Visits to Monasteries in the Levant
by Robert Curzon · English · Gutenberg #32397 · 669,914 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: Visits to Monasteries in the Levant
Author: Robert Curzon
Release date: May 16, 2010 [eBook #32397]
Most recently updated: February 3, 2011
Language: English
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[Illustration: Book's cover, CURZON'S MONASTERIES]
[Illustration: From a Drawing made on the spot by Viscount Eastnor.
VIEW OF THE GREAT MONASTERY OF METEORA, FROM THE MONASTERY OF BARLAAM,
WITH THE RIVER PENEUS IN THE DISTANCE.]
VISITS TO MONASTERIES
IN
THE LEVANT.
BY THE
HONBLE. ROBERT CURZON, JUN.
[Illustration: From a Sketch by R. Curzon.
Interior of the Court of a Greek Monastery. A monk is calling the
congregation to prayer, by beating a board called the simandro
(σιμανδρο) which is generally used instead of bells.]
WITH NUMEROUS WOODCUTS.
LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.
1849.
PREFACE.
In presenting to the public another book of travels in the East, when it
is already overwhelmed with little volumes about palm-trees and camels,
and reflections on the Pyramids, I am aware that I am committing an act
which requires some better excuse for so unwarrantable an intrusion on
the patience of the reader than any that I am able to offer.
The origin of these pages is as follows:--I was staying by myself in an
old country-house belonging to my family, but not often inhabited by
them, and, having nothing to do in the evening, I looked about for some
occupation to amuse the passing hours. In the room where I was sitting
there was a large book-case full of ancient manuscripts, many of which
had been collected by myself, in various out-of-the-way places, in
different parts of the world. Taking some of these ponderous volumes
from their shelves, I turned over their wide vellum leaves, and admired
the antiquity of one, and the gold and azure which gleamed upon the
pages of another. The sight of these books brought before my mind many
scenes and recollections of the countries from which they came, and I
said to myself, I know what I will do; I will write down some account of
the most curious of these manuscripts, and the places in which they were
found, as well as some of the adventures which I encountered in the
pursuit of my venerable game.
I sat down accordingly, and in a short time accumulated a heap of papers
connected more or less with the history of the ancient manuscripts; at
the desire of some of my friends I selected the following pages, and it
is with great diffidence that I present them to the public. If they have
any merits whatever, these must consist in their containing descriptions
of localities but seldom visited in modern times; or if they refer to
places better known to the general reader, I hope that the peculiar
circumstances which occurred during my stay there, or on my journeys
through the neighbouring countries, may be found sufficiently
interesting to afford some excuse for my presumption in sending them to
the press.
I have no further apology to offer. These slight sketches were written
for my own diversion when I had nothing better to do, and if they afford
any pleasure to the reader under the same circumstances, they will
answer as much purpose as was intended in their composition.
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER Page xix
PART I.
EGYPT IN 1833.
CHAPTER I.
Navarino--The Wrecks of the Turkish and Egyptian Fleets--Alexandria--An
Arab Pilot--Intense Heat--Scene from the Hotel
Windows--The Water-Carriers--A Procession--A Bridal Party--Violent
mode of clearing the Road--Submissive Behaviour of
the People--Astonishing Number of Donkeys--Bedouin Arabs;
their wild and savage appearance--Early Hours--Visit to the
Pasha's Prime Minister, Boghos Bey; hospitable reception--Kawasses
and Chaoushes; their functions and powers--The Yassakjis--The
Minister's Audience Chamber--Walmas; anecdote
of his saving the life of Boghos Bey 1
CHAPTER II.
Rapacity of the Dragomans--The Mahmoudieh Canal--The Nile
at Atfeh--The muddy Waters of the Nile--Richness of the Soil--Accident
to the Boatmen--Night Sailing--A Collision--A
Vessel run down--Escape of the Crew--Solemn Investigation--Final
Judgment--Curious Mode of Fishing--Tameness of the
Birds--Jewish Malefactors--Moving Pillar of Sand--Arrival
at Cairo--Hospitable Reception by the Consul-General 14
CHAPTER III.
National Topics of Conversation--The Rising of the Nile; evil
effects of its rising too high; still worse consequences of a deficiency
of its waters--The Nilometer--Universal Alarm in August, 1833--The
Nile at length rises to the desired Height--Ceremony of
cutting the Embankment--The Canal of the Khalidj--Immense
Assemblage of People--The State Tent--Arrival of Habeeb
Effendi--Splendid Dresses of the Officers--Exertions of the Arab
Workmen--Their Scramble for Paras--Admission of the Water--Its
sudden Irruption--Excitement of the Ladies--Picturesque
Effect of large Assemblies in the East 27
CHAPTER IV.
Early Hours in the Levant--Compulsory Use of Lanterns in Cairo--Separation
of the different Quarters of the City--Custom of sleeping
in the open air--The Mahomedan Times of Prayer--Impressive
Effect of the Morning Call to Prayer from the Minarets--The
last Prayer-time, Al Assr--Bedouin Mode of ascertaining this
Hour--Ancient Form of the Mosques--The Mosque of Sultan
Hassan--Egyptian Mode of "raising the Supplies"--Sultan
Hassan's Mosque the Scene of frequent Conflicts--The Slaughter
of the Mameluke Beys in the Place of Roumayli--Escape of one
Mameluke, and his subsequent Friendship with Mohammed Ali--The
Talisman of Cairo--Joseph's Well and Hall--Mohammed
Ali's Mosque--His Residence in the Citadel--The Harem--Degraded
State of the Women in the East 35
CHAPTER V.
Interview with Mohammed Ali Pasha--Mode of lighting a Room in
Egypt--Personal Appearance of the Pasha--His Diamond-mounted
Pipe--The lost Handkerchief--An unceremonious
Attendant--View of Cairo from the Citadel--Site of Memphis;
its immense extent--The Tombs of the Caliphs--The Pasha's
Mausoleum--Costume of Egyptian Ladies--The Cobcob, or
Wooden Clog--Mode of dressing the Hair--The Veil--Mistaken
Idea that the Egyptian Ladies are Prisoners in the Harem;
their power of doing as they like--The Veil a complete Disguise--Laws
of the Harem--A Levantine Beauty--Eastern Manners--The
Abyssinian Slaves--Arab Girls--Ugliness of the Arab
Women when old--Venerable Appearance of the old Men--An
Arab Sheick 47
CHAPTER VI.
Mohammed Bey, Defterdar--His Expedition to Senaar--His Barbarity
and Rapacity--His Defiance of the Pasha--Stories of his
Cruelty and Tyranny--The Horse-shoe--The Fight of the
Mamelukes--His cruel Treachery--His Mode of administering
Justice--The stolen Milk--The Widow's Cow--Sale and Distribution
of the Thief--The Turkish Character--Pleasures of a
Journey on the Nile--The Copts--Their Patriarchs--The Patriarch
of Abyssinia--Basileos Bey--His Boat--An American's
choice of a Sleeping-place 64
NATRON LAKES.
CHAPTER VII.
Visit to the Coptic Monasteries near the Natron Lakes--The Desert
of Nitria--Early Christian Anchorites--St. Macarius of Alexandria--His
Abstinence and Penance--Order of Monks founded
by him--Great increase of the Number of ascetic Monks in the
Fourth Century--Their subsequent decrease, and the present
ruined state of the Monasteries--Legends of the Desert--Capture
of a Lizard--Its alarming escape--The Convent of Baramous--Night
attacks--Invasion of Sanctuary--Ancient Glass Lamps--Monastery
of Souriani--Its Library and Coptic MSS.--The Blind
Abbot and his Oil-cellar--The persuasive powers of Rosoglio--Discovery
of Syriac MSS.--The Abbot's supposed treasure 75
CHAPTER VIII.
View from the Convent Wall--Appearance of the Desert--Its
grandeur and freedom--Its contrast to the Convent Garden--Beauty
and luxuriance of Eastern Vegetation--Picturesque Group
of the Monks and their Visitors--The Abyssinian Monks--Their
appearance--Their austere mode of Life--The Abyssinian
College--Description of the Library--The mode of Writing in
Abyssinia--Immense Labour required to write an Abyssinian
book--Paintings and Illuminations--Disappointment of the
Abbot at finding the supposed Treasure-box only an old Book--Purchase
of the MSS. and Books--The most precious left behind--Since
acquired for the British Museum 90
THE CONVENT OF THE PULLEY.
CHAPTER IX.
The Convent of the Pulley--Its inaccessible position--Difficult
landing on the bank of the Nile--Approach to the Convent
through the Rocks--Description of the Convent and its Inhabitants--Plan
of the Church--Books and MSS.--Ancient
excavations--Stone Quarries and ancient Tombs--Alarm of the
Copts--Their ideas of a Sketch-book 105
RUINED MONASTERY AT THEBES.
CHAPTER X.
Ruined Monastery in the Necropolis of Thebes--"Mr. Hay's Tomb"--The
Coptic Carpenter--His acquirements and troubles--He
agrees to show the MSS. belonging to the ruined Monastery, which
are under his charge--Night visit to the Tomb in which they are
concealed--Perils of the way--Description of the Tomb--Probably
in former times a Christian Church--Examination of the
Coptic MSS.--Alarming interruption--Hurried flight from the
Evil Spirits--Fortunate escape--Appearance of the Evil Spirit--Observations
on Ghost Stories--The Legend of the Old Woman
of Berkeley considered 117
THE WHITE MONASTERY.
CHAPTER XI.
The White Monastery--Abou Shenood--Devastations of the
Mamelukes--Description of the Monastery--Different styles of its
exterior and interior Architecture--Its ruinous condition--Description
of the Church--The Baptistery--Ancient Rites of Baptism--The
Library--Modern Architecture--The Church of San Francesco at Rimini--The
Red Monastery--Alarming rencontre with an armed party--Feuds between the
native Tribes--Faction fights--Eastern Story Tellers--Legends of the
Desert--Abraham and Sarah--Legendary Life of Moses--Arabian
Story-tellers--Attention of their Audience 130
THE ISLAND OF PHILŒ, &c.
CHAPTER XII.
The Island of Philœ--The Cataract of Assouan--The Burial Place
of Osiris--The Great Temple of Philœ--The Bed of Pharaoh--Shooting
in Egypt--Turtle Doves--Story of the Prince Anas el
Ajoud--Egyptian Songs--Vow of the Turtle Dove--Curious
fact in Natural History--The Crocodile and its Guardian Bird--Arab
notions regarding Animals--Legend of King Solomon and
the Hoopoes--Natives of the country round the Cataracts of the
Nile--Their appearance and Costume--The beautiful Mouna--Solitary
Visit to the Island of Philœ--Quarrel between two native
Boys--Singular instance of retributive Justice 141
PART II.
JERUSALEM AND THE MONASTERY OF
ST. SABBA.
CHAPTER XIII.
Journey to Jerusalem--First View of the Holy City--The Valley
of Gihon--Appearance of the City--The Latin Convent of St.
Salvador--Inhospitable Reception by the Monks--Visit to the
Church of the Holy Sepulchre--Description of the Interior--The
Chapel of the Sepulchre--The Chapel of the Cross on Mount
Calvary--The Tomb and Sword of Godfrey de Bouillon--Arguments
in favour of the Authenticity of the Holy Sepulchre--The
Invention of the Cross by the Empress Helena--Legend of the
Cross 165
CHAPTER XIV.
The Via Dolorosa--The Houses of Dives and of Lazarus--The Prison of St
Peter--The Site of the Temple of Solomon--The Mosque of Omar--The Hadjr
el Sakhara--The Greek Monastery--Its Library--Valuable
Manuscripts--Splendid MS. of the Book of Job--Arabic spoken at
Jerusalem--Mussulman Theory regarding the Crucifixion--State of the
Jews--Richness of their Dress in their own Houses--Beauty of their
Women--Their literal Interpretation of Scripture--The Service in the
Synagogue--Description of the House of a Rabbi--The Samaritans--Their
Roll of the Pentateuch--Arrival of Ibrahim Pasha at Jerusalem 181
CHAPTER XV.
Expedition to the Monastery of St. Sabba--Reports of Arab Robbers--The
Valley of Jehoshaphat--The Bridge of Al Sirat--Rugged
Scenery--An Arab Ambuscade--A successful Parley--The
Monastery of St. Sabba--History of the Saint--The Greek
Hermits--The Church--The Iconostasis--The Library--Numerous
MSS.--The Dead Sea--The Scene of the Temptation--Discovery--The
Apple of the Dead Sea--The Statements of
Strabo and Pliny confirmed 192
CHAPTER XVI.
Church of the Holy Sepulchre--Processions of the Copts--The
Syrian Maronites and the Greeks--Riotous Behaviour of the Pilgrims--Their
immense numbers--The Chant of the Latin Monks--Ibrahim
Pasha--The Exhibition of the Sacred Fire--Excitement
of the Pilgrims--The Patriarch obtains the Sacred Fire from the
Holy Sepulchre--Contest for the Holy Light--Immense sum paid
for the privilege of receiving it first--Fatal Effects of the Heat
and Smoke--Departure of Ibrahim Pasha--Horrible Catastrophe--Dreadful
Loss of Life among the Pilgrims in their endeavours
to leave the Church--Battle with the Soldiers--Our Narrow
Escape--Shocking Scene in the Court of the Church--Humane
Conduct of Ibrahim Pasha--Superstition of the Pilgrims regarding
Shrouds--Scallop Shells and Palm Branches--The Dead
Muleteer--Moonlight View of the Dead Bodies--The Curse on
Jerusalem--Departure from the Holy City 208
PART III.
THE MONASTERIES OF METEORA.
CHAPTER XVII.
Albania--Ignorance at Corfu concerning that Country--Its reported
abundance of Game and Robbers--The Disturbed State of the
Country--The Albanians--Richness of their Arms--Their free
use of them--Comparative Safety of Foreigners--Tragic Fate of
a German Botanist--Arrival at Gominitza--Ride to Paramathia--A
Night's Bivouac--Reception at Paramathia--Albanian Ladies--Yanina--Albanian
Mode of settling a Quarrel--Expected
Attack from Robbers--A Body-Guard mounted--Audience with
the Vizir--His Views of Criminal Jurisprudence--Retinue of the
Vizir--His Troops--Adoption of the European Exercises--Expedition
to Berat--Calmness and Self-possession of the Turks--Active
Preparations for Warfare--Scene at the Bazaar--Valiant
Promises of the Soldiers 235
CHAPTER XVIII.
Start for Meteora--Rencontre with a Wounded Traveller--Barbarity
of the Robbers--Albanian Innkeeper--Effect of the
Turkish Language upon the Greeks--Mezzovo--Interview with
the chief Person in the Village--Mount Pindus--Capture by
Robbers--Salutary effects of Swaggering--Arrival under Escort
at the Robbers' Head-Quarters--Affairs take a favourable turn--An
unexpected Friendship with the Robber Chief--The Khan of
Malacash--Beauty of the Scenery--Activity of our Guards--Loss
of Character--Arrival at Meteora 257
CHAPTER XIX.
Meteora--The extraordinary Character of its Scenery--Its Caves formerly
the Resort of Ascetics--Barbarous Persecution of the Hermits--Their
extraordinary Religious Observances--Singular Position of the
Monasteries--The Monastery of Barlaam--The difficulty of reaching
it--Ascent by a Windlass and Net, or by Ladders--Narrow
Escape--Hospitable Reception by the Monks--The Agoumenos, or Abbot--His
strict Fast--Description of the Monastery--The Church--Symbolism in the
Greek Church--Respect for Antiquity--The Library--Determination of the
Abbot not to sell any of the MSS.--The Refectory--Its
Decorations--Aërial Descent--The Monastery of Hagios Stephanos--Its
Carved Iconostasis--Beautiful View from the Monastery--Monastery of Agia
Triada--Summary Justice at Triada--Monastery of Agia Roserea--Its Lady
Occupants--Admission refused 279
CHAPTER XX.
The great Monastery of Meteora--The Church--Ugliness of the
Portraits of Greek Saints--Greek Mode of Washing the Hands--A
Monastic Supper--Morning View from the Monastery--The
Library--Beautiful MSS.--Their Purchase--The Kitchen--Discussion
among the Monks as to the Purchase Money for the
MSS.--The MSS. reclaimed--A last look at their Beauties--Proposed
Assault of the Monastery by the Robber Escort 298
CHAPTER XXI.
Return Journey--Narrow Escape--Consequences of Singing--Arrival
at the Khan of Malacash--Agreeable Anecdote--Parting
from the Robbers at Messovo--A Pilau--Wet Ride to
Paramathia--Accident to the Baggage-Mule--Its wonderful
Escape--Novel Costume--A Deputation--Return to Corfu 312
PART IV.
THE MONASTERIES OF MOUNT ATHOS.
CHAPTER XXII.
Constantinople--The Patriarch's Palace--The Plague, Anecdotes,
Superstitions--The Two Jews--Interview with the Patriarch--Ceremonies
of Reception--The Patriarch's Misconception as to
the Archbishop of Canterbury--He addresses a Firman to the
Monks of Mount Athos--Preparations for Departure--The Ugly
Greek Interpreter--Mode of securing his Fidelity 327
CHAPTER XXIII.
Coom Calessi--Uncomfortable Quarters--A Turkish Boat and its
Crew--Grandeur of the Scenery--Legend of Jason and the
Golden Fleece--The Island of Imbros--Heavy Rain Storm--A
Rough Sea--Lemnos--Bad Accommodation--The Old
Woman's Mattress and its Contents--Striking View of Mount
Athos from the Sea--The Hermit of the Tower 342
CHAPTER XXIV.
Monastery of St. Laura--Kind Reception by the Abbot--Astonishment
of the Monks--History of the Monastery--Rules of
the Order of St. Basil--Description of the Buildings--Curious
Pictures of the Last Judgment--Early Greek Paintings; Richness
of their Frames and Decorations--Ancient Church Plate--Beautiful
Reliquary--The Refectory--The Abbot's Savoury
Dish--The Library--The MSS.--Ride to the Monastery of
Caracalla--Magnificent Scenery 356
CHAPTER XXV.
The Monastery of Caracalla--Its beautiful Situation--Hospitable
Reception--Description of the Monastery--Legend of its Foundation--The
Church--Fine Specimens of Ancient Jewellery--The
Library--The Value attached to the Books by the Abbot--He
agrees to sell some of the MSS.--Monastery of Philotheo--The
Great Monastery of Iveron--History of its Foundation--Its
magnificent Library--Ignorance of the Monks--Superb MSS.--The
Monks refuse to part with any of the MSS.--Beauty of the
Scenery of Mount Athos 377
CHAPTER XXVI.
The Monastery of Stavroniketa--The Library--Splendid MS. of
St. Chrysostom--The Monastery of Pantocratoras--Ruinous Condition
of the Library--Complete Destruction of the Books--Disappointment--Oration
to the Monks--The Great Monastery
of Vatopede--Its History--Ancient Pictures in the Church--Legend
of the Girdle of the Blessed Virgin--The Library--Wealth
and Luxury of the Monks--The Monastery of Sphigmenou--Beautiful
Jewelled Cross--The Monastery of Kiliantari--Magnificent
MS. in Gold Letters on White Vellum--The Monasteries
of Zographou, Castamoneta, Docheirou, and Xenophou--The
Exiled Bishops--The Library--Very fine MSS.--Proposals
for their Purchase--Lengthened Negotiations--Their successful
Issue 391
CHAPTER XXVII.
The Monastery of Russico--Its Courteous Abbot--The Monastery
of Xeropotamo--Its History--High Character of its Abbot--Excursion
to the Monasteries of St. Nicholas and St. Dionisius--Interesting
Relics--Magnificent Shrine--The Library--The
Monastery of St. Paul--Respect shown by the Monks--Beautiful
MS.--Extraordinary Liberality and Kindness of the Abbot and
Monks--A valuable Acquisition at little Cost--The Monastery
of Simopetra--Purchase of MS.--The Monk of Xeropotamo--His
Ideas about Women--Excursion to Cariez--The Monastery
of Coutloumoussi--The Russian Book-Stealer--History of the
Monastery--Its reputed Destruction by the Pope of Rome--The
Aga of Cariez--Interview in a Kiosk--The She Cat of Mount
Athos 413
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Caracalla--The Agoumenos--Curious Cross--The Nuts of Caracalla--Singular
Mode of preparing a Dinner Table--Departure
from Mount Athos--Packing of the MSS.--Difficulties of the
Way--Voyage to the Dardanelles--Apprehended Attack from
Pirates--Return to Constantinople 436
FOOTNOTES
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
The costumes are from drawings made at Constantinople by a Maltese
artist. They are all portraits, and represent the costumes worn at
the present day in different parts of the Turkish Empire. The
others are from drawings and sketches by the Author, except one
from a beautiful drawing by Lord Eastnor, for which the Author begs
to express his thanks and obligations.
