We arrived off Suez about four o’clock on the morning of the 1st of March, having travelled from Australia in the magnificent steamship “Orient.” After saying farewell to our friends, at seven o’clock we set out for the shore, our boat being manned by a picturesque party of Arabs. We had about four miles to go, the latter portion of the journey being through water so shallow that the men had to propel the boat by nimbly running forward and placing one end of the oar in the mud and pushing against the other with the shoulder; singing a monotonous song all the while. On arriving at our landing-place opposite the Custom House, a motley crowd rushed forward, some dressed in night-shirts, some in towels, others in their own black skins only. When we stopped, a score of them dashed into the water and began to seize our luggage, seeing which our boatmen called to us to beat them on the head with our umbrellas, and to kick them off; but we managed to defend our property by loud words, which broke no bones. Then we were carried ashore amidst such shrieking, hustling, jostling, and shouting as I had never heard or seen before. The luggage was set down in the middle of the square to await the arrival of an official from the Custom House.
After a very slight examination we were permitted to pass, and then began another battle for the luggage; but we selected as our dragoman a tall, stout fellow named Hassan, who quickly routed the others; and then a file of these half-naked Arabs marched off to the hotel with the luggage on their backs. The Suez Hotel is a very comfortable establishment, with large, clean, and airy rooms, and bright and attentive native servants.
After breakfast we went for a stroll through the town. The streets are very narrow, and the tiny shops are filled with vegetables and other garden produce, oils, simple metal wares, etc. In one street the Bedouin Arabs have stalls for the sale of charcoal, brought by them from the desert; a very sullen, repulsive set of fellows they appear to be. There are few European buildings, and what there are were built for the French officials during the construction of the Canal. These were all vacated during the Franco-German war, and very few French have since returned, consequently the houses are in a very dilapidated condition.
Before leaving England we had arranged for a party of our friends to meet us at Suez, and on returning from our stroll in the town, we walked for a while in the large inner court of the hotel, when presently we saw our friends entering, they having landed just three hours after our arrival from Australia.
After lunch, nine of us took donkeys and had a ride round the town and neighbourhood. Not being assured of my riding ability, I asked my companions to keep near me, which they promised to do, and which they doubtless would have done if they could; but alas! their noble brutes dashed off at full speed, and I was left alone. At every street corner stood a mob of darkies shouting, laughing, and begging, and calling out the names of the various donkeys, “Mrs. Langtry,” “Mrs. Cornwallis West” (this was mine), “Mr. Spurgeon,” etc. On getting back to the hotel gates there was a crowd of about fifty donkeys, all their fifty drivers wanting us to engage them for our next ride, and it required a vigorous use of Hassan’s stick to clear a passage for us.
On the following morning we left for Cairo by train, and in due time Hassan appeared with about a dozen men and a shaky old wagon to take our luggage to the station, and truly it was a formidable lot—a lady and gentleman from Australia having no less than nine trunks.
At the hotel gate stood the usual fifty donkeys, their drivers all shrieking out to you to take their donkeys. “My donkey good donkey, sah; his name, Mrs. Langtry.” “‘Dis donkey, Sir Roggar (sic) Tichborne, sah; he go gentle.” You have to push through the crowd of men and animals as you best can. The never-ceasing word backsheesh, or its abbreviation ’sheesh, hissing in your ear all the way. On suddenly turning a corner you may come upon a lot of children or grown-up people engaged in play or other occupation, but they are always ready. Their hands are immediately stretched out, and the cry is on their lips, ’sheesh! ’sheesh! nor do they seem surprised if you fail to respond. Sometimes I vary it by putting out my own hand, with temporary success as far as checking their begging goes, but they are soon equal to the occasion, and with mock gravity will offer a quarter piastre—about a halfpenny—and then you laugh and they laugh.
I had often read, that properly to understand Biblical allusions it is necessary to travel in the East. This constant extending of the hand for backsheesh gave me an entirely new appreciation of the passage, “Ethiopia shall yet stretch forth her hand.”
After much excitement the train at last starts, and a mob accompanied it as far as they can keep up by running, hoping against hope that you will at length relent and throw them some money. Once I offered a beggar a new penny, but he handed it back very gravely, saying “No good—piastre” (meaning that he wanted a piastre); but I pretended to be offended, and did not give him anything.
Every little station on the road is infested with crowds of natives hoping for backsheesh, and it is wonderful what vast numbers of people there are who have nothing to do. At most stations you will see an ill-favoured fellow with a goat-skin across his back, filled with water, but I should have to be very thirsty indeed before I could drink from it. An hour after leaving Suez we saw our old friend the s.s. Orient in the Canal close alongside, having taken twenty-four hours to accomplish this distance.
At Ismailia we stopped some time, and a lad wanted to clean my boots which, however, did not require cleaning, so I told him to black the bare feet of a brown boy who was standing by. This he proceeded to do in the presence of a crowd of grinning spectators of all colours—yellow, brown, coffee-coloured, and jet black. The lad whose feet were blacked seemed to enjoy the fun very much, and when it was over appeared to think he was entitled to a half piastre as well as the operator, so he got it. The shoeblack then brought an ebony Nubian, whose skin was already a shining black. He asked me if he might do his feet, but I made him understand it was quite unnecessary. A grave-looking Turk observing the proceedings gave a look which seemed to say, “Mad English again.”
At Zagazig we stayed two hours for luncheon, and were much interested with the infinite variety of costume and feature among the crowds thronging the station. About half an hour before reaching Cairo, on looking through the window, we had our first view of the Pyramids. On our arrival at Cairo we were greeted with a chorus of the usual kind, but having “wired” to the hotel a porter was awaiting us with an omnibus, and we were soon comfortably located in the new Grand Hotel.
A walk to the Nile Bridge gave us a good view of the river. The road to the Pyramids passes for some distance through a fine avenue of trees, and the river having encroached on the soil too near to the roots, we saw for the first time a phase of Egyptian life which is not pleasant—viz., forced labour. About 1,500 men were engaged in piling up earth against the roots, forming a thick, deep embankment against the river. The soil is carried in baskets, and from the elevation where we stood the men looked like a swarm of ants. These men are provided by the Sheiks of the villages on the demand of the Government, who pay nothing whatever for the labour. The men receive neither wages nor food, but each village looks after the families of its absentees, and attends to their work until their return. The men certainly seemed to labour with a will.
The Nile begins to rise about the end of June, reaching its greatest height about the end of September, continuing for about fifteen days at twenty-four feet above low-water level. If the rise be thirty feet great damage is done, and if it fail to reach eighteen feet famine ensues.
