Visit to the Governor of Cairo. Court of the Mamelukes. Their massacre. Schools in the Citadel. Court of Justice. Palace of the Pasha. View from it. The “City of Tombs.” A human monster. Plain of Memphis. Heliopolis. Mosque of the bloody baptism. Joseph’s Well. Mint. Manufactory of Arms. The Citadel. “The Lions.”

Early in the morning of the 21st we found the grooms with our horses in the court below, and after breakfast mounted for a visit of ceremony to the Abdi Effendi, the governor of the city. The carriage was waiting in an adjoining bazaar, where it had been compelled to stop by the narrowness of the streets; and here our cavalcade was formed in the following order: 1. Two Cavasses; 2. The carriage; 3. Eight Cavasses; 4. Two Chaouishes; 5. A Master of the Horse; 6. Dragoman; next the Commodore and Consul, and after them the remaining officers of the party. Having traversed the whole length of the city, we began, near its southern outskirts, to ascend, and presently found ourselves before the frowning walls of the citadel of Cairo. Here, in this strong eyrie, well guarded both by nature and art, the Pasha of Egypt has built his palace, and gathered his treasures, and formed his arsenal for arms. The citadel stands on a spur from the range of Kebel Mokattam, the mountains that, stretching along on the East, help to form the valley of the Nile. Here they make a bend and stretch off far to the eastward; and at the angle, on an irregular platform thrown off from it, the citadel was built, or at least enlarged to its present dimensions, in the 12th century, by the famous Saladin. It is a place of great strength, and may be considered as the key of all the upper parts of Egypt. On passing the heavy exterior gateway, we found ourselves in the court, where, twenty-five years ago, by order of Mohammed Ali, was perpetrated the bloody massacre of the Mamelukes. It is of irregular shape, with high walls on one side, and on the others steep ascents or precipices, surmounted by ramparts, above which again are heavy buildings, and among them the ruins of Saladin’s palace. It was a place well chosen for such a butchery, and the whole plan of operations was strikingly characteristic of the man.

It will, perhaps, be recollected by the reader that the Mamelukes, as a distinct body, owed their origin to Saladin, who, distrusting his native troops, formed a body-guard of slaves, procured by purchase or capture from the countries bordering on the Caspian. They rose gradually under successive sultans, and all the fortresses at length being trusted to them, they concluded to turn the power to their own use, and through their Beys became the governors of Egypt. Various, after this, were their changes of fortune; the hardy soldiers, being generally successful in the field, but circumvented by their cunning adversaries in the council-room. The French found in them most obstinate and determined opposers; and when, at the close of this war, the British arms were triumphant, Lord Hutchinson demanded of the Sultan of Constantinople, to whom the country was yielded, the restitution of the Mamelukes to their former privileges. He promised compliance, but had determined on the extinction of this race of dangerous subjects. The Turkish admiral, who was sent for this purpose, first enticed a great number of them to a pleasure excursion in boats off Aboukir, and his ships opening fire upon them, the greater portion were destroyed. War with their race being thus declared, Mohammed Ali, then first rising into notice, was sent with a force against them, but was defeated and compelled to retreat. This was the origin of the inveteracy of Mohammed Ali towards the Mamelukes.

On the invasion of Egypt by the English in 1807, the Beys united with the rising Pasha; but it was only a momentary truce; and the defeat of the English, giving him secure possession of Egypt, sealed at the same time the fate of his too trustful allies. He immediately formed a plan for the total destruction of the Mamelukes. His son Tousson was about this time preparing to lead an army against the Wahabees, and as this was a religious war, it was determined to invest him with the command under circumstances of unusual splendor. The Mameluke Beys were invited to the ceremony, which was to commence in the citadel. They came, led by their chief, Chahyn Bey; and a more splendid cavalcade never filed in through the portals of this fortress. They amounted to 470 men, on horseback, together with about an equal number of attendants of the same race on foot. Their reception was flattering. The Pasha addressed them individually, and with a bland aspect and smiles, welcomed them to the festivities. At length it was necessary to form a procession, and the Mamelukes were honored by being put in a body near the head of it: they filed down and entered this rocky court; but when their whole body had gained it, the gates were suddenly shut both in front and rear, and they found themselves cruelly entrapped. The heights above were in a moment covered with the Pasha’s soldiers, and a deadly fire was poured down on them. Rage and execration were in vain: they were coolly shot down till not an individual remained alive. One of the Beys escaped by spurring his horse up the steep outer wall; in the descent the animal was dashed to pieces, but the rider was unhurt.