THE MONASTERY OF METEORA, FROM THE MONASTERY
OF BARLAAM. FROM A DRAWING BY
VISCOUNT EASTNOR _FRONTISPIECE_
INTERIOR OF THE COURT OF A GREEK MONASTER _Title Vignette_
KOORD, OR NATIVE OF KOORDISTAN _To face page_ xxix.
NEGRESS WAITING TO BE SOLD " 5
BEDOUIN ARAB " 7
EGYPTIAN IN THE NIZAM DRESS " 49
INTERIOR OF AN ABYSSINIAN LIBRARY " 97
MENDICANT DERVISH " 139
PLAN OF THE CHURCH OF THE HOLY SEPULCHRE,
JERUSALEM " 165
THE MONASTERY OF ST. BARLAAM " 235
TATAR, OR GOVERNMENT MESSENGER " 237
TURKISH COMMON SOLDIER " 251
THE N.W. VIEW OF THE PROMONTORY OF MOUNT ATHOS _To face Part IV., p._ 327
GREEK SAILOR _To face p._ 351
THE MONASTERY OF SIMOPETRA " 426
CIRCASSIAN LADY " 429
TURKISH LADY IN THE YASHMAK OR VEIL " 434
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
A more enlarged account of the Monasteries of the Levant would, I think,
be interesting for many reasons if the task was undertaken by some one
much more competent than myself to do justice to so curious a subject.
In these monasteries resided the early fathers of the Church, and within
the precincts of their time-hallowed walls were composed those writings
which have since been looked up to as the rules of Christian life: from
thence also were promulgated the doctrines of the Heresiarchs, which, in
the early ages of the Church, were the causes of so much dissension and
confusion, rancour and persecution, in the disastrous days of the
decline and fall of the Roman empire.
The monasteries of the East are besides particularly interesting to the
lovers of the picturesque, from the beautiful situations in which they
are almost invariably placed. The monastery of Megaspelion, on the coast
of the Gulf of Corinth, is built in the mouth of an enormous cave. The
monasteries of Meteora, and some of those on Mount Athos, are remarkable
for their positions on the tops of inaccessible rocks; many of the
convents in Syria, the islands of Cyprus, Candia, the Archipelago, and
the Prince's Islands in the Sea of Marmora, are unrivalled for the
beauty of the positions in which they stand; many others in Bulgaria,
Asia Minor, Sinope, and other places on the shores of the Black Sea, are
most curious monuments of ancient and romantic times. There is one on
the road to Persia, about one day's journey inland from Trebizond, which
is built half way up the side of a perpendicular precipice; it is
ensconced in several fissures of the rock, and various little gardens
adjoining the buildings display the industry of the monks; these are
laid out on shelves or terraces wherever the nature of the spot affords
a ledge of sufficient width to support the soil; the different parts of
the monastery are approached by stairs and flights of steps cut in the
face of the precipice, leading from one cranny to another; the whole has
the appearance of a bas-relief stuck against a wall; this monastery
partakes of the nature of a large swallow's nest. But it is for their
architecture that the monasteries of the Levant are more particularly
deserving of study; for, after the remains of the private houses of the
Romans at Pompeii, they are the most ancient specimens extant of
domestic architecture. The refectories, kitchens, and the cells of the
monks exceed in point of antiquity anything of the kind in Europe. The
monastery of St. Katherine at Mount Sinai has hardly been altered since
the sixth century, and still contains ornaments presented to it by the
Emperor Justinian. The White Monastery and the monastery at Old Cairo,
both in Egypt, are still more ancient. The monastery of Kuzzul Vank,
near the sources of the Euphrates, is, I believe, as old as the fifth
century. The greater number in all the countries where the Greek faith
prevails, were built before the year 1000. Most monasteries possess
crosses, candlesticks, and reliquaries, many of splendid workmanship,
and of the era of the foundation of the buildings which contain them,
while their mosaics and fresco paintings display the state of the arts
from the most early periods.
It has struck me as remarkable that the architecture of the churches in
these most ancient monasteries is hardly ever fine; they are usually
small, being calculated only for the monks, and not for the reception of
any other congregation. The Greek churches, even those which are not
monastic, are far inferior both in size and interest to the Latin
basilicas of Rome. With the single exception of the church (now mosque)
of St. Sophia, there is no Byzantine church of any magnitude. The
student of ecclesiastical antiquities need not extend his architectural
researches beyond the shores of Italy: there is nothing in the East so
curious as the church of St. Clemente at Rome, which contains all the
original fittings of the choir. The churches of St. Ambrogio at Milan,
of Sta. Maria Trastevere at Rome, the first church dedicated to the
Blessed Virgin; the church of St. Agnese near Rome, the first in which
galleries were built over the side aisles for the accommodation of
women, who, neither in the Eastern nor Western churches, ever mixed with
the men for many centuries; all these and several others in Italy afford
more instruction than those of the East--they are larger, more
magnificent, and in every respect superior to the ecclesiastical
buildings of the Levant. But the poverty of the Eastern church, and its
early subjection to Mahometan rulers, while it has kept down the size
and splendour of the churches, has at the same time been the means of
preserving the monastic establishments in all the rude originality of
their ancient forms. In ordinary situations these buildings are of the
same character: they resemble small villages, built mostly without much
regard to any symmetrical plan, around a church which is constructed in
the form of a Greek cross; the roof is covered either with one or five
domes; all these buildings are surrounded by a high, strong wall, built
as a fortification to protect the brotherhood within, not without
reason, even in the present day. I have been quietly dining in a
monastery, when shouts have been heard, and shots have been fired
against the stout bulwarks of the outer walls, which, thanks to their
protection, had but little effect in delaying the transit of the morsel
between my fingers into the ready gulf provided by nature for its
reception. The monks of the Greek Church have diminished in number and
wealth of late years, their monasteries are no longer the schools of
learning which they used to be; few can read the Hellenic or ancient
Greek; and the following anecdote will suffice to show the estimation in
which a conventual library has not unusually been held. A Russian, or I
do not know whether he was not a French traveller, in the pursuit, as I
was, of ancient literary treasures, found himself in a great monastery
in Bulgaria to the north of the town of Cavalla; he had heard that the
books preserved in this remote building were remarkable for their
antiquity, and for the subjects on which they treated. His dismay and
disappointment may be imagined when he was assured by the agoumenos or
superior of the monastery, that it contained no library whatever, that
they had nothing but the liturgies and church books, and no palaia
pragmata or antiquities at all. The poor man had bumped upon a
pack-saddle over villainous roads for many days for no other object, and
the library of which he was in search had vanished as the visions of a
dream. The agoumenos begged his guest to enter with the monks into the
choir, where the almost continual church service was going on, and there
he saw the double row of long-bearded holy fathers, shouting away at the
chorus of κυριε ελεισον, χριστε ελεισον (pronounced Kyre eleizon,
Christe eleizon), which occurs almost every minute, in the ritual of
the Greek Church. Each of the monks was standing, to save his bare legs
from the damp of the marble floor, upon a great folio volume, which had
been removed from the conventual library and applied to purposes of
practical utility in the way which I have described. The traveller on
examining these ponderous tomes found them to be of the greatest value;
one was in uncial letters, and others were full of illuminations of the
earliest date; all these he was allowed to carry away in exchange for
some footstools or hassocks, which he presented in their stead to the
old monks; they were comfortably covered with ketché or felt, and were
in many respects more convenient to the inhabitants of the monastery
than the manuscripts had been, for many of their antique bindings were
ornamented with bosses and nail heads, which inconvenienced the toes of
the unsophisticated congregation who stood upon them without shoes for
so many hours in the day. I must add that the lower halves of the
manuscripts were imperfect, from the damp of the floor of the church
having corroded and eat away their vellum leaves, and also that, as the
story is not my own, I cannot vouch for the truth of it, though, whether
it is true or not, it elucidates the present state of the literary
attainments of the Oriental monks. Ignorance and superstition walk hand
in hand, and the monks of the Eastern churches seem to retain in these
days all the love for the marvellous which distinguished their Western
brethren in the middle ages. Miraculous pictures abound, as well as holy
springs and wells. Relics still perform wonderful cures. I will only as
an illustration to this statement mention one of the standing objects of
veneration which may be witnessed any day in the vicinity of the castle
of the Seven Towers, outside of the walls of Constantinople: there a
rich monastery stands in a lovely grove of trees, under whose shade
numerous parties of merry Greeks often pass the day, dividing their time
between drinking, dancing, and devotion.
The unfortunate Emperor Constantine Paleologus rode out of the city
alone to reconnoitre the outposts of the Turkish army, which was
encamped in the immediate vicinity. In passing through a wood he found
an old man seated by the side of a spring cooking some fish on a
gridiron for his dinner; the emperor dismounted from his white horse and
entered into conversation with the other; the old man looked up at the
stranger in silence, when the emperor inquired whether he had heard
anything of the movements of the Turkish forces--"Yes," said he, "they
have this moment entered the city of Constantinople." "I would believe
what you say," replied the emperor, "if the fish which you are broiling
would jump off the gridiron into the spring." This, to his amazement,
the fish immediately did, and, on his turning round, the figure of the
old man had disappeared. The emperor mounted his horse and rode towards
the gate of Silivria, where he was encountered by a band of the enemy
and slain, after a brave resistance, by the hand of an Arab or a Negro.
The broiled fishes still swim about in the water of the spring, the
sides of which have been lined with white marble, in which are certain
recesses where they can retire when they do not wish to receive company.
The only way of turning the attention of these holy fish to the
respectful presence of their adorers is accomplished by throwing
something glittering into the water, such as a handful of gold or silver
coin; gold is the best, copper produces no effect; he that sees one fish
is lucky, he that sees two or three goes home a happy man; but the
custom of throwing coins into the spring has become, from its constant
practice, very troublesome to the good monks, who kindly depute one of
their community to rake out the money six or seven times a day with a
scraper at the end of a long pole. The emperor of Russia has sent
presents to the shrine of Baloukli, so called from the Turkish word
Balouk, a fish. Some wicked heretics have said that these fishes are
common perch: either they or the monks must be mistaken, but of whatever
kind they are, they are looked upon with reverence by the Greeks, and
have been continually held in the highest honour from the time of the
siege of Constantinople to the present day.
I have hitherto noticed those monasteries only which are under the
spiritual jurisdiction of the Patriarch of Constantinople, but those of
the Copts of Egypt and the Maronites of Syria resemble them in almost
every particular. As it has never been the custom of the Oriental
Christians to bury the dead within the precincts of the church, they
none of them contain sepulchral monuments. The bodies of the Byzantine
emperors were enclosed in sarcophagi of precious marbles, which were
usually deposited in chapels erected for the purpose--a custom which has
been imitated by the sultans of Turkey. Of all these magnificent
sarcophagi and chapels or mausoleums where the remains of the imperial
families were deposited, only one remains intact; every one but this has
been violated, destroyed, or carried away; the ashes of the Cæsars have
been scattered to the winds. This is now known by the name of the chapel
of St. Nazario e Celso, at Ravenna: it was built by Galla Placidia, the
daughter of Theodosius; she died at Rome in 440, but her body was
removed to Ravenna and deposited in a sarcophagus in this chapel; in the
same place are two other sarcophagi, one containing the remains of
Constantius, the second husband of Galla Placidia, and the other holding
the body of her son Valentinian III. These tombs have never been
disturbed, and are the only ones which remain intact of the entire line
of the Cæsars, either of the Eastern or Western empires.
The tombstones or monuments of the Armenians deserve to be mentioned on
account of their singularity. They are usually oblong pieces of marble
lying flat upon the ground; on these are sculptured representations of
the implements of the trade at which the deceased had worked during his
lifetime; some display the manner in which the Armenian met his death.
In the Petit Champ des Morts at Pera I counted, I think, five tombstones
with bas-reliefs of men whose heads had been cut off. In Armenia the
traveller is often startled by the appearance of a gigantic stone figure
of a ram, far away from any present habitation: this is the tomb of some
ancient possessor of flocks and herds whose house and village have
disappeared, and nothing but his tomb remains to mark the site which
once was the abode of men.
[Illustration: KOORD, OR NATIVE OF KOORDISTAUN.]
The Armenian monasteries, with the exception of that of Etchmiazin and
one or two others, are much smaller buildings than those of the Greeks;
they are constructed after the same model, however, being surrounded
with a high blank wall. Their churches are seldom surmounted by a dome,
but are usually in the form of a small barn, with a high pitched roof,
built like the walls of large squared stones. At one end of the church
is a small door, and at the other end a semicircular apsis; the windows
are small apertures like loop-holes. These buildings, though of
very small size, have an imposing appearance from their air of
massive strength. The cells of the Armenian monks look into the
courtyard, which is a remarkable fact in that country, where the rest of
the inhabitants dwell in burrows underground like rabbits, and keep
themselves alive during the long winters of their rigorous climate by
the warmth proceeding from the cattle with whom they live, for fire is
dear in a land too cold for trees to grow. The monasteries of the
various sects of Christians who inhabit the mountains of Koordistaun are
very numerous, and all more or less alike. Perched on the tops of crags,
in these wild regions are to be seen the monastic fastnesses of the
Chaldeans, who of late have been known by the name of Nestorians, the
seat of whose patriarchate is at Julamerk. They have now been almost
exterminated by Beder Khan Bey, a Koordish chief, in revenge for the
cattle which they were alleged to have stolen from the Koordish villages
in their vicinity. The Jacobites, the Sabæans, and the Christians of St.
John, who inhabit the banks of the Euphrates in the districts of the
ancient Susiana, all have fortified monasteries which are mostly of
great antiquity. From Mount Ararat to Bagdat, the different sects of
Christians still retain the faith of the Redeemer, whom they have
worshipped according to their various forms, some of them for more than
fifteen hundred years; the plague, the famine, and the sword have
passed over them and left them still unscathed, and there is little
doubt but that they will maintain the position which they have held so
long till the now not far distant period arrives when the conquered
empire of the Greeks will again be brought under the dominion of a
Christian emperor.
MONASTERIES OF THE LEVANT.
PART I.
EGYPT IN 1833.
CHAPTER I.
Navarino--The Wrecks of the Turkish and Egyptian
Fleets--Alexandria--An Arab Pilot--Intense Heat--Scene from the
Hotel Windows--The Water-Carriers--A Procession--A Bridal
Party--Violent mode of clearing the Road--Submissive Behaviour of
the People--Astonishing Number of Donkeys--Bedouin Arabs; their
wild and savage appearance--Early Hours--Visit to the Pasha's Prime
Minister, Boghos Bey; hospitable reception--Kawasses and Chaoushes;
their functions and powers--The Yassakjis--The Minister's Audience
Chamber--Walmas; anecdote of his saving the life of Boghos Bey.
It was towards the end of July, 1833, that I took a passage from Malta
to Alexandria in a merchant-vessel called the _Fortuna_; for in those
days there were no steam-packets traversing every sea, with almost the
same rapidity and accuracy as railway carriages on shore. We touched on
our way at Navarino to sell some potatoes to the splendidly-dressed, and
half-starved population of the Morea, numbers of whom we found lounging
about in a temporary wooden bazaar, where there was nothing to sell. In
various parts of the harbour the wrecks of the Turkish and Egyptian
ships of war, stripped of their outer coverings, and looking like the
gigantic skeletons of antediluvian animals, gave awful evidence of the
destruction which had taken place not very long before in the battle
between the Christian and Mahomedan fleets in this calm, land-locked
harbour.
On the 31st we found ourselves approaching the castle of Alexandria, and
were soon hailed by some people in a curious-looking pilot-boat with a
lateen sail. The pilot was an old man with a turban and a long grey
beard, and sat cross-legged in the stern of his boat. We looked at him
with vast interest, as the first live specimen we had seen of an Arab
sailor. He was just the sort of man that I imagine Sindbad the Sailor
must have been.
Having by his directions been steered safely into the harbour, we cast
anchor not far from the shore, a naked, dusty plain, which the blazing
sun seemed to dare any one to cross, on pain of being shrivelled up
immediately. The intensity of the heat was tremendous: the tar melted in
the seams of the deck: we could scarcely bear it even when we were under
the awning. Malta was hot enough, but the temperature there was cool in
comparison to the fiery furnace in which we were at present grilling.
However, there was no help for it; so, having got our luggage on shore,
we sweltered through the streets to an inn called the Tre Anchore--the
only hotel in Africa, I believe, in those days. It was a dismal little
place, frequented by the captains of merchant-vessels, who, not being
hot enough already, raised the temperature of their blood by drinking
brandy-and-water, arrack, and other combustibles, in a dark, oven-like
room below stairs.
We took possession of all the rooms upstairs, of which the principal one
was long and narrow, with two windows at the end, opening on to a
covered balcony or verandah: this overlooked the principal street and
the bazaar. Here my companion and I soon stationed ourselves and watched
the novel and curious scene below; and strange indeed to the eye of an
European, when for the first time he enters an Oriental city, is all he
sees around him. The picturesque dresses, the buildings, the palm-trees,
the camels, the people of various nations, with their long beards, their
arms, and turbans, all unite to form a picture which is indelibly fixed
in the memory. Things which have since become perfectly familiar to us
were then utterly incomprehensible, and we had no one to explain them to
us, for the one waiter of the poor inn, who was darting about in his
shirt-sleeves after the manner of all waiters, never extended his
answers to our questions beyond "Si, Signore," so we got but little
information from him; however, we did not make use of our eyes the less
for that.
[Illustration: NEGRESS WAITING TO BE SOLD IN THE SLAVE BAZAAR, CAIRO]
Among the first things we noticed, was the number of half-naked men who
went running about, each with something like a dead pig under his arm,
shouting out "Mother! mother!"[1] with a doleful voice. These were the
sakis or water-carriers, with their goat-skins of the precious element,
a bright brass cupful of which they sell for a small coin to the thirsty
passengers. An old man with a fan in his hand made of a palm-branch, who
was crumpled up in the corner of a sort of booth among a heap of dried
figs, raisins, and dates, just opposite our window, was an object of
much speculation to us how he got in, and how he would ever manage to
get out of the niche into which he was so closely wedged. He was the
merchant, as the Arabian Nights would call him, or the shopkeeper as we
should say, who sat there cross-legged among his wares waiting patiently
for a customer, and keeping off the flies in the meanwhile, as in due
time we discovered that all merchants did in all countries of the East.
Soon there came slowly by, a long procession of men on horseback with
golden bridles and velvet trappings, and women muffled up in black silk
wrappers; how they could bear them, hot as it was, astonished us. These
ladies sat upon a pile of cushions placed so high above the backs of the
donkeys on which they rode that their feet rested on the animal's
shoulders. Each donkey was led by one man, while another walked by its
side with his hand upon the crupper. With the ladies were two little
boys covered with diamonds, mounted on huge fat horses, and
ensconced in high-backed Mameluke saddles made of silver gilt. These
boys we afterwards found out were being conducted in state to a house of
their relations, where the rite of circumcision was to be performed. Our
attention was next called to something like a four-post bed, with pink
gauze curtains, which advanced with dignified slowness, preceded by a
band of musicians, who raised a dire and fearful discord by the aid of
various windy engines. This was a canopy, the four poles of which were
supported by men, who held it over the heads of a bride and her two
bridesmaids or friends, who walked on each side of her. The bride was
not veiled in the usual way, as her friends were, but was muffled up in
Cashmere shawls from head to foot. Something there was on the top of her
head which gleamed like gold or jewels, but the rest of her person was
so effectually wrapped up and concealed that no one could tell whether
she was pretty or ugly, fat or thin, old or young; and although we gave
her credit for all the charms which should adorn a bride, we rejoiced
when the villainous band of music which accompanied her turned round a
corner and went out of hearing.
Some miserable-looking black slaves caught our attention, clothed each
in a piece of Isabel-coloured canvas and led by a well-dressed man, who
had probably just bought them. Then a great personage came by on
horseback with a number of mounted attendants and some men on foot, who
cleared the way before him, and struck everybody on the head with their
sticks who did not get out of the way fast enough. These blows were
dealt all round in the most unceremonious manner; but what appeared to
us extraordinary was, that all these beaten people did not seem to care
for being beat. They looked neither angry nor affronted, but only
grinned and rubbed their shoulders, and moved on one side to let the
train of the great man pass by. Now if this were done in London, what a
ferment would it create! what speeches would be made about tyranny and
oppression! what a capital thing some high-minded and independent
patriot would make of it! how he would call a meeting to defend the
rights of the subject! and how he would get his admirers to vote him a
piece of plate for his noble and glorious exertions! Here nobody minded
the thing; they took no heed of the indignity; and I verily believe my
friend and I, who were safe up at the window, were the only persons in
the place who felt any annoyance.