We rode for some distance along the valley of the Nile, which varies from two to twelve miles in width. It is very fertile, the soil being more than forty feet deep. It is only needful to sow the seed immediately after the inundation, and in about four months the harvest is ready to be gathered. The plough in use is a very primitive article; but the looseness of the soil renders stronger ploughs unnecessary. In many places as we went along we saw the natives irrigating by means of the bucket and pole, with a counterbalance at the end (shadouf), raising water from the Nile and sending it along the channels over the fields. In one field we saw agriculture being carried on as Adam would have done before the Fall, had it been necessary, the men being quite naked, and digging the earth with their hands.
Returning to the city we took a walk through old Cairo, along the narrow streets, passing many little workshops where various trades were being carried on, the owners appearing pleased at our noticing them at work. In one place some men were grinding beans with a huge pestle and mortar, and showed us some of the meal. In a secluded corner we saw about a dozen old fellows in every variety of costume sitting on the ground listening to a very animated story being told by one of the party. They appeared to be greatly interested, every now and then lifting up their hands in amazement. These professional story-tellers are a great institution in Cairo.
Passing down one of the narrow streets our attention was arrested by the busy hum of children’s’ voices, which we found proceeded from an upper room, the casement of which was open. Our guide told us it was a school, and that the children were repeating passages from the Koran.
One of our party, who had not forgotten the pranks of his boyhood, threw a number of new threepenny pieces into the midst of the boys, causing great excitement and confusion. Presently an old man, with a fringe of white hair encircling his dark face, and wearing a huge pair of brass-framed spectacles, appeared at the open window brandishing his cane at us, but in a moment his whole attitude changed, and holding out his hand he uttered the familiar cry of—backsheesh.
Our walk took us through one of the bazaars, which consist of very narrow lanes full of shops, with dealers in every variety of goods, most of which are made in the open. We were particularly struck with the beautiful embroideries of gold and silver thread, and the expeditious way in which the workmen executed the various designs. All were very anxious we should buy, and I overheard one old rascal offer our Coptic guide ten per cent. commission on our purchases. We, however, made none. In passing the carpet bazaar we saw an English party buying dingy carpets.
The most interesting part of our day’s experiences was spent in the manufacturing quarter. There are no large factories in Cairo, and I question if more than half a dozen people are employed at any one place. The work is carried on in the most primitive fashion in the little shops facing the street.
There can be but few secrets in the various trades, as the workshops are all shallow, and open to the streets. All the jewellers are in one street about 8ft. in width, each of them being provided with a safe, obviously of English manufacture. I do not think, however, that the bellows used by them were made in Birmingham, for it was curious to note that they had no valves. At the end of the jewellers’ street sits an old fellow like Abraham or Isaac, weighing precious metals in a pair of evidently very accurate scales. This man acted as general weigher for the trade, and his operations were carried on in the face of the public. Leaving the bazaars we met a crowd of natives gesticulating, shouting, and frolicking in a very excited manner. Standing aside to allow the throng to pass, we found it was a bridal procession conducting a bride to her husband’s home. A few tattered minstrels walked in front, making a hideous noise on pipes and drums, while a gang of young men jumped and danced about, and indulged in the wildest horse-play. The women were ornamented with strips of gilt paper and coloured ribbons, and had their cheeks thickly coated with rouge. The bride walked under a canopy consisting of four poles covered with canvas and was quite enclosed. Sometimes this portable tent would collapse upon the fair one, whose struggles were prominently manifested by bulges in the canvas. The whole party seemed to be making the most of the occasion.
We next visited the mosque of Sultan Hassan, which was built in the 14th century, at a cost of £600 per day for the three years it took to complete. It is the finest mosque in Cairo. While standing beside the Sultan’s tomb within the mosque our guide related its history. He said that for three years the Sultan had been absent from Egypt on pilgrimages, and that during his absence his Grand Vizier declared himself Sultan. Hassan hearing of this returned to Cairo in the disguise of a poor pilgrim, and finding that he had still many adherents he consulted with some of the principal of them as to the best way of regaining his rights. He first obtained permission to build this mosque, and when it was finished his partisans assembled in the building in large numbers.
Hassan, still in the pilgrim’s habit, rose to preach to the people—this was the preconcerted signal for a general massacre of the usurper and his supporters; and thus Hassan recovered his throne. At the entrance to the mosque our boots were covered with sandals, so that our feet might not touch the holy floor; but custom does not demand the removal of the hat. In the court-yard is a fountain where the faithful perform their ablutions before prayer. In front of the niche looking towards Mecca were about a dozen persons at their devotions. Just in advance of them stood a mollah or priest, and as he bowed his head or kneeled they did the same, concluding with chanting or singing a prayer. Whilst we were looking around a little boy was following us, keeping a sharp look out lest our slippers should come off, and if they showed any signs of coming loose he at once brought up a man to fasten them.
One of the sights of Cairo is the egg-hatching establishment. This institution is rendered necessary, because the hens are too idle to hatch their eggs in this country, consequently the operation has to be artificially performed. The people bring their eggs to the hatching place and receive one chicken for every two eggs. I observed the Egyptian eggs are very small, due also to the laziness of the hens, doubtless.
We next visited the citadel and the mosque of Mohammed Ali, a magnificent pile, built early in this century. In the courtyard of this place the Mamelukes in 1811 were massacred by order of Mohammed Ali. Fearing their power he invited them to the mosque, and closing the gates slaughtered them all, save one who escaped by leaping with his horse from the parapet. The horse was killed, but the rider was uninjured. About 450 persons were here massacred, and 800 in other parts of the city. The citadel commands a magnificent view of the city and surrounding country, and every evening large parties of tourists assemble there to see the sunset.
The excursion to the Pyramids of Gizeh is now much more easily made since Ismaïl completed the carriage road by way of compliment to our Royal Princes on their visit. Our party was conveyed in carriages, while donkeys had been previously sent forward for the use of the ladies. While on the carriage-road the view of the Pyramids is altogether lost till within a mile of the end of the journey, acacias having been thickly planted on either side of the road. On leaving the carriages we were at once surrounded by beggars, who continued to infest us all the time we were in the neighbourhood. Some were loud, almost menacing in their demands, others soft and insinuating. One kind, which I call the “quiet devil” or “familiar,” creeps by your side, and whispers in your ear confidentially that he is “a good man”; that the others are “bad men”; that he will not bother you for anything; that you are “a good man”; that he will “help you, and keep off the others.” But alas! he too is sure to whisper in conclusion backsheesh. If the road is a little rough these “good men” seem to fancy you cannot get on without help, so one on each side puts a hand under your arm and half carries you along. It is quite useless to protest; they look at you as though they would say, “poor man! he thinks he can walk by himself; but we know better; he would fall at once did we not hold him up.” And then, when we reach level ground again, there is a universal chorus of—’sheesh, backsheesh.
