Cairo, November, 1842.

My dear Friend,

Being extremely anxious to see the interiors of the principal mosques, I was much vexed at finding that it had become very difficult for a Christian to obtain access to them. My brother might, perhaps, have taken us without risk, as he is generally mistaken for a Turk; but had he done so, we might have been spoken to in some mosque in the Turkish language, in which language we could not have replied; whereas, if we were conducted by a Caireen, no Turkish ladies were likely to address us, and if any Arab ladies should do so, our Arabic would only induce them to imagine us Turks. At length an old friend of my brother offered to take me if I would consent to ride after him in the streets and follow him in the mosques, and appear to be, for the time being, the chief lady of his hareem.

It appeared to me that I should commit a breach in etiquette, by consenting thus to displace his wife (for he has but one); but finding he would not consent to take me on any other terms, and being bent on gratifying my curiosity, I agreed to submit to his arrangement, and the more readily because his wife expressed, with much politeness the pleasure she anticipated in contributing to my gratification. I had never seen my kind old conductor but once, and then through the hareem blinds, until the morning arrived for our expedition, when I and my sister-in-law mounted our donkeys, and submitted ourselves to his guidance. He rode first in the procession; I next; then followed my sister-in-law; and lastly, his wife. We endeavoured on several occasions to induce her to take a more distinguished place, but in vain, and therefore came to the conclusion that she must be infinitely better acquainted with Eastern manners than ourselves, and that it would be safer and better not to oppose her. I use the expression safer, because I was fully aware that if we appeared in any respect un-eastern, or rather if we did not look like Muslims, we should incur the risk of being turned out of any mosque we might enter, and loaded with reproach and insult.

With (I confess) nervous feelings, we stopped at one of the entrances of the mosque of the Hasaneyn, which is generally esteemed the most sacred in Cairo. It was crowded with ladies who were paying their weekly visit to the tomb of El-Hoseyn.

I felt that I had rather have been initiated before entering the most sacred mosque, and thought I had been too bold. Never did a submissive wife walk more meekly after her husband than I followed the steps of my governor pro tempore. I gained, however, some confidence by remarking the authoritative air he assumed as soon as he had passed the threshold of the mosque; indeed he played his part admirably.

At the threshold all persons remove their shoes, or slippers, the ladies walking, in the mosque, in the yellow morocco socks, or boots, which I have before described to you; and here I must remark on the scrupulous attention which is paid to cleanliness; for the pale yellow morocco is scarcely injured by a whole day spent in perambulating these Muslin sanctuaries. The men generally carry the shoes in the left hand through the mosque, placed sole to sole, and some ladies carry theirs, but we, like many others, preferred leaving them with our servants, for the walking-dress in itself is so exceedingly cumbrous, and requires so much management, that two hands are scarcely sufficient to preserve its proper arrangement.

The mosque of the Hasaneyn,^[29] which is situated to the north of the Azhar, and not far distant, was founded in the year of the Flight 549 (A.D. 1154–5); but has been more than once rebuilt. The present building was erected about 70 years ago. The fore part consists of a handsome hall, or portico, the roof of which is supported by numerous marble columns, and the pavement covered with carpets. Passing through this hall, I found myself in that holy place under which the head of the martyr El-Hoseyn is said to be buried deep below the pavement. It is a lofty square saloon, surmounted by a dome. Over the spot where the sacred relic is buried, is an oblong monument, covered with green silk, with a worked inscription around it. This is enclosed within a high screen of bronze, of open work; around the upper part of which are suspended several specimens of curious and elegant writing. The whole scene was most imposing. The pavements are exquisite; some of virgin-marble, pure and bright with cleanliness, some delicately inlaid: and the whole appearance is so striking, that I am persuaded if a stranger were to visit the shrine of El-Hoseyn alone, he would never believe that El-Islam is on the wane.

All the visitors whom I saw passed round the tomb, walking from left to right, touching each corner of the screen with the right hand, and then applying that hand to their lips and forehead, reciting at the same time, but inaudibly, the FÁt’hah (or opening chapter of the Kur-Án), a ceremony also observed on visiting other tombs. Many were most devoutly praying, and one woman kissed the screen with a fervour of devotion which interested while it grieved me. For myself, however, I can never think of the shrine of El-Hoseyn without being deeply affected by reflecting upon the pathetic history of that amiable man, in whom were combined, in an eminent degree so many of the highest Christian virtues.

