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IMPRESSIONS OF TRAVEL

EGYPT AND ARABIA PETR^EA.

LE SINAI.

(IMPRESSIONS DE VOYAGES.)

A. DAUZATS ET ALEXANDRE DUMAS.

NEW-TORK:
FOREIGN AND CLASSICAL BOOK-STORE,
94, BROADWAY. 1839.

IMPRESSIONS OF TRAVEL,

IN

EGYPT AND ARABIA PETR^A.

BY ALEXANDER DUMAS.

TKANaL^TED FKOH THK FRENCH

BY A LADY OF NEW-YO

NEW-YORK:
PUBLISHED BY JOHN S. TAYLOR,
BRICK-CmmCH CHAPEL, OPPOSITE
THE CITT HAIL.
1839.

^fi-CL.. 8 30

Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1839, by
EDWARD S. GOULD,
-;-;la-th»Xasfk's Office of thc District Court ofthe United States, for the Southern
j^^' " - District of New-Yorlt.

^

Geo. F. Hopkins, Printer, 2, Ann-atfoet-

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.
Alexander Dumas is a man of fine talents
and high attainments ; he occupies an eleva
ted position among contemporary French
writers ; and the annunciation of his name
as the author of the following work is a suf
ficient guarantee for the accuracy and interest
of its details.
Mr. Dumas made the tour here described
in the year 1830, but deferred its pubhcation
until 1838. Mr. De Behr, of New-York, re
published the book in February, 1839.
The translation, — made from the New-
York edition and now submitted to the pub
lic, — is altogether free : the author's st^yle, as
well as his French, is put into an English
dress ; and although, in the process, much of
the beauty of the original is necessarily lost,

translator's preface. vii
almost verbatim from the pages of Joinville ;
it is not easy to imagine the author's motive
for introducing them at such unconscionable
length ; but it is certain that the reader will
lose nothing of what the title-page induces
him to expect, — by closing the book at the
end of the eleventh chapter.
Mr. Dumas evidently pursued his journey
beyond the point where he ceases to describe
it : but as some months have elapsed since
the pubhcation of the narrative in Paris, and
as no continuation of it has yet been issued
or announced, he probably has determined
not to give to the world an account of his
visit to Palestine.
New-York, March, 1839.

TABLE OF CHAPTERS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
Alexandria,  13
CHAPTER II.
Damanhour — Rosetta, .... 37
CHAPTER HI.
Cairo,  56
CHAPTER IV.
MuRAD — The Pyramids, .... 85
CHAPTER V.
Visit to Colonel Selves, and to Clot-Bey, 108
CHAPTER VI.
The City of the Caliphs, . . .123
CHAPTER VII.
The Desert,  142

CHAPTER Vni. PAGE
The Beavildering Valley, . . .172
CHAPTER IX.
The Monastery of Sinai  191
CHAPTER X.
Mount Horeb — The Route to Tor, . . 214
CHAPTER XI.
The Khamseen — The Governor of Suez, 239
CHAPTER XII.
St. Louis at Damietta, . . . .261
CHAPTER XIII.
The Battle of Mansoura, . . 279
CHAPTER XIV.
The House of Fakreddin-Ben-Lokman, . 301

IMPRESSIONS OF TRAVEL

EGYPT AND ARABIA PETR^A.

CHAPTER I.

ALEXANDRIA.

On the 22d of April, 1830, about six o'clock in the
evening, we were interrupted in the middle of our
dinner by shouts of land ! land I which rang along
the deck of the brig Lander, as she was conveying
Messrs. Taylor, Mayer, and myself to Egypt. We
ran up the companion-way, and, by the last rays of
the setting sun, greeted the ancient soil of the Ptole
mies. Alexandria is a belt of sand, a broad, glittering
ribbon, rolled out on the surface of the water. At its
extreme left, and forming one of the horns of a cres
cent, is Canopus, or Aboukir, — just as the defeat
of Antony, or the victory of Murat,* is present to one's
mind. Nearer to the city stand Pompey's Pillar and
Cleopatra's Needle, the only remains of the city of
the Macedonian. Between these two monuments,
and near a palm-grove, is the viceroy's palace, a
miserable white edifice, erected by Italian builders.
On the other side of the port, relieved against the
sky, is a square tower, constructed by the Arabs, at
the foot of which the French army disembarked under
the conduct of Napoleon. Alexandria, the old queen
* Possibly an EngJwAman might have thought of Nelson in thia
connexion. 2

14 ALEXANDRIA.
of Lower Egypt, ashamed, no doubt, of her vassal
age, has long hidden herself behind the waves of the
desert ; where she sits like an island of stone on an
ocean of sand.
All these had successively risen, as if by magic,
from the sea, while we gradually approached the
shore. No one but an artist who had long dreamed
of such a voyage, and who had, like us, touched at
Palermo and Malta, (those two relais of the East,)
can comprehend our feelings as, towards the close of
a beautiful day, on a calm sea, amid the shouts of the
sailors, and under a horizon lit up as by the reflection
of a fire, we beheld this ancient land of Egypt before
tis, naked and glowing, — this mysterious ancestress
of the world ! to whom she has bequeathed, as an
enigma, the undecipherable secret of her civilization.
Recovering ourselves from these thoughts, with
which, for a time, our minds were wholly occupied,
we began some hasty preparation to disembark ; but
Captain Ballanger stopped us, smiling at our eager
ness. Night, which descends rapidly in these eastern
climes, had begun to tarnish the brilliant horizon ;
and by the last light of day we saw the silvery waves
breaking against a chain of rocks that almost entirely
enclosed the harbour. It would have been impru
dent, even with the aid of a Turkish pilot, to attempt
tin entrance into the port ; and it was not at all prob
able that any of these marine guides, strangers to our
impatience, would venture on board of us at night.
Nothing, therefore, remained for us but patience
till the morrow. I cannot answer for my fellow-
travellers ; but, for my own part, I was unable to
close my eyes. Two or three times during the night
I went on deck, hoping to discover something by the

ALEXANDRIA. 15
aid of the stars ; but not a light gleamed from the
shore, — not an echo came from the city. It seemed
as ifwe were a hundred leagues from land.
At length the day dawned. A yellowish fog en
veloped the coast, which was distinguishable only by
a long line of denser vapour. We did not, however,
make the less exertion to reach the port. By de
grees, the veil which covered this mysterious Isis,
without being drawn aside, became less thick, and,
as if through gauzes more and more transparent, we
gradually beheld again the landscape of the preced
ing evening.
When we were about a hundred yards from the
breakers, our pilot made his appearance. He came
in a four-oared boat, that had two great eyes painted
on her prow, which were fixed on the water as if to
discover its hidden rocks.
He was the first Turk I had ever seen ; for I do
not consider the date-venders on the Boulevards, or
the em-plo-yes of the Sublime Porte sometimes seen
at the Theatre, as real Turks. I therefore beheld the
honest Mussulman with the undisguised curiosity of a
traveller who, wearied of all known men and things,
and coming eight hundred leagues to see new ones,
eagerly grasps at the picturesque the moment he
discovers it, and claps his hands with joy at finding
the strange and unknown which he had journeyed so
far to seek.
He was doubtless a worthy son of the Prophet, —
with his long beard, ample and showy garb, slow and
deliberate movement, and slaves to fill his pipe and
carry his tobacco. He now gravely ascended the
vessel's ladder, saluted the captain (whom he recog
nised by his uniform) by crossing his hands over his