On arriving at the little house at the foot of the Pyramids our guide Abaid summoned the Sheik of the village, who proceeded to detail two men for each person who intended to make the ascent—ladies and fat men being allotted four men each to help them up. The weather being extremely hot my sister and I were content to see the rest of the party make the ascent while we sat in a shady place at the base. A group of twenty Arabs of the most patriarchal aspect squatted on the ground in front of us in a half-circle; immediately our eyes fell upon any one of them he mutely extended one hand—not so much to help us as to be helped—instantly lowering it without complaint on our looking elsewhere. This would become monotonous. I would occasionally show by my look that I was annoyed, upon which the beggar would get a crack over his head from one of his neighbours.
The Great Pyramid of Cheops is 732ft. along the base line and 460ft. high, covering an area of 536,000 square feet—about equal in extent to Lincoln’s Inn Fields in London. Its height is about 60ft. higher than the cross on St. Paul’s Cathedral. My wife managed the ascent very well, and also went with the rest to explore the interior, and all seemed greatly pleased with their exploits. A fee of two francs to the Sheik and a franc a piece to the helpers is the regular charge for each person; but even the Sheik is not above taking a little extra by way of backsheesh. Our party were quite ready for their lunch, which Abaid quickly spread out in the little house provided by the Government for the accommodation of visitors. We were shown into a large room, and while at table the doorways were filled with a hungry crowd, quarrelling, laughing, and jostling each other.
Some of the bolder spirits at length got into the room, but our guide seizing his stick administered two or three heavy blows, and soon cleared them out. It was wonderful to see how tamely big men will allow themselves to be driven. Truly the stick is a great institution in Egypt, although perhaps none but the ruling class would acquiesce in the inscription found in one of the ancient tombs to the effect that “The stick came down from heaven—a blessing from God.”
Before sitting down to eat, a boy brought water that we might wash our hands. The mode was certainly primitive. We had to hold our hands out of the window while he poured water over them. A noisy crowd of Arabs were sitting under another window, and a barber in the midst was operating upon the head of one of them, and it was really wonderful how cleverly he shaved, making a clean sweep of every lock and every hair. I asked Abaid if the men were under a vow, but he said it was because summer was coming on, and it would be cooler without hair.
After a scene of great confusion in paying the various claimants, during which the Sheik had to make a vigorous use of his long stick, we started to see the Sphinx, which is about 500 yards off. Before leaving, I called the Sheik and gave him two francs, that he might instruct his men to keep the mob from us. This he accepted with great solemnity, and in parting shook hands in a most impressive manner.
The Sphinx is cut out of the solid rock, and is about thirty feet from the top of the head to the bottom of the chin, and about fourteen feet across the face, the body being 140 feet long. I could see no beauty in the face, the features being almost obliterated.
Near the Sphinx is a fine underground temple formed of immense granite blocks and polished alabaster. The pavement is of granite and is perfectly smooth. Some of the finest statues at Bûlak were found in a well adjoining this temple.
Leaving our hotel at seven a.m., we started for Gizeh station en route for Sakkara, the railway taking us as far as Bedrashên. We had engaged eleven donkeys for carrying our party and the food necessary for the whole day’s refreshment. The confusion at Gizeh station in obtaining our tickets and getting the donkeys into the train was something tremendous. Fortunately, the morning was rather cool.
On arriving at Bedrashên we had some difficulty in finding the right donkeys, and I had great misgivings about the prospective five hours’ ride; but at last we got fairly off, and by degrees my confidence returned. We soon reached Mîtrahîneh, the site of ancient Memphis, now only marked by a vast number of heaps and mounds of rubbish, under which are doubtless buried many treasures of ancient Egyptian art. A number of articles which have been recently dug out were shown in a rude enclosure; one or two of the statues beautifully executed. Lying in a pool, face downwards, is a statue of Ramses II. belonging to the British Museum, but the authorities of that institution have not yet taken the trouble to remove it. The statue is 50ft. long, and is of siliceous limestone, very hard, and bearing a high polish. In one hand the figure holds a scroll bearing his name, and at his side is his little daughter, reaching to his knee. The face is still quite smooth, the features are sharply cut and delicately finished, and the expression perfectly preserved, looking really beautiful. Memphis was said by Herodotus to extend for six miles. It was conquered in turns by Persians, Assyrians, and Romans, each of whom did their share towards ruining it, and when at last the Mohammedans conquered the country, its doom was sealed, and the stones of its palace and temples taken away to build the new city of Cairo. The dykes being no longer kept in repair, the overflow of the Nile gradually piled up the mud year by year, and this, with the sand from the desert, has, in the course of ages, made Memphis little more than a name. Memphis is called in the Bible Noph, and in the time of the Patriarchs was the capital of Lower Egypt; but the prophecy of Jeremiah, xlvi. 19, has been literally fulfilled: “Noph shall be waste and desolate.”
Leaving Memphis we go on to Sakkara, for thousands of years the ancient Necropolis or burying-ground. In the centre stands the great Step Pyramid, built in steps of comparatively small pieces of stone. It is said to be not only the oldest pyramid, but also the most ancient monument of any kind in the world. The cemetery is four and a half miles long by an average of three-fourths of a mile in width, and being full of holes it is necessary to be very careful in crossing it. The ground is strewed with skulls and other human bones, some of the former being of great thickness. Soon we reached the house of Mariette Bey, built for his use when he was engaged in his explorations, and here, by his permission, parties are at liberty to rest and take their lunch.
The first object of interest is the Serapeum, or Apis Mausoleum. When alive, the sacred bull was worshipped in a splendid temple at Memphis, and lodged in an adjoining palace. When dead he was buried in this mausoleum, in a vault excavated out of the solid rock, his body being placed in a huge sarcophagus hewn out of a single piece of granite, and hollowed into a regular square to receive the body. A cover, also of granite, and weighing many tons, was then placed over it. The size of the sarcophagus is 13ft. long, 7ft. 6in. wide, and 11ft. high.
