are paved, a thing quite special to this city, or rather to certain districts of this city. In the others, and even at Cairo, the dust and the mud have it all their own way. But it would be an error to suppose that it is the Egyptian administration who has incurred the cost of paving : it is the merchants and the Europeans, who, tired of conveying their merchandise over almost impracti cable roads, assembled together one day to carry out this great enterprise. That has not been so easy as one might suppose.

It was necessary to come to an understanding with the proper authorities. Now, who were these authorities ? Nobody knew them. The European merchants found themselves at first in presence of a kind of municipal council ; all at once this council disappeared, and it was with the governor general of Alexandria that they were obliged to treat : but the governor disappeared in his turn, and the commission came suddenly to life again. Amidst all these administrative revolutions the European merchants have pursued their work with tenacity ; they have formed a committee, which has paid the half of the work ; the proprietors of the houses have paid the other half. But there was a house inhabited by a santon, and a saint could not be subjected to the common law ! The European merchants clubbed together to exempt the saint from all material sacrifice.

The Mussulmans could not permit a santon to pay any tax whatever. Like the rat of La Fontaine, the affairs here below in no way con cern him. The unhappy fellahs pay the taxes they owe, as well as those they do not owe, without ven turing on the slightest murmur ; but a revolution was very near breaking out in a district of Upper Egypt ALEXANDRIA. 21 because a collector claimed his assessment from a santon ! It might have been serious to stir up for a few paving stones a commotion of this sort in Alexandria. Let us not, however, admire dispropor tionately the generosity of the Europeans. What they have done for the santon certainly does not compensate for what the natives give them every day. The Europeans pay no municipal tax, no rate on their houses, stables, gardens, etc. : it is the natives who are obliged to provide for all the expenses for the maintenance and embellishment of the city.