16 ALEXANDRIA.
breast, and then took his post at the helm, vacated
for him by our own pilot. I could not keep my eyes
off the man. In a few minutes, his face contracted
as if he had some foreign substance in his throat,
which he could neither bring up nor swallow. At
length, after astonishing eflforts, he succeeded in pro
nouncing these two words : " a droite." It was full
time. In another second they would have strangled
him. After a slight pause, the same paroxysm re
commenced ; but now it was to say, " a gauche."
Indeed, these were the only French phrases that he
knew ; his education in our language was restricted
to the minimum of necessity.
This vocabulary, however, scanty as it was, suf
ficed to procure us an excellent anchorage. Baron
Taylor, Captain Bellanger, Mayer and I hurried over
a collection of boats at anchor, and gained the shore.
It is impossible to describe my sensations as I touch
ed the land ; and, indeed, I had no leisure for senti
ment, as an unexpected incident put my ecstacy to
flight. On the very edge of the wharf were ass-drivers
in waiting, as one sees the conductors of hacks, cab
riolets, etc. in Paris. In fact these men were every
where, — at the Tower, at Pompey's Pillar, at Cleo
patra's Needle, — and, to their praise be it spoken,
they surpass in officiousness the coachmen of Sceaux,
Pantin, and St. Denis. Before I had time to make
my selection, I was seized, carried off, put astride of
an ass, torn from my seat, placed on another, drag
ged from this again, and thrown upon the sand. All
this took place so rapidly, in the midst of cries and
cuffs, that I had no time to oppose the least resist
ance, I took advantage of the respite afforded by

ALEXANDRIA. 17
the combat between my persecutors over my pros
trate body, to look around me. I found that Mayer
was in a still more critical situation than I ; he was
entirely a prisoner, and, notwithstanding his vocife
rations, was carried off at a gallop by an ass and its
driver. I ran to his assistance, and succeeded in res
cuing him from the hands of the infidel. This done,
we darted down the first lane to escape this eighth
plague of Egypt, of which Moses had not forewarn
ed us ; but we were soon overtaken by our men,
who, for greater speed, had bestrode their quadru
peds, — thereby taking the advantage of cavalry over
infantry. This time I know not what might have
been the issue, had not some good Mussulmans, re
cognising us for Frenchmen by our dress, taken com
passion on us. Without saying a word, or informing
us by a gesture of their good intentions, they attacked
and dispersed our pursuers with thongs made of hip
popotamus's sinews ; and, having accomplished this
to our entire satisfaction, they moved off on their
own journey, without waiting for our thanks, or see
ing further to our welfare.
We entered the city, but had not proceeded a hun
dred steps, before we saw how rash we had been in
refusing to ride, even under compulsion. Asses are
the cabriolets of the country, and, owing to the mud,
it is impossible to do without them. The streets are
watered five or six times a day. This police reg
ulation is confided to the fellahs, who walk along
with a leathern jug under each arm, which they
squeeze — first one and then the other — to make
the water spirt out, accompanying each expression
with a double Arab phrase, pronounced in a monoto
nous tone, which signifies, "Look out, on the right ;

18 ALEXANDRIA.
look out, on the left." The character of this porta
ble irrigation, gives to its performers the appear
ance of bag-pipers, and converts the sand into a sort
of Roman cement, through which asses, horses and
dromedaries alone can pass without difficulty^ Chris
tians may traverse it with boots, but Arabs must
leave their slippers in it.
However, we were but at the commencement of
our troubles. Emerging from the dirty and narrow
street, we found ourselves in the midst of an infected
bazaar, — one of those mephitical foci to which the
plague comes once or twice in a year to gather the
putrid miasm, which she afterwards spreads through
out the city. But, although we made all haste to
cross it, such was the medley of bales, asses, mer
chants, and dromedaries, that for a time we were
jostled and wedged against the shops, without power
lo advance a step. We had just determined to turn
back, when we saw the Cadi, who, like him in the
" Arabian Nights," was making his rounds at the
head of his kaffas. As soon as he found the public
way obstructed, he directed his course towards the
crowd, and, with his aids, commenced pummelling
the backs and heads of the people. A breach was
instantly effected ; the Cadi passed on ; we follow
ed ; circulation was re established behind us, as a
river resumes its course. At a short distance fur
ther on, the Cadi took the right, and we the left ; he
to disperse another .assemblage, and we to go to the
Consul's. For more than half an hour, we passed through
narrow, irregular, and tortuous streets, the houses of
which all had projecting fronts. These, commencing
from the lower windows, kept encroaching from sto-

ALEXANDRIA. 19
ry to story upon the streets, until they nearly met in
the centre, and daylight was almost entirely obstruct
ed. On our route, we passed several mosques which
were not at all remarkable ; two or three only, in
the whole city, being ornamented with rnadenahs,*
and these not much elevated, having but one gallery.
At their doors, through which a giaour never passes,
some true believers were seated smoking, or playing
Tnangallah.-\ At length, after wandering around
more than an hour, we arrived at the Consul's.
Mons. de Mimaut received us with great kindness.
A distinguished man of letters — an indefatigable an
tiquary — a jealous supporter, not only of the rights,
but also of the dignity of our nation, — every French
man was sure of receiving from him hospitality as a
traveller, protection as a compatriot. He received
us in a large room formerly occupied by Bonaparte,
Kleber, Murat, Junot and others, the bravest and
most renowned generals of the Egyptian expedition.
The greater part of these adopted the oriental style
of living on their arrival, and the use of coffee and
pipes became a part of their daily relaxation. They
smoked on large divans which encircled the room ;
and our host pointed out to us the stains which the
smoke of their long pipes had left on the wall. I state
this to show how well the most minute particulars of
their sojourn in Egypt are remembered.
After an animated conversation, such as would nat-
* A sort of belfry, from the top of which the ¦muezzin calls the faith
ful to prayer.
t A piece of solid wood, of an oblong form, ordinarily of oak or
cedar ; demi-spherical holes are made in it, and it is frequently en
cased in mother-of-pearl. The game is a kind of back-gammon, at
which each party plays with thirty-six shells.

20 ALEXANDRIA.
urally occur between compatriots meeting at this dis
tance from home, and during which M. Taylor de
clared the purpose of his expedition, and the mission
to the Pacha with which he was charged, we called
for guides and asses, being by this time cured of our
fancy for walking. We then set forward for the
gate Mahmoudie, which leads to the ruins of ancient
Alexandria. Secure from the mud, and quietly seat
ed on our beasts, we could now devote our attention
to the peculiarities of the country. To us, Parisians,
every thing was a matter of surprise : all physical
and social order seemed overthrown ; the very sky
and earth were unique ; the language bore no anal
ogy to any other ; the manners and customs of the
people were strange and new. Our habits of life
were here reversed. We shave our chins and let
our hair grow ; the Mussulmans shave their heads
and let their beards grow. We punish bigamy and
denounce concubinage ; they sanction the one, and
give full license to the other. Woman, with us, is a
wife, a sister, a friend : here, she is nothing but a
slave, and the most miserable of all slaves : she is a
prisoner ; none but her master approaches her habi
tation : the greater her beauty, the greater is her
misery ; her life is suspended by a thread : if her veil
rises, her head falls !
After passing the gate, we turned aside a little to
view a small hillock which bears the pompous name
of Fort Bonaparte. The city of Alexandria lies so
low, that the French engineers had only to throw to
gether a few spades-full of earth, and surmount the
embankment with a battery, to force it to surrender.
While contemplating this modern memento, our
thoughts were carried back into antiquity. Ancient