This mausoleum had for ages been known to exist somewhere, but no one knew the locality. The ancient Strabo wrote, “There is also a serapeum in a very sandy spot where drifts of sand are raised by the wind to such a degree that we saw some sphinxes buried up to their heads, and others half covered.” Mariette, recollecting this passage, observed in 1860 a sphinx’s head appearing through the sand, and it at once occurred to him that this must be the site of the avenue of which mention is made by another ancient writer, so he commenced a clearing and laid bare 141 sphinxes. To do this he had to make a cutting in the sand 70ft. deep; but at length he was rewarded by discovering the entrance to the mausoleum.
There are several galleries for the different dynasties, but only one is now shown, the interments in which date from 650 B.C. down to 50 B.C. The galleries extend for 400 yards, and there are now twenty-four sarcophagi in their places. Three of these are beautifully sculptured. One of them is of polished granite, and although the engraving is only 1/16 in. deep, a mere scratch in the polish, it is as clear as when first done, over 2,000 years ago, and so perfect is the stone that it rings like a bell when struck.
From the Serapeum we proceeded to examine one of the tombs, also excavated by Mariette Bey. It is called the Tomb of Tih. Over the doorways of these ancient tombs it was the custom to inscribe the name and titles of the deceased, and also an invocation to the God of Tombs (the tomb having been built during life by the person himself), with these objects:—
1st.—To accord to deceased propitious funeral-rites, and a good burial-place after a long and happy life.
2nd.—To be favourably disposed to deceased in his journey beyond the tomb.
3rd.—To secure to him, to all eternity, the proper payment of funeral-offerings by his relations.
A list of these offerings is carved upon the walls, which are covered with sculptures representing the scenes in which the deceased had been engaged during life, ending with a representation of the conveyance of the mummy to the tomb. The tomb itself contains several apartments, in which the relatives met upon certain anniversaries to present votive-offerings, etc.
We were astonished to see the perfect state of preservation in which the tomb remains. The sculptures on the walls are as sharp and clear and the colours apparently as bright as when laid on. Sand is a good preservative when not in motion, and to this must the marvel be ascribed. Over the door is the inscription giving Tih’s name, and stating that he was a priest; and on the walls of the first chamber are representations showing statues of Tih being embarked in boats and oxen being brought for sacrifice, one of them being offered up. There is another showing Tih with his wife and family watching his people at work in the farmyard. Some of them are bringing sacks of grain for the poultry; others are fattening the birds by making and forcing pellets of flour down their throats. Behind this there is a view of the farm-buildings, the roofs being supported on carved wooden pillars.
In the middle there is a pool where ducks are swimming, while cattle are seen pasturing in the fields around. Among the birds Tih kept are cranes and pigeons, ducks and geese. He had also cattle of every size and kind, including antelopes, gazelles, and wild goats. Then come the boats filled with jars and bales transporting farm produce down the Nile. In another place men are shown carrying fruits and vegetables, and pigeons in cages. Farther on are seen men drawing statues enclosed in temples of wood, half-a-dozen dragging with ropes, while one pours water on the road to make it easier. In another room Till is shown as a sportsman in a boat; in one hand he holds a decoy-bird, while with the other he hurls a curved stick like an Australian boomerang. In the water are seen crocodiles and hippopotami: a crocodile and hippopotamus are fighting, the latter being evidently victorious; some of the servants are trying to catch them, and the hippopotamus is just being hooked with a sort of harpoon. (This scene recalls the verse in Job, “Canst thou draw out the leviathan with a hook?”) Here again the fish are being drawn in nets into the boats, while the work of the farm goes vigorously on. Cows are seen crossing a ford and browsing in a field, while herdsmen are driving a flock of goats. Oxen are ploughing just as we saw them in the fields to-day, and with a very similar plough. The seed is being sown, corn reaped, and men with three-pronged forks are gathering it into heaps while the oxen are treading it out. In another place the corn is being tied into sheaves, and donkeys are being brought up with much fuss and use of the stick to take it to the granaries. Some of these scenes are drawn with inimitable humour. Carpenters are engaged in making furniture, and shipwrights in building boats, while Tih is always present directing each operation.
The Egyptians were said by Diodorus to call their houses hostelries, and their tombs their everlasting homes.
We now remounted our donkeys, and for an hour rode over the sandy desert through dreadful mud villages, from which all the population turned out as we passed, crying with all their might—’sheesh, ’sheesh, backsheesh, ’sheesh, ’sheesh.
Passing several strings of camels—which I described as “camelcades,” coining a word for the purpose—we soon regained the delightfully fertile country which is watered by the Nile. For more than two hours we trotted and galloped along through a very rich country, where hundreds of acres of date-palms were growing—where the young corn was waving, and peas, beans, and cucumbers in great luxuriance—no more dust nor sand, but a pleasant breeze and bright sun, with nothing to mar the pleasure except the sight of the wretched natives. Most of the children are absolutely naked, while their parents’ clothes are of the most limited description.
A Camelcade (sketched by the Author)
We halted for lunch under some palm-trees by a branch of the Nile, and then proceeded to the carriages, which we had ordered to meet us in the Gizeh road. Some of us had to ride back into Cairo on our donkeys, and on our way we passed the Khedive, who cordially acknowledged our salutation. All our party agreed in saying that to-day’s excursion was one of the most delightful we had ever had.
Friday being the Mohammedan Sabbath we devoted this day to the Dancing and Howling Dervishes, as they hold their principal zikr or ceremonial on that day. We first visited the convent of the dancing Dervishes and witnessed one of their performances, and certainly a curious spectacle it was. In the centre of the room a space of about 50ft. in diameter is railed off, and about twenty solemn-looking men in hats like the tall “tile” without brims are sitting opposite the door. They looked like a lot of ancient “Friends” at the head of a meeting. In the gallery above were some musicians, one of whom was playing a flute in a melancholy manner, and another reciting a prayer. At a certain point the Dervishes within the circle bow and rise, and taking off their outer garments begin walking round the enclosure with solemn steps and slow, headed by the Chief Priest or Sheik. On passing the carpet upon which the Sheik has been sitting they turn and bow, and this is repeated two or three times; then they go into the middle of the enclosure, spreading out their garments like ladies in the old minuet; the music quickens, and they begin to whirl around on one foot, occasionally touching the ground with the other. The performers’ eyes are closed (or appear to be so), but they keep on in perfect order—never touching one another—while the old Priest walks about among them. Some of the more experienced Dervishes can revolve fifty or sixty times a minute, keeping it up for nearly half an hour. It was a curious proceeding altogether, and, for a wonder, no backsheesh was demanded, the Priests being supported by endowments and occasional gifts from the Khedive. Mounting our donkeys we rode off to the Howling Dervishes, where we found them in full howl. About twenty of them were engaged in making the most hideous noise imaginable. These fellows had their hair very long and shaggy, and threw it about their heads in the wildest manner. Every time they raise their heads they utter the word HU (God alone), which sounds like the yell of a wild beast, at times the excitement rising to such a height that some of them would foam at the mouth and fall to the ground apparently in a fit. They wound up their proceedings with a prolonged howl and a deep grunt. These Dervishes, like their dancing brethren, are supported by Government endowment.