The prodigious multitude of donkeys formed another strange feature in
the scene. There were hundreds of them, carrying all sorts of things in
panniers; and some of the smallest were ridden by men so tall that they
were obliged to hold up their legs that their feet might not touch the
ground. Donkeys, in short, are the carts of Egypt and the
hackney-coaches of Alexandria.
[Illustration: BEDOUIN ARAB.]
In addition to the donkeys long strings of ungainly-looking camels were
continually passing, generally preceded by a donkey, and accompanied by
swarthy men clad in a short shirt with a red and yellow handkerchief
tied in a peculiar way over their heads, and wearing sandals; these
savage-looking people were Bedouins, or Arabs of the desert. A very
truculent set they seemed to be, and all of them were armed with a long
crooked knife and a pistol or two, stuck in a red leathern girdle. They
were thin, gaunt, and dirty, and strode along looking fierce and
independent. There was something very striking in the appearance of
these untamed Arabs: I had never pictured to myself that anything so
like a wild beast could exist in human form. The motions of their
half-naked bodies were singularly free and light, and they looked as if
they could climb, and run, and leap over anything. The appearance of
many of the older Arabs, with their long white beard and their ample
cloak of camel's hair, called an abba, is majestic and venerable. It was
the first time that I had seen these "Children of the Desert," and the
quickness of their eyes, their apparent freedom from all restraint, and
their disregard of any conventional manners, struck me forcibly. An
English gentleman in a round hat and a tight neck-handkerchief and
boots, with white gloves and a little cane in his hand, was a style of
man so utterly and entirely unlike a Bedouin Arab that I could hardly
conceive the possibility of their being only different species of the
same animal.
After we had dined, being tired with the heat and the trouble we had had
in getting our luggage out of the ship, I resolved to retire to bed at
an early hour, and on going to the window to have another look at the
crowd, I was surprised to find that there was scarcely anybody left in
the streets, for these primitive people all go to bed when it gets dark,
as the birds do; and except a few persons walking home with paper
lanterns in their hands, the place seemed almost entirely deserted.
The next morning, mounted on donkeys, we shambled across half the city
to the residence of Boghos Bey, the Armenian prime minister of Mohammed
Ali Pasha; we were received with great kindness and civility, and as at
this time there had been but very few European travellers in Egypt, we
were treated with distinguished hospitality. The Bey said that although
the Pasha was then in Upper Egypt, he would take care that we should
have every facility in seeing all the objects of interest, and that he
would write to Habeeb Effendi, the Governor of Cairo, to acquaint him of
our arrival, and direct him to let us have the use of the Pasha's
horses, that kawasses should attend us, and that the Pasha would give us
a firman, which would ensure our being well treated throughout the whole
of his dominions.
As a kawass is a person mentioned by all Oriental travellers, it may be
as well to state that he is a sort of armed servant or body-guard
belonging to the government; he bears as his badge of office a thick
cane about four feet long, with a large silver head, with which
instrument he occasionally enforces his commands and supports his
authority as well as his person. Ambassadors, consuls, and occasionally
travellers, are attended by kawasses. Their presence shows that the
person they accompany is protected by the State, and their number
indicates his dignity and rank. Formerly these kawasses were splendidly
attired in embroidered dresses, and their arms and the accoutrements of
their horses were of silver gilt: the ambassador at Constantinople has,
I think, six of these attendants. Of late years their picturesque
costume has been changed to a uniform frock-coat of European make, of a
whity-brown colour.
[Illustration: Silver head of staff.]
There is a higher grade of officer of the same description, who is only
to be met with at Court, and whose functions are nearly the same as
those of a chamberlain with us. He is called a chaoush. His official
staff is surmounted by a silver head, formed like a Greek bishop's
staff, from the two horns of which several little round bells are
suspended by a silver chain. The chaoush is a personage of great
authority in certain things; he is a kind of living firman, before whom
every one makes way. As I was desirous of seeing the shrine of the heads
of Hassan and Hussein in the mosque of Hassan En, a place of peculiar
sanctity at Cairo, into which no Christian had been admitted, the Pasha
sent a chaoush with me, who concealed the head of his staff in his
clothes, to be ready, in case it had been discovered that I was not a
Mahomedan, to protect me from the fury of the devotees, who would
probably have torn to pieces any unbeliever who intruded into the temple
of the sons of Ali.
Besides these two officers, the chaoush and kawass, there is another
attendant upon public men, who is of inferior rank, and is called a
yassakji, or forbidder; he looks like a dirty kawass, and has a stick,
but without the silver knob. He is generally employed to carry messages,
and push people out of the way, to make a passage for you through a
crowd; but this kind of functionary is more frequently seen at
Constantinople and the northern parts of Turkey than in Egypt.
We found Boghos Bey in a large upper room, seated on a divan with two or
three persons to whom he was speaking, while the lower end of the room
was occupied by a crowd of chaoushes, kawasses, and hangers-on of all
descriptions. We were served with coffee, pipes, and sherbet, and were
entertained during the pauses of the conversation by the ticking and
chiming of half a dozen clocks which stood about the room, some on the
floor, some on the side-tables, and some stuck on brackets against the
wall.
One of the persons seated near the prime minister was a shrewd-looking
man with one eye, of whom I was afterwards told the following anecdote.
His name was Walmas; he had been an Armenian merchant, and was an old
acquaintance of Mohammed Ali and of Boghos, before they had either of
them risen to their present importance. Soon after the massacre of the
Mamelukes, Mohammed Ali desired Boghos to procure him a large sum of
money by a certain day, which Boghos declared was impossible at so short
a notice. The Pasha, angry at being thwarted, swore that if he had not
the money by the day he had named, he would have Boghos drowned in the
Nile. The affrighted minister made every effort to collect the requisite
sum, but when the day arrived much was wanting to complete it. Boghos
stood before the Pasha, who immediately exclaimed, "Well! where is the
money?" "Sir," replied Boghos, "I have not been able to get it all! I
have procured all this, but, though I strained every nerve, and took
every measure in my power, it was impossible to obtain the remainder."
"What," exclaimed the Pasha, "you dog, have you not obeyed my commands?
What is the use of a minister who cannot produce all the money wanted by
his sovereign, at however short a notice? Here, put this unbeliever in
a sack, and fling him into the Nile." This scene occurred in the citadel
at Cairo; and an officer and some men immediately put him into a sack,
threw it across a donkey, and proceeded to the Nile. As they were
passing through the city, they were met by Walmas, who was attended by
several servants, and who, seeing something moving in the sack which was
laid across the donkey, asked the guards what they had got there. "Oh!"
said the officer, "we have got Boghos, the Armenian, and we are going to
throw him into the Nile, by his Highness the Pasha's order." "What has
he done?" asked Walmas. "What do we know?" replied the officer;
"something about money, I believe: no great thing, but his Highness has
been in a bad humour lately. He will be sorry for it afterwards.
However, we have our orders, and, therefore, please God, we are going to
pitch him into the Nile." Walmas determined to rescue his old friend,
and, assisted by his servants, immediately attacked the guard, who made
little more than a show of resistance. Boghos was carried off, and
concealed in a safe place, and the guards returned to the citadel and
reported that they had pitched Boghos into the Nile, where he had sunk,
as all should do who disobeyed the commands of his Highness. Some time
afterwards, the Pasha, overcome by financial difficulties, was heard to
say that he wished Boghos was still alive. Walmas, who was present,
after some preliminary conversation (for the ground was rather
dangerous), said that if his own pardon was insured, he could mention
something respecting Boghos which he was sure would be agreeable to his
Highness: and at last he owned that he had rescued him from the guards
and had kept him concealed in his house in hopes of being allowed to
restore so valuable a servant to his master. The Pasha was delighted at
the news, instantly reinstated Boghos in all his former honours, and
Walmas himself stood higher than ever in his favour; but the guards were
executed for disobedience. Ever since that time Boghos Bey has continued
to be the principal minister and most confidential adviser of Mohammed
Ali Pasha.
CHAPTER II.
Rapacity of the Dragomans--The Mahmoudieh Canal--The Nile at
Atfeh--The muddy Waters of the Nile--Richness of the Soil--Accident
to the Boatmen--Night Sailing--A Collision--A Vessel run
down--Escape of the Crew--Solemn Investigation--Final
Judgment--Curious Mode of Fishing--Tameness of the Birds--Jewish
Malefactors--Moving Pillar of Sand--Arrival at Cairo--Hospitable
Reception by the Consul-General.
So long as there were no hotels in Egypt, the process of fleecing the
unwary traveller was conducted on different principles from those
followed in Europe. As he seldom understands the language, he requires
an interpreter, or dragoman, who, as a matter of course, manages all his
pecuniary affairs. The newly-arrived European eats and drinks whatever
his dragoman chooses to give him; sees through his dragoman's eyes;
hears through his ears; and, although he thinks himself master, is, in
fact, only a part of the property of this Eastern servant, to be used by
him as he thinks fit, and turned to the best account like any other real
or personal estate.
On our landing at Alexandria, my friend and I found ourselves in the
same predicament as our predecessors, and straightway fell into the
hands of these Philistines, two of whom we hired as interpreters. They
were also to act as ciceroni, and were warranted to know all about the
antiquities, and everything else in Egypt; they were to buy everything
we wanted, to spend our money, and to allow no one to cheat us except
themselves. One of these worthies was sent to engage a boat, to carry us
down the Mahmoudieh Canal to Atfeh, where the canal is separated from
the river by flood-gates, in consequence of which impediment we could
not proceed in the same boat, but had to hire a larger one to take us on
to Cairo.
The banks of the canal being high, we had no view of the country as we
passed along; but on various occasions when I ascended to the top of the
bank, while the men who towed the boat rested from their labours, I saw
nothing but great sandy flats interspersed with large pools of stagnant,
muddy water. This prospect not being very charming, we were glad to
arrive the next day on the shores of the Father of Rivers, whose swollen
stream, although at Atfeh not more than half a mile in width, rolled by
towards the north in eddies and whirlpools of smooth muddy water, in
colour closely resembling a sea of mutton-broth.
In my enthusiasm on arriving on the margin of this venerable river, I
knelt down to drink some of it, and was disappointed in finding it by no
means so good as I had always been told it was. On complaining of its
muddy taste, I found that no one drank the water of the Nile till it had
stood a day or two in a large earthen jar, the inside of which is
rubbed with a paste of bitter almonds. This causes all impurities to be
precipitated, and the water, thus treated, becomes the lightest,
clearest, and most excellent in the world. At Atfeh, after a prodigious
uproar between the men of our two boats, each set claiming to be paid
for transporting the luggage, we set sail upon the Nile, and after
proceeding a short distance, we stopped at a village, or small town, to
buy some fruit. Here the surrounding country, a flat alluvial plain, was
richly cultivated. Water-melons, corn, and all manner of green herbs
flourished luxuriantly; everything looked delightfully fresh and green;
flocks of pigeons were flying about; and multitudes of white spoonbills
and other strange birds were stalking among the herbage, and rising
around us in every direction. The fertility of the land appeared
prodigious, and exceeded anything I had seen before. Numberless boats
were passing on the river, and the general aspect of the scene betokened
the wealth and plenty which would reward the toils of the agriculturist
under any settled form of government. We returned to our boat loaded
with fruit, among which were the Egyptian fig, the prickly pear, dates,
limes, and melons of kinds that were new to us.
Whilst we were discussing the merits of these refreshing productions, a
board, which had been fastened on the outside of the vessel for four or
five men to stand on, as they pushed the boat with poles through the
shallow water, suddenly gave way, and the men fell into the river: they
could, however, all swim like water-rats, and were soon on board again;
when, putting out into the middle of the stream, we set two huge
triangular lateen sails on our low masts, which raked forwards instead
of backwards, and by the help of the wind made our way slowly towards
the south. We slept in a small cabin in the stern of our vessel; this
had a flat top, and formed the resting-place of the steersman, the
captain of the ship, and our servants, who all lay down together on some
carpets; the sailors slept upon the deck. We sailed on steadily all
night; the stars were wonderfully bright; and I looked out upon the
broad river and the flat silent shores, diversified here and there by a
black-looking village of mud huts, surrounded by a grove of palms,
whence the distant baying of the dogs was brought down upon the wind.
Sometimes there was the cry of a wild bird, but soon again the only
sound was the gentle ripple of the water against the sides of our boat.
If the steersman was not asleep, every one else was; but still we glided
on, and nothing occurred to disturb our repose, till the blazing light
of the morning sun recalled us to activity, and all the bustling
preparations for breakfast.
We had sailed on for some time after this important event, and I was
quietly reading in the shade of the cabin, when I was thrown backwards
by the sudden stopping of the vessel, which struck against something
with prodigious force, and screams of distress arose from the water all
around us. On rushing upon deck I found that we had run down another
boat, which had sunk so instantly that nothing was to be seen of it
except the top of the mast, whose red flag was fluttering just above
water, and to which two women were clinging. A few yards astern seven or
eight men were swimming towards the shore, and our steersman having in
his alarm left the rudder to its own devices, our great sails were
swinging and flapping over our heads. There was a cry that our bows were
stove in, and we were sinking; but, fortunately, before this could
happen, the stream had carried us ashore, where we stuck in the mud on a
shoal under a high bank, up which we all soon scrambled, glad to be on
terra firma. The country people came running down to satisfy their
curiosity, and we procured a small boat, which immediately rowed off to
rescue the women who were still clinging to the mast-head of the sunken
vessel, which was one of the kind called a djerm, and was laden with
thirty tons of corn, besides other goods. No one, luckily, was drowned,
though the loss was a serious one to the owners, for there was no chance
of recovering either the vessel or the cargo. Whilst we were looking,
the red flag to which the women had been clinging toppled over sideways,
which completed the entire disappearance of the unfortunate djerm.
Our reis, or captain, now returned to the roof of the cabin, where he
sat down upon a mat, and lighting his pipe, smoked away steadily without
saying a word, while the wet and dripping sailors, as well as the ladies
belonging to the shipwrecked vessel, surrounded him, screaming,
vociferating, and shouting all manner of invectives into his ears; in
which employment they were effectively joined by a number of half-naked
Arabs who had been cultivating the fields hard by. To all this they got
no answer, beyond an occasional ejaculation of "God is great, and
Mohammed is the prophet of God." His pipe was out before the clamour of
the crowd had abated, and then, all of a sudden, he got up and with two
or three others embarked in the little boat for a neighbouring village,
to report the accident to the sheick, who, we were told, would return
with him and inquire into the circumstances of the case.
In about three hours the boat returned with the local authorities, two
old villagers, in long blue shirts and dirty turbans, who took their
seat upon a mat on the bank and smoked away in a serious manner for some
time. Our captain made no more reply to the fresh accusations of the
reassembled multitude than he had done before; but lit another pipe, and
asserted that God was great. At last the two elders made signs that they
intended to speak; and silence being obtained, they, with all due
solemnity, declared that they agreed with the captain that God was
great, and that undoubtedly Mohammed was the prophet of God. All parties
having come to this conclusion, it appeared that there was nothing more
to be said, and we returned to our boat, which the sailors, with the
help of a rough carpenter, had patched up sufficiently to allow us to
sail for a village on the other side of the river.
During the time that we were remaining on the bank I was amused by
watching the manœuvres of some boys, who succeeded in catching a
quantity of small fish in a very original way. They rolled together a
great quantity of tangled weeds and long grass, with one end of which
they swam out into the Nile, and bringing it back towards the shore,
numerous unsuspecting fish were entangled in the mass of weeds, and were
picked out and thrown on the bank by the young fishermen before they had
time to get out of the scrape. In this way the boys secured a very
respectable heap of small fry.
We arrived safely at the village, where we stayed the night; but the
next morning it appeared that the bows of our vessel were so much
damaged that she could not be repaired under a delay of some days.
Indeed, it appeared that we had been fortunate in accomplishing our
passage across the river, for if we had foundered midway, not being able
to swim like the amphibious Egyptians, we should probably have been
drowned. It was, however, a relief to me to think that there were no
crocodiles in this part of the Nile.
The birds at this place appeared to be remarkably tame: some gulls, or
waterfowl, hardly troubled themselves to move out of the way when a boat
passed them; while those in the fields went on searching among the crops
for insects close to the labourers, and without any of the alarm shown
by birds in England.
While we were dawdling about in the neighbourhood of the village, one of
the servants, an old Maltese, discovered a boat with ten or twelve oars,
lying in the vicinity. It belonged to the government, and was conveying
two malefactors to Cairo under the guardianship of a kawass, who on
learning our mishap gave us a passage in his boat, and to our great joy
we bid adieu to our silent captain, and were soon rowing at a great
rate, in a fine new canjah, on the way to Cairo. The two prisoners on
board were Jews: one was taken up for cheating, and the other for using
false weights. They were fastened together by the neck, with a chain
about five feet long. One of the two was very restless; they said he had
a good chance of being hanged; and he was always pulling the other
unfortunate Hebrew about with him by the chain, in a manner which
excited the mirth of the sailors, though it must have been anything but
amusing to the person most concerned.
The next day there was a hot wind, and the thermometer stood at 98° in
the shade. The kawass called our attention to a pillar of sand moving
through the air in the desert to the south-east; it had an extraordinary
appearance, and its effect upon a party travelling over those burning
plains would have been terrific. It was evidently caused by a whirlwind,
and men and camels are sometimes suffocated and overwhelmed when they
are met by these columns of dry, heated sand, which stalk through the
deserts like the evil genii of the storm. I have seen them in other
countries, more particularly in Armenia; but this, which I saw on my
first journey up the Nile, was the only moving pillar which I met with
in Egypt or in any of the surrounding deserts. We passed two men fishing
from a small triangular raft, composed of palm-branches fastened on the
tops of a number of earthen vases. This raft had a remarkably light
appearance; it seemed only just to touch the surface of the water, but
was evidently badly calculated for such rude encounters as the one which
we had lately experienced. Soon afterwards the tops of the great
Pyramids of Giseh caught our admiring gaze, and in the morning of the
12th of August we landed at Boulac, from which a ride of half an hour on
donkeys brought our party to the hospitable mansion of the
Consul-General, who was good enough to receive us in his house until we
could procure quarters for ourselves.
Having arrived at Cairo, a short account of the history of the city may
be interesting to some readers. In the sixth and seventh centuries of
our era this part of Egypt was inhabited principally by Coptic
Christians, whose chief occupation consisted in quarrelling among
themselves on polemical points of divinity and ascetic rule. The deserts
of Nitria and the shores of the Red Sea were peopled with swarms of
monks, some living together in monasteries, some in lavras, or monastic
villages, and multitudes hiding their sanctity in dens and caves, where
they passed their lives in abstract meditation. In the year 638 the
Arabian general Amer ebn el As, with four hundred Arabs (see Wilkinson),
advanced to the confines of Egypt, and after thirty days' siege took
possession of Pelusium, which had been the barrier of the country on the
Syrian side from the earliest periods of the Egyptian monarchy: he
advanced without opposition to the city of Babylon, which occupied the
site of Masr el Ateekeh, or Old Cairo, on the Nile; but the Roman
station, which is now a Coptic monastery, containing a chamber said to
have been occupied by the blessed Virgin, was so strong a fortress that
the invaders were unable to effect an entrance in a siege of seven
months. After this, a reinforcement of four hundred men arriving at
their camp, their courage revived, and the castle of Babylon was taken
by escalade. On the site of the Arabian encampment at Fostat, Amer
founded the first mosque built on Egyptian soil. The town of Babylon
was connected with the island of Rhoda by a bridge of boats, by which a
communication was kept up with the city of Memphis, on the other side of
the Nile. The Copts, whose religious fanaticism occasioned them to hate
their masters, the Greeks of the Eastern Empire, more than the
Mahomedans, welcomed the moment which promised to free them from their
religious adversaries; and the traitor John Mecaukes, governor of
Memphis, persuaded them to conclude a treaty with the invaders, by which
it was stipulated that two dinars of gold should be paid for every
Christian above sixteen years of age, with the exception of old men,
women, and monks. From this time Fostat became the Arabian capital of
Egypt. In the year 879 Sultan Tayloon, or Tooloon, built himself a
palace, to which he added several residences or barracks for his guards,
and the great mosque, which still exists, with pointed arches, between
Fostat and the present citadel of Cairo. It was not, however, till the
year 969 that Goher, the general of El Moez, Sultan of Kairoan, near
Tunis, having invaded Egypt, and completely subdued the country, founded
a new city near the citadel of Qattaeea, which acquired the name of El
Kahira from the following circumstance. The architect having made his
arrangements for laying the first stone of the new wall, waited for the
fortunate moment, which was to be shown by the astrologers pulling a
cord, extending to a considerable distance from the spot. A certain
crow, however, who had not been taken into the council of the wise men,
perched upon the cord, which was shaken by his weight, and the architect
supposing that the appointed signal had been given, commenced his work
accordingly. From this unlucky omen, and the vexation felt by those
concerned, the epithet of Kahira ("the vexatious" or "unlucky") was
added to the name of the city, Masr el Kahira meaning "the unlucky (city
of) Egypt." Kahira in the Italian pronunciation has been softened into
Cairo, by which name this famous city has been known for many centuries
in Europe, though in the East it is usually called Masr only. From this
time the Fatemite caliphs of Africa, who brought the bones of their
ancestors with them from Kairoan, reigned for ten generations over the
land of Egypt. The third in this succession was the Caliph Hakem, who
built a mosque near the Bab el Nassr, and who was the founder of the
sect of the Druses, and, as some say, of the Assassins. In the year 1171
the famous Saladin usurped the throne from the last of the race of
Fatema. His descendant, Moosa el Ashref, was deposed in his turn, in
1250; from which time till the year 1543 Cairo was governed by the
curious succession of Mameluke kings, who were mostly Circassian slaves
brought up at the court of their predecessors, and arriving at the
supreme rule of Egypt by election or intrigue. Toman Bey, the last of
the Mameluke kings, was defeated by Selim, Emperor of the Turks, and
hanged at Cairo, at the Bab Zooaley. But the aristocracy of the
Mamelukes, as it may be called, still remained; and various beys became
governors of Egypt under the Turkish sway, till they were all destroyed
at one blow by Mohammed Ali Pasha, the now all but independent sovereign
of Egypt.
