Cairo to Kisumu

To-day Egypt is governed by a king. Her last sovereign had the title of sultan, and for fifty years before that she was ruled by khedives. There were four khedives in that time, and with two of them I had face-to-face chats. The first was with Tewfik Pasha, whom I met in the Abdin Palace during my second visit to Cairo. The other was with Abbas Hilmi, the son and successor of Tewfik, with whom I talked sixteen years later. Abbas Hilmi’s pro-German intrigues finally led to his being deposed by the British and to the establishment of the Protectorate, which ended in the nationalization of Egypt under a ruler with the title of king.

I give you here the stories of the two interviews, reproducing the notes I made at the time.

I have just returned from a long audience with the Khedive of Egypt. Khedive is a Persian-Arabic word, meaning “king,” and Mohammed Tewfik occupies much the same position now as the Pharaohs did in the days of Moses. It is true that he is in a measure the vassal of the Sultan of Turkey to whom he pays a tribute of about three and three quarter million dollars a year, and that he has also several European advisers who keep sharp watch over the revenues of his kingdom to see that a great part of them go to the interest on the debts that he and his predecessors have contracted with the bankers of Europe. But he is, nevertheless, the king of Egypt, and as kings go to-day, he has more power than many other monarchs. His residence in Cairo is a grand palace with hundreds of rooms filled with magnificent furniture. He drives about the city with soldiers carrying swords, riding prancing horses in front of his carriage, and with a score of cavalry following behind. He has five hundred thousand dollars a year for his personal expenses, and he has several palaces besides the one he occupies in Cairo.

It was at the Abdin Palace that I met His Highness to-day. The interview had been arranged by the American consul general. We left his office together in the consular carriage. The dragoman of the legation, a bright-eyed Syrian in the most gorgeous of Turkish clothes of brown covered with gold embroidery and with a great sword shaped like a scimitar clanking at his side, opened the carriage door for us and took his seat by the coachman. The Arabian Jehu cracked his whip and away we went through the narrow streets. We drove by the modern European mansions of the rich Greeks, past the palaces of Egyptian princes from which came the sweet smell of orange flowers and over which whispered broad spreading palms. We then went through a business street amid droves of donkeys, through a caravan of camels, by veiled women clad in black, past the palace in which Ismail Pasha had his harem when he was khedive, and on into a great square of many acres. On the right of this square were vast barracks filled with Arab troops in blue uniforms and fezzes. A regiment of Egyptian troops was going through a gymnastic drill, performing the motions as well to-day as they did at the time when our American General Stone was their commander and when General Grant reviewed them and said that they seemed to be good soldiers for everything except fighting.

The Abdin Palace, built in the form of a great horseshoe, is at the end of this square. It is a vast building of two stories, of brown stucco, with many windows and a grand entrance way in the centre. At the left there is a door leading to the harem, and as our carriage drove up we were passed by a closed coach drawn by two magnificent Arabian horses. On the box beside the liveried coachman sat a scowling eunuch whose black skin and dark clothes were all the more sombre by contrast with his bright red skullcap. In front of the carriage ran two fleet syces with wands or staffs held up in the air in front of them, warning plebeians to get out of the way. I was told that the carriage was that of a princess who was about to make a call upon the Khedivieh, or queen. These runners, who are a part of every nobleman’s turnout, are among the most picturesque sights of Egypt.

At the door of the palace stood two pompous soldiers with great swords in their hands. They were in Turkish costumes with embroidered jackets of blue and gold and full zouave trousers of blue broadcloth. Upon their heads were turbans, and their faces made me think of the fierce troops that conquered this land in the days of the Prophet. Passing up the massive steps we came to the palace door which was opened by an Arab clad in European clothes and wearing the red fez, which the Egyptian never takes off in the house or out of it. We were ushered into a grand entrance hall, floored with marble mosaic, the walls of which were finished in cream and gold. In front of us a staircase so wide that two wagonloads of hay could be drawn up it without touching led by easy flights to the second floor, while at the right and the left were the reception rooms for visitors and halls leading to the apartments reserved for the chamberlains, masters of ceremonies, and other officers of the royal household. After chatting a moment with one or two of the cabinet ministers, who were just passing out after a council with His Highness, we moved on up the stairs. In one of the drawing rooms on the second floor we were met by another Egyptian official in black clothes and red fez who conducted us to a reception room, the door of which stood open, and motioned us to enter.