ALEXANDRIA. 21
Egypt, that Egypt which came down from Ethiopia
with the Nile, exists no longer save in the ruins of
Elephantina and of Thebes. Trojan Memphis suc
ceeded them ; and under its walls the empire of the
Pharaohs, bequeathed by Cambyses to his successors,
fell with Psammenitus. Darius then reigned : his do
minion extended from the Indus to the Euxine ; from
Jaxartes to Ethiopia. Continuing the labour of his
predecessors, who for a century and a half held Asi
atic Greece in bondage ; and who sometimes with
myriads of men, sometimes with gold and intrigue,
but never with complete success, attacked European
Greece ; Darius contemplated a third campaign over
this familiar battle-field. Then it was that, in a
province of that Greece, bounded East by mount
Athos, West by Illyria, North by Hoemus, and South
by Olympus, a young king aged twenty-two arose, who
resolved to overthrow this immense empire, and to
eflfect what Cimon, Agesilaus, and Philip had vainly
attempted. This king was Alexander.
He raised thirty thousand infantry ; four thousand
five hundred cavalry ; assembled a fleet of a hundred
and sixty galleys ; supplied himself with seventy tal
ents and provisions for forty days ; set forth from
Pella ; ranged along the coast of Amphipolis ; passed
the Strymon and the Hebrus ; arrived in twenty days
at Sestos ; landed without opposition on the shores
of Asia Minor ; visited the kingdom of Priam ;
crowned with flowers the tomb of Achilles, his
maternal ancestor ; crossed the Granicus ; beat the
Satraps ; killed Mithridates ; conquered Mysia and
Lydia ; took Sardis, Miletus, and Halicarnassus ; sub
dued Galatia ; traversed Cappadocia ; subjugated
Cilicia ; encountered the Persians on the plains of

22 ALEXANDRIA.
Issus, and scattered them before him like dust ; ad
vanced to Damascus ; came down to Sidon ; took
and sacked Tyre ; passed three times around the
walls of Gaza, dragging at his chariot wheels its
governor, Boetis, as Achilles had formerly dragged
Hector ; sacrificed to the God of the Jews at Jerusa
lem, and to the Egyptian deities at Memphis ; de
scended the Nile ; visited Canopus ; passed around
the lake of Mareotis ; and, arriving at its northern
shore, was so much struck with the beauty and
strength of the countr}', that he determined to found
a rival to Tyre. He accordingly commanded Dy-
nocrates, the architect, to build the city of Alex
andria. The architect addressed himself to the task. He
traced a circuit of seventy-five thousand feet, to
which he gave the form of a Macedonian mantle.
He divided his city by two principal streets, so that
the Etesian winds, which blew from the north, might
refresh it. One of these streets extended from the
sea to the lake of Mareotis ; it was ten stadii, or fif
ty-five hundred feet, in length : the other crossed
this at right angles, reached from one extremity of
the city to the other, and was forty stadii, or twen
ty-five thousand feet, in length. Each street was two
thousand feet in width.
The new city, unlike other large towns, did not
grow gradually : she rose at once. Alexander paus
ed only to lay the foundation. He then set forth for
the Temple of Ammon, whose priests he forced to
acknowledge him as the son of Jupiter. At his re
turn, the new Tyre was built and peopled. Its foun
der continued his victorious career. Alexandria,
lying between the lake and her two ports, listened to

ALEXANDRIA. 23
the sound of his footsteps as they approached the
Euphrates and the Tigris ; the east-wind wafted to
her the noise ofthe battle of Arbela ; she heard the
thunder of the fall of Babylon and Suza ; she saw
the horizon redden with the conflagration of Perse-
polis ; and at length the reverberating echoes of this
distant tumult were hushed behind Ecbatana, in the
deserts of Media, on the other side of the river Arius.
Eight years after, a funeral-car entered the gates
of Alexandria. It rested on two axletrees, to which
four Persian wheels were attached : the spokes and
fellies of these wheels were gilded : heads of lions,
in massive gold, with lances in their mouths, orna
mented the hubs. The car had four poles, to each
of which was affixed a quadruple row of yokes, and
to each yoke four mules. On the head of each mule
was a crown of gold, golden bells on each side of
their jaws, and collars of precious stones around their
necks. This chariot sustained a vaulted, golden
room, eight cubits in width and twelve in length.
The dome was decorated with rubies, carbuncles,
and emeralds. In front of this chamber was a gold
en peristyle, upheld by Ionic columns. Within the
peristyle were four pictures. The first represented
a superb chariot, in which was a warrior, seated,
with a sceptre in his hand : around him marched
the Macedonian guard and the Persian battalion.
The second represented a train of elephants, prepar
ed for battle, Indians mounted on their necks, and
Macedonians on their backs. The third represented
cavalry in melee. The fourth exhibited a squadron
of ships, in order of battle, preparing to attack a hos
tile fleet in the distance. Above the chamber, that
is, between its ceiling and the roof, the space was oc-

24 ALEXANDRIA.
cupied by a quadrangular throne of gold, ornamented
with figures in relief, to which golden rings were ap
pended, bearing garlands of flowers that were daily
renewed. Above the whole was a golden crown, of
such huge dimensions that a tall man could stand up
right within it ; and when the rays of the sun fell on
it, it shone with inconceivable splendour. In the
chamber lay the lifeless body of Alexander, em
balmed in aromatics, and enshrined in a coffin of
massive gold.
One of the eleven captains whom the death of
their general had made kings, was the chief mourn
er. In the great division of the world which was
made over this coffin, Ptolemy, son of Magas, took
Egypt, Cyrenaica, Palestine, Phoenicia, and Africa for
himself. He also changed the original destination of
the corse ; claiming for the city which Alexander had
reared, the immortal honour of conferring the rites of
sepulture on his remains ; and thereby preserving to
his own descendants a palladium which secured the
empire for three centuries and a half.
From this period Alexandria was styled " The
Queen," as Tyre and Athens had been, and as Rome
was to be. Each of her sixteen kings and three
queens added a precious stone to her diadem. Ptole
my, called Soter (or Saviour) by the Rhodians, built
the tower of Pharos ; connected the island of that
name with the continent by a causeway ; transported
the images of the god Serapis from Sinope to Alex
andria, and founded the famous library which was
burnt by Csesar. Ptolemy 11. ironically called Phil
adelphia from his persecutions of the princes of his
family, collected together the Hebrew books of the
Old Testament, and caused them to be translated