This was the end of the Mamelukes. On the following day the soldiers rushed into the city, and under pretext of searching for more victims, plundered a large part of it before the Pasha and his son durst venture out to repress their fury.

Our horses, on reaching this bloody court, seemed themselves to be seized with the very spirit of violence; for pricking their ears, they rushed up the steep ascent with headlong speed, and, whirling through Saladin’s court, and then through a larger one, brought us up at length in front of the governor’s palace. It is a long building and spacious, but is otherwise by no means remarkable. Abdi Effendi has been in England and France, and speaks the language of the latter country fluently. He received us with great politeness, and entertained us with the usual eastern hospitalities. His questions with regard to our own country were pertinent, and evinced a good knowledge of its laws and institutions. He spoke in terms of high admiration of his own sovereign; and indeed Mohammed Ali seems to have the faculty of creating a strong attachment for himself in all his officers. The governor said that if the Pasha could live twenty years longer, he would make Egypt more civilized and more prosperous than it has ever yet been; but added, that he stood all alone, and greatly needed some one who could be a second self to him.

From the audience-hall we were taken to visit a number of schools in the same building; they occupy a number of rooms, and contained altogether four hundred youths, preparing for public employments in the country. As far as I could judge, they seemed to be awkwardly conducted. At the extreme end of the building we came to the Hall of Justice, where, on an ottoman and all alone, sat the judge, a man of prodigious corporeal dimensions. He was at this time unemployed, but our attention was drawn to a new mat with which the floor was covered. It had just been put down in place of one that, a few days before, had been worn through by the writhings of a poor wretch, who had been bastinadoed here; the punishment having followed close on the heels, if not of justice, at least of the culprit.

The adjoining side of the court into which this palace looks, is formed by a large palace of Mohammed Ali, to which, in the course of sight-seeing, we were next conducted. It is quite new, and in some parts not quite finished; and is more remarkable for the airy and spacious character of the rooms than for any beauties of architecture. Indeed, all the palaces which we visited in Egypt, though cool and spacious, are marked by great simplicity. A hall of great width passes across at the centre of the building, and is intersected by another of somewhat narrower dimensions, running lengthwise; and thus at each angle a chamber is formed. These chambers are carpeted, and have the most luxurious ottomans passing quite around. These, with sometimes a glass lustre suspended from the lofty ceiling, constitute the only furniture. In the palace, which we were now visiting, the ottomans were covered with the richest French silks, with raised figures in beautiful patterns worked on them. In front of the seats hung down an impenetrable veil of silken tassels.

And now let us rest ourselves for a while on these tempting seats, here by these lofty windows, from which we may look down over all the wide-spread landscape. The ladies of the Commodore’s family have gone to visit the Sultana, and it will be some time before they return; and a better place for a view over all the city and the country beyond, we could not desire. The palace is built on the highest part of the citadel, and enjoys, indeed, a very extensive prospect, and even at this sultry hour we are here fanned by a delightful breeze.