In the centre of this room, which was not larger than a good-sized American parlour, there stood all alone a man of about thirty-six years of age. He was dressed in a black broadcloth coat buttoning close up at the neck like that of a preacher. Lavender pantaloons showed below this, fitting well down over a pair of gaiter-like pumps. On the top of his rather handsome head was a fez of dark red with a black silk tassel. This man was the Khedive of Egypt. He is, I judge, about five feet six inches in height and while rather thick-set, does not weigh more than one hundred and fifty pounds. His frame is well rounded, his head is large, and his features are clean cut. He has a nose slightly inclined to the Roman. His forehead is high, and the dark brown eyes that shine from under it change from the grave to the smiling during his conversation. The Khedive extended his hand and said he was glad to see me and that he liked to have Americans come to Cairo. Seating himself on a divan, with one leg doubled up under him, he motioned me to join him. There was an absence of pomp or snobbishness in his manner, and though dignified he did not put on half the airs of the average backwoods member of our House of Representatives. As he seated himself, his black coat opened so that I had a chance to note the contrast between his costume and that of the gorgeous rajahs whom I have met in India. His only jewellery consisted of a set of pearl studs the size of the smallest of peas and a watch chain of thin links of gold. He wore a cheap black bow tie in his white turnover collar, and his cuffs, though scrupulously clean, had not the polish of the American laundry.

Besides being a good French scholar, Tewfik Pasha speaks English, and that was the language used in our conversation. In speaking of his life as Khedive, he said:

“I am told that many people envy me my position. They say that I am a young man whose lot must be a pleasant one. They do not understand the troubles that surround me. Many a time I would have been glad to lay down all the honours I have for rest and peace. The ten years of my reign have been equal to forty years of work and of worry. If life were a matter of pleasure I would be a fool to remain on the throne. I believe, however, that God put man on the world for a purpose. Duty, not pleasure, is the chief end of man. I do the best I can for my country and my people, and I feel happiest when I do the most work and when my work is the hardest.”

As the Khedive said these words I thought of the thorns which have filled the pillow of his reign. I thought of how, upon his entering manhood, his father Ismail was deposed and he was put upon the throne. I thought of how he boxed the ears of the messenger who came to tell him he had succeeded to that uncomfortable seat. I thought of his trouble under foreign dictation. I thought of the plots and nearly successful rebellion of Arabi Pasha, of the revolution of the Mahdi, of the creditors who to-day are grinding Egypt between their upper and nether millstones, of the danger of assassination, and of the other perils that are ever present about the throne of an oriental monarch. Recalling all these things, I could appreciate why his mouth hardened and his eyes grew sad when he spoke thus to me.

The talk then turned upon the condition of Egypt and its future, but as to these matters Tewfik was reticent. He spoke proudly of the reforms which he had inaugurated in government and of the fact that now, though the taxes were heavy, every peasant knew just what he would have to pay and that the taxes were honestly collected. He spoke of the improvement of the courts and said that the pasha and the fellah were equal before the law. “When I came to the throne,” said he, “the people were surprised that I put the prince on the same footing as other people. Now, there is no difference in justice. The prince and the peasant are the same in our courts, and the former may be punished like the latter.”