ALEXANDRIA. 25
into Greek ; which translation is now known by the
designation, "The Septuagint." Ptolemy III. (the
Benefactor) sought in Bactriana and restored the gods
of ancient Egypt, which Cambyses had carried off to
the mouths of the Nile. The Theatre, Museum,
Gymnasium, Stadium, and Pannion arose under the
successors of the Ptolemies. Subsequently to these,
six immense canals were constructed : four connect
ed the waters of the Nile with the lake of Mareo
tis ; the fifth led from Alexandria to Canopus ; and
the sixth traversed the entire isthmus, divided the
Rhacotian quarter, and, having commenced at port
Kibetos, threw itself into the lake by the gate of
the Sun.
Nothing now remains of the ancient isle but the
causeway, enlarged by accretion, and on which the
new city is built. In the midst of ruins almost with
out form, but which, nevertheless, can be recognised
as those of the Baths, Library, and Theatre, there is
nothing standing but Pompey's Pillar, and one of
Cleopatra's Needles : the other has fallen, and is half
buried in the sand. All that was formerly an isl
and, — in the centre and at the eastern extremity of
which arose the citadel and the celebrated tower of
Pharos, which latter threw its beacon-light for fifty
thousand paces over the sea, — is now nothing but a
bare and sterile shore, that girds the city in the form
of a crescent.
Pompey's Pillar is a shaft of marble, surmounteti
with a Corinthian capital, and resting on solid mason
ry composed of ancient ruins and Egyptian frag
ments. The name it bears, and which has been
given to it by modern travellers, has no connex
ion with its origin. Indeed, if we may credit the
3

26 ALEXANDRIA.
Greek inscription, this monument is no older than
the time of Dioclesian. It has a slight inclination to
the South. The capital and base have never been
finished. I did not measure its height ; but it is lof
tier by two-thirds than the palm-trees around it.
Cleopatra's Needles, of which one (as I before re
marked) has fallen, are obelisks of red granite, having
three columns of hieroglyphics on each side. Pha
raoh Mceris, a thousand years before the Christian
era, drew them, as from a casket, out of the quarries
in the Lybian mountains, and placed them before the
Temple of the Sun, at Memphis. Alexandria covet
ed them from Memphis ; and Cleopatra, disregard
ing the remonstrance of the superannuated crone,
took them from her as jewels she was no longer
handsome enough to possess. The antique thimbles,
which served for the base of these obelisks, still re
main ; they rest on socles of three steps, are of Greco-
Romanic construction, and confirm the architectural
date of the received tradition, which affirms that their
second erection occurred about forty years before
Christ. We wandered about these ruins more than two
hours, with Strabo and Plutarch in our hands. Sud
denly and accidentally my eyes lit on Mayer's white
pantaloons, which were black from the foot to the
knee, and gray from the knee to the hip. I at first
thought that, in his haste to visit the ruins, he had
neglected to change the garments he wore as we
walked along the muddy streets of Alexandria ; but,
on a closer scrutiny, I perceived that this sombre hue,
which grew lighter as it receded from the ground,
was moveable. Instinctively, and with an undefinable
foreboding of evil, I gave one short look at mv own

ALEXANDRIA. 27
clothes : it was enough 1 the terrible truth was re
vealed ! we were covered with fleas ! I
The best resource in such a strait was the bath —
an eastern bath — the delicious refreshment of which
we had so often heard extolled. No time was to be
lost. We made signs to our guides for the asses ;
bestrid them with more or less dexterity, according
to our proficiency in horsemanship and our recollec
tions of Montmorency ; and returned to the city at
a gallop. But no sooner had we apprized our inter
preter of our purpose in coming back so suddenly,
than his face assumed a most disquieting expression
of alarm. The baths were closed to us for the day,
and it was as much as our heads were worth to at
tempt an entrance.
Saturday is set apart for female ablution exclu
sively ; and we saw troops of women from the ha
rems availing themselves of the privilege, enveloped
in white or black silk mantles, yellow slippers, etc.
Their faces are covered with a sort of mask, which
terminates in a point and is attached to the veil by a
chain of gold, pearl, or shells, according to the for
tune or caprice of the wearer. These women, who
never go out on foot, were mounted on asses, and
conducted by a eunuch, who preceded them with a
cane in his hand. We saw squadrons containing
sixty, eighty, and even a hundred females.
The next morning I presented myself at the baths
the moment they were opened. After the mosque,
the bath is the finest embelUshment of oriental cities.
The one to which I was conducted is a vast edifice
of simple architecture, and neatly ornamented. At
the entrance is a large vestibule, having rooms on
the right and left for the reception of cloaks, and, in

28 ALEXANDRIA.
the rear, a door hermetically closed. Through this
door you pass into a room warmer than the sur
rounding atmosphere, and from this (as I afterwards
learned) you may retreat if you choose ; but put your
foot in one of the adjoining closets, and you are no
longer your own master : two attendants seize you,
and, for the time, you are the property of the estab
lishment. Much to my surprise, this was my predicament.
I had scarcely entered a closet, when two strong
men belonging to the bath laid hold of me, and, in
an instant, I was stripped to the skin. One ofthem
then passed a linen shawl around my waist, while
the" other buckled on my feet a pair of gigantic clogs,
which at once made me a foot taller. This mode of
shoeing not only rendered flight impossible, but, by
its clumsy elevation, destroyed my equilibrium ; and
I should inevitably have fallen, had not the two men
supported me on either side. I was fairly caught ;
I could not retreat, and therefore suffered them to
lead me whither they would.
We passed into another room. Here, whatever
might be my resignation, the vapour and heat stifled
me. I thought that my guides had mistaken the way,
and trundled me into an oven. I tried to .shake them
off, but my resistance was anticipated. Besides, 1
was in no condition for a trial of strength, and was
obliged to confess myself vanquished. In a few mo
ments I was astonished at perceiving that,tis the per
spiration poured from me, my lungs began to dilate,
and my respiration returned. In this state I passed
through five or six rooms, the heat of which increas
ed so rapidly that I began to believe man had for
five thousand years mistaken his proper element.

ALEXANDRIA. 29
and that his appropriate destiny was boiling or
roasting. At last we came to the furnace. Here the fog
was so dense that I could not see two steps before
me, and the heat so entirely insupportable that I
partly fainted. I shut my eyes, and resigned myself
to my guides in utter helplessness. After leading, or
rather carrying me a few steps further, they took off
my girdle, unhooked my clogs, and extended me,
half swooning, on something like a marble table in
the middle of the apartment.
Here, again, I soon became accustomed to the
infernal atmosphere. I prudently took advantage of
the gradual return of my faculties, and looked about
me. With my other senses, my sight revived ; and,
despite the fog, I made out with tolerable accuracy
the surrounding objects. My tormentors seemed to
have forgotten me for a moment : they were busy at
one side of the room. I lay in the centre of a large,
square saloon, incrusted, to the height of five or six
feet, with variously coloured marbles ; a series of
spouts threw out incessantly streams of smoking
water, which, falling on the pavement beneath, glided
thence into four basins, like cauldrons, at the four
corners of the room. On the surface of the water
in these basins was an indefinite number of bald
heads bobbing about, and expressing, by the most
grotesque contortions of face, various degrees of
felicity. This spectacle so occupied my attention,
that I scarcely heeded the return of my masters.
They came, however ; one with a large wooden bowl
of soap-suds, the other with a ball of fine hemp.
Suddenly one of the rascals inundated my face and
3*