There, look below where the mountains of Mokattam turn off towards the east, you see between them and the city a great number of buildings of remarkable and light Saracenic architecture, standing alone on the sandy waste. This is “The city of Tombs;” the burying-place of the nobles of modern Cairo. Many of these edifices, consisting, as you perceive, of domes supported, by tall slender columns, are the tombs of the Mamelukes when their race was in power; but there you observe one larger than all the rest, surmounted by three domes, and remarkable for its light but rich style of architecture; that is the Mausoleum belonging to the family of Mohammed Ali. Its three chambers are enriched with tombs of Italian marble, and their marble floors are covered with Persian or Turkey carpets. Some of his wives and two of his children are buried here; and every Friday (the Moslem sabbath) their tombs are covered with Cashmere shawls. Here lies also buried the infant daughter of Ibrahim Pasha, taken off in innocent childhood; and close by is the recently interred body of Defterden Bey, a very tiger in cruelty, and as vile a monster as has ever lived. He was sent to this country when it was still subject to the Sultan, to watch the Pasha and collect the revenue of his master at Constantinople: but it is supposed that a large part of it went no further than his own pockets; for in a short time he grew immensely rich. He was, indeed, at length inferior in wealth only to the Pasha himself. He owned the garden in which the brave Kleber was assassinated. He was often in power; and his favorite mode of punishment was to bury the criminal up to his neck in quick-lime, and thus leave him to perish. On one occasion, his farrier having neglected to shoe a favorite horse according to his directions, he ordered the shoes to be nailed to the feet of the smith himself. The man died in a few hours in the greatest agonies.

On another occasion, when the Pasha’s son Ishmael had been treacherously burnt in his tent in upper Egypt, Defterden Bey was sent to examine into the affair and punish the culprits. He called the inhabitants of the district together, to the number of 10,000, and in revenge burnt them all to death, including women and children; and then plundered the country.

He kept a pet lion, which by some means or other he had attached or awed into gentleness to himself; and one of his amusements consisted in throwing meat to the animal, and then ordering his attendants to take it away; on which the animal often flew at them and tore them to pieces.

This is only a portion of the inhuman acts, of which he was guilty; but, the earth at last grew weary of the monster; and his royal master seems to have grown weary of him also; for one day, after drinking coffee with the Pasha, he went home, was immediately taken sick, and died. Mohammed Ali seized on his immense property, and then honored the body by a burial place in his own tomb.

But observe now that river, how peacefully it glides along, unceasing in its flow, and ever distributing comfort and happiness to the dense population along its banks. Such are Heaven’s dealings to us. What a contrast to this has ever been presented here in men’s dealings towards each other. Say, is man still in the image of his maker?

Our eyes glance on the other side of the river, over the site of Memphis. The western mountains there recede about eight miles from the stream, and it is supposed that the whole of this was covered by its magnificent temples and its dwellings; now the very site of it is disputed by some persons; at all events its ruin is so complete, that objects can no longer be distinguished. Just below it is the Plain of Mummies, still tenanted, as it has been for ages, by forms of human beings that move not and speak not. Men there are at peace with each other. Over this well-peopled but silent city of the dead, we see the small Pyramids of Sakhara: and further down, at a distance of six or eight miles, arise the stupendous structures, the Pyramids of Ghizeh. I have never looked at them without a feeling of awe.

Between us and them, on the western bank of the river, is the little village of Ghizeh, from which they take their modern name; and still nearer to us, on the eastern bank, is the village of Old Cairo, now worthy of note only as the port for boats from upper Egypt. Between it and the larger city of its name you are noticing some hillocks, that seem remarkable objects on this level plain. They are composed of pottery and other rubbish from the city; and your memory will supply you with another example of such hillocks in the neighborhood of Rome. In the latter city the merchants have dug into the base, and formed wine-cellars, which are said to answer admirably well. Near these of old Cairo is also an ancient aqueduct, a fine looking object on the landscape, but useless, as it is now in ruins.

And now look directly north, about eight miles, and you see—no, you cannot see a solitary pillar standing on the open and deserted plain. There is not even a vestige of a ruin near it; and yet there stood in ancient times the great and the learned, as well as the splendid, city of Heliopolis, or “The City of the Sun.” It was of vast extent, and had many large temples; among them one dedicated to the sun, with a mirror so disposed as, during the whole day, to reflect the rays of that luminary into the body of the edifice. Thither came the scholars of ancient times to drink from the streams of knowledge; there Herodotus acquired his lore; and, above all, there Plato studied; and there, too, it is supposed that Moses “was taught in all the learning of the Egyptians.” But neither grandeur nor knowledge itself could avail to save it; and of its many splendid structures, but a single column remains to mark its site.