CHAPTER III.
National Topics of Conversation--The Rising of the Nile; evil
effects of its rising too high; still worse consequences of a
deficiency of its waters--The Nilometer--Universal Alarm in August,
1833--The Nile at length rises to the desired Height--Ceremony of
cutting the Embankment--The Canal of the Khalidj--Immense
Assemblage of People--The State Tent--Arrival of Habeeb
Effendi--Splendid Dresses of the Officers--Exertions of the Arab
Workmen--Their Scramble for Paras--Admission of the Water--Its
sudden Irruption--Excitement of the Ladies--Picturesque Effect of
large Assemblies in the East.
In England every one talks about the weather, and all conversation is
opened by exclamations against the heat or the cold, the rain or the
drought; but in Egypt, during one part of the year at least, the rise of
the Nile forms the general topic of conversation. Sometimes the ascent
of the water is unusually rapid, and then nothing is talked of but
inundations; for if the river overflows too much, whole villages are
washed away; and as they are for the most part built of sunburned bricks
and mud, they are completely annihilated; and when the waters subside,
all the boundary marks are obliterated, the course of canals is altered,
and mounds and embankments are washed away. On these occasions the
smaller landholders have great difficulty in recovering their property;
for few of them know how far their fields extend in one direction or
the other, unless a tree, a stone, or something else remains to mark
the separation of one man's flat piece of mud from that of his
neighbour.
But the more frequent and the far more dreaded calamity is the
deficiency of water. This was the case in 1833, and we heard nothing
else talked of. "Has it risen much to-day?" inquires one.--"Yes, it has
risen half a pic since the morning." "What! no more? In the name of the
Prophet! what will become of the cotton?"--"Yes; and the doura will be
burnt up to a certainty if we do not get four pics more." In short, the
Nile has it all its own way; everything depends on the manner in which
it chooses to behave, and El Bahar (the river) is in everybody's mouth
from morning till night. Criers go about the city several times a day
during the period of the rising, who proclaim the exact height to which
the water has arrived, and the precise number of pics which are
submerged on the Nilometer.
This Nilometer is an ancient octagon pillar of red stone in the island
of Rhoda, on the sides of which graduated scales are engraved. It stands
in the centre of a cistern, about twenty-five feet square, and more than
that in depth. A stone staircase leads down to the bottom, and the side
walls are ornamented with Cufic inscriptions beautifully cut. Of this
antique column I have seen more than most people; for on the 28th of
August, 1833, the water was so low that there was the greatest
apprehension of a total failure of the crops, and of the consequent
famine. At that time nine feet more water was wanted to ensure an
average crop; much of the Indian corn had already failed; and from the
Pasha in his palace to the poorest fellah in his mud hovel, all were in
consternation; for in this country, where it never rains, everything
depends on irrigation,--the revenues of the state, the food of the
country, and the life or death of the bulk of the population.
At length the Nile rose to the desired height; and the 6th of September
was fixed for the ceremony of cutting the embankment which keeps back
the water from entering into the canal of the Khalidj. This canal joins
the Nile near the great tower which forms the end of the aqueduct built
by Saladin, and through it the water is conveyed for the irrigation of
Cairo and its vicinity. One peculiarity of this city is, that several of
its principal squares or open spaces are flooded during the inundation;
and, in consequence of this, are called lakes, such as Birket el Fil
(the Lake of the Elephant), Birket el Esbekieh, &c. Many of the
principal houses are built upon the banks of the Khalidj canal, which
passes through the centre of the town, and which now had the appearance
of a dusty, sunken lane; and the annual admission of the water into its
thirsty bed is an event looked forward to as a public holiday by all
classes. Accordingly, early in the morning, men, women, and children
sallied forth to the borders of the Nile, and it seemed as if no one
would be left in the city. The worthy citizens of Cairo, on horses,
mules, donkeys, and on foot, were seen streaming out of the gates, and
making their way in the cool of the morning, all hoping to obtain places
from whence they might catch a glimpse of the cutting of the embankment.
We mounted the horses which the Pasha's grooms brought to our door. They
were splendidly caparisoned with red velvet and gold; horses were also
supplied for all our servants; and we wended our way through happy and
excited crowds to a magnificent tent which had been erected for the
accommodation of the grandees, on a sort of ancient stone quay
immediately over the embankment. We passed through the lines of soldiers
who kept the ground in the vicinity of the tent, around which was
standing a numerous party of officers in their gala uniforms of red and
gold.
On entering the tent we found the Cadi; the son of the sheriff of Mecca,
who I believe was kept as a sort of hostage for the good behaviour of
his father, the Defterdar, or treasurer, and several other high
personages, seated on two carpets, one on each side of a splendid velvet
divan, which extended along that side of the tent which was nearest to
the river, and which was open. Below the tent was the bank which was to
be cut through, with the water of the Nile almost overflowing its brink
on the one side, and the deep dry bed of the canal upon the other; a
number of half-naked Arabs were working with spades and pick-axes to
undermine this bank.
Coffee and sherbet were presented to us while we awaited the arrival of
Habeeb Effendi, who was to superintend the ceremony in the absence of
the Pasha. No one sat upon the divan which was reserved for the
accommodation of the great man, who was _vice_-viceroy on this occasion.
I sat on the carpet by the son of the sheriff of Mecca, who was dressed
in the green robes worn by the descendants of the Prophet. We looked at
each other with some curiosity, and he carefully gathered up the edge of
his sleeve, that it might not be polluted by the touch of such a heathen
dog as he considered me to be.
About 9 A.M. the firing of cannon and volleys of musketry, with the
discordant noise of several military bands, announced the approach of
Habeeb Effendi. He was preceded by an immense procession of beys,
colonels, and officers, all in red and gold, with the diamond insignia
of their rank displayed upon their breasts. This crowd of splendidly
dressed persons, dismounting from their horses, filled the space around
the tent; and, opening into two ranks, they made a lane along which
Habeeb Effendi rode into the middle of the tent; all bowing low and
touching their foreheads as he passed. A horseblock, covered with red
cloth, was brought forward for him to dismount upon. His fat grey horse
was covered with gold, the whole of the housings of the Wahabee saddle
being not embroidered, but so entirely covered with ornaments in
goldsmith's work, that the colour of the velvet beneath could scarcely
be discerned. The great man was held up under each arm by two officers,
who assisted him to the divan, upon which he took his seat, or rather
subsided, for the portly proportions of his person prevented his feet
appearing as he sat cross-legged upon the cushions, with his back to the
canal. Coffee was presented to him, and a diamond-mounted pipe stuck
into his mouth; and he puffed away steadily, looking neither right nor
left, while the uproar of the surrounding crowd increased every moment.
Quantities of rockets and other fireworks were now let off in the broad
daylight, cannons fired, and volleys of musketry filled the air with
smoke. The naked Arabs in the ditch worked like madmen, tearing away the
earth of the embankment, which was rapidly giving way; whilst an officer
of the Treasury threw handfuls of new pieces of five paras each (little
coins of base silver of the value of a farthing) among them. The immense
multitude shouted and swayed about, encouraging the men, who were
excited almost to frenzy.
At last there was a tremendous shout: the bank was beginning to give
way; and showers of coin were thrown down upon it, which the workmen
tried to catch. One man took off his wide Turkish trousers, and
stretching them out upon two sticks caught almost a handful at a time.
By degrees the earth of the embankment became wet, and large pieces of
mud fell over into the canal. Presently a little stream of water made
its way down the declivity, but the Arabs still worked up to their knees
in water. The muddy stream increased, and all of a sudden the whole bank
gave way. Some of the Arabs scrambled out and were helped up the sides
of the canal by the crowd; but several, and among others he of the
trousers, intent upon the shower of paras, were carried away by the
stream. The man struggled manfully in the water, and gallantly kept
possession of his trousers till he was washed ashore, and, with the
assistance of some of his friends, landed safely with his spoils. The
arches of the great aqueduct of Saladin were occupied by parties of
ladies; and long lines of women in their black veils sat like a huge
flock of crows upon the parapets above. They all waved their
handkerchiefs and lifted up their voices in a strange shrill scream as
the torrent increased in force; and soon, carrying everything before it,
it entirely washed away the embankment, and the water in the canal rose
to the level of the Nile.
The desired object having been accomplished, Habeeb Effendi, who had not
once looked round towards the canal, now rose to depart; he was helped
up the steps of the red horse-block, and fairly hoisted into his
saddle; and amidst the roar of cannon and musketry, the shouts of the
people, and the clang of innumerable musical instruments, he departed
with his splendid train of officers and attendants.
Nothing can be conceived more striking than a great assemblage of people
in the East: the various colours of the dresses and the number of white
turbans give it a totally different appearance from that of a black and
dingy European crowd; and it has been well compared by their poets to a
garden of tulips. The numbers collected together on this occasion were
immense; and the narrow streets were completely filled by the returning
multitude, all delighted with the happy termination of the event of the
day; but before noon the whole of the crowd was dispersed, all had
returned to their own houses, and the city was as quiet and orderly as
if nothing extraordinary had occurred.
CHAPTER IV.
Early Hours in the Levant--Compulsory Use of Lanterns in
Cairo--Separation of the different Quarters of the City--Custom of
sleeping in the open air--The Mahomedan Times of Prayer--Impressive
Effect of the Morning Call to Prayer from the Minarets--The last
Prayer-time, Al Assr--Bedouin Mode of ascertaining this
Hour--Ancient Form of the Mosques--The Mosque of Sultan
Hassan--Egyptian Mode of "raising the Supplies"--Sultan Hassan's
Mosque the Scene of frequent Conflicts--The Slaughter of the
Mameluke Beys in the Place of Roumayli--Escape of one Mameluke, and
his subsequent Friendship with Mohammed Ali--The Talisman of
Cairo--Joseph's Well and Hall--Mohammed Ali's Mosque--His Residence
in the Citadel--The Harem--Degraded State of the Women in the East.
The early hours kept in the Levant cannot fail to strike the European
stranger. At Cairo every one is up and about at sunrise; all business is
transacted in the morning, and some of the bezesteins and principal
bazaars are closed at twelve o'clock, at which hour many people retire
to their homes and only appear again in the cool of the evening, when
they take a ride or sit and smoke a pipe and listen to a storyteller in
a coffee-house or under a tree. Soon after sunset the whole city is at
rest. Every one who then has any business abroad is obliged to carry a
small paper lantern, on pain of being taken up by the guard if he is
found without it. Persons of middle rank have a glass lamp carried
before them by a servant, and people of consequence are preceded by men
who run before their train of horses with a fire of resinous wood,
carried aloft on the top of a pole, in an iron grating called a mashlak.
This has a picturesque effect, and throws a great light around.
Each different district of the city is separated from the adjoining one
by strong gates at the end of the streets: these are all closed at
night, and are guarded by a drowsy old man with a long beard, who acts
as porter, and who is roused with difficulty by the promise of a small
coin when any one wants to pass. These gates contribute greatly to the
peace and security of the town; for as the Turks, Arabs, Christians,
Jews, Copts, and other religious sects reside each in a different
quarter, any disturbance which may arise in one district is prevented
from extending to another; and the drunken Europeans cannot intrude
their civilization on their quiet and barbarous neighbours. There are
here no theatres, balls, parties, or other nocturnal assemblies; and
before the hour at which London is well lit up, the gentleman of Cairo
ascends to the top of his house and sleeps upon the terrace, and the
servants retire to the court-yard; for in the hot weather most people
sleep in the open air. Many of the poorer class sleep in the open places
and the courts of the mosques, all wrapping up their heads and faces
that the moon may not shine upon them.
The Mahomedan day begins at sunset, when the first time of prayer is
observed; the second is about two hours after sunset; the third is at
the dawn of day, when the musical chant of the muezzins from the
thousand minarets of Cairo sounds most impressively through the clear
and silent air. The voices of the criers thus raised above the city
always struck me as having a holy and beautiful effect. First one or two
are heard faintly in the distance, then one close to you, then the cry
is taken up from the minarets of other mosques, and at last, from one
end of the town to the other, the measured chant falls pleasingly on the
ear, inviting the faithful to prayer. For a time it seems as if there
was a chorus of voices in the air, like spirits, calling upon each other
to worship the Creator of all things. Soon the sound dies away, there is
a silence for a while, and then commence the hum and bustle of the
awakening city. This cry of man, to call his brother man to prayer,
seems to me more appropriate and more accordant to religious feeling
than the clang and jingle of our European bells.
The fourth and most important time of prayer is at noon, and it is at
this hour that the Sultan attends in state the mosque at Constantinople.
The fifth and last prayer is at about three o'clock. The Bedouins of the
desert, who, however, are not much given to praying, consider this hour
to have arrived when a stick, a spear, or a camel throws a shadow of its
own height upon the ground. This time of the day is called "Al Assr."
When wandering about in the deserts, I used always to eat my dinner or
luncheon at that time, and it is wonderful to what exactness I arrived
at last in my calculations respecting the time of the Assr. I knew to a
minute when my dromedary's shadow was of the right length.
The minarets of Cairo are the most beautiful of any in the Levant;
indeed no others are to be compared to them. Some are of a prodigious
height, built of alternate layers of red and white stone. A curious
anecdote is told of the most ancient of all the minarets, that attached
to the great mosque of Sultan Tayloon, an immense cloister or arcade
surrounding a great square. The arches are all pointed, and are the
earliest extant in that form, the mosque having been built in imitation
of that at Mecca, in the year of the Hegira 265, Anno Domini 879. The
minaret belonging to this magnificent building has a stone staircase
winding round it outside: the reason of its having been built in this
curious form is said to be, that the vizier of Sultan Tayloon found the
king one day lolling on his divan and twisting a piece of paper in a
spiral form; the vizier remarking upon the trivial nature of the
employment of so great a monarch, he replied, "I was thinking that a
minaret in this form would have a good effect: give orders, therefore,
that such a one be added to the mosque which I am building."[2] In
ancient times the mosques consisted merely of large open courts,
surrounded by arcades; and frequently, on that side of the court which
stood nearest to Mecca, this arcade was double. In later times covered
buildings with large domes were added to the court; a style of building
which has always been adopted in more northern climates.
The finest mosque of this description is that of Sultan Hassan, in the
place of the Roumayli, near the citadel. It is a magnificent structure,
of prodigious height; it was finished about the year A.D. 1362. The
money necessary for its construction is said to have been procured by
the following ingenious device. The good Sultan Hassan was determined to
build a mosque and a tomb for himself, but finding a paucity of means in
his treasury, he sent out invitations to all the principal people of the
country to repair to a grand feast at his court, when he said he would
present each of his loving subjects with a robe of honour. On the
appointed day they accordingly all made their appearance, dressed in
their richest robes of state. There was not one but had a Cashmere shawl
round his turban, and another round his waist, with a jewelled dagger
stuck in it; besides other ornaments, and caftans of brocade and cloth
of gold. They entered the place of the Roumayli each accompanied by a
magnificent train of guards and attendants, who, according to the
jealous custom of the times, remained below; while the chiefs, with one
or two of their personal followers only, ascended into the citadel, and
were ushered into the presence of the Sultan. They were received most
graciously: how they contrived to pass their time in the fourteenth
century, before the art of smoking was invented, I do not know, but
doubtless they sat in circles round great bowls of rice, piled over
sheep roasted whole, discussed the merits of lambs stuffed with
pistachio-nuts, and ate cucumbers for dessert. When the feast was
concluded the Sultan announced that each guest at his departure should
receive the promised robe of honour; and as these distinguished
personages, one by one, left the royal presence, they were conducted to
a small chamber near the gate, in which were several armed officers of
the household, who, with expressions of the most profound respect and
solicitude, divested them of their clothes, which they immediately
carried off. The astonished noble was then invested with a long white
shirt, and ceremoniously handed out of an opposite door, which led to
the exterior of the fortress, where he found his train in waiting. The
Sultan kept all that he found worth keeping of the personal effects of
his guests, who were afterwards glad to bargain with the chamberlain of
the court for the restoration of their robes of state, which were
ultimately returned to them--_for a consideration_. The mosque of Sultan
Hassan was built with the proceeds of this original scheme; and the tomb
of the founder is placed in a superb hall, seventy feet square, covered
with a magnificent dome, which is one of the great features of the city.
But he that soweth in the whirlwind shall reap in the storm. In
consequence of the great height and thickness of the walls of this
stately building, as well as from the circumstance of its having only
one great gate of entrance, it was frequently seized and made use of as
a fortress by the insurgents in the numerous rebellions and
insurrections which were always taking place under the rule of the
Mameluke kings. Great stains of blood are still to be seen on the marble
walls of the court-yard, and even in the very chamber of the tomb of the
Sultan there are the indelible marks of the various conflicts which have
taken place, when the guardians of the mosque have been stabbed and cut
down in its most sacred recesses. The two minarets of this mosque, one
of which is much larger than the other, are among the most beautiful
specimens of decorated Saracenic architecture. Of the largest of these
minarets the following story is related. There was a man endued with a
superabundance of curiosity, who, like Peeping Tom of Coventry, had a
fancy for spying at the ladies on the house-tops from the summit of this
minaret: at last he made some signals to one of the neighbouring ladies,
which were unluckily discovered by the master of the house, who happened
to be reposing in the harem. The two muezzins (as they often are) were
blind men, and complaint was made to the authorities that the muezzins
of Sultan Hassan permitted people to ascend the minarets to gaze into
the forbidden precincts of the harems below. The two old muezzins were
indignant when they were informed of this accusation, and were
determined to watch for the intruder and kill him on the spot, the first
time that they should find him ascending the winding staircase of the
minaret. In the course of a few days a good-natured person gave the
alarm, and told the two blind men that somebody had just entered the
doorway on the roof of the mosque by which the minaret is ascended; one
of the muezzins therefore ascended the minaret, armed with a sharp
dagger, and the other waited at the narrow door below to secure the game
whom his companion should drive out of the cover. The young man was
surprised by the muezzin while he was looking over the lower gallery of
the minaret, but escaping from him he ran up the stairs to the upper
gallery: here he was followed by his enemy, who cried to the old man at
the bottom to be ready, for he had found the rascal who had brought
such scandal on the mosque. The muezzin chased the intruder round the
upper gallery, and he slipped through the door and ran down again to the
lower one, where he waited till the muezzin passed him on the stairs,
then taking off his shoes he followed him lightly and silently till he
arrived near the bottom door, when he suddenly pushed the muezzin, who
had been up the minaret, against the one who stood guard below; the two
blind men, each thinking he had got hold of the villain for whom he was
in search, seized each other by the throat and engaged in mortal combat
with their daggers, taking advantage of which the other escaped before
the blind men had found out their mistake. At the next hour of prayer,
their well-known voices not being heard as usual, some of the attendants
at the mosque went up upon the roof to see what had happened, when they
found the muezzins, who were just able to relate the particulars of
their mistake before they died.