I have no doubt that when first instituted these “pious orgies” were entered upon with a due sense of solemnity, and I believe in places remote from the regular tourist route the religious feeling still predominates, but the Howling and Dancing Dervishes in Cairo have long since become one of the regular sights to which foreign visitors are always taken.
Upon the occasion of our visit there were several clergymen present, more than one artist, and a number of ladies, amongst the latter being a placid looking Quaker, who, with hands folded before her, was calmly surveying the “creaturely activity” of the Howling enthusiasts.
We afterwards paid a visit to Miss Whateley’s Schools, at the British Mission. There are over 300 native children here, and we heard many of them read in English and French, and also do some exercises in translation. The girls were engaged in embroidering, reading, and writing, and they sang two hymns in Arabic while we stayed. Then we saw them muster for the recess, and a bright little fellow stepped out into the middle of the hall and repeated the Lord’s Prayer, first in English and then in Arabic, after which they went out in a most orderly manner. Miss Whateley seems much encouraged at the result of her many years’ labours; but I have no doubt she has had her times of discouragement. My wife visited an Arab school in Syria, the superintendent of which told her that after two years’ continuous labour amongst the people of his district, the result was so unsatisfactory that he was greatly discouraged and was inclined to abandon the mission. Calling the people together he told them of his disappointment, and said that although he had worked diligently amongst them for so long a time, they appeared to be no better than before, and that he felt that he must leave them. The people, who had received many benefits from him in various ways, began to be seriously alarmed, and entreated him to try them yet again. One man got up in the meeting and said, “Teacher, you must not go, you have made us much better. When you came first there was a woman living near who used to steal all the fowls in her neighbourhood, but now,” he said, “she only steals the eggs.” The superintendent’s features somewhat relaxed on hearing this, and the quick-witted Arabs immediately perceiving their advantage, renewed their appeals, a woman rising and saying, “Teacher, when you came first my neighbour’s son used to thrash his mother every day, but since he has been at your school he only thrashes her once a month.” The superintendent remained, and is well satisfied with the progress which has since been made.
In the afternoon we went for a drive in the Shubra Avenue, which is the Rotten Row of Cairo. The custom is to drive quickly up one side, returning slowly on the other, the drive occupying an hour. The Khedive drove past us in his carriage, preceded by two magnificent fellows (sais) whose duty it is to run in front of the carriage. They were dressed in gorgeous gold tissue waistcoats, long white skirts, a silk sash of many colours round the waist, a fez with long tassel, legs and feet bare, and in the hand a handsome staff. These men run quite as fast as the horses, keep up the pace for a couple of hours, and are employed to clear the crowded streets for the carriages. This they do by shouting loudly in a fine resonant voice, which is very effectual. The avenue was crowded with carriages, some of them containing ladies of the harem. Their carriages have windows all round.
Some of the ladies are shrouded as for burial; others leave only the eyes uncovered, while some (the prettiest, presumably) wear only thin gauze veils, through which their faces are plainly to be seen. All wear the same languishing expression, and appear to be very fond of peeping at the Europeans, and as we passed and repassed them they would recognise us with a smile, and then, to save appearances, turn away. When we passed the guard-house the soldiers turned out, thinking it was the Khedive’s carriage, and drew up in saluting order.
They were greatly disgusted on discovering their mistake. At four o’clock a general stampede of carriages, horsemen, runners, and pedestrians takes place, and the road is soon quite deserted.
One of the features of Cairene life is the universal use of donkeys by all classes of the people; ancient women shrouded from head to foot in black gauze, old men with long grey beards, and noses not much shorter—their heads wrapped in turbans, and robes covering the donkeys’ backs—jogging along, rubbing against the British tourist, the latter looking anything but grave and serious on his Jerusalem pony. Our party certainly did not look more bizarre than others; but we should not feel inclined to enter Birmingham in the same state as we often entered and left Cairo.
One morning we got up early for a donkey-ride across the Nile to see, amongst other things, the garden and farm produce arrive from the country round. Crossing the Nile we turned down a fine avenue of sycamores, two or three miles long. The Khedive’s gardens lie on one side and the river at the other. Moored to the river bank was an Englishman’s dahabieh or Nile boat. A party had just returned from the cataracts, and on the upper deck we observed a dead crocodile. Riding by one palace towards another, we passed a crowd of people on their way to market, with bullocks, goats, camels laden with clover, women with the round cakes so common here, and a great variety of other things. Presently we sighted the Pyramids, one side lit up with the morning sun, while another was in deep shadow. The Sphinx was also plainly to be seen.
Leaving the Gizeh Road leading to the Pyramids we turned towards Cairo, our donkeys instantly knowing that we were homeward-bound, and needing no persuasion to gallop back to breakfast. On nearing the bridge we came upon hosts of camels, donkeys, and oxen laden with produce, and being assessed for the octroi or town-tax. The police were armed with long spikes, which they pushed into the load to ascertain if anything else was packed inside. It was an interesting scene—the busy crowd, the magnificent river, and the brilliant morning sunshine making up a picture not easily forgotten.
One of the most interesting drives in the neighbourhood of Cairo is to Heliopolis—part of the way lying through a fine avenue of acacias—and passing the old camping ground used as a rendezvous by the Mecca pilgrims. It is the old caravan road, and stretches far away into the desert, from which came to us a delightfully fresh breeze. We also passed the Abbaseyeh Palace, built by Abbas Pasha, who, fearing assassination, lived here in seclusion, keeping sentinels on the towers to give warning of the approach of a mob, and dromedaries and fleet horses always ready saddled for escape into the desert. He was, however, murdered at last in spite of all his precautions.