But here at our feet is Cairo, teeming with life, and with the human passions all at work; and yet it seems like a city of the dead. We hear no sound, no cry; life seems to be stagnant there; but it is not. The surface is not greatly ruffled, but beneath it the passions are fermenting: who shall follow them in their various changes and their devious windings? But we will not philosophise. Here, just below us, is the mosque of Sultan Hassan; and, as our time is short, we will hasten to occupy ourselves with its singular history; a history that has a strong dash of the Arabian Nights, and yet is solemn truth, that may be told in open day. This is the largest, and in its architecture the most imposing mosque in Cairo. It is massy, and ornamented with heavy mouldings; and though of the Saracenic style, is a solid and substantial building. And now for its history.

About two centuries ago lived Sultan Hassan, a sovereign prosperous and beloved, but withal somewhat eccentric. He had every thing to make him contented, but there rose up in him, by and by, a strong desire to travel. He longed to see foreign lands; to study the living world; to hear the sages of other climes; and, if possible, to turn philosopher himself. The royalty that acted as a barrier to the gratification of his wishes, became at length odious to him, and he determined for a while to lay it aside, and to travel as a private individual. He sent, therefore, for his prime minister or Vizier, and after a confidential interview, delivered to him in trust, during the sovereign’s absence, the sceptre of honor and the throne of state. He himself left the kingdom, and all traces of him were speedily lost. He now assumed the appearance of a merchant, and under this character travelled through many and far distant lands. He went wherever curiosity enticed him, toiling on from place to place, in hopes that at each it would still its unquiet yearnings and be satisfied; he studied man in every variety of character; he conversed with the wise men of every country, and at length he became a wise man himself, which was evinced by a resolution to return forthwith and be contented at home. Curiosity, he found, only gathered strength by each gratification; the world and its notions were a greater puzzle to him than at the beginning; and what little he knew of them, made him afraid to examine further; and as to wisdom itself, he found it every where less valued than money, and was astonished to see even himself, by and by, deserting the pursuit of it for the pursuit of wealth. He was rapidly successful in his dealings, and grew very rich; and now, ending where he had begun in his boyhood, with believing that Egypt was the best and happiest country in the world, he set out forthwith on his return.

But a disappointment awaited him. His faithless Vizier, concluding that the power which he found so agreeable for a short time, would be agreeable through life, had established himself firmly on the throne; and the old Sultan, on reaching the confines of his country, found that the very name of Hassan had been interdicted to his people, and that he was apparently forgotten. He kept his disguise, and, safe in the changes which time and exposure, and a long beard had wrought on his face, he travelled on, and found himself at length once more in Cairo. The wealthy merchant soon had many friends, and his business continuing to prosper, he applied by and by for permission to erect a mosque, as an act of thanksgiving to Allah for his numerous favors. The request was granted, and the foundations of this mosque, closely adjoining the citadel, were laid with the usual ceremonies. Under pretext of strengthening the edifice in so unstable a soil, he laid the groundwork strong and deep, and secured it moreover with numerous arches or vaults. The building rose, and the populace came in multitudes to look at the huge edifice and praise the piety of the liberal-handed merchant, who before long found that he had established a throne, at least in the hearts of the people. He was aiming, however, at a more substantial throne. He had by this time filled the deep vaults with men, whom by liberal pay he had engaged to wait there for his bidding, and whom he daily practised with the scimitar, till there was not one among them who could not at a blow sever without disarranging the light tuft of down, the acme of a Turkish swordsman’s ambition. The edifice was finished, and a grand building, as you perceive, it really is; and the new courtiers, in their way back and forth between the palace and the city, stopped to applaud the zeal of the pious merchant; nor dreamed for a moment of the pandemonium beneath. It is customary when a mosque is consecrated to give it also a name; and this having now been finished, a day was appointed for these ceremonies; and as the edifice was so highly ornamental to the city, the Sultan himself consented to grace the occasion with his presence. He came with a great retinue of courtiers and a line of guards; and splendid indeed was the scene within the proud and stately edifice. The merchant himself was placed in a conspicuous and an honorable station. The ceremony commenced, and the prayers were said; and the Mufti at length, turning to the merchant, bade him pronounce the name by which his pious offering to Allah should be known. He rose from his seat, and while all leaned forward to catch the sound, he replied, “Call it Sultan Hassan.” The multitude started as if each had been bitten by a serpent, and the Mufti grew pale; but recovering himself, demanded if he had heard him aright. “Yes,” he cried, as a curtain rose at one end and disclosed the name in large letters of gold: “call it by my name, by that of your sovereign, Sultan Hassan;” and at the words, his myrmidons, who had been led up from the vaults and distributed through the church, falling on the astonished usurper and his train, put them all to the sword. From thence they rushed to the citadel, of which they got possession; and before the sun went down, Sultan Hassan was once more proclaimed sovereign of Egypt.