It was in the place of the Roumayli that the gallant band of the
Mameluke beys were assembled before they were entrapped and killed by
the present task-master of Egypt, Mohammed Ali Pasha. They ascended a
narrow passage between two high bastions, which led from the lower to
the upper gate. The lower gate was shut after they had passed, and they
were thus caught as in a trap. All of them were shot except one, who
leaped his horse over the battlements and escaped. This man became
afterwards a great ally of Mohammed Ali, and I have often seen him
riding about on a fine horse caparisoned with red velvet in the old
Mameluke style. On the wall in one part of this passage, towards the
inner gate, there is a square tablet containing a bas-relief of a spread
eagle: this is considered by the superstitious as the talisman of Cairo,
and is said to give a warning cry when any calamity is about to happen
to the city. Its origin, as well as most things of any antiquity in the
citadel, is ascribed to Saladin (Yousef Sala Eddin), who is called here
Yousef (Joseph); and Joseph's Well, and Joseph's Hall, are the two great
lions of the place.
The well, which is of great depth, is remarkable from its having a broad
winding staircase cut in the rock around the shaft: this extends only
half way down, where two oxen are employed to draw water by a wheel and
buckets from the bottom, which is here poured into a cistern, whence it
is raised to the top by another wheel. It is supposed, however, that
this well is an ancient work, and that it was only cleaned out by
Saladin when he rebuilt the walls of the town and fortified the citadel.
The hall, which was a very fine room, divided into aisles by magnificent
antique columns of red granite, has unfortunately been pulled down by
Mohammed Ali. He did this to make way for the mosque which he has built
of Egyptian alabaster, a splendid material, but its barbarous Armenian
architecture offers a sad contrast to the stately edifice which has been
so ruthlessly destroyed. It is indeed a sad thing for Cairo that the
flimsy architecture of Constantinople, so utterly unsuited to this
climate, has been introduced of late years in the public buildings and
the palaces of the ministers, which lift up their bald and miserable
whitewashed walls above the beautiful Arabian works of earlier days.
The residence of the Pasha is within the walls of the citadel. The long
range of the windows of the harem from their lofty position overlook
great part of the city, which must render it a more cheerful residence
for the ladies than harems usually are. When a number of Eastern women
are congregated together, as is frequently the case, without the society
of the other sex, it is surprising how helpless they become, and how
neglectful of everything excepting their own persons and their food.
Eating and dressing are their sole pursuits. If there be a garden
attached to the harem they take no trouble about it, and at
Constantinople the ladies of the Sultan tread on the flower-beds and
destroy the garden as a flock of sheep would do if let loose in it. A
Turkish lady is the wild variety of the species. Many of them are
beautiful and graceful, but they do not appear to abound in intellectual
charms. Until the minds of the women are enlarged by better education,
any chance of amelioration among the people of the Levant is hopeless:
for it is in the nursery that the seeds of superstition, prejudice, and
unreason are sown, the effects of which cling for life to the minds even
of superior men.
CHAPTER V.
Interview with Mohammed Ali Pasha--Mode of lighting a Room in
Egypt--Personal Appearance of the Pasha--His Diamond-mounted
Pipe--The lost Handkerchief--An unceremonious Attendant--View of
Cairo from the Citadel--Site of Memphis; its immense extent--The
Tombs of the Caliphs--The Pasha's Mausoleum--Costume of Egyptian
Ladies--The Coboob, or Wooden Clog--Mode of dressing the Hair--The
Veil--Mistaken Idea that the Egyptian Ladies are Prisoners in the
Harem; their power of doing as they like--The Veil a complete
Disguise--Laws of the Harem--A Levantine Beauty--Eastern
Manners--The Abyssinian Slaves--Arab Girls--Ugliness of the Arab
Women when old--Venerable Appearance of the old Men--An Arab
Sheick.
It was in the month of February, 1834, that I first had the honour of an
audience with Mohammed Ali Pasha. It was during the Mahomedan month of
Ramadan, when the day is kept a strict fast, and nothing passes the lips
of the faithful till after sunset. It was at night, therefore, that we
were received. My companion and myself were residing at that time under
the hospitable roof of the Consul-General, and we accompanied him to the
citadel. The effect of the crowds of people in the streets, all carrying
lanterns, or preceded by men bearing the mashlak, blazing like a beacon
on the top of its high pole, was very picturesque. The great hall of the
citadel was full of men, arranged in rows with their faces towards the
south, going through the forms and attitudes of evening prayer under
the guidance of a leader, and with the precision of a regiment on drill.
Passing these, a curtain was drawn aside, and we were ushered at once
into the presence of the Viceroy, whom we found walking up and down in
the middle of a large room, between two rows of gigantic silver
candlesticks, which stood upon the carpet. This is the usual way of
lighting a room in Egypt:--Six large silver dishes, about two feet in
diameter and turned upside down, are first placed upon the floor, three
on each side, near the centre of the room. On each of these stands a
silver candlestick, between four and five feet high, containing a wax
candle three feet long, and very thick. A seventh candlestick, of
smaller dimensions, stands on the floor, separate from these, for the
purpose of being moved about; it is carried to any one who wants to read
a letter, or to examine an object more closely while he is seated on the
divan. Almost every room in the palace has an European chandelier
hanging from the ceiling, but I do not remember having ever seen one
lit. These large candlesticks, standing in two rows, with the little one
before them, always put me in mind of a line of life guards of gigantic
stature, commanded by a little officer whom they could almost put in
their pockets.
[Illustration: EGYPTIAN, IN THE NIZAM DRESS.]
Mohammed Ali desired us to be seated. He was attended by Boghos Bey, who
remained standing and interpreted for us. The Pasha at that time
was a hale, broad-shouldered, broad-faced man: his short grey beard
stuck out on each side of his face; his nostrils were very much opened;
and, with his quick sharp eye, he looked like an old grey lion. The
expression of his countenance was remarkably intelligent, but excepting
this there was nothing particular in his appearance. He was attired in
the Nizam dress of blue cloth. This costume consists of a red cap, a
jacket with flying sleeves, a waistcoat with tight sleeves under it, a
red shawl round the waist, a pair of trousers very full, like trunk
hose, down to the knee, from whence to the ankle they were tight. The
whole costume is always made of the same coloured cloth, usually black
or blue. He had white stockings and yellow morocco shoes.
When we were seated on the divan we commenced the usual routine of
Oriental compliments; and coffee was handed to us in cups entirely
covered with large diamonds. A pipe was then brought to the Pasha, but
not to us. This pipe was about seven feet long: the mouthpiece, of light
green amber, was a foot long, and a foot more below the mouthpiece, as
well as another part of the pipe lower down, was richly set with
diamonds of great value, with a diamond tassel hanging to it.
We discoursed for three quarters of an hour about the possibility of
laying a railway across the Isthmus of Suez, which was the project then
uppermost in the Pasha's mind; but the circumstance which most strongly
recalls this audience to my memory, and which struck me as an instance
of manners differing entirely from our own, was, in itself, a very
trivial one. The Pasha wanted his pocket handkerchief, and looked about
and felt in his pocket for it, but could not find it, making various
exclamations during his search, which at last were answered by an
attendant from the lower end of the room--"Feel in the other pocket,"
said the servant. "Well, it is not there," said the Pasha. "Look in the
other, then." "I have not got a handkerchief," or words to that effect,
were replied to immediately,--"Yes, you have;"--"No, I have not;"--"Yes,
you have." Eventually this attendant, advancing up to the Pasha, felt in
the pocket of his jacket, but the handkerchief was not to be found; then
he poked all round the Pasha's waist, to see whether it was not tucked
into his shawl: that would not do. So he took hold of his Sovereign and
pushed him half over on the divan, and looked under him to see whether
he was sitting on the handkerchief; then he pushed him over on the other
side. During all which manœuvres the Pasha sat as quietly and passively
as possible. The servant then, thrusting his arm up to the elbow in one
of the pockets of his Highness's voluminous trousers, pulled out a
snuff-box, a rosary, and several other things, which he laid upon the
divan. That would not do, either; so he came over to the other pocket,
and diving to a prodigious depth he produced the missing handkerchief
from the recesses thereof; and with great respect and gravity, thrusting
it into the Pasha's hand, he retired again to his place at the lower end
of the hall.
After being presented with sherbet, in glass bowls with covers, we took
our leave, and rode home through the crowds of persons with paper
lanterns, who turn night into day during the month of Ramadan.
The view from that part of the bastions of the citadel which looks over
the place of the Roumayli and the great mosque of Sultan Hassan is one
of the most extraordinary that can be seen any where. The whole city is
displayed at your feet; the numerous domes and minarets, the towers of
the Saracenic walls, the flat roofs of the houses, and the narrowness of
the streets giving it an aspect very different from that of an European
town. You see the Nile and the gardens of Ibrahim Pasha in the island of
Rhoda to the left; and the avenue of Egyptian sycamores to the right,
leading to the Pasha's country palace of Shoubra. Beyond the Nile, the
bare mysterious-looking desert, and the Pyramids standing on their rocky
base, lead the mind to dwell upon the mighty deeds of ancient days. The
forest of waving palm-trees, around Saccara, stretches away to the
south-west, shading the mounds of earth which cover the remains of the
vast city of Memphis, in comparison to which London would appear but a
secondary town: for if we may judge from the line of pyramids from Giseh
to Dashour, which formed the necropolis of Memphis, and the various
mounds and dykes and ancient remains which extend along the margin of
the Nile for nearly six-and-thirty miles, the extreme length of London
being barely eight, and of Paris not much more than four, Memphis must
have been larger than London, Paris, and ancient Rome, all united; and
judging from the description which Herodotus has given us of the
enormous size of the temples and buildings, which are now entirely
washed away, in consequence of their having been built on the alluvial
plain, which is every year inundated by the waters of the Nile, Memphis
in its glory must have exceeded any modern city, as much as the Pyramids
exceed any mausoleum which has been erected since those days.
The tombs of the Caliphs, as they are called, although most of them are
the burial-place of the Mameluke Sultans of Egypt, are magnificent and
imposing buildings. Many of them consist of a mosque built round a
court, to which is attached a great hall with a dome, under which is
placed the Sultan's tomb. These beautiful specimens of Arabian
architecture form a considerable town or city of the dead, on the east
and south sides of Cairo, about a mile beyond the walls. I was
astonished at their exceeding beauty and magnificence. Most of them
were built during the two centuries preceding the conquest of Egypt, by
Sultan Selim, in 1517, who tortured the last of the Mameluke Sultans,
Toman Bey, and hung him with a rope, which is yet to be seen dangling
over the gate called Bab Zuweyleh, in front of which criminals are still
executed.
The mausoleum of Sultan Bergook is a triumph of Saracenic architecture.
The minarets of these tombs are most richly ornamented with tracery,
sculpture, and variegated marbles. The walls of many of them are built
in alternate layers of red and white or black and white marble. The dome
of the tomb of Kaitbay is of stone, sculptured all over with an
arabesque pattern; and there are several other domes in different
mosques at Cairo equally richly ornamented. I have met with none
comparable to them either in Europe or in the Levant. It is strange that
none of the Italian architects ever thought of domes covered with rich
ornamental work in stone or marble; the effect of those at Cairo is
indescribably fine. Unfortunately they are now much neglected; but in
the clear dry air of Egypt, time falls more lightly on the works of man
than in the damp and chilly climates of the north, and the tombs of the
Mameluke sovereigns will probably last for centuries to come if they are
not pulled down for the materials, or removed to make way for some
paltry lath and plaster edifice which will fall in the lifetime of its
builder.
Besides these larger structures, many of the smaller tombs, which are
scattered over the desert for miles under the hills of Mokattam, are
studies for the architect. There are numerous little domes of beautiful
design, richly ornamented doors and gateways, tombs and tomb-stones of
all sorts and sizes in infinite variety, most of them so well preserved
in this glorious climate that the inscriptions on them are as legible as
when they were first put up.
The Pasha has built himself a house in this city of the dead, to which
many members of his family have gone before him. This mausoleum consists
of several buildings covered with low heavy domes, whitewashed or
plastered on the outside. Within, if I remember right, are the tombs of
Toussoun and Ismael Pashas, and those of several of his wives,
grand-children, and relatives; they repose under marble monuments,
somewhat resembling altars in shape, with a tall post or column at the
head and feet, as is usual in Turkish graves; the column at the head
being carved into the form of the head-dress distinctive of the rank or
sex of the deceased. These sepulchral chambers are all carpeted, and
Cashmere shawls are thrown over many of the tombs, while in arched
recesses there are divans with cushions for the use of those who come to
mourn over their departed relatives.
We will now return to the living; but so perfect an account of the
Arabian population of Cairo is to be found in Mr. Lane's 'Modern
Egypt,' that there is little left to say upon that subject, except that
since that work was published the presence of numerous Europeans has
diminished the originality of the Oriental manners of this city, and
numerous vices and modes of cheating, besides a larger variety of
drunken scenes, are offered for the observation of the curious, than
existed in the more unsophisticated times, before steamers came to
Alexandria, and what is called the overland journey to India was
established. The population of Cairo consists of the ruling class, who
are all Turks, who speak Turkish, and affect to despise all who have
never been rowed in a caïque upon the Bosphorus. Then come the Arabs,
the former conquerors of the land; they form the bulk of the
population--all the petty tradesmen and cultivators of the soil are of
Arab origin. Besides these are the Copts, who are descended from the
original lords of the country, the ancient Egyptians, who have left such
wonderful monuments of their power. After these may be reckoned the
motley crew of Jews, Franks, Armenians, Arabs of Barbary and the Hejaz,
Syrians, negroes, and Barabra; but these are but sojourners in the land,
and, except the Jews, can hardly be counted among the regular subjects
of the Pasha. There are besides, the Levantine Christians, who are under
the protection of one or other of the European powers. Many of this
class are rich and influential merchants; some of them live in the
Oriental style, and others are ambitious to assume the tight clothing
and manner of life of the Franks. The older merchants among the
Levantines keep more to the Oriental ways of life, while the younger
gentlemen and ladies follow the ugly fashion of Europe, particularly the
men, who leave off the cool and convenient Eastern dress to swelter in
the tight bandages of the Franks; the ladies, on the contrary, are apt
to retain the Oriental costume, which in its turn is neither so becoming
nor so easy as the Paris fashions. It must be the spirit of
contradiction, so natural to the human race, which causes this
arrangement; for if the men kept to their old costume they would be more
comfortable than they can be with tight clothes, coat-collars, and
neckcloths, when the thermometer stands at 112° of Fahrenheit in the
coolest shade, besides the dignity of their appearance, which is cast
away with the folds of the Turkish or Arabian dress. The ladies would be
much improved by the artful devices of the Parisian modistes; for
although, when young and pretty, all women look well in almost any
dress, the elder ladies are sometimes but little to be admired in the
shapeless costumes of the Levant, where the richness of the material
does not make up for the want of fit and gracefulness which is the
character of their dress. This may easily be imagined when it is
understood that both men's and women's dresses may be bought ready made
in the bazaar, and that any dress will fit anybody unless they are
supernaturally fat or of dwarfish stature.
An Egyptian lady's dress consists of a pair of immensely full trousers
of satin or brocade, or often of a brilliant cherry-coloured silk: these
are tied under the knees, and descending to the ground, have the
appearance of a very full petticoat. The Arabic name of this garment is
Shintian. Over this is worn a shirt of transparent silk gauze (Kamis).
It has long full sleeves, which, as well as the border round the neck,
are richly embroidered with gold and bright-coloured silks. The edge of
the shirt is often seen like a tunic over the trousers, and has a pretty
effect. Over this again is worn a long silk gown, open in front and on
each side, called a yelek. The fashion is to have the yelek about a foot
longer than the lady who wears it; so that its three tails shall just
touch the ground when she is mounted on a pair of high wooden clogs,
called cobcobs, which are intended for use in the bath, but in which
they often clatter about in the house: the straps over the instep, by
which these cobcobs are attached to the feet, are always finely worked,
and are sometimes of diamonds. The husband gives his bride on their
marriage a pair of these odd-looking things, which are about six or
eight inches high, and are always carried on a tray on a man's head in
marriage processions. The yelek fits the shape in some degree down to
the waist; it comes up high upon the neck, and has tightish sleeves,
which are long enough to trail upon the ground. "Oh! thou with the
long-sleeved yelek" is a common chorus or ending to a stanza in an Arab
song. Not round the waist but round the hips a large and heavy Cashmere
shawl is worn over the yelek, and the whole gracefulness of an Egyptian
dress consists in the way in which this is put on. In the winter a long
gown, called Jubeh, is superadded to all this: it is of cloth or velvet,
or a sort of stuff made of the Angora goat's hair, and is sometimes
lined with fur.
Young girls do not often wear this nor the yelek, but have instead a
waistcoat of silk with long sleeves like those of the yelek. This is
called an anteri, and over it they wear a velvet jacket with short
sleeves, which is so much embroidered with gold and pearls that the
velvet is almost hid. Their hair hangs down in numerous long tails,
plaited with silk, to which sequins, or little gold coins, are attached.
The plaits must be of an uneven number: it would be unlucky if they were
even. Sometimes at the end of one of the plaits hangs the little golden
bottle of surmeh with which they black the edges of their eyelids; a
most becoming custom when it is well done, and not smeared, as it often
is, for then the effect is rather like that of a black eye, in the
pugilistic sense of the term. On the head is worn a very beautiful
ornament called a koors. It is in the shape of a saucer or shallow
basin, and is frequently covered with rose diamonds. I am surprised
that it has never been introduced into Europe, as it is a remarkably
pretty head-dress, with the long tresses of jet black hair hanging from
under it, plaited with the shining coins. Round the head a handkerchief
is wound, which spoils the effect of all the rest: but a woman in the
East is never seen with the head uncovered, even in the house; and when
she goes out, the veil, as we call it, though it has no resemblance to a
veil, is used to conceal the whole person. A lady enclosed in this
singular covering looks like a large bundle of black silk, diversified
only by a stripe of white linen extending down the front of her person,
from the middle of her nose to her ungainly yellow boots, into which her
stockingless feet are thrust for the occasion. The veils of Egypt, of
which the outer black silk covering is called a khabara, and the part
over the face a boorkoo, are entirely different from those worn in
Constantinople, Persia, or Armenia; these are all various in form and
colour, complicated and wonderful garments, which it would take too long
to describe, but they, as well as the Egyptian one, answer their
intended purpose excellently, for they effectually prevent the display
of any grace or peculiarity of form or feature.
There is no greater mistake than to suppose that Eastern ladies are
prisoners in the harem, and that they are to be pitied for the want of
liberty which the jealousy of their husbands condemns them to. The
Christian ladies live from choice and habit in the same way as the
Mahomedan women: and, indeed, the Egyptian fair ones have more
facilities to do as they choose, to go where they like, and to carry on
any intrigue than the Europeans; for their complete disguise carries
them safely everywhere. No one knows whether any lady he may meet in the
bazaar is his wife, his daughter, or his grandmother: and I have several
times been addressed by Turkish and Egyptian ladies in the open street,
and asked all sorts of questions in a way that could not be done in any
European country. The harem, it is true, is by law inviolable: no one
but the Sultan can enter it unannounced, and if a pair of strange
slippers are seen left at the outer door, the master of the house cannot
enter his own harem so long as this proof of the presence of a visitor
remains. If the husband is a bore, an extra pair of slippers will at all
times keep him out; and the ladies inside may enjoy themselves without
the slightest fear of interruption. It is asserted also that gentlemen,
who are not too tall, have gone into all sorts of places under the
protection of a lady's veil, so completely does it conceal the person.
But this is not the case with the Levantine or Christian ladies:
although they live in a harem, like the Mahomedans, it is not protected
in the same way: the slippers have not the same effect; for the men of
the family go in and out whenever they please; and relations and
visitors of the male sex are received in the apartments of the ladies.