Along the road are some beautiful plantations of palms, oranges, and lemons, castor-oil and other plants growing in the greatest luxuriance. Heaps of oranges were lying on the ground. After driving through a fine olive plantation we came out upon an extensive plain, where, in 1517, Sultan Selim defeated the last of the Mameluke Dynasty, and made Egypt a Turkish province. Here too, in 1800, the French defeated the Turks and regained possession of Cairo. Our guide called a halt in order to show us a fine old sycamore, called the virgin’s tree, under which Joseph and Mary are said to have rested during their flight into Egypt. I asked Abaid if he believed the story. Placing his hand upon his heart and bowing his head, he replied, with something of the sententiousness of a Dr. Johnson, “Sir, I am a Christian!” I felt inclined to tell him that I also was a Christian, but that I did not believe it; but then why should I disturb his honest belief? Soon the obelisk of Heliopolis came in view, and we knew we were near it by the crowd of youngsters swarming round the carriage. But I adopted my old plan of being the first to ask for backsheesh, causing them to laugh so heartily that they could hardly take up the cry.
The obelisk is about 6ft. square at the base and about 68ft. high; it is the oldest in Egypt, and was erected by the founder of the twelfth dynasty. The inscriptions on its four sides give its history and the account of its erection about 3,000 B.C.
Heliopolis was called Bethshemish by the Jews, and in Exodus is called ON. It was here that Joseph married Asenath, the daughter of Potipherah, and where Moses became learned in the wisdom of the Egyptians. Here Plato and Herodotus studied, and Josephus says—“The city was given to the Children of Israel as their residence when they came down into Egypt.” The obelisk, as we see it, was old when Abraham came into the country; but, notwithstanding its venerable age and intensely interesting associations, it has not been too sacred for tourists who have been caught chipping pieces off the edges.
After lunch we drove to Bûlak, an interesting suburb of Cairo. The houses are very old, and the street-scenes very curious and thoroughly Eastern in character. The large overhanging windows and casements familiar in pictures are everywhere to be seen, and now and then a glimpse of a female face is caught peeping furtively out at the passers-by. The streets are very narrow, and the coachman yells and shouts at the foot-passengers in his way, not scrupling to apply the whip to quicken their movements. All this is taken patiently—far too much so—and betrays the saddest side of Egyptian character, speaking volumes for the way in which the people have been treated.
Hard by was a curious sight. Standing against a wall, and raised above the level of the street like another Simon Stylites, was a strange-looking man, whose only raiment consisted of a sack, through a hole in which one arm was thrust. In his hand he held a small instrument like a garden-rake, with which he tortured his back, while his gaze “seemed upon the future bent.” Some irreverent tourists looking on were presently moved to laughter at the peculiar exhibition, upon which the holy man gave them one glance of wonder and pity, and then resumed his gaze into futurity.
It being fair-day, there were a large number of booths, cheap theatres, peep-shows, merry-go-rounds, etc., just as one sees in England. In another place was a story-teller, surrounded by an appreciative audience, who treated every “point” with loud laughter. It was curious to see how earnest and interested they all were, and the dramatic manner in which the story was told.
The National Museum for Egyptian antiquities, founded by Mariette Bey, is situated in Bûlak. Our time being short, we proposed paying it another visit, which, however, we were unfortunately unable to do. Much of the sculpture is really marvellous in its life-like character. One of the most remarkable statues is of wood, and is said to be 4,000 years old. It is admirably carved. There is also a large collection of jewellery, beads, enamels, etc.; chess and draughtboards, an artist’s paint-box and brushes, bread, eggs, fruit, pieces of well-made rope and thread; an axe of gilt bronze, having a gilt cedar-wood handle; a gold boat with twelve silver oarsmen, and many other curiosities. The museum is one of the most interesting sights in Egypt, and will well repay many visits.
In the evening some of our party took donkeys and a guide and returned to Bûlak to see some of the shows, but the first they visited was of so extraordinary a character they decided to see no more until their taste was educated up or down to the present Egyptian standard.
The railway journey from Cairo to Alexandria occupied about 6½ hours. The line crosses the Delta of the Nile, the country being very flat all the way.
The soil here is extremely fertile, and it was very interesting to watch the various agricultural operations as we rode along. We particularly noticed the many modes in which water is supplied to the land. Alongside the railway runs a stream issuing from the Nile, and the different holdings of land are bordered with little streamlets in place of hedges.
At the junction of these streamlets with the main stream may frequently be seen a couple of men standing on either bank lifting water from the river to the streamlets by means of a huge flat bowl, holding probably eight to ten gallons. This vessel is lifted on either side by means of two long handles diverging from each other, and it is surprising how large a quantity of water can be thrown up by means of it in an hour. The bowl is always in motion with a fine swing, and it is evident the men are working on their own account.
Every station at which we stopped is crowded with people selling oranges, water, etc., and very clever they are at their business too, very persuasive, and as quick as thought to see if you are inclined to buy. The children are the merriest, liveliest things imaginable, with bright eyes and shining white teeth. Here also may be seen numbers of beggars, young and old, calling out eternal backsheesh. We saw some venerable old fellows, bent nearly double with age, and with hair and whiskers quite white, who entreated us piteously to help them, saying “Got no mother, got no father, backsheesh!” Such orphans as these never obtained our sympathy, although they afforded us great amusement.
While in Cairo, news came of the dissolution of Parliament by Lord Beaconsfield, and we hastened to Alexandria to take the steamer for Italy on the following day; but on arriving we found the weather so excessively rough that the steamers were detained: and, as there seemed no prospect of getting off, we determined to proceed to Port Saïd, by way of Ismailïa, in order to take the steamer sailing thence for Naples, hoping on some future occasion to be able to see what is to be seen in Alexandria. A day’s railway-ride brought us to Ismailïa, from which place we took the evening mail-boat to Port Saïd. The night was very cold, and after a seven hours’ trip on the Canal it was very pleasant to find ourselves in the magnificent hotel built by Prince Henry of the Netherlands, attached to the Dutch factory at Port Saïd.
One of the Orient Steamers was due to sail on the following day, and we expected to proceed to Naples in her, but after providing us with tickets the agent sent us word that she had been detained a week and that we must choose another vessel. There was no other way of escape than by taking the P. and O. Steamer “Mongolia” to Malta, trusting to being able to find a ready means of crossing to Naples from that place. Unfortunately a heavy storm in the Mediterranean had the effect of delaying our arrival in Malta some hours, and we had the mortification of seeing the Naples steamer leaving the harbour as we were entering it. We arrived on Monday and found there would not be another steamer until Thursday, and as the Birmingham election was to take place on Wednesday in the following week our chance of getting there seemed very doubtful. Leaving Malta, however, on the Thursday, by dint of almost continual travelling night and day, we arrived safely in Birmingham at half-past ten on the Wednesday morning, and proceeded at once to register our votes for Bright and Chamberlain, two of the three successful Liberal candidates.