We next bent our steps to El-ZÁme el-Azhar (or the splendid mosque^[30]), which is situated, as I have said, to the south of the Hasaneyn, and not far distant, midway between the principal street of the city and the gate called BÁb El-Ghureiyib. It is the principal mosque of Cairo, and the University of the East; and is also the first, with regard to the period of its foundation, of all the mosques of the city; but it has been so often repaired, and so much enlarged, that it is difficult to ascertain exactly how much of the original structure we see in the present state of the mosque. It was founded about nine months after the first wall of the city, in the year of the Flight 359 (A. D. 969–70). Though occupying a space about three hundred feet square, it makes but little show externally; for it is so surrounded by houses, that only its entrances and mÁd’nehs can be seen from the streets. It has two grand gates, and four minor entrances. Each of the two former has two doors, and a school-room above, open at the front and back. Every one takes off his shoes before he passes the threshold of the gate, although if he enter the mosque by the principal gate, he has to cross a spacious court before he arrives at the place of prayer. This custom is observed in every mosque. The principal gate is in the centre of the front of the mosque: it is the nearest to the main street of the city. Immediately within this gate are two small mosques; one on either hand. Passing between these, we enter the great court of the Azhar, which is paved with stone, and surrounded by porticoes. The principal portico is that which is opposite this entrance: those on the other three sides of the court are divided into a number of riwÁks or apartments for the accommodation of the numerous students who resort to this celebrated university from various and remote countries of Africa, Asia, and Europe, as well as from different parts of Egypt.

These persons, being mostly in indigent circumstances, are supported by the funds of the mosque; each receiving a certain quantity of bread and soup at noon, and in the evening. Many blind paupers are also supported here, and we were much affected by seeing some bent with age, slowly walking through the avenues of columns, knowing from habit every turn and every passage, and looking like the patriarchs of the assembled multitude. The riwÁks are separated from the court, and from each other, by partitions of wood, which unite the columns or pillars. Those on the side in which is the principal entrance are very small, there being only one row of columns on this side; but those on the right and left are spacious halls containing several rows of columns. There are also some above the ground-floor. Each riwÁk is for the natives of a particular country, or of a particular province in Egypt; the Egyptian students being of course more numerous than those of any other nation.

In going the round of these apartments, after passing successively among natives of different divisions of Egypt, we find ourselves in the company of people of Mekkeh and El-Medeeneh; then in the midst of Syrians; in another minute among Muslims of central Africa; next amidst MaghÁr’beh (or natives of northern Africa, west of Egypt); then, with European and Asiatic Turks; and quitting these, we are introduced to Persians, and Muslims of India: we may almost fancy ourselves transported through their respective countries. No sight in Cairo interested me more than the interior of the Azhar; and the many and great obstacles which present themselves when a Christian, and more especially a Christian lady, desires to obtain admission into this celebrated mosque, make me proud of having enjoyed the privilege of walking leisurely through its extensive porticoes, and observing its heterogeneous students engaged in listening to the lectures of their professors.

To the left of the great court is a smaller one, containing the great tank at which the ablution preparatory to prayer is performed by all those who have not done it before entering the mosque. The great portico is closed by partitions of wood between a row of square pillars, or piers, behind the front row of columns. The partition of the central archway has a wide door; and some of the other partitions have smaller doors. The great portico is very spacious; containing eight rows of small marble columns, arranged parallel with the front. That part beyond the fifth row of columns was added by the builder of one of the grand gates, about 70 years ago. The walls are whitewashed: the niche and pulpit are very plain; and simplicity is the prevailing character of the whole of the interior of the great portico. The pavement is covered with mats; and a few small carpets are seen here and there.

A person of rank or wealth is generally accompanied by a servant bearing a seggÁdeh (or small prayer-carpet, about the size of a hearth-rug), upon which he prays. During the noon-prayers of the congregation on Friday, the worshippers are very numerous; and, arranged in parallel rows, they sit upon the matting.

Different scenes at other times are presented in the great portico of the Azhar. We saw many lecturers addressing their circles of attentive listeners, or reading to them commentaries on the Kur-Án. In most cases these lecturers were leaning against a pillar, and I understand that in general each has his respective column, where his pupils regularly attend him, sitting in the form of a circle on the matted floor. Some persons take their meals in the Azhar, and many houseless paupers pass the night there, for this mosque is left open at all hours. Such customs are not altogether in accordance with the sanctity of the place; but peculiarly illustrative of the simplicity of Eastern manners.

We next visited the fine mosque of Mohammad Bey, founded in the year of the Flight 1187 (A. D. 1773–4), adjacent to the Azhar. This is remarkable as a very noble structure, of the old style, erected at a late period.

The great mosque of that impious impostor the Khaleefeh El-Hakim (who professed to be a prophet, and afterwards to be God incarnate) derives an interest from the name it bears, and from its antiquity. It is situated immediately within that part of the northern wall of the city which connects the BÁb en-Nasr and BÁb el-Futooh. This mosque was completed in the reign of El-HÁkim, in the year of the Flight 403 (A. D. 1012–13); but was founded by his predecessor. It is now in a state of ruin, and no longer used as a place of worship. It occupies a space about 400 feet square, and consists of arcades surrounding a square court.