At this point, coffee and cigarettes were brought in by the servants of the palace. The coffee was à la Turque. It was served in little china cups shaped like egg cups, in holders of gold filigree, each holding about three tablespoonfuls of rich black coffee as thick as chocolate and as sweet as molasses. There were neither saucers nor spoons. Trying to follow the Khedive’s example I gulped down half the contents of the cup at a swallow. It was as hot as liquid fire. I could feel the top of my mouth rising in a blister, the tears came into my eyes, and my stomach felt as though it had taken an internal Turkish bath. Tewfik Pasha took the boiling mixture without winking and went on talking as though his throat were used to scalding fluids. Surprised to see him refuse a cigarette, I asked him if he did not smoke. He replied:

“No! I neither smoke nor drink. I do not drink for two reasons. I believe a man is better off without it, and, what is of more moment to me, it is against the laws of life as laid down in the Koran. We do not believe it right to drink anything intoxicating and good Moslems drink neither wine nor liquor. I believe that every man should be faithful to the religion which he professes. My faith is that of Islam and I try to follow it as well as I can. I am not illiberal in it, however, for I tolerate all religions and all sects in my kingdom. We have Copts, Jews, and Christians, and your missionaries are at work in the land. They make very few converts, if any, among the people of my faith, but they have schools in Upper Egypt that are doing much in the way of education.”

The consul general here spoke of the Khedive’s knowledge of the Koran, mentioning the fact that His Majesty knows the whole book by heart. There is no doubt that Tewfik has as much faith in his religion as we have in ours. He spoke with some pride of the Mohammedan conversions in Africa and the fact that there are more than one hundred millions of people in the world who believe the same as he does. We talked of the band of one hundred American Catholics, who are stopping in Egypt on their way to the Holy Land, and the Khedive said he was interested in these pilgrims who are following the footsteps of Joseph and Mary. He spoke of the immense sums brought into Egypt by tourists and said that it bettered the business of his country.

Throughout our whole conversation the talk was of the most cordial and unceremonious character and I left the palace with the impression that the Khedive of Egypt is a man of great sense and of more than ordinary ability. He stands well with his people. Indeed, the leading men in Cairo tell me he would do much for Egypt if he were not hampered by foreign intervention. He gave up a number of his palaces a year or so ago and he is, for a king, most economical. Had other rulers of the past been equally careful, Egypt would be a rich country to-day instead of being ridden with debts. He is a man of domestic tastes, and though a Mohammedan and an oriental king, he is the husband of but one wife to whom he is as true as the most chaste American. A friend of Tewfik Pasha reported to me a talk he recently had with him upon this subject in which the Khedive expressed himself strongly in favour of monogamy: “I saw,” said he, “in my father’s harem the disadvantages of a plurality of wives and of having children by different wives, so I decided before I came to manhood that I would marry but one woman and would be true to her. I have done so, and I have had no reason to regret it.”

From what I can learn the ruler’s family life is a happy one. He is much in love with his wife, who is said to be one of the cleverest women of Egypt. A woman friend of hers, who visits often at the royal harem, tells me that this queen of Egypt is both beautiful and accomplished. She keeps up a big establishment separate from that of the Khedive, and when she sits down to dinner or breakfast it is not with her husband, but with her own ladies. The Khedive eats with his officers, according to Mohammedan etiquette, and his apartments, or the salumlik, are separate from hers. Both she and her husband have done much to break down the rigidity of Mohammedan social customs. Tewfik Pasha takes the Khedivieh with him wherever he goes, though she usually travels in a separate train or car. She has stuck to the Khedive through the stormiest days of his reign. During the last war she refused to take refuge on the English gunboats when invited to do so.

Both the Khedive and the Khedivieh are wrapped up in their four children. They have two boys and two girls. The boys are Abbas Hilmi, who will be fifteen years old in July, and Mehemet Ali, who is two years younger. These boys are now at school in Berlin. They speak French, English, German, and Arabic, and they are, I am told, very clever. The girls are rather pretty, cream-complexioned maidens of eight and ten, who are as much like American girls as they can be considering their surroundings. They wear European clothes and may be seen along the sea shore at Alexandria, walking together and swinging their hats in their hands like other little girls at our summer resorts. They have European governesses and talk French quite well.