On one occasion I accompanied an English traveller, who had many
acquaintances at Cairo, to the house of a Levantine in the vicinity of
the Coptic quarter. Whilst we were engaged in conversation with an old
lady the curtain over the doorway was drawn aside, and there entered the
most lovely apparition that can be conceived, in the person of a young
lady about sixteen years old, the daughter of the lady of the house. She
had a beautifully fair complexion, very uncommon in this country,
remarkably long hair, which hung down her back, and her dress, which was
all of the same rich material, rose-coloured silk, shot with gold,
became her so well, that I have rarely seen so graceful and striking a
figure. She was closely followed by two black girls, both dressed in
light-blue satin, embroidered with silver; they formed an excellent
contrast to their charming mistress, and were very good-looking in their
way, with their slight and graceful figures. The young Levantine came
and sat by me on the divan, and was much amused at my blundering
attempts at conversation in Arabic, of which I then knew scarcely a
dozen words. I must confess that I was rather vexed with her for smoking
a long jessamine pipe, which, however, most Eastern ladies do. She got
up to wait upon us, and handed us the coffee, pipes, and sherbet, which
are always presented to visitors in every house. This custom of being
waited upon by the ladies is rather distressing to our European notions
of devotion to the fair sex: and I remember being horrified shortly
after my arrival in Egypt at the manners of a rich old jeweller to whom
I was introduced. His wife, a beautiful woman, superbly dressed in
brocade, with gold and diamond ornaments, waited upon us during the
whole time that I remained in the house. She was the first Eastern lady
I had seen, and I remember being much edified at the way she pattered
about on a pair of lofty cobcobs, and the artful way in which she got
her feet out of them whenever she came up towards where we sat on the
divan, at the upper end of the apartment. She stood at the lower end of
the room; and whenever the old brute of a jeweller wanted to return
anything, some coins which he was showing me, or anything else, he threw
them on the floor; and his beautiful wife jumping out of her cobcobs
picked them up; and when she had handed them to some of the maids who
stood at the door, resumed her station below the step at the further end
of the room. She had magnificent eyes and luxuriant black hair, as they
all have, and would have been considered a beauty in any country; but
she was not to be compared to the bright little damsel in pink, who,
besides her beauty, was as cheerful and merry as a bird, and whose
lovely features were radiant with archness and intelligence. Many of the
Abyssinian slaves are exceedingly handsome: they have very expressive
countenances, and the finest eyes in the world, and, withal, so soft and
humble a look, that I do not wonder at their being great favourites in
Egyptian harems. Many of them, however, have a temper of their own,
which comes out occasionally, and in this respect the Arab women are not
much behind them. But the fiery passions of this burning climate pass
away like a thunderstorm, and leave the sky as clear and serene as it
was before.
The Arab girls of the lower orders are often very pretty from the age of
about twelve to twenty, but they soon go off; and the astounding
ugliness of some of the old women is too terrible to describe. In Europe
we have nothing half so hideous as these brown old women, and this is
the more remarkable, because the old men are peculiarly handsome and
venerable in their appearance, and often display a dignity of bearing
which is seldom to be met with in Europe. The stately gravity of an Arab
sheick, seated on the ground in the shade of a tree, with his sons and
grandsons standing before him, waiting for his commands, is singularly
imposing.
CHAPTER VI.
Mohammed Bey, Defterdar--His Expedition to Senaar--His Barbarity
and Rapacity--His Defiance of the Pasha--Stories of his Cruelty and
Tyranny--The Horse-shoe--The Fight of the Mamelukes--His cruel
Treachery--His Mode of administering Justice--The stolen Milk--The
Widow's Cow--Sale and Distribution of the Thief--The Turkish
Character--Pleasures of a Journey on the Nile--The Copts--Their
Patriarchs--The Patriarch of Abyssinia--Basileos Bey--His Boat--An
American's choice of a Sleeping-place.
Just before my arrival in Cairo a certain Mohammed Bey, Defterdar, had
died rather suddenly, after drinking a cup of coffee, a beverage which
occasionally disagrees with the great men in Turkey, although not so
much so now as in former days. This Defterdar, or accountant, had been
sent by the Sultan to receive the Imperial revenue from the Pasha of
Egypt, who had given him his daughter in marriage. As the presence of
the Defterdar was probably a check upon the projects of the Pasha, he
sent him to Senaar, at the head of an expedition, to revenge the death
of Toussoun Pasha, his second son, who had been burned alive in his
house by one of the exasperated chiefs of Nubia. This was a mission
after Mohammed Bey's own heart: he impaled the chief and several of his
family, and displayed a rapacity and cruelty unheard of before even in
those blood-stained countries. His talent for collecting spoil, and
valuables of every description, was first-rate; chests and bags of the
pure gold rings used in the traffic of Central Africa accumulated in his
tents; he did not stick at a trifle in his measures for procuring gold,
pearls, and diamonds, wherever they were to be heard of; streams of
blood accompanied his march, and the vultures followed in his track. He
was a sportsman too, and hunted slaves, killing the old ones, and
carrying off the children, whom he sent to Egypt to be sold. Many died
on the journey; but that did not much matter, as it increased the value
of the rest.
At last, alter a most successful campaign, the Defterdar returned to his
palace at Cairo, which was reported to be filled with treasure. The
habits he had acquired in the upper country stuck to him after he got
back to Egypt, and the Pasha was obliged to express his disapprobation
of the cruelties which were committed by him on the most trivial
occasions. The Defterdar, however, set the Pasha at defiance, told him
he was no subject of his, but that he was an envoy from his master the
Sultan, to whom alone he was responsible, and that he would do as he
pleased with those under his command. The Pasha, it is said, made no
further remonstrance, and continued to treat his son-in-law with
distinguished courtesy.
Numerous stories are told of the cruelty and tyranny of this man. One
day, on his way to the citadel, he found that his horse had cast a shoe.
He inquired of his groom, who in Egypt runs by the side of the horse,
how it was that his horse had lost his shoe. The groom said he did not
know, but that he supposed it had not been well nailed on. Presently
they came to a farrier's shop; the Defterdar stopped, and ordered two
horseshoes to be brought; one was put upon the horse, and the other he
made red hot, and commanded them to nail it firmly to the foot of the
groom, whom in that condition he compelled to run by his horse's side up
the steep hill which leads to the citadel.
In Turkey it was the custom in the houses of the great to have a number
of young men, who in Egypt were called Mamelukes, after that gallant
corps had been destroyed. A number of the Mamelukes of Mohammed Bey,
Defterdar, driven to desperation by the cruelties of their master, beat
or killed one of the superior agas of the household, took some money
which they found in his possession, and determined to escape from the
service of their tyrant. His guards and kawasses soon found them out,
and they retired to a strong tower, which they determined to defend,
preferring the remotest chance of successful resistance to the terrors
of service under the ferocious Defterdar. The Bey, however, managed to
cajole them with promises, and they returned to his palace, expecting to
be better treated. They found the Bey seated on his divan in the
Manderan or hall of audience, surrounded by the officers and kawasses
whom interest had attached to his service. The young Mamelukes had given
up the money which they had taken, and the Bey had it on the divan by
his side. He now told them that if they would divide themselves into two
parties and fight against each other, he would pardon the victorious
party, present them with the bag of gold, and permit them to depart; but
that if they did not agree to this proposal he would kill them all. The
Mamelukes, finding they were entrapped, consented to the conditions of
the Bey, and half their number were soon weltering in their blood on the
floor of the hall. When the conquerors claimed the promised reward, the
Defterdar, who had now far superior numbers on his side, again commanded
them to divide and fight against each other. Again they fought in
despair, preferring death by their own swords to the tortures which they
knew the merciless Defterdar would inflict upon them now that he had got
them completely in his power. At length only one Mameluke remained, whom
the Bey, with kind and encouraging words, ordered to approach,
commending his valour and holding out to him the promised bag of gold as
his reward. As he approached, stepping over the bodies of his
companions, who all lay dead or dying on the floor, and held out his
hands for the money, the Defterdar, with a grim smile, made a sign to
one of his kawasses, and the head of the young man rolled at the
tyrant's feet "Thus," said he, "shall perish all who dare to offend
Mohammed Bey."
The Defterdar was fond of justice, after a fashion, and his mode of
administering it was characteristic. A poor woman came before him and
complained that one of his kawasses had seized a cup of milk and drunk
it, refusing to pay her its value, which she estimated at five paras (a
para is the fortieth part of a piastre, which is worth about
twopence-halfpenny). The sensitive justice of the Defterdar was roused
by this complaint. He asked the woman if she should know the person who
had stolen her milk were she to see him again? The woman said she
should, upon which the whole household was drawn out before her, and
looking round she fixed upon a man as the thief. "Very well," said the
Defterdar, "I hope you are sure of your man, and that you have not made
a false accusation before me. He shall be ripped open, and if the milk
is found in his stomach, you shall receive your five paras; but if there
is no milk found, you shall be ripped up in turn for accusing one of my
household unjustly." The unfortunate kawass was cut open on the spot;
some milk was found in him, and the woman received her five paras.
Another of his judicial sentences was rather an original conception. A
man in Upper Egypt stole a cow from a widow, and having killed it, he
cut it into twenty pieces, which he sold for a piastre each in the
bazaar. The widow complained to the Defterdar, who seized the thief, and
having without further ceremony cut him into twenty pieces, forced
twenty people who came into the market on that day from the neighbouring
villages to buy a piece of thief each for a piastre; the joints of the
robber were thus distributed all over the country, and the story told by
the involuntary purchasers of these pounds of flesh had a wholesome
effect upon the minds of the cattle-stealers: the twenty piastres were
given to the woman, whose cows were not again meddled with during the
lifetime of the Defterdar. But the character of this man must not be
taken as a sample of the habits of the Turks in general. They are a
grave and haughty race, of dignified manners; rapacious they often are,
but they are generous and brave, and I do not think that, as a nation,
they can be accused of cruelty.
Nothing can be more secure and peaceable than a journey on the Nile, as
every one knows nowadays. Floating along in a boat like a house, which
stops and goes on whenever you like, you have no cares or troubles but
those which you bring with you--"cœlum non animum mutant qui trans mare
currunt." I can conceive nothing more delightful than a voyage up the
Nile with agreeable companions in the winter, when the climate is
perfection. There are the most wonderful antiquities for those who
interest themselves in the remains of bygone days; famous shooting on
the banks of the river, capital dinners, if you know how to make the
proper arrangements, comfortable quarters, and a constant change of
scene.
* * * * *
The wonders of the land of Ham, its temples and its ruins, have been so
well and so often described that I shall not attempt to give any details
regarding them, but shall confine myself to some sketches of the Coptic
Monasteries which are to be seen on the rocks and deserts, either on the
banks of the river or in the neighbourhood of the valley of the Nile.
The ancient Egyptians are now represented by their descendants the
Copts, whose ancestors were converted to Christianity in the earliest
ages, and whose patriarchs claim their descent, in uninterrupted
succession, from St Mark, who was buried at Alexandria, but whose body
the Venetians in later ages boast of having transported to their island
city.[3]
The Copts look up to their patriarch as the chief of their nation: he is
elected from among the brethren of the great monastery of St. Anthony
on the borders of the Red Sea, a proceeding which ensures his entire
ignorance of all sublunary matters, and his consequent incapacity for
his high and responsible office, unless he chance to be a man of very
uncommon talents. Like the patriarch of Constantinople, he is usually a
puppet in the hands of a cabal who make use of him for their own
interested purposes, and when they have got him into a scrape leave him
to get out of it as he can. He is called the Patriarch of Alexandria,
but for many years his residence has been at Cairo, where he has a large
dreary palace. He is surrounded by priests and acolytes; but when I was
last at Cairo there was but one remaining Coptic scribe among them, whom
I engaged to copy out the Gospel of St Mark from an ancient MS. in the
patriarchal library: however, after a very long delay he copied out St.
Matthew's Gospel by mistake, and I was told that there was no other
person whose profession it was to copy Coptic writings.
The patriarch has twelve bishops under him, whose residences are at
Nagadé, Abou Girgé, Aboutig, Siout, Girgé, Manfalout, Maharaka, the
Fioum, Atfeh, Behenesé, and Jerusalem: he also consecrates the Abouna or
Patriarch of Abyssinia, who by a specific law must not be a native of
that country, and who has not the privilege of naming his successor or
consecrating archbishops or bishops, although in other respects his
authority in religious matters is supreme. The Patriarch of Abyssinia
usually ordains two or three thousand priests at once on his first
arrival in that country, and the unfitness of the individual appointed
to this high office has sometimes caused much scandal. This has arisen
from the difficulty there has often been in getting a respectable person
to accept the office, as it involves perpetual banishment from Egypt,
and a residence among a people whose partiality to raw meat and other
peculiar customs are held as abominations by the Egyptians.
The usual trade and occupation of the Copts is that of kateb, scribe, or
accountant; they seem to have a natural talent for arithmetic. They
appear to be more afflicted with ophthalmia than the Mohamedans, perhaps
because they drink wine and spirits, which the others do not.
The person of the greatest consequence among the Copts was Basileos Bey,
the Pasha's confidential secretary and minister of finance. This
gentleman was good enough to lend me a magnificent dahabieh or boat of
the largest size, which I used for many months. It was an old-fashioned
vessel, painted and gilt inside in a brilliant manner, which is not
usual in more modern boats; but being a person of a fanciful
disposition, I preferred the roomy proportions and the quaint arabesque
ornaments of this boat, although it was no very fast sailer, to the
natty vessels which were more Europeanised and quicker than mine. The
principal cabin was about ten feet by twelve, and was ornamented with
paintings of peacocks of a peculiar breed and nondescript flowers. The
divans, one on each side, were covered with fine carpets, and the
cushions were of cloth of gold, with a raised pattern of red velvet. The
ceilings were gilt, and we had two red silk flags of prodigious
dimensions in addition to streamers forty or fifty feet long at the end
of each of the yard-arms: in short, it was full of what is called
fantasia in the Levant, and as for its slowness, I consider that rather
an advantage in the East. I like to take my time and look about me, and
sit under a tree on a carpet when I get to an agreeable place, and I am
in no hurry to leave it; so the heavy qualities of the vessel suited me
exactly--we did nothing but stop everywhere. But although I confess that
I like deliberate travelling, I do not carry my system to the extent of
an American friend with whom I once journeyed from the shores of the
Black Sea to Hungary. We were taking a walk together in the mountains
near Mahadia, when seeing him looking about among the rocks I asked him
what he wanted. "Oh," said he, "I am looking out for a good place to go
to sleep in, for there is a beautiful view here, and I like to sleep
where there is a fine prospect, that I may enjoy it when I awake; so
good afternoon, and if you come back this way mind you call me."
Accordingly an hour or two afterwards I came back and aroused my
friend, who was still fast asleep. "I hope you enjoyed your nap," said
I; "we had a glorious walk among the hills." "Yes," said he, "I had a
famous nap." "And what did you think of the view when you awoke?" "The
view!" exclaimed he, "why, I forgot to look at it!"
NATRON LAKES.
CHAPTER VII.
Visit to the Coptic Monasteries near the Natron Lakes--The Desert
of Nitria--Early Christian Anchorites--St. Macarius of
Alexandria--His Abstinence and Penance--Order of Monks founded by
him--Great increase of the Number of ascetic Monks in the Fourth
Century--Their subsequent decrease, and the present ruined state of
the Monasteries--Legends of the Desert--Capture of a Lizard--Its
_alarming_ escape--The Convent of Baramous--Night attacks--Invasion
of Sanctuary--Ancient Glass Lamps--Monastery of Souriani--Its
Library and Coptic MSS.--The Blind Abbot and his Oil-cellar--The
persuasive powers of Rosoglio--Discovery of Syriac MSS.--The
Abbot's supposed treasure.
In the month of March, 1837, I left Cairo for the purpose of visiting
the Coptic monasteries in the neighbourhood of the Natron lakes, which
are situated in the desert to the north-west of Cairo, on the western
side of the Nile. I had some difficulty in procuring a boat to take me
down the river--indeed there was not one to be obtained; but two English
gentlemen, on their way from China to England, were kind enough to give
me a passage in their boat to the village of Terrané, the nearest spot
upon the banks of the Nile to the monasteries which I proposed to visit.
The Desert of Nitria is famous in the annals of monastic history as the
first place to which the Anchorites, in the early ages of Christianity,
retired from the world in order to pass their lives in prayer and
contemplation, and in mortification of the flesh. It was in Egypt where
monasticism first took its rise, and the Coptic monasteries of St.
Anthony and St. Paul claim to be founded on the spots where the first
hermits established their cells on the shores of the Red Sea. Next in
point of antiquity are the monasteries of Nitria, of which we have
authentic accounts dated as far back as the middle of the second
century; for about the year 150 A.D. Fronto retired to the valleys of
the Natron lakes with seventy brethren in his company. The Abba Ammon
(whose life is detailed in the 'Vitæ Patrum' of Rosweyd, Antwerp, 1628,
a volume of great rarity and dulness, which I only obtained after a long
search among the mustiest of the London book-stalls) flourished, or
rather withered, in this desert in the beginning of the fourth century.
At this time also the Abba Bischoi founded the monastery still called
after his name, which, it seems, was Isaiah or Esa: the Coptic article
Pe or Be makes it Besa, under which name he wrote an ascetic work, a
manuscript of which, probably almost if not quite as old as his time, I
procured in Egypt. It is one of the most ancient manuscripts now extant.
But the chief and pattern of all the recluses of Nitria was the great
St. Macarius of Alexandria, whose feast-day--a day which he never
observed himself--is still kept by the Latins on the 2nd, and by the
Greeks on the 19th of January. This famous saint died A.D. 394, after
sixty years of austerities in various deserts: he first retired into the
Thebaid in the year 335, and about the year 373 established himself in a
solitary cell on the borders of the Natron lakes. Numerous anchorites
followed his example, all living separately, but meeting together on
Sundays for public prayer. Self-denial and abstinence were their great
occupations; and it is related that a traveller having given St.
Macarius a bunch of grapes, he sent it to another brother, who sent it
to a third, and at last, the grapes having passed through the hands of
some hundreds of hermits, came back to St. Macarius, who rejoiced at
such a proof of the abstinence of his brethren, but refused to eat of it
himself. This same saint having thoughtlessly killed a gnat which was
biting him, he was so unhappy at what he had done, that to make amends
for his inadvertency, and to increase his mortifications, he retired to
the marshes of Scete, where there were flies whose powerful stings were
sufficient to pierce the hide of a wild boar; here he remained six
months, till his body was so much disfigured that his brethren on his
return only knew him by the sound of his voice. He was the founder of
the monastic order which, as well as the monastery still existing on the
site of his cell, was called after his name. By their rigid rule the
monks are bound to fast the whole year, excepting on Sundays and during
the period between Easter and Whitsuntide: they were not to speak to a
stranger without leave. During Lent St. Macarius fasted all day, and
sometimes ate nothing for two or three days together; on Sundays,
however, he indulged in a raw cabbage-leaf, and in short set such an
example of abstinence and self-restraint to the numerous anchorites of
the desert, that the fame of his austerities gained him many admirers.
Throughout the middle ages his name is mentioned with veneration in all
the collections of the lives of the saints: he is represented pointing
out the vanities of life in the great fresco of the Triumph of Death, by
Andrea Orcagna, in the Campo Santo at Pisa. In his Life in Caxton's
'Golden Legende,' and in 'The Lives of the Fathers,' by Wynkyn de Worde,
a detailed account will be found of a most interesting conversation
which Macarius had with the devil, touching divers matters. Several of
his miracles are also put into modern English, in Lord Lindsay's book of
Christian Art. I have a MS. of the Gospels in Coptic, written by the
hand of one Zapita Leporos, under the rule of the great Macarius, in the
monastery of Laura, about the year 390, and which may have been used by
the Saint himself.
After the time of Macarius the number of ascetic monks increased to a
surprising amount. Rufinus, who visited them in the year 372, mentions
fifty of their convents; Palladius, who was there in the year 387,
reckons the devotees at five thousand. St Jerome also visited them, and
their number seems to have been kept up without much diminution for
several centuries.[4] After the conquest of Egypt by the Arabians, and
about the year 967, a Mahomedan author, Aboul Faraj of Hispahan, wrote a
book of poems, called the 'Book of Convents,' which is in praise of the
habits and religious devotion of the Christian monks. The dilapidated
monastery of St. Macarius was repaired and fortified by Sanutius,
Patriarch of Alexandria, at which good work he laboured with his own
bands: this must have been about the year 880, as he died in 881. In
more recent times the multitude of ascetics gradually decreased, and but
few travellers have extended their researches to their arid haunts. At
present only four monasteries remain entire, although the ruins of many
others may still be traced in the desert tracts on the west side of the
line of the Natron lakes, and the valley of the waterless river, which,
at some very remote period, is supposed to have formed the bed of one of
the branches of the Nile.
At the village of Terrané I was most hospitably received by an Italian
gentleman, who was superintending the export of the natron. Here I
procured camels; I had brought a tent with me; and the next day we set
off across the plain, with the Arabs to whom the camels belonged, and
who, having been employed in the transport of the natron, were able to
show us the way, which it would have been very difficult to trace
without their help. The memory of the devils and evil spirits who,
according to numerous legends, used formerly to haunt this desert,
seemed still to awaken the fears of these Arab guides. During the first
day's journey I talked to them on the subject, and found that their
minds were full of superstitious fancies.