80 ALEXANDRIA.
neck with his suds ; and the other, seizing me by the
shoulder, rubbed most furiously my face and breast
with his hemp. This treatment and the pain induced
by it were so perfectly intolerable, that all my pow
ers of resistance and resentment waked at once. I
bolted upright, kicked my hempen friend half across
the room, and planted my fist in the face of soap
suds with such good will that he lay sprawhng
on the floor. Then, knowing of no other remedy for
the soap, (which was blistering my skin,) I drew a
straight line for the basin that seemed the most in
habited, and boldly plunged in. I had misjudged.
The remedy was worse than the disease. Before,
my face and neck were cauterised : now, my whole
body was scalded : the water was boiling ! I yelled
with pain ; sprang on and over my neighbours, who
could not comprehend my case ; and got out of the
tub almost as rapidly as I got in. However, I was
not rapid enough to escape the effect of the ablution :
my body was as red as a lobster. I was stupified !
I must be dreaming, or riding a night-mare. Yet
there was no deception. Here, under my very eyes,
were men stewing in a broth of which I had tried the
temperature, who evidently took great delight in the
operation. What could it mean? My notions of
pleasure and pain became confused : they could enjoy
what to me was agon'y ! I once more resolved to
resign myself to fate. I doubted my own judgement.
I distrusted my own senses. I determined, again, to
submit to my tormentors. They came, having re
covered from my assault. I followed them without
resistance to another basin. They made signs to me
to descend the steps : I obeyed, and found myself in

ALEXANDRIA. 31
water of about 35 or 40 degrees.* This seemed to
me temperate.
From this I passed to another of a higher temper
ature, but still supportable. I remained in it, as in
the first, about three minutes. I then proceeded to
the third, which was still some ten or twelve degrees
hotter : and, finally, reached the fourth, where I had
commenced my hellish apprenticeship. I approach
ed it with the greatest repugnance, but I had made
up my mind to go through with my desperate adven
ture. I first dipped my toe in the water : it was
hot, certainly ; but not so scalding as before. I grad
ually immersed my whole body, and was surprised
to find it endurable. In a few seconds I thought no
more of it, though I am confident the heat of the wa
ter must have reached to 60° or 65°. When I
emerged, my skin had changed from the lobster
scarlet to a deep crimson.
My attendants now again took me in hand. They
replaced the linen around my waist, bound a shawl
on my head, and led me back through the rooms by
which I had entered (taking care to add to my cov
ering at each change of atmosphere) until I arrived
at the chamber where I was so unceremoniously
stripped. Here I found a good carpet and pillow.
My turban and girdle were taken off, I was envel
oped in a large woollen gown, laid down like an in
fant, and left alone.
I had now an undefinable feeling of comfort. I
was perfectly happy : yet, so exhausted, that when
* This probably refers to the scale of Celsius, or the IhermomHre
centigrade, 40° of which correspond to 102° of Fahrenheit : and 65°
of which (see following paragraph j are equivalent to 149° of Fahr.

32 ALEXANDRIA.
the door was opened, half an hour after, I had not
changed my position by the movement of a finger or
a muscle. The new comer was a sinewy and well-set Arab.
He approached my couch as if he had some business
with me. I looked on him with a sort of dread very
natural to a man who had passed such an ordeal as
I have described ; but I was too weak to attempt to
rise. He took my left-hand ; cracked all its joints,
and did the same to the right. After my hands, he
administered upon my feet and knees ; and, to finish
the matter, he dexterously threw me into the posi
tion ofa pigeon-to-be-broiled, and gave me the coup
de grace by cracking the vertebrae of my spine. I
screamed with terror, thinking my back-bone was
broken, to a certainty. My masseur then kneaded
my arms, legs and thighs for a quarter of an hour,
and left me. I was weaker than ever ; my joints all
pained me, and I had not strength sufficient to cover
myself with the carpet.
A servant now brought me coffee, pastiles, and a
pipe ; and left me to intoxicate myself with perfume
and tobacco. I passed half an hour in a drowsy state,
lost in the vagaries of a delicious inebriation, experi
encing a feeling of happiness before unknown, and
entertaining a supreme indifference to every (absent)
earthly thing.
I was awakened from this by a barber, who shav
ed me, and combed my whiskers and moustaches.
Next, my Arab returned, to whom I made signs that
I wished to depart. He brought my clothes, assisted
me in my toilet, and led me to the chamber opening ,
on the vestibule, where I found my cloak. The cost

ALEXANDRIA. 33
of this entertainment, which lasted three hours, was
a piastre and a half, or eleven sous of our money.*
I found asses at the door. Without waiting to be
urged, I mounted at once, and rode off at a foot
pace. Although near ten o'clock in the morning, the
air felt cool, owing to the contrast between the bath
and the atmosphere.
Returning to the Consul's, I learned that we were
that day to be received by Ibrahim Pacha, his father
being absent at Delta. The audience was appointed
for mid-day, and as I had two hours to spare, I went
to bed.
At the hour indicated, an officer of the prince ar
rived to conduct our cortege, which consisted of M.
de Mimaut, Baron Taylor, Captain Bellanger, Mayer,
and myself. The officer led the way, while we
were flanked by two kaffas, who prevented the rab
ble from impeding our progress, by beating them off
with sticks.
We met several corps of infantry enveloped in
the uniform recently introduced by the Pacha. The
dress consists of a red cap, red vest, red breeches,
and red slippers. The regiments thus present a most
unvarying aspect of red — save and excepting the
men's faces, which comprehend all the gradations of
colour, from the pale skin of the Circassian to the
ebony hide of the Nubian, and which all the Pacha's
efforts have failed to render uniform.
He has been equally unsuccessful in perfecting
their evolutions. In parading through the muddy
streets of Alexandria, to the sound of drums beating
French marches, they miss the step and cannot pre-
* About ten cents ofour currency.

34 ALEXANDRIA.
serve their ranks, because their red slippers will con
stantly stick in the mire, and they are obliged to
stop, or lose them. This never-ending manoeuvre,
which is not provided for in the " School of Infant
ry," so disorders the columns of the Egyptian troops,
that they might easily be mistaken for country mi
litia ; and the more readily, as, in this scorching air,
where every weight is a burden, each soldier carries
his gun in the way most convenient to his individu
al self.
At length we surmounted all obstacles, and arrived
at the palace. In the court we found a regiment of
these red troops under arms, awaiting our approach.
We passed through their ranks, mounted the stairs,
and traversed a suite of large, white, unfurnished
rooms, in the centre of each of which was a foun
tain. We paused in the last but one, where M. Tay
lor deposited the presents for the Prince Ibrahim,
consisting of armour for colonels of curassiers and
carabineers, fowling-guns and duelling-pistols. This
done, we entered the reception-chamber.
It resembled the others, and had no furniture ex
cepting an enormous divan, which went entirely
around the room. In its most obscure angle a lion-
skin was thrown on the divan ; and, on this lion-skin,
squatting down, one leg over the other, was Ibrahim ;
a rosary in his left-hand, his right hand playing with
his toes.
M. Taylor bowed to the Prince and sat on his
right, M. Mimaut at his left, and the rest of us where
we pleased. As soon as all were seated, Ibrahim
made a sign, and lighted pipes were brought. Du
ring the operation of smoking, we had time to ex
amine our host. He had a Greek bonnet on his head,