Such was the history of this building, as it was narrated to us on the spot. One of the Cavasses offered to show me the interior if I would disguise myself like a Turk; but as I felt no disposition to put my own neck to hazard in this mosque of the bloody baptism, I satisfied myself with looking at the outer walls.

Close adjoining it are some lions, however, which are worthy of a visit. They are just from the deserts, and are very different from the abused and broken-spirited animals exhibited in our country and in Europe. They are confined in a room of no great dimensions, and are fastened only by a chain attached to the wall; and if any man, who calls himself one of the lords of creation, would meditate on the justice of his vaunted title, I would advise him to go and do it in this den of lions.

The ladies of our party returned, after an absence of about an hour, greatly delighted with their visit; they were, I believe, the first foreign ladies ever permitted to enter this part of the palace, and were allowed to depart only on the promise of a longer visit as soon as circumstances would admit.

From the Pasha’s palace we proceeded to visit “Joseph’s Well,” a deep pit for supplying the citadel with water, dug, however, not by the Joseph of our Scriptures, but by Saladin, whose name, I believe, was also Yousef or Joseph. It consists of two shafts, the upper about 150 feet in depth and 45 in diameter, with a winding gallery around, separated from the shaft by a wall pierced with openings for the admission of light. This is all cut out of the solid rock. The lower shaft is about 120 feet in depth, making altogether 270 feet. The water is raised to the top of the first shaft by means of oxen, and poured into a reservoir, whence it is carried up in a similar manner to a reservoir in the citadel; but it is brackish, and used for drinking only in times of siege.

Mounting our horses once more, we returned through the court of the Mamelukes, and at its further extremity, within the citadel, alighted to examine an extensive manufactory of fire-arms. They first took us to a foundry of brass cannon in active operation, and thence to a suite of rooms where some hundreds of native workmen were employed manufacturing muskets, pistols, swords, and gun-carriages, &c., in rolling sheet copper for the navy, and in making bolts and sheathing nails. They manufacture here 36,000 muskets annually, with pistols and sabres to correspond. The various parts of the musket are made exactly of the same size, so that if any part is injured, it can be immediately replaced. The different branches are superintended by foreigners, mostly from France; but the master workmen are all natives of the country, many of them having been sent abroad to qualify them for these stations.

The mint is also kept in the citadel, and on a subsequent visit they took us over every part, explaining the whole process of money-making, and striking for us impressions on paper of all their coins. The machinery is old and clumsy, but they had just imported a new set made of cast iron from England, which they were about putting into operation. We found the superintendent of the mint, an old man with a superb white beard, poring over a great atlas just printed at Constantinople, and sadly puzzled with its labyrinths. He seemed quite grateful for a little assistance we were able to give him in comprehending them.