It is said that tailors sometimes stand up to rest themselves, and on
that principle I had descended from my huge, ungainly camel, who had
never before been used for riding, and whose swinging paces were very
irksome, and was resting myself by walking in his shade, when seeing
something run up to a large stone which lay in the way, I moved it to
see what it was. I found a lizard, six or eight inches long, of a
species with which I was unacquainted. I caught the reptile by the nape
of the neck, which made him open his ugly mouth in a curious way, and he
wriggled about so much that I could hardly hold him. Judging that he
might be venomous, I looked about for some safe place to put him, and my
eye fell upon the large glass lantern which was used in the tent; that,
I thought, was just the thing for my lizard, so I put him into the
lantern, which hung at the side of the baggage camel, intending to
examine him at my leisure in the evening. When the sun was about to set,
the tent was pitched, and a famous fire lit for the cook. It was in a
bare, open place, without a hill, stock, or stone in sight in any
direction all around. The camels were tethered together, near the
baggage, which was piled in a heap to the windward of the fire; and, as
it was getting dark, one of the Arabs took the lantern to the fire to
light it. He got a blazing stick for this purpose, and held up the
lantern close to his face to undo the hasp, which he had no sooner
accomplished than out jumped the lizard upon his shoulder and
immediately made his escape. The Arab, at this unexpected attack, gave a
fearful yell, and dashing the lantern to pieces on the ground, screamed
out that the devil had jumped upon him and had disappeared in the
darkness, and that he was certain he was waiting to carry us all off.
The other Arabs were seriously alarmed, and for a long while paid no
attention to my explanation about the lizard, which was the cause of all
the disturbance. The worst of the affair was that the lantern being
broken to bits, we could have no light; for the wind blew the candles
out, notwithstanding our most ingenious efforts to shelter them. The
Arabs were restless all night, and before sunrise we were again under
way, and in the course of the day arrived at the convent of Baramous.
This monastery consisted of a high stone wall, surrounding a square
enclosure, of about an acre in extent. A large square tower commanded
the narrow entrance, which was closed by a low and narrow iron door.
Within there was a good-sized church in tolerable preservation, standing
nearly in the centre of the enclosure, which contained nothing else but
some ruined buildings and a few large fig-trees, growing out of the
disjointed walls. Two or three poor-looking monks still tenanted the
ruins of the abbey. They had hardly anything to offer us, and were glad
to partake of some of the rice and other eatables which we had brought
with us. I wandered about among the ruins with the half-starved monks
following me. We went into the square tower, where, in a large vaulted
room with open unglazed windows, were forty or fifty Coptic manuscripts
on cotton paper, lying on the floor, to which several of them adhered
firmly, not having been moved for many years. I only found one leaf on
vellum, which I brought away. The other manuscripts appeared to be all
liturgies; most of them smelling of incense when I opened them, and well
smeared with dirt and wax from the candles which had been held over them
during the reading of the service.
I took possession of a half-ruined cell, where my carpets were spread,
and where I went to sleep early in the evening; but I had hardly closed
my eyes before I was so briskly attacked by a multitude of ravenous
fleas, that I jumped up and ran out into the court to shake myself and
get rid if I could of my tormentors. The poor monks, hearing my
exclamations, crept out of their holes and recommended me to go into the
church, which they said would be safe from the attacks of the enemy. I
accordingly took a carpet which I had well shaken and beaten, and lay
down on the marble floor of the church, where I presently went to sleep.
Again I was awakened by the wicked fleas, who, undeterred by the
sanctity of my asylum, renewed their attack in countless legions. The
slaps I gave myself were all in vain; for, although I slew them by
dozens in my rage, others came on in their place. There was no
withstanding them, and, fairly vanquished, I was forced to abandon my
position, and walk about and look at the moon till the sun rose, when my
villainous tormentors slunk away and allowed me a short snatch of the
repose which they had prevented my enjoying all night.
There were several curious lamps in this church formed of ancient glass,
like those in the mosque of Sultan Hassan at Cairo, which are said to be
of the same date as the mosque, and to be of Syrian manufacture. These,
which were in the shape of large open vases, were ornamented with pious
sentences in Arabic characters, in blue on a white ground.[5] They were
very handsome, and, except one of the same kind, which is now in
England, in the possession of Mr. Magniac, I never saw any like them.
They are probably some of the most ancient specimens of ornamental glass
existing, excepting, of course, the vases and lachrymatories of the
classic times.
Quitting the monastery of Baramous, we went to that of Souriani, where
we left our baggage and tent, and proceeded to visit the monasteries of
Amba Bischoi and Abou Magar, or St. Macarius, both of which were in very
poor condition. These monasteries are so much alike in their plan and
appearance, that the description of one is the description of all. I saw
none but the church books in either of them, and at the time of my visit
they were apparently inhabited only by three or four monks, who
conducted the services of their respective churches.
On this journey we passed many ruins and heaps of stones nearly level
with the ground, the remains of some of the fifty monasteries which once
flourished in the wilderness of Scete.
In the evening I returned to Souriani, where I was hospitably received
by the abbot and fourteen or fifteen Coptic monks. They provided me with
an agreeable room looking into the garden within the walls. My servants
were lodged in some other small cells or rooms near mine, which happily
not being tenanted by fleas or any other wild beasts of prey, was
exceedingly comfortable when my bright-coloured carpets and cushions
were spread upon the floor; and, after the adventures of the two former
nights, I rested in great comfort and peace.
In the morning I went to see the church and all the other wonders of the
place, and on making inquiries about the library, was conducted by the
old abbot, who was blind, and was constantly accompanied by another
monk, into a small upper room in the great square tower, where we found
several Coptic manuscripts. Most of these were lying on the floor, but
some were placed in niches in the stone wall. They were all on paper,
except three or four. One of these was a superb manuscript of the
Gospels, with commentaries by the early fathers of the church; two
others were doing duty as coverings to a couple of large open pots or
jars, which had contained preserves, long since evaporated. I was
allowed to purchase these vellum manuscripts, as they were considered to
be useless by the monks, principally I believe because there were no
more preserves in the jars. On the floor I found a fine Coptic and
Arabic dictionary. I was aware of the existence of this volume, with
which they refused to part. I placed it in one of the niches in the
wall; and some years afterwards it was purchased for me by a friend, who
sent it to England after it had been copied at Cairo. They sold me two
imperfect dictionaries, which I discovered loaded with dust upon the
ground. Besides these, I did not see any other books but those of the
liturgies for various holy days. These were large folios on cotton
paper, most of them of considerable antiquity, and well begrimed with
dirt.
The old blind abbot had solemnly declared that there were no other books
in the monastery besides those which I had seen; but I had been told, by
a French gentleman at Cairo, that there were many ancient manuscripts in
the monks' oil cellar; and it was in pursuit of these and the Coptic
dictionary that I had undertaken the journey to the Natron lakes. The
abbot positively denied the existence of these books, and we retired
from the library to my room with the Coptic manuscripts which they had
ceded to me without difficulty; and which, according to the dates
contained in them, and from their general appearance, may claim to be
considered among the oldest manuscripts in existence, more ancient
certainly than many of the Syriac MSS. which I am about to describe.
The abbot, his companion, and myself sat down together. I produced a
bottle of rosoglio from my stores, to which I knew that all Oriental
monks were partial; for though they do not, I believe, drink wine
because an excess in its indulgence is forbidden by Scripture, yet
ardent spirits not having been invented in those times, there is nothing
said about them in the Bible; and at Mount Sinai and all the other spots
of sacred pilgrimage the monks comfort themselves with a little glass
or rather a small coffee cup of arrack or raw spirits when nothing
better of its kind is to be procured. Next to the golden key, which
masters so many locks, there is no better opener of the heart than a
sufficiency of strong drink,--not too much, but exactly the proper
quantity judiciously exhibited (to use a chemical term in the land of Al
Chémé, where alchemy and chemistry first had their origin). I have
always found it to be invincible; and now we sat sipping our cups of the
sweet pink rosoglio, and firing little compliments at each other, and
talking pleasantly over our bottle till some time passed away, and the
face of the blind abbot waxed bland and confiding; and he had that
expression on his countenance which men wear when they are pleased with
themselves and bear goodwill towards mankind in general. I had by the
bye a great advantage over the good abbot, as I could see the workings
of his features and he could not see mine, or note my eagerness about
the oil-cellar, on the subject of which I again gradually entered.
"There is no oil there," said he. "I am curious to see the architecture
of so ancient a room," said I; "for I have heard that yours is a famous
oil-cellar." "It is a famous cellar," said the other monk. "Take another
cup of rosoglio," said I. "Ah!" replied he, "I remember the days when it
overflowed with oil, and then there were I do not know how many brethren
here with us. But now we are few and poor; bad times are come over us:
we are not what we used to be." "I should like to see it very much,"
said I; "I have heard so much about it even at Cairo. Let us go and see
it; and when we come back we will have another bottle; and I will give
you a few more which I have brought with me for your private use."
This last argument prevailed. We returned to the great tower, and
ascended the steep flight of steps which led to its door of entrance. We
then descended a narrow staircase to the oil-cellar, a handsome vaulted
room, where we found a range of immense vases which formerly contained
the oil, but which now on being struck returned a mournful, hollow
sound. There was nothing else to be seen: there were no books here: but
taking the candle from the hands of one of the brethren (for they had
all wandered in after us, having nothing else to do), I discovered a
narrow low door, and, pushing it open, entered into a small closet
vaulted with stone which was filled to the depth of two feet or more
with the loose leaves of the Syriac manuscripts which now form one of
the chief treasures of the British Museum. Here I remained for some time
turning over the leaves and digging into the mass of loose vellum pages;
by which exertions I raised such a cloud of fine pungent dust that the
monks relieved each other in holding our only candle at the door, while
the dust made us sneeze incessantly as we turned over the scattered
leaves of vellum. I had extracted four books, the only ones I could
find which seemed to be tolerably perfect, when two monks who were
struggling in the corner pulled out a great big manuscript of a brown
and musty appearance and of prodigious weight, which was tied together
with a cord. "Here is a box!" exclaimed the two monks, who were nearly
choked with the dust; "we have found a box, and a heavy one too!" "A
box!" shouted the blind abbot, who was standing in the outer darkness of
the oil-cellar--"A box! Where is it? Bring it out! bring out the box!
Heaven be praised! We have found a treasure! Lift up the box! Pull out
the box! A box! A box! Sandouk! sandouk!" shouted all the monks in
various tones of voice. "Now then let us see the box! bring it out to
the light!" they cried. "What can there be in it?" and they all came to
help and carried it away up the stairs, the blind abbot following them
to the outer door, leaving me to retrace my steps as I could with the
volumes which I had dug out of their literary grave.
CHAPTER VIII.
View from the Convent Wall--Appearance of the Desert--Its grandeur
and freedom--Its contrast to the Convent Garden--Beauty and
luxuriance of Eastern Vegetation--Picturesque Group of the Monks
and their Visitors--The Abyssinian Monks--Their appearance--Their
austere mode of Life--The Abyssinian College--Description of the
Library--The mode of Writing in Abyssinia--Immense Labour required
to write an Abyssinian book--Paintings and
Illuminations--Disappointment of the Abbot at finding the supposed
Treasure-box only an old Book--Purchase of the MSS. and Books--The
most precious left behind--Since acquired for the British Museum.
On leaving the dark recesses of the tower I paused at the narrow door by
which we had entered, both to accustom my eyes to the glare of the
daylight, and to look at the scene below me. I stood on the top of a
steep flight of stone steps, by which the door of the tower was
approached from the court of the monastery: the steps ran up the inside
of the outer wall, which was of sufficient thickness to allow of a
narrow terrace within the parapet; from this point I could look over the
wall on the left hand upon the desert, whose dusty plains stretched out
as far as I could see, in hot and dreary loneliness to the horizon. To
those who are not familiar with the aspect of such a region as this, it
may be well to explain that a desert such as that which now surrounded
me resembles more than anything else a dusty turnpike-road in England
on a hot summer's day, extended interminably, both as to length and
breadth. A country of low rounded hills, the surface of which is
composed entirely of gravel, dust, and stones, will give a good idea of
the general aspect of a desert. Yet, although parched and dreary in the
extreme from their vastness and openness, there is something grand and
sublime in the silence and loneliness of these burning plains; and the
wandering tribes of Bedouins who inhabit them are seldom content to
remain long in the narrow inclosed confines of cultivated land. There is
always a fresh breeze in the desert, except when the terrible hot wind
blows; and the air is more elastic and pure than where vegetation
produces exhalations which in all hot climates are more or less heavy
and deleterious. The air of the desert is always healthy, and no race of
men enjoy a greater exemption from weakness, sickness, and disease than
the children of the desert, who pass their lives in wandering to and fro
in search of the scanty herbage on which their flocks are fed, far from
the cares and troubles of busy cities, and free from the oppression
which grinds down the half-starved cultivators of the fertile soil of
Egypt.
Whilst from my elevated position I looked out on my left upon the mighty
desert, on my right how different was the scene! There below my feet lay
the convent garden in all the fresh luxuriance of tropical vegetation.
Tufts upon tufts of waving palms overshadowed the immense succulent
leaves of the banana, which in their turn rose out of thickets of the
pomegranate rich with its bright green leaves and its blossoms of that
beautiful and vivid red which is excelled by few even of the most
brilliant flowers of the East. These were contrasted with the deep dark
green of the caroub or locust-tree; and the yellow apples of the lotus
vied with the clusters of green limes with their sweet white flowers
which luxuriated in a climate too hot and sultry for the golden fruit of
the orange, which is not to be met with in the valley of the Nile.
Flowers and fair branches exhaling rich perfume and bearing freshness in
their very aspect became more beautiful from their contrast to the
dreary arid plains outside the convent walls, and this great difference
was owing solely to there being a well of water in this spot from which
a horse or mule was constantly employed to draw the fertilizing streams
which nourished the teeming vegetation of this monastic garden.
I stood gazing and moralizing at these contrasted scenes for some time;
but at length when I turned my eyes upon my companions and myself, it
struck me that we also were somewhat remarkable in our way. First there
was the old blind grey-bearded abbot, leaning on his staff, surrounded
with three or four dark robed Coptic monks, holding in their hands the
lighted candles with which we had explored the secret recesses of the
oil-cellar; there was I dressed in the long robes of a merchant of the
East, with a small book in the breast of my gown and a big one under
each arm; and there were my servants armed to the teeth and laden with
old books; and one and all we were so covered with dirt and wax from top
to toe, that we looked more as if we had been up the chimney than like
quiet people engaged in literary researches. One of the monks was
leaning in a brown study upon the ponderous and gigantic volume in its
primæval binding, in the interior of which the blind abbot had hoped to
find a treasure. Perched upon the battlements of this remote monastery
we formed as picturesque a group as one might wish to see; though
perhaps the begrimed state of our flowing robes as well as of our hands
and faces would render a somewhat remote point of view more agreeable to
the artist than a closer inspection.
While we had been standing on the top of the steps, I had heard from
time to time some incomprehensible sounds which seemed to arise from
among the green branches of the palms and fig-trees in a corner of the
garden at our feet. "What," said I to a bearded Copt, who was seated on
the steps, "is that strange howling noise which I hear among the trees?
I have heard it several times when the rustling of the wind among the
branches has died away for a moment. It sounds something like a chant,
or a dismal moaning song: only it is different in its cadence from
anything that I have heard before." "That noise," replied the monk, "is
the sound of the service of the church which is being chanted by the
Abyssinian monks. Come down the steps and I will show you their chapel
and their library. The monastery which they frequented in this desert
has fallen to decay; and they now live here, their numbers being
recruited occasionally by pilgrims on their way from Abyssinia to
Jerusalem, some of whom pass by each year; not many now, to be sure; but
still fewer return to their own land."
Giving up my precious manuscripts to the guardianship of my servants and
desiring them to put them down carefully in my cell, I accompanied my
Coptic friend into the garden, and turning round some bushes, we
immediately encountered one of the Abyssinian monks walking with a book
in his hand under the shade of the trees. Presently we saw three or four
more; and very remarkable looking persons they were. These holy brethren
were as black as crows; tall, thin, ascetic looking men of a most
original aspect and costume. I have seen the natives of many strange
nations, both before and since, but I do not know that I ever met with
so singular a set of men, so completely the types of another age and of
a state of things the opposite to European, as these Abyssinian
Eremites. They were black, as I have already said, which is not the
usual complexion of the natives of Habesh; and they were all clothed in
tunics of wash leather made, they told me, of gazelle skins. This
garment came down to their knees, and was confined round their waist
with a leathern girdle. Over their shoulders they had a strap supporting
a case like a cartridge-box, of thick brown leather, containing a
manuscript book; and above this they wore a large shapeless cloak or
toga, of the same light yellow wash leather as the tunic; I do not think
that they wore anything on the head, but this I do not distinctly
remember. Their legs were bare, and they had no other clothing, if I may
except a profuse smearing of grease; for they had anointed themselves in
the most lavish manner, not with the oil of gladness, but with that of
castor, which however had by no means the effect of giving them a
cheerful countenance; for although they looked exceedingly slippery and
greasy, they seemed to be an austere and dismal set of fanatics: true
disciples of the great Macarius, the founder of these secluded
monasteries, and excellently calculated to figure in that grim chorus of
his invention, or at least which is called after his name, "La danse
Macabre," known to us by the appellation of the Dance of Death. They
seemed to be men who fasted much and feasted little; great observers
were they of vigils, of penance, of pilgrimages, and midnight masses;
eaters of bitter herbs for conscience' sake. It was such men as these
who lived on the tops of columns, and took up their abodes in tombs, and
thought it was a sign of holiness to look like a wild beast--that it was
wicked to be clean, and superfluous to be useful in this world; and who
did evil to themselves that good might come. Poor fellows! they meant
well, and knew no better; and what more can be said for the endeavours
of the best of men?
Accompanied by a still increasing number of these wild priests we
traversed the shady garden, and came to a building with a flat roof,
which stood in the south-east corner of the enclosure and close to the
outer wall. This was the college or consistory of the Abyssinian monks,
and the accompanying sketch made upon the spot will perhaps explain the
appearance of this room better than any written description. The round
thing upon the floor is a table upon which the dishes of their frugal
meal were set; by the side of this low table we sat upon the ground on
the skin of some great wild beast, which did duty as a carpet. This room
was also their library, and on my remarking the number of books which I
saw around me they seemed proud of their collection, and told me that
there were not many such libraries as this in their country. There were
perhaps nearly fifty volumes, and as the entire literature of Abyssinia
does not include more than double that number of works, I could easily
imagine that what I saw around me formed a very considerable
accumulation of manuscripts, considering the barbarous state of the
country from which they came.
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE ABYSSINIAN LIBRARY, IN THE MONASTERY OF
SOURIANI ON THE NATRON LAKES.
Abyssinian monk clothed in leather.
The dining table.
The blind abbot leaning over the Author.
Abyssinian monk.
Coptic monk.
The books hanging from wooden pegs let into the wall.
The Author's Egyptian servants.]
The disposition of the manuscripts in this library was very original. I
have had no means of ascertaining whether all the libraries of Abyssinia
are arranged in the same style. The room was about twenty-six feet long,
twenty wide, and twelve high; the roof was formed of the trunks of palm
trees, across which reeds were laid, which supported the mass of earth
and plaster, of which the terrace roof was composed; the interior of the
walls was plastered white with lime; the windows, at a good height from
the ground, were unglazed, but were defended with bars of iron-wood or
some other hard wood; the door opened into the garden, and its lock,
which was of wood also, was of that peculiar construction which has been
used in Egypt from time immemorial. A wooden shelf was carried in the
Egyptian style round the walls, at the height of the top of the door,
and on this shelf stood sundry platters, bottles, and dishes for the use
of the community. Underneath the shelf various long wooden pegs
projected from the wall; they were each about a foot and a half long,
and on them hung the Abyssinian manuscripts, of which this curious
library was entirely composed.
The books of Abyssinia are bound in the usual way, sometimes in red
leather and sometimes in wooden boards, which are occasionally
elaborately carved in rude and coarse devices: they are then enclosed
in a case, tied up with leather thongs; to this case is attached a strap
for the convenience of carrying the volume over the shoulders, and by
these straps the books were hung to the wooden pegs, three or four on a
peg, or more if the books were small: their usual size was that of a
small, very thick quarto. The appearance of the room, fitted up in this
style, together with the presence of various long staves, such as the
monks of all the Oriental churches lean upon at the time of prayer,
resembled less a library than a barrack or guard-room, where the
soldiers had hung their knapsacks and cartridge-boxes against the wall.
All the members of this church militant could read fluently out of their
own books, which is more than the Copts could do in whose monastery they
were sojourning. Two or three, with whom I spoke, were intelligent men,
although not much enlightened as to the affairs of this world: the
perfume of their leather garments and oily bodies was, however, rather
too powerful for my olfactory nerves, and after making a slight sketch
of their library I was glad to escape into the open air of the beautiful
garden, where I luxuriated in the shade of the palms and the
pomegranates. The strange costumes and wild appearance of these black
monks, and the curious arrangement of their library, the uncouth sounds
of their singing and howling, and the clash of their cymbals in the
ancient convent of the Natron lakes, formed a scene such as I believe
few Europeans have witnessed.