ALEXANDRIA. 35
wore the new military costume, and appeared to be
about forty years old. He was small, thick-set, ro
bust ; had lively, sparkling eyes, red face, and mous
taches and beard the colour of the Hon-skin on which
he sat.
When the pipes were smoked, coffee was brought
in. The offer of pipes and coffee is the highest cour
tesy that can be rendered to guests. In ordinary
cases, one or the other only is proffered. Ibrahim
then rose slowly, walked towards the door, and, fol
lowed by M. Taylor and the rest, entered the room
where the presents were deposited. He examined
them, one after another, with visible satisfaction.
The arms for the carabineers, ornamented with a
golden sun, pleased him particularly. After finishing
the inspection, he seemed to be seeking for some
thing else ; not finding what he desired, he address
ed some words to his interpreter, who, turning to M.
Taylor, said,
" His highness demands to know if you have thought
to bring him some champagne wine ?"
" Yes," interposed the Prince, accompanying his
words with a significant movement of the head, " yes,
champagne ! champagne !"
M. Taylor replied that he had anticipated the
wishes of his highness, and that several cases of the
wine were already deposited in the palace.
From this moment Ibrahim was in the most gra
cious humour. He returned to the reception-cham
ber, spoke much of France, which he regarded, he
said, partly in the light of his native country, as he
was the grandson ofa French woman. After this, as
a last act of honour to his guests, his slaves entered
with lighted pastilles, and, advancing towards us,

36 ALEXANDRIA.
perfumed our beards and faces. This ceremony
ended, M. Taylor arose and took leave of the Prince
by touching his (own) forehead, mouth, and breast ;
which, in the figurative and poetic language of the
East, signifies : my thoughts, my words, and my heart
are thine !
We returned to the Consul's in the same order
that we left it. In the evening, M. de Mimaut pro
posed to go to the Theatre. The company was in
different. The performance consisted of two vau
devilles of M. Scribe,

CHAPTER II.

damanhour.  ROSETTA.

That we might not waste our time at Alexandria,
M. Taylor, — who was obliged to remain there for
the Pacha, — sent Mayer and myself forward to sketch
the mosques of the city of the " Arabian Nights,"
which the Arabs call El Masr, and the French, Caire.*
On the morning of the 2d of May, we left Alexan
dria on asses followed by their drivers and our ser
vant, Mohammed.
This Mohammed was a Nubian, — young, vigor
ous, alert, and intelligent. He spoke a little French,
and wore the costume of his country, which is the
simplest, and, at the same time, the most picturesque
imaginable. It consisted of white trowsers and a
blue tunic, the wide sleeves of which are drawn back
and fastened by a silk cord that forms a cross in the
middle of the back. He wore on his head the tar-
bouch and a white turban ; from his shoulders hung
a black mantle, called abbaye ; his waist was girded
with a sash, in which stuck an ivory-handled poign-
ard ; his shrewd and intelligent face was set off to
advantage by long and flowing hair : moustaches fell
on either side of his perfectly formed mouth ; and his
* And the English, Cairo.
4

38 DAMANHOUR.
beard, scanty on the cheeks, united in a pointed tuft
at the chin.
Besides the drivers and our Nubian, our escort was
reinforced by two cavas, a sort of body-guard be
longing to the militia of the city, which the governor
of Alexandria granted us to facilitate our journey.
They were uniformed after the fashion of the old
Mamelukes, and their duty was to secure for us the
aid and protection of the Turkish authorities.
We followed the road which leads from Alexan
dria to Damanhour for some hours, when we came
to the Mahmoudie canal. This can be no other than
the ancient Fossa, which conducted the waters ofthe
Nile from Schedia to Alexandria. The defile was
guarded by Turkish troops, to whom we showed our
tekeriks, or passports. The commander bowed be
fore the hieroglyphics with which it was ornamented,
and told us we were at perfect liberty to continue
our route, but on foot and unattended by our escort.
We demanded an explanation of this strange decis
ion, and again presented our passports. His excel
lency replied, with another bow over the parchment,
that our laisser-passer was perfectly in order, bearing
in its centre the plan and elevation of Solomon's
Temple, and, at the four corners, the seals of Sala-
din and Solyman, with the sabre and hand of justice
of Mahomet ; but it contained not a word about our
servants, asses, and drivers. We called the cavas to
our assistance ; but they gave no opinion on the mat
ter. They, however, advised the offer af a dozen
piastres to the captain of the guard. As the Egyp
tian piastre is about eight sous of our currency, we
did not hesitate to follow the advice. The effect of
the bribe was instantaneous. The barriers were

DAMANHOUR. 39
opened ; and we, our beasts and our men passed
through triumphantly. Our cavas left us here : we
found them of no further service than to dictate our
bribes — a duty to which we were ourselves fully
competent. The municipality of Alexandria, in con
ferring on us the favour of their escort, had only im
posed on us a couple of sponges, incapable of any
thing but exacting a reward for nothing. However,
on discharging them, we gave them the batchis; which
is the pour-boire of France, the trink-geld of Germa
ny, the btiona-mano of Italy, and the golden-key of
all nations.
After following the borders of the canal for about
two hours, through a flat, unvaried country, we
halted at the door of a Greek, named Tuitza, who
received us into his small, square house, and per
mitted us to eat in a shady place, provided we would
furnish our own breakfast and give him a share of it.
This is after the manner of Sicilian hospitahty, where
travellers always feed the innkeepers.
The road from Alexandria to Damanhour is re
markable for nothing but its sterility. We waded
through a sea of sand, in which our attendants and
asses sank knee-deep. Occasionally we were blind
ed by gusts of hot wind mixed with dust ; and we
knew, from the momentary oppression at our lungs,
as it passed, that we were encountering the burning
breath of the Desert. Here and there, on either
hand, were circular villages, built on the rising
ground, which, during the overflow of the Nile, be
come islands. The houses are of a conical form,
built of brick and earth, and pierced with small,
square holes, designed to admit just as much light as
is strictly necessary, with just as little heat as possi-

40 DAMANHOUR.
bie. At intervals, too, we passed several isolated
tombs of hermits and dervises, each shaded by a
palm tree ; that consecrated friend of the sepulchre,
around the tops of which clouds of shrieking hawks
flew at our approach.
It was nearly three o'clock when we perceived
Damanhour in the distance. This was the first re
ally Arabian city that we had seen ; for Alexandria,
with its cosmopolitan population, is nothing but a
medley of divers nations, whose distinctive characters
and peculiarities are gradually wearing away by
contpot. Damanhour, through the mirage, appeared like an
island enclosed by water and mist ; but, as we ap
proached, the vapours of this seeming lake gradually
disappeared, and the city assumed its proper aspect.
Our shadows lengthened in the last rays of the set
ting sun, and the palm-trees gracefully waved their
parasols of verdure to the evening breeze, as we
reached the gates, and paused a moment to admire
the beautiful madenehs, striped alternately with white
and red, and darting their slender forms high above
the walls of the mosques.
Indeed, the landscape on all sides was, to us, equaU
ly novel and picturesque. A pure, transparent sky,
with a delicacy of colouring that no pencil could im
itate ; small lakes closely bordering the city, reflect
ing its walls in their sleeping waters ; long files of
camels, led by Arabian peasants, slowly gliding
through the gates, — all gave to this wonderful pic
ture an air of reality, repose and sweetness most grat
ifying to us after the dreary and lifeless scene through
which our day's journey had taken us.
There is but one hotel in Damanhour, although it