In Cairo sixteen years later I found on the throne Abbas Hilmi who was a boy at school when I had my interview with his father. Again through the courtesy of our consul general an audience with the Khedive was arranged for me, and together we went to the palace to pay our respects. Here is the story of my visit:

In the very room where I met Tewfik Pasha I was received in the same cordial and informal manner by his son, the present Khedive. He does not look much like his father. He is a trifle taller and seems to have more dignity, perhaps because in place of his father’s simple garb Abbas Hilmi wears the more formal frock coat and striped trousers of modern officialdom.

My conversation with His Highness covered a wide range. It dealt with the present prosperity of Egypt, and I could see that he understands both his country and its people. He thinks that the Nile valley has by no means reached the maximum of its development, and says that by increasing the dams and drainage facilities Egypt might yield much greater crops than she does now. I spoke to him about having met his father, mentioning the great interest that Tewfik Pasha showed in Egypt and its future. The Khedive expressed a similar desire to do all he could for the Egyptians, but practically the only matters in which he has full sway are those regarding his own estates, his management of which shows great business capacity. He has an allowance of five hundred thousand dollars a year out of the public treasury, but in addition he owns thousands of acres of valuable lands, so his private property must be worth many millions of dollars. He handles this in such a way that it pays well, his experiments and improvements being the talk of farmers and business men throughout the Nile valley.

I have heard a great deal of these khedivial farms since I have been in Egypt. Abbas Hilmi inherited much land from his father, but he has other large tracts, which he himself has redeemed from the desert, and yet others which he has made good by draining. Not far from Cairo he owns twenty-five hundred acres which a few years ago were covered with swamps, quagmires, and hillocks. He bought this cheap and then began to improve it. He cut down the hills, drained the swamps, and put water on the land. At present that estate is paying over sixty thousand dollars a year, bringing His Highness thirty per cent. and upward on his investment.

He has another great farm not far from Alexandria which was all desert not long ago. The Khedive has irrigated it and thus turned four thousand waste acres into cultivated fields. Farm villages have grown up about them and His Highness has so laid out the estate with trees and flowers that it is said to be like an earthly paradise. In one place he has a plantation of fifteen thousand mulberry bushes, the leaves of which furnish food for his silkworms. This estate is at Montzah, a few miles out of Alexandria, on a beautiful bay of the Mediterranean Sea. Abbas Hilmi has built a palace there, or rather two palaces, a little one for himself and a larger one for his family. In other parts of the estate he is carrying on all sorts of breeding experiments. He has chicken houses and rabbit hutches as well as a tower containing thousands of pigeons.

The Khedive is interested in fine stock and is doing much to improve that of Egypt. On his various farms he has high-bred horses, cattle, and sheep. He has a large number of Arabian thoroughbred horses, and some Jersey, Swiss, and other fine breeds of cows. His water buffaloes, known here as gamoushes, are far better than any others of the Nile valley. He is also breeding cattle for oxen and mules for draft animals. He has a school on his estate near Cairo where two hundred boys are being educated to take places on his various properties. This school is run at his own expense, the boys being taught farming and surveying as well as reading, writing, and arithmetic. The course of study lasts for five years, at the end of which the graduate is pretty sure of a good position as a steward or overseer on one of the khedivial farms.

Abbas Hilmi has made a great deal of money within the last three or four years. He is investing largely in Cairo and is building apartment houses with elevators, telephones, electric lights, bathrooms, and all other modern improvements. He has a brick factory on one of his estates near here, and his profits from cotton and other crops must be very large.

Abbas Hilmi’s wife is the Princess Ikbal Hanem, whom he married when he was about twenty. She is said to be both accomplished and beautiful, but like all Mohammedan ladies, she leads a secluded life, and does not appear at the great functions at the palace. She is not seen at the Khedive’s grand ball, given to his officials and the foreigners about once a year, to which something like fifteen hundred guests are invited. She is present, all the same, however, for she has a screened chamber looking down upon the ballroom, with the curtains so arranged that she can watch the dancing and flirting while she herself is unseen. Her Majesty has gorgeous apartments in each of the palaces and a little court of her own of which the noble ladies of Egypt are a part.