The labour required to write an Abyssinian book is immense, and
sometimes many years are consumed in the preparation of a single volume.
They are almost all written upon skins; the only one not written upon
vellum that I have met with is in my own possession; it is on charta
bombycina. The ink which they use is composed of gum, lampblack, and
water. It is jet black, and keeps its colour for ever: indeed in this
respect all Oriental inks are infinitely superior to ours, and they have
the additional advantage of not being corrosive or injurious either to
the pen or paper. Their pen is the reed commonly used in the East, only
the nib is made sharper than that which is required to write the Arabic
character. The ink-horn is usually the small end of a cow's horn, which
is stuck into the ground at the feet of the scribe. In the most ancient
Greek frescos and illuminations this kind of ink-horn is the one
generally represented, and it seems to have been usually inserted in a
hole in the writing-desk: no writing-desk, however, is in use among the
children of Habesh. Seated upon the ground, the square piece of thick
greasy vellum is held upon the knee or on the palm of the left hand.
The Abyssinian alphabet consists of 8 times 26 letters, 208 characters
in all, and these are each written distinctly and separately like the
letters of an European printed book. They have no cursive writing; each
letter is therefore painted, as it were, with the reed pen, and as the
scribe finishes each he usually makes a horrible face and gives a
triumphant flourish with his pen. Thus he goes on letter by letter, and
before he gets to the end of the first line he is probably in a
perspiration from his nervous apprehension of the importance of his
undertaking. One page is a good day's work, and when he has done it he
generally, if he is not too stiff, follows the custom of all little Arab
boys, and swings his head or his body from side to side, keeping time to
a sort of nasal recitative, without the help of which it would seem that
few can read even a chapter of the Koran, although they may know it by
heart.
Some of these manuscripts are adorned with the quaintest and grimmest
illuminations conceivable. The colours are composed of various ochres.
In general the outlines of the figures are drawn first with the pen. The
paint brush is made by chewing the end of a reed till it is reduced to
filaments and then nibbling it into a proper form: the paint brushes of
the ancient Egyptians were made in the same way, and excellent brooms
for common purposes are made at Cairo by beating the thick end of a
palm-branch till the fibres are separated from the pith, the part above,
which is not beaten, becoming the handle of the broom. The Abyssinian
having nibbled and chewed his reed till he thinks it will do, proceeds
to fill up the spaces between the inked outlines with his colours. The
Blessed Virgin is usually dressed in blue; the complexion of the figures
is a brownish red, and those in my possession have a curious cast of the
eyes, which gives them a very cunning look. St John, in a MS. which I
have now before me, is represented with woolly hair, and has two marks
or gashes on each side of his face, in accordance with the Abyssinian or
Galla custom of cutting through the skin of the face, breast, and arms,
so as to leave an indelible mark. This is done in youth, and is said to
preserve the patient from several diseases. The colours are mixed up
with the yolk of an egg, and the numerous mistakes and slips of the
brush are corrected by a wipe from a wet finger or thumb, which is
generally kept ready in the artist's mouth during the operation; and it
is lucky if he does not give it a bite in the agony of composition, when
with an unsteady hand the eye of some famous saint is smeared all over
the nose by an unfortunate swerve of the nibbled reed.
It is not often, however, that the arts of drawing and painting are thus
ruthlessly mangled on the pages of their books, and notwithstanding the
disadvantages under which the writers labour, some of these manuscripts
are beautifully written, and are worthy of being compared with the best
specimens of calligraphy in any language. I have a MS. containing the
book of Enoch, and several books of the Old Testament, which is
remarkable for the perfection of its writing, the straightness of the
lines, and the equal size and form of the characters throughout:
probably many years were required to finish it. The binding is of wooden
boards, not sawn or planed, but chopped apparently out of a tree or a
block of hard wood, a task of patience and difficulty which gives
evidence of the enthusiasm and goodwill which have been displayed in the
production of a work, in toiling upon which the pious man in the
simplicity of his heart doubtless considered that he was labouring for
the honour of the church, _ad majorem Dei gloriam_. It was this feeling
which in the middle ages produced all those glorious works of art which
are the admiration of modern times, and its total absence now is deeply
to be deplored in our own country.
Having satiated my curiosity as to the Abyssinian monks and their
curious library, I returned to my own room, where I was presently joined
by the abbot and his companion, who came for the promised bottle of
rosoglio, which they now required the more to keep up their spirits on
finding that the box of treasure was only a large old book. They
murmured and talked to themselves between the cups of rosoglio, and so
great was their disappointment that it was some time before they
recovered the equilibrium of their minds. "You found no treasure," I
remarked, "but I am a lover of old books; let me have the big one which
you thought was a box and the others which I have brought out with me,
and I will give you a certain number of piastres in exchange. By this
arrangement we shall be both of us contented, for the money will be
useful to you, and I should be glad to carry away the books as a
memorial of my visit to this interesting spot." "Ah!" said the abbot.
"Another cup of rosoglio," said I; "help yourself." "How much will you
give?" asked the abbot. "How much do you want?" said I; "all the money I
have with me is at your service." "How much is that?" he inquired. Out
came the bag of money, and the agreeable sound of the clinking of the
pieces of gold or dollars, I forget which they were, had a soothing
effect upon the nerves of the blind man, and in short the bottle and the
bargain were concluded at the same moment.
The Coptic and Syriac manuscripts were stowed away in one side of a
great pair of saddle-bags. "Now," said I, "we will put these in the
other side, and you shall take it out and see the Arabs place it on the
camel." We could not by any packing or shifting get all the books into
the bag, and the two monks would not let me make another parcel, lest,
as I understood, the rest of the brethren should discover what it was,
and claim their share of the spoil. In this dreadful dilemma I looked at
each of the books, not knowing which to leave behind, but seeing that
the quarto was the most imperfect, I abandoned it, and I have now reason
to believe, on seeing the manuscripts of the British Museum, that this
was the famous book with the date of A.D. 411, the most precious
acquisition to any library that has been made in modern times, with the
exception, as I conceive, of some in my own collection. It is, however,
a satisfaction to think that this book, which contains some lost
epistles of St. Ignatius, has not been thrown away, but has fallen into
better hands than mine.
THE CONVENT OF THE PULLEY.
CHAPTER IX.
The Convent of the Pulley--Its inaccessible position--Difficult
landing on the bank of the Nile--Approach to the Convent through
the Rocks--Description of the Convent and its Inhabitants--Plan of
the Church--Books and MSS.--Ancient excavations--Stone Quarries and
ancient Tombs--Alarm of the Copts--Their ideas of a Sketch-book.
The Coptic monasteries were usually built in desert or inaccessible
places, with a view to their defence in troubled times, or in the hope
of their escaping the observation of marauding parties, who were not
likely to take the trouble of going much out of their way unless they
had assured hopes of finding something better worth sacking than a poor
convent. The access to Der el Adra, the Convent of the Virgin, more
commonly known by the name of the Convent of the Pulley, is very
singular. This monastery is situated on the top of the rocks of Gebel el
terr, where a precipice above 200 feet in height is washed at its base
by the waters of the Nile. When I visited this monastery on the 19th of
February, 1838, there was a high wind, which rendered the management of
my immense boat, above 80 feet long, somewhat difficult; and we were
afraid of being dashed against the rocks if we ventured too near them in
our attempt to land at the foot of the precipice. The monks, who were
watching our manœuvres from above, all at once disappeared, and
presently several of them made their appearance on the shore, issuing in
a complete state of nudity from a cave or cleft in the face of the rock.
These worthy brethren jumped one after another into the Nile, and
assisted the sailors to secure the boat with ropes and anchors from the
force of the wind. They swam like Newfoundland dogs, and, finding that
it was impossible for the boat to reach the land, two of the reverend
gentlemen took me on their shoulders and, wading through a shallow part
of the river, brought me safely to the foot of the rock. When we got
there I could not perceive any way to ascend to the monastery, but,
following the abbot, I scrambled over the broken rocks to the entrance
of the cave. This was a narrow fissure where the precipice had been
split by some convulsion of nature, the opening being about the size of
the inside of a capacious chimney. The abbot crept in at a hole at the
bottom: he was robed in a long dark blue shirt, the front of which he
took up and held in his teeth; and, telling me to observe where he
placed his feet, he began to climb up the cleft with considerable
agility. A few preliminary lessons from a chimney-sweep would now have
been of the greatest service to me; but in this branch of art my
education had been neglected, and it was with no small difficulty that
I climbed up after the abbot, whom I saw striding and sprawling in the
attitude of a spread eagle above my head. My slippers soon fell off upon
the head of a man under me, whom, on looking down, I found to be the
reis, or captain of my boat, whose immense turban formed the whole of
his costume. At least twenty men were scrambling and puffing underneath
him, most of them having their clothes tied in a bundle on their heads,
where they had secured them when they swam or waded to the shore. Arms
and legs were stretched out in all manner of attitudes, the forms of the
more distant climbers being lost in the gloom of the narrow cavern up
which we were advancing, the procession being led by the unrobed
ecclesiastics. Having climbed up about 120 feet, we emerged in a fine
perspiration upon a narrow ledge of the rock on the face of the
precipice, which had an unpleasant slope towards the Nile. It was as
slippery as glass; and I felt glad that I had lost my shoes, as I had a
firmer footing without them. We turned to the right, and climbing a
projection of the rock seven or eight feet high--rather a nervous
proceeding at such a height to those who were unaccustomed to it--we
gained a more level space, from which a short steep pathway brought us
to the top of the precipice, whence I looked down with much
self-complacency upon my companion who was standing on the deck of the
vessel.
The convent stands about two hundred paces to the north of the place
where we ascended. It had been originally built of small square stones
of Roman workmanship; but, having fallen into decay, it had been
repaired with mud and sunburnt bricks. Its ground plan was nearly a
square, and its general appearance outside was that of a large pound or
a small kitchen garden, the walls being about 20 feet high and each side
of the square extending about 200 feet, without any windows or
architectural decoration. I entered by a low doorway on the side towards
the cliff, and found myself in a yard of considerable size full of
cocks, hens, women, and children, who were all cackling and talking
together at the top of their shrill voices. A large yellow-coloured dog,
who was sleeping in the sunshine in the midst of all this din, was
awakened by its cessation as I entered. He greeted my arrival with a
growl, upon which he was assailed with a volley of stones and invectives
by the ladies whom he had intended to protect. Every man, woman, and
child came out to have a peep at the stranger, but when my numerous
followers, many in habiliments of the very slightest description,
crowded into the court, the ladies took fright, and there was a general
rush into the house, the old women hiding their faces without a moment's
delay, but the younger ones taking more time in the adjustment of their
veils. When peace was in some measure restored, and the poor dog had
been pelted into a hole, the abbot, who had now permitted his long shirt
to resume its usual folds, conducted me to the church, which was
speedily filled with the crowd. It was interesting from its great
antiquity, having been founded, as they told me, by a rich lady of the
name of Halané, who was the daughter of a certain Kostandi, king of
Roum. The church is partly subterranean, being built in the recesses of
an ancient stone-quarry; the other parts of it are of stone plastered
over. The roof is flat and is formed of horizontal beams of palm trees,
upon which a terrace of reeds and earth is laid. The height of the
interior is about 25 feet. On entering the door we had to descend a
flight of narrow steps, which led into a side aisle about ten feet wide,
and which is divided from the nave by octagon columns of great thickness
supporting the walls of a sort of clerestory. The columns were
surmounted by heavy square plinths almost in the Egyptian style.
As I consider this church to be interesting from its being half a
catacomb, or cave, and one of the earliest Christian buildings which has
preserved its originality, I subjoin a plan of it, by which it will be
seen that it is constructed on the principle of a Latin basilica, as the
buildings of the Empress Helena usually were; the Byzantine style of
architecture, the plan of which partook of the form of a Greek cross,
being a later invention; for the earliest Christian churches were not
cruciform, and seldom had transepts, nor were they built with any
reference to the points of the compass.[8]
[Illustration: Plan of the church, the convent of the Pulley.
1. Altar.
2. Apsis, apparently cut out of the rock.
3. Two Corinthian columns.
4. Wooden partitions of lattice-work, about 10 ft. high.
5. Steps leading up to the sanctuary.
6. Two three-quarter columns.
7. Eight columns.[6]
8. Dark room cut out of the rock (there is another corresponding to it
under the steps).[7]
9. Steps leading down into the church.
10. Screen before the Altar.]
The ancient divisions of the church are also more strictly preserved in
this edifice than in the churches of the West; the priests or monks
standing above the steps (marked No. 5), the celebrant of the sacrament
only going behind the screen (No. 10); the bulk of the congregation
stand, there are no seats below the steps (No. 5), and the place for the
women is behind the screen marked No. 4. The church is very dimly
lighted by small apertures in the walls of the clerestory, above the
columns, and the part about the apsis is nearly dark in the middle of
the day, candles being always necessary during the reading of the
service. The two Corinthian columns are of brick, plastered; they are
not fluted, but are of good proportions and appear to be original. The
apsis is of regular Grecian or Roman architecture, and is ornamented
with six pilasters, and three niches in which are kept the books,
cymbals, candlesticks, and other things which are used for the daily
service. Here I found twenty-three manuscript books, fifteen in Coptic
with Arabic translations, for the Coptic language is now understood by
few, and eight Arabic manuscripts. The Coptic books were all liturgies:
one of them, a folio, was ornamented with a large illumination, intended
to represent the Virgin and the infant Saviour; it is almost the only
specimen of Coptic art that I ever met with in a book, and its style and
execution are so poor, that, perhaps, it is fortunate that they should
be so rare. The Arabic books, which, as well as the Coptic, were all on
cotton-paper, consisted of extracts from the New Testament and lives of
the saints.
I had been told that there was a great chest bound with iron, which was
kept in a vault in this monastery, full of ancient books on vellum, and
which was not to be opened without the consent of the Patriarch; I
could, however, make out nothing of this story, but it does not follow
that this chest of ancient manuscripts does not exist; for, surrounded
as I was by crowds of gaping Copts and Arabs, I could not expect the
abbot to be very communicative; and they have from long oppression
acquired such a habit of denying the fact of their having anything in
their possession, that, perhaps, there may still be treasures here which
some future traveller may discover.
While I was turning over the books, the contents of which I was able to
decypher, from the similarity of the Coptic to the Greek alphabet, the
people were very much astonished at my erudition, which appeared to them
almost miraculous. They whispered to each other, and some said I must be
a foreign Copt, who had returned to the land of his fathers. They asked
my servant all manner of questions; but when he told them that he did
not believe I knew a word of Coptic, their astonishment was increased to
fear. I must be a magician, they said, and some kept a sharp look-out
for the door, to which there was an immediate rush when I turned round.
The whole assembly were puzzled, for in their simplicity they were not
aware that people sometimes pore over books, and read them too, without
understanding them, in other languages besides Coptic.
We emerged from the subterranean church, which, being half sunk in the
earth and surrounded by buildings, had nothing remarkable in its
exterior architecture, and ascended to the terrace on the roof of the
convent, whence we had a view of numerous ancient stone quarries in the
desert to the east. They appeared to be of immense extent; the convent
itself and two adjoining burial-grounds were all ensconced in the
ancient limestone excavations.
I am inclined to think, that although all travellers in Egypt pass along
the river below this convent, few have visited its interior. It is now
more a village than a monastery, properly speaking, as it is inhabited
by numerous Coptic families who are not connected with the monks. These
poor people were so surprised at my appearance, and watched all my
actions with such intense curiosity, that I imagine they had scarcely
ever seen a stranger before. They crowded every place where I was likely
to pass, staring and gaping, and chattering to each other. Being much
pressed with the throng in the court-yard, I made a sudden spring
towards one of the little girls who was foremost in the crowd, uttering
a shout at the same time as if I was going to seize her as she stood
gazing open-mouthed at me. She screamed and tumbled down with fright,
and the whole multitude of women and children scampered off as fast as
their legs could carry them. Some fell down, others tumbled over them,
making an indescribable confusion; but being reassured by the laughter
of my party, they soon stopped and began laughing and talking with
greater energy than before. At length I took refuge in the room of the
superior, who gave me some coffee, with spices in it; and soon
afterwards I took leave of this singular community.
We walked to some quarries about two miles off to the north-east, which
well repaid our visit The rocks were cut into the most extraordinary
forms. There were several grottos, and also an ancient tomb with
hieroglyphics sculptured on the rock. Among these I saw the names of
Rameses II. and some other kings. Near this tomb is a large tablet on
which is a bas-relief of a king making an offering to a deity with the
head of a crocodile, whose name, according to Wilkinson, was Savak: he
was worshipped at Ombos and Thebes, but was held in such small respect
at Dendera that the inhabitants of that place made war upon the men of
Ombos, and ate one of their prisoners, in emulation probably of the god
he worshipped. Indeed, they appear to have considered the inhabitants of
that city to have been a sort of vermin which it was incumbent upon all
sensible Egyptians to destroy whenever they had an opportunity.
In one place among the quarries a large rock has been left standing by
itself with two apertures, like doorways, cut through it, giving it the
resemblance of a propylon or the front of a house. It is not more than
ten feet thick, although it is eighty or ninety feet long, and fifty
high. Near it a huge slab projects horizontally from the precipice,
supported at its outer edge by a single column. Some of the Copts, whose
curiosity appeared to be insatiable, had followed us to these quarries,
for the mere pleasure of staring at us. One of them, observing me making
a sketch, came and peeped over my shoulder. "This Frank," said he to his
friends, "has got a book that eats all these stones, and our monastery
besides." "Ah!" said the other, "I suppose there are no stones in his
country, so he wants to take some of ours away to show his countrymen
what fine things we have here in Egypt; there is no place like Egypt,
after all. Mashallah!"
RUINED MONASTERY AT THEBES.
CHAPTER X.
Ruined Monastery in the Necropolis of Thebes--"Mr. Hay's Tomb"--The
Coptic Carpenter--His acquirements and troubles--He agrees to show
the MSS. belonging to the ruined Monastery, which are under his
charge--Night visit to the Tomb in which they are concealed--Perils
of the way--Description of the Tomb--Probably in former times a
Christian Church--Examination of the Coptic MSS.--Alarming
interruption--Hurried flight from the Evil Spirits--Fortunate
escape--Appearance of the Evil Spirit--Observations on Ghost
Stories--The Legend of the Old Woman of Berkeley considered.
On a rocky hill, perforated on all sides by the violated sepulchres of
the ancient Egyptians, in the great Necropolis of Thebes, not far from
the ruins of the palace and temple of Medinet Habou, stand the crumbling
walls of an old Coptic monastery, which I was told had been inhabited,
almost within the memory of man, by a small community of Christian
monks. I was living at this period in a tomb, which was excavated in the
side of the precipice, above Sheick Abd el Gournoo. It had been rendered
habitable by some slight alterations, and a little garden was made on
the terrace in front of it, whence the view was very remarkable. The
whole of the vast ruins of Thebes were stretched out below it; whilst,
beyond the mighty Nile, the huge piles of Luxor and Carnac loomed dark
and mysterious in the distance, which was bounded by the arid chain of
the Arabian mountains, the outline of their wild tops showing clear and
hard against the cloudless sky. This habitation was known by the name of
"Mr. Hay's tomb." The memory of this gentleman is held in the highest
honour and reverence by the villagers of the surrounding districts, who
look back to the time of his residence among them as the only
satisfactory period of their miserable existence.
One of the numerous admirers of Mr. Hay, among the poorer inhabitants of
the neighbourhood, was a Coptic carpenter, a man of no small natural
genius and talent, who in any other country would have risen above the
sphere of his comrades if any opportunity of distinguishing himself had
offered. He could read and write Coptic and Arabic; he had some
knowledge of astronomy, and some said of magic also; and he was a very
tolerable carpenter, although the only tools which he was able to
procure were of the roughest sort. In all these accomplishments he was
entirely self-taught; while his poverty was such that his costume
consisted of nothing but a short shirt, or tunic, made of a homespun
fabric of goat's hair, or wool, and a common felt skull-cap, with some
rags twisted round it for a turban. With higher acquirements than the
governor of the district, the poor Copt was hardly able to obtain bread
to eat; and indeed it was only from the circumstance of his being a
Christian that he and the other males of his family were not swept away
in the conscription which has depopulated Egypt under the present
government more than all the pillage and massacres and internal feuds of
the followers of the Mameluke Beys.
On those numerous occasions when the carpenter had nothing else to do,
he used to come and talk to me; and endeavour to count up, upon his
fingers, how often he had "_eat stick_;" that is, had been beaten by one
Turkish officer or another for his inability to pay the tax to the
Pasha, the tooth-money to some kawass, the forced contribution to the
Nazir, or some other expected or unexpected call up
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