After a stormy passage through the Mediterranean we turned in towards Port Saïd, and soon after sighting the handsome lighthouse took the French pilot on board, anchoring broadside on to the main street of the town and within fifty yards of the shore. A motley throng, in boats quite as motley soon filled up the space between the ship and the shore, and a wild jabber composed of a mixture of English, French, Italian, and Arabic filled the air. Presently the usual tribe of pedlars came on deck, and having spread out their wares invited the passengers to buy, somewhat after the fashion of London tradesmen in Cheapside hundreds of years ago with their cry of “What lack ye?” The inevitable Maltese with his lace, the Greek money-changer walking about with his hands full of silver offering to change, and astonishing the honest Britisher on his first voyage by his liberality in proffering twenty shillings for a sovereign—the rate of exchange, however, leaving him a very good profit. Near him is a Hebrew, whom I remember having seen at Aden, the black curls over his brow reminding one forcibly of Benjamin Disraeli. This man keeps to his trade of dealer in ostrich feathers.
Here also are gentlemen of the long robe—not lawyers, but Arabs, in ample white night-shirts and turbans—offering to young ladies in the most seductive tones, at two shillings each, coral necklaces, which can be purchased in Birmingham at three shillings the dozen, while dealers in photographs, melons, and oranges walk about always ready to take one-fourth of what they ask for their wares. Parallel with us are the quays, on which are crowds of people of all nationalities. The Custom House in front is occupied by a company of English artillerymen, the entrance being guarded by a British sentry, while overhead the Egyptian flag is flying. Away to the left is the old Dutch hotel, recently bought by the British Government, and now occupied by two hundred men of the Royal Marine Light Infantry.
Immediately in front of the ship is the main street of the town. It is perfectly straight and about half a mile long, with a small public garden near the end. In this street are a large number of casinos, where music is dealt out at nights by bands of female performers, who are called “Bohemiennes,” and where, we are assured, everything is properly respectable—until eleven o’clock! Many of our lady passengers, in the innocence of their hearts, looking forward to a pleasant concert during the evening, are much shocked when they learn that the said concerts are held in casinos.
We landed at ten o’clock, and had a leisurely walk through the town and halfway through the Arab quarter, but the smells were so offensive that we turned back. A lot of young Arabs, however, urged us to go on farther, for there was an Arab hanging, but as we did not think a dead Arab would be likely to be a more agreeable sight than a living one we declined. The culprit had been executed that morning for the murder of his grand-daughter, nine months previously. An account of his crime was written in Arabic and attached to his breast, and the large scissors with which he committed the murder were suspended around his neck. Some of the young Arabs were vexed with us because we would not give them backsheesh, and began to be insulting, talking about Arabi, when presently a smart youth of ten years old interfered, and, cuffing the ears of the young monkeys, loudly proclaimed the prowess of the British.
We went to look at the Dutch House where the Marines were quartered, and a young officer, Lieutenant Cotter, kindly asked us to go over the building. The rooms are very fine; but what a change in the scene since we slept here for a night two-and-half years ago! Then the hotel was in operation, and the rooms were furnished as elaborately as in the house of an English gentleman. But everything had been taken away, and the officers were sleeping on the marble floors, and the men on the floors of the adjoining warehouses, where also the horses were stabled. Lieutenant Cotter had made a bedstead for himself, and one of his men had made him a bath, and these, with a chair, completed the furnishing of his room; his wash-basin consisted of a large flower-pot, with a cork in the hole at the bottom. The Marines arrived in Egypt a few days after Tel-el-Kebir, and so saw no fighting; but they had to march over to Fort Gemileh, seven miles away, and fully expected a very severe fight, as the fort is heavily armed with modern guns, and was manned by Nubians, who are reported to be excellent soldiers. Fortunately, however, there was no need to fight, as the commander recognised that the war was over.
At night a number of our passengers, of all classes, went ashore to attend the concert, and one of them known as Cetewayo, alias the Carrib or the Pirate King, announced his intention of kicking up a great row at the casino (of course after eleven o’clock), and he was as good as his word, and others besides, several having to be locked up for the night. We visited the soldiers in the barracks, and they were very glad to have a chat. We sent them the newspapers we had brought from England; with which they were greatly pleased. They told us the numbers, variety, and voracity of the insects was something maddening; some being busy at night, and others during the day, and that it was almost impossible to keep oneself decent. Altogether Port Saïd must be a dreadful place for Englishmen to live in; there was very little society, and I was told that at the time there was only one unmarried lady left.
The commanding officer of the Marines told us that the principal duty they had to perform as “police” was to keep the English sailors and visitors in order, almost all the drunkenness and trouble coming from them—to our disgrace be it said.
The land all along the coast lies very low, and is not seen until the yellowish-green water near it is reached. The water is discoloured by the mud of the Nile, one of the mouths of which (the Tanitic) is situated a little to the west of Port Saïd. This ceaseless flow of mud was one of the greatest difficulties experienced in making the Canal, and necessitated important and expensive works to prevent its access to the harbour. Lake Menzaleh is formed by this Nile mouth, and covers an area of about 1,000 square miles. Good wildfowl shooting is to be had there, and there are numbers of flamingos and other birds. Port Saïd, as is well known, owes its origin to the Canal, and is situated on an island separating Lake Menzaleh from the Mediterranean. The town was expected by M. de Lesseps to progress very rapidly—indeed to rival Alexandria, but it has not gone ahead so fast as he expected. At present there are about 12,000 people there, and I should say more than half are Europeans. The town is built very regularly, and consists of rather temporary brick and wooden houses. The making of the harbour was a very difficult work. It occupies 570 acres, and is excavated to a depth of 26ft. Two massive piers protect it, running out to the sea in a north-easterly direction for about a mile and a half. At starting they are 1,440 yards apart, narrowing to 770 yards, the navigable entrance being about 150 yards wide. The piers are constructed of artificial stone, composed of seven parts of sand from the desert, and of one part of hydraulic lime from France. The concrete was mixed by machinery, and then poured into great wooden moulds, where it remained for weeks, after which the wood was taken away to allow of the blocks hardening. Each block weighed twenty tons, and contained 13½ cubic yards; no fewer than 25,000 of these blocks were used in constructing the breakwater. The lighthouse is a very handsome structure, and is also formed of blocks of concrete; it is 164ft. high, and can be seen twenty-four miles away, being fitted with the electric light. (Baedeker).
At 4.30 p.m. our vessel started for the Canal, and having safely entered it made fast for the night, as no travelling is allowed after sunset. During the evening myriads of gnats and mosquitoes came on to the ship, the electric light being absolutely dimmed by them in many places, and we had good reason to expect a trying night from their presence.