DAMANHOUR. 41
has a population of eight thousand souls. Moham
med, after leading us through streets of wild origi
nality, brought us to this all-desired caravansary,
which we had by anticipation, and after the descrip
tion in the " Arabian Nights," looked on as enchant
ed ground. Unfortunately, we were not permitted to
compare, closely, romance with reahty. The hotel
was thronged ; and, despite our proffers and entrea
ties, we were obliged to return. Already much dis
appointed in many things, I still recollected that Ara
bian hospitality was greatly vaunted by travellers and
celebrated by poets. I therefore begged Moham
med to make some efforts in our behalf at the most
comfortable looking houses on our route. But all
was in vain ; and, mortified with the rebuffs to which
we had exposed ourselves, we were obliged to rejoin
our company, who, more prudent than we, and desi
rous to save themselves unnecessary steps, were wait
ing for us at the gate.
There was now but one course to pursue. I look
ed around for a comfortable place to encamp, found
a clump of date-trees, and had our carpets unrolled
under their branches. I then set an example of re
signation to the decrees of Providence, by tightening
the waistbands of my pantaloons, lying down and
turning my back on the inhospitable city.
Unluckily for my repose, in an opposite direction
from the city, and exactly in the semicircle embraced
by my vision as I lay, was a charming Arabian house
with white walls, standing out from a grove of ver
dant mimosas. I could not resist the desire to make
a last attempt, and sent Mohammed on an embassy
to the owner of this oasis. But he was in the city ;
and, during his absence, his servants dared not admit
4*

42 DAMANHOUR.
strangers. After a half hour had elapsed, a richly
dressed cavalier approached us from the city. He
was mounted on a magnificent white horse, and was
followed by a numerous retinue. Presuming, from
some undefinable prompting of the imagination, that
this was our man, I ranged our caravan along the
road he had to pass, and recommended each man to
assume as pitiable an air as possible. When he
reached our locality, we volunteered a most obse
quious salute. He returned our civility ; and, per
ceiving by our dress that we were Frank travellers,
inquired what detained us from the city at that late
hour. We related our mishaps in the most moving
terms, though, doubtless, the relation lost some of its
force while passing through the interpreter's brains.
Nevertheless, it produced its effect ; for he invited us
to follow him, and pass the night in the white house
standing in the grove of green mimosas.
We were shown into a large chamber, around
which ran a divan covered with mats. We laid our
carpets on these, but still our mattrass was none of
the softest. As we made these nocturnal arrange
ments, three domestics entered, each bearing a porce
lain dish with a handsome silver cover. One contain
ed a sort of mutton ragoiit ; another, rice ; and the
third, vegetables. They placed them on the floor.
Mayer and J squatted opposite each other. A slave
then brought us a basin to wash our hands, and we
commenced our apprenticeship at oriental epicurism,
by helping ourselves with our fingers. This manner
of proceeding was so repugnant to our notions, that
it really took somewhat from the charm of the repast,
notwithstanding the voracity of our appetites. Our
drink was simply cistern water, in a decanter with a

DAMANHOUR. 43
silver stopper. When our supper was ended, the
same slave brought again water to wash our hands
and faces, served us with coffee and pipes, and left
us to finish the night as we pleased.
We gra's'ely looked at each other for a time through
the smoke of our pipes, thanked our host in our hearts
for his hospitality, commended him to the care ofhis
Prophet, and went to sleep.
I awoke next morning with the dawn. I rapidly
made the tour of the city, discovered the best view,
drew a general outline of the place, sketched two or
three mosques, and returned out of breath to give
orders for our departure. I was desirous to take
leave of our entertainer, and thank him for his civili
ty ; but the wise Mussulman's hour for rising had not
come, and it was impossible to see him. I asked
his name, however, that I might transmit it towards
posterity : it was Rustum Effendi. We gave the
batchis to his slaves, mounted our beasts, and, at five
hundred paces distance from Damanhour, were in
the midst of the Desert, — so closely do the extremes
of civilization and desolation approximate in this
eastern world.
We trudged along for several hours through the
sand ; and then, ascending a hill, we unexpectedly
saw from its summit the Nile !
Delightful landscapes now succeeded arid plains.
In place of a palm-tree here and there lost in the
burning horizon, we found forests of fruit-trees and
fields of maize. Egypt is a valley, with a river in its
centre and an immense garden on each side, shut in
by the Desert. Birds of ruby and emerald, of brilliant
song and plumage, unknown to us, fill the groves of
mimosa and lilachs. Large droves of sheep and buf-

44 rosetta.
falo, led by lean, naked herdsmen, followed the
course of the Nile which we were ascending. And,
finally, by way of climax, two enormous wolves, at
tracted no doubt by the scent of the cattle, emerged
from a wood fifty yards in front, and came to a halt
as if to arrest our progress : our guides, however,
succeeded in beating them off with stones.
Night descended rapidly, and our way, intersected
by ditches necessary to the irrigation of the country,
became more and more toilsome. In many places
our asses sunk to their knees in the swamps, and we
were obliged to dismount ; and occasionally we ford
ed actual torrents, wading to our arm-pits : this sort
of bath, though much cooler, was also much less
agreeable than that of Alexandria. At length the
moon arose in full brilliancy, illumined our path, and
gave a new character to this strange landscape. Des
pite our embarrassments, we could not be insensible
to its beauties. On the summit of the hills which
divide the valley from the Desert, the palm-trees
gracefully waved their branches against the sky.
Mosques were visible in every direction, their bases
laved by the Nile, their walls surrounded by the
shade and verdure of the sycamore. But we were
constantly interrupted in our ecstacy, by a bog or a
ditch ; so that, by the time Rosetta was in sight, we
were drenched altogether, and our shoes, like Pa-
nurge's, took in water from our shirt-collars.
As we approached the city, however, these vexa
tions lost much of their force ; for we saw, in antici
pation, a comfortable room where we should ex
change our dripping clothes for the dry ones of some
good Mussulman ; we having left our trunks at Alex
andria, and in them all our wardrobes, save what we

rosetta. 45
stood in. Our stomachs, too, gave warning of neces
sities which it is always so comforting to satisfy ; and,
recollecting the repast of the preceding evening, we
determined on just such another, even should we be
compelled to eat it with our fingers. And, as for our
beds, our extreme fatigue would render the first di
van we came to most welcome. In this happy tem
perament, this extreme predisposition to be pleased
with our prospective host and entertainment, we ar
rived at the gates of Rosetta. Gentle reader, the
gates of Rosetta, the gates of Rosetta, the gates of
Rosetta  were closed for the night 1
This was a thunder-stroke. Of all possibilities, the
gates' being closed had not entered into our imagin
ings. We thumped upon the barrier like madmen,
of course ; but the guards were deaf. We essayed
that prime mover of all things, the batchis ; but the
fates were against us, i. e. the crevices in the gates
were not large enough to admit a five-franc piece.
Mohammed coaxed, supplicated, and threatened in
vain ; and, having done so, he turned to us with the
composure of conviction, to say that the matter was
hopeless. We saw the truth of his remark in the
Mussulman resignation with which he and the men
looked about for a favourable spot to encamp : still,
we were, at the moment, too much enraged to quit
the gate. At length Mohammed announced to us
that he had discovered a very eligible bivouac, to
which we hesitatingly and most reluctantly followed
him, taking care to curse the gate-keepers most lusti
ly as we parted from them. He conducted us to the
side of a mosque, surrounded by lilacks in flower,
where he had spread our carpets under two magnifi
cent palm-trees. Here, as we needs must, we lay