While our ship’s doctor and a party of friends were ashore at Port Saïd they were greatly amused by the attention of a number of Arab lads who followed them everywhere. During their walk in the native quarter the party came upon a great crowd, and one of the young Arabs referring to the man who had been hanged during the morning stated that the man was not an Arab, but a Greek, and proceeded to explain the distinguishing characteristics of the various nationalities represented at this cosmopolitan port; he said—
“The Greek, he bery bat man, he stab—so (with a vigorous motion as though stabbing an opponent in the chest).
“’gyptian, he bery goot man, he only slap, so.
“English man, he bery goot man (striking an attitude); he say ‘Come on and box.’
“English man—he bery goot man.
“English man—he bery goot man.
“Melikan man—he bery goot man.
“Melikan man—he bery goot man.
“’talian man—he bery bat man.”
Ending with a very uncomplimentary allusion to our Irish fellow-subjects.
What is wanted to make Port Saïd really prosperous is a railway from the interior to bring the produce from the cotton and wheat fields, and then the steamers which bring the coals could at once load up for home, saving the necessity of going empty to Alexandria for their homeward freights. Last year 540,000 tons of coal were sold at Port Saïd, and all the ships which brought it had to go away empty. But so long as the Canal Company are entitled to all the Customs dues at Port Saïd, it is not to be expected that the Egyptian Government will favour the construction of such a line.
Some of our fellow-passengers were members of the Blue Ribbon Army, and although they were by no means obtrusive in supporting their views, being contented for the most part with wearing the “bit of blue”—others resented this reasonable liberty, styling it an impertinence, and formed themselves into an opposition Order, which they called the Red Ribbon Army, and they busied themselves in enlisting recruits. It was noticeable that, with the exception of an old roué or two, only young men with small heads and long legs, who, if they ever indulged in reading, confined their choice to books translated or adapted from the French, composed the rank and file, the officers being older men, who were not often seen out of the gambling or smoke-room. One of these latter was called the “Spider,” because from an early hour in the morning he sat in the smoke-room waiting to “play” with any who might choose to try conclusions with him.
The Patron and President of the Society was a noble lord, and certainly a better choice could not have been made. Amongst the rules of the Society were these:—
Any member found without his red ribbon is to be fined in drinks all round.
Members are to be neither too drunk nor too sober.
Members must never go to bed quite sober.
Members must never refuse a drink.
The President certainly set a fair example in his endeavour to perform the duties of his office, and would never be mistaken for a member of the Blue Ribbon Army, even if he did not wear the badge, for good wine had marked him for its own. Under the fostering influence of such rules and such a “noble” example, it is not to be wondered at that the Army showed a blatant front to the enemy, and that their proceedings soon became disorderly. At this juncture some good-natured moderate men joined the Reds, with the view, it appears, of moderating their offensive tactics, and the result was a manifesto which set forth, amongst other things—That the Red Ribbon Army entertained no feelings of ill-will toward those who did not agree with them, and invited all to join their ranks, and that they assured abstainers that there was always iced water on the sideboard of the smoke room for their convenience. One of the chiefs of the Reds was a dark man, already referred to as Cetewayo, alias the Carrib. I one day heard this worthy call one of the Reds to account for appearing without his badge, the defaulting member replying that he had “resigned.” “That won’t do,” said the Carrib, “Once a member always a member; come and pay up.” Yes, I thought, when the devil has once got his claws in a man retreat is all but impossible.
Every one of the young fellows who joined the Reds fell into the “Spider’s” web, and were most of them eased of their spare cash through the agency of a pack of cards.
This “Spider” was one day on deck sitting by the side of one of my friends who had just awaked from a doze, to whom he said, “You have had a nap?” “Yes,” I said, “Mr. — takes his nap on deck in the face of day, but you have yours in the dimness of the smoke-room” (alluding to the game of “Nap”). “That’s true,” said he, “I like to play when the light is somewhat dull. These fellows say I am always winning. Well, suppose I am? They keep coming to me, and in Melbourne if they consult an expert on any subject they have to pay two guineas, and I take no less.” “You take no less, and don’t refuse more,” said I. “Exactly, that is just it,” said the Spider, and he was said to have cleared out most of the card-playing fraternity. Ultimately, the almost unvaried success of the Spider caused a general feeling to be raised against him amongst the gamblers; but as long as there still remained some who had not been relieved of their money, and others whom the Spider had allowed to win from him occasionally, this feeling did not exist to any great extent. One evening, however, the Pirate charged the web-spinner with having cheated him, and a general disturbance ensued, the Pirate assuring the Spider that as soon as they quitted the ship he would soundly thrash him with a whip, which he displayed, so we were in hopes of having a little excitement on leaving the vessel. One result, however, was to practically dissolve the Red Ribbon army, and the Carrib then came out in a new character. At the fancy dress ball held on the promenade deck he appeared in a dress suit, and was at once saluted with the cry, “Here’s a lark, Cetewayo disguised as a gentleman!”
The noble President of the Reds was somewhat of a curiosity in his way, a very kind-hearted sympathetic man, as many a poor invalid in the second and third classes could testify. The doctor told us of many instances of his lordship’s kindness in visiting some of the sick third-class passengers, and giving them dainties from his private stores; and I heard one poor woman tell him she should never forget him for his goodness to her husband. Some of our colonial passengers, wishing to make the most of their unusual proximity to nobility, were too persevering in their attentions to his lordship, and evidently bored him; but the tact with which he “shunted” them, and the studied politeness of his language, did not prevent onlookers detecting a silent “confound their impudence” terminating each reply.
Cetewayo Disguised as a Gentleman
Once, in referring to the pertinacity of these people, he remarked to a bystander, in a hissing tone, “One must be civ-il.” The noble lord took a great interest in everything pertaining to sailors; his regard for them was evidently warm and genuine. While we were passing through the Canal, coming to our anchorage for the night, we found the space at our disposal was very limited, as the vessels were numerous, consequently our men had to be very active in getting the ship into her berth. I was standing by his lordship’s side, looking at the sailors running along the sandbank, carrying the heavy cable as nimbly as though it was a fishing line. Lord — was delighted, and, turning to me, and in his funny fashion grasping his clothes in front of the place where his stomach should be, exclaimed in tones of rapture, “Look at our de-ah blue-jackets, look!”
His lordship was very popular with the young men on board, but I hope he did not often make such observations to them, as one young gentleman informed me he had made to him, speaking of his past life. “I have committed many sins in my time,” said his lordship, “and I hope to live to commit many more.”