46 rosetta.
down with our stomachs empty and our clothes wet ;
yet, such was our exhaustion, we shortly fell into a
stupor, which, to any one seeing us so motionless,
might have appeared like sleep. When we opened
our eyes the next morning, we were perfectly stiff.
We tried to rise, but not a muscle would move. We
were fast in our clothes, like a sword rusted in its
scabbard. At length, Mohammed and the drivers,
who were more accustomed to such exposure, came
to our assistance. They raised our jointless bodies
as Harlequin does the clown, and set us against the
trunks of the palm-trees, with our faces towards the
rising sun. We soon felt the advantage of this posi
tion ; life returned with the warmth, and by degrees
we began to thaw : so that by eight o'clock our hmbs
and clothes were in a condition to move into the city.
The houses in Rosetta are of brick, some of them
four or five stories high : the piazzas of the lower
stories being supported by columns of pink granite, of
unequal dimensions, brought from the ruins of an
cient Alexandria. The Nile, which here forms a
commodious port, flows also through large and beau
tiful rice-fields ; and the delicate green of that plant
contrasts finely with the sombre masses of dark syc
amores and towering palms.
The French consular agent, M. Camps, received
us with great cordialit}', and presented us to his wife
and daughter. We here met M. Amon, a fellow-
countryman ; he is a veterinary surgeon, a pupil of
d'Alfort, and had been for five or six years in the
service of the Pacha of Egypt. He married a Coph-
tish girl in Rosetta. As the Cophts are Christians,
there was nothing repugnant to his conscience in this
union, but there was a queerness (to our European
notions) in the manner of its accomplishment.

rosetta. 47
When M. Amon came to the grave determination
of eschewing bachelorship, he employed, as is cus
tomary, a female marriage-broker to find out a suita
ble person. In a few days she reported the discove
ry of a handsome Cophtish girl, fourteen years of
age. M. Amon asked to see her. As a compliance
with this request would have been contrary to all
usage, he was told that it would be impossible ;
but, nevertheless, he might ask any questions he
thought proper, and depend on honest and faithful
answers. These answers proving satisfactory, a suit
able portion was the next day offered to the parents,
and accepted. The time was then fixed for the cer
emony, and at the hour appointed, M. Amon on one
side, and the lady and her friends on the other, ap
peared at the Cadi's. The money was counted out,
the bride was passed to M. Amon as the receipt,
and the husband marched off with his prize. He did
not see her face until he reached his house. The
parties, however, had dealt fairly with him ; and he
felicitates himself, to this day, on his blind-man! s-buff
sort of marriage.
But fair dealing does not always occur in these mat
ters ; and great disappointment often takes place. In
such a case, the deceived husband sends his wife
back to her parents, giving a second portion, equiva
lent to the first. The husband always reserves this
right to restore the wife when a moral deception
has been practised on him, and when, at the end of a
certain time, the pair perceive that their characters
cannot assimilate. They then become free of each
other ; and after this divorce, which is valid by mu
tual consent, they are at liberty to marry elsewhere
a second, third, or fourth time.

48 ROSETTA.
M. Amon gave us these details while taking us to
see the mosque of Abou-Mandour, which is out of
the city and on the bank of the Nile. This oriental
edifice stands in the midst ofa charming landscape,
and reaches far into the river, leaving a narrow pas
sage between its base and the opposite shore. A
dome in the form ofa heart reversed, surmounted by
a crescent, crowns its white and festooned walls-:
from one of the angles, a madeneh of rare elegance
elevates its galleries, while the opposite side seems
to uphold an enormous mass of sand, resting like a
hill on the declivity of the mountain. Tall palm-
trees, also, shoot up their single stems through the
thick and sombre foliage of the sycamores, crowning
them as with an aigrette. The true believers say
that the holy dervise, Abou-Mandour, sustains on his
shoulders the mountains of sand which seem ready to
swallow up the mosque, and choke the current of the
Nile. M. Camps and M. Amon both invited us to take up
our abode with them ; but we declined their hospi
tality, fearing to incommode them, and established
ourselves in an old capuchin monastery. It was a
large and dilapidated edifice, where all that remained
of the order was one m.onk — a living ruin amid
dead ruins. The poor old man, like the followers of
Ulysses, had eaten the fruit of the lotos, which occa
sions the loss of memory: for twenty years, no echo
of the world by whom he was forgotten had reached
his ears, and he reciprocated its indifference. His
regular habits, long beard, and ample vesture cut af
ter the eastern fashion, made him respected by the
Arabs. We passed the evening at the house of one of M.

ROSETTA. 49
Amon's friends, — a worthy Turk who abrogated the
strongest precept of the Koran to indulge his love of
wine. The apartment in which he received us was
simple, as are most oriental ones. A large divan, as
usual, circumscribed the room ; in the centre a jet
d'eau fell from a beautiful fountain of white marble
into an octagonal basin ; a collection of rare and
brilliant flowers, covered with liquid pearls as if the
dew had weighed them down, was disposed around
this basin with great taste, giving a cheerful aspect
to the immense saloon. The Turk received us in the
midst of his friends, made us take places in the cir
cle, and presented pipes and coffee. A half-hour af
ter, lemonade was handed round. Our conversation,
the while, was very languid, being carried on through
interpreters. No interchange of thoughts can bear
this ordccd : we soon tired of the intellectual effort,
rose and departed. To be candid, the Turk made no
attempt to detain us.
The next day, M. Taylor, Captain Bellanger, and
INI. Eydoux the surgeon-major, arrived from Alexan
dria. The last named came less from curiosity than
a motive of philanthropy most honourable to him.
He was aware of the danger of opthalamia in this
clime, and he exposed his eyes to save ours.
We had nothing to detain us at Abour-Mandour,
and were impatient to reach Cairo. The day fol
lowing, therefore, (May 6th,) we chartered a djerme
of the largest class. She was about forty feet long,
and carried two latteen sails of frightful dimensions.
At the hour appointed for sailing, the wind hauled to
an adverse quarter, and to while away the time, we
went to the bath.
As at Alexandria, the baths are the largest and
5

50 ROSETTA.
finest buildings in the city : and here, as there, 1 1
passed from condensed vapour to boiling water. But
because my lungs had become hardened by breathing
hot sand, or because my skin was toughened by the
blaze of an Egyptian sun, I felt not the least incon
venience this time : even the joint-cracking was rath
er agreeable, and I took postures under the direction
of my bather which would have done honour to Ma-
zurier or Auriol.
In the morning we were awakened with the plea
sing intelligence that the wind was favourable. We
set forth with good will and in high spirits. The day
was magnificent ; the wind blew as if under our own
orders ; and the sailors sung lustily to keep up their
courage, and act in concert while working ship. We
had two of their songs translated. One was in verse,
to the praise of God ; the other a medley of sentences
and misanthropic reflections tacked together, the most
prominent of which seemed to be : " Tho earth is
vanity, and all in it is misery."
As we were in great glee, these truths were more
grave than agreeable, and we requested a change of
tune from the Arabs. They brought immediately a
sort of flute resembling an ancient pipe, and a drum
equally antique in appearance, and commenced a clat
ter the savage wildness of which so absorbed our at
tention that we did not think to ask for an interpre
tation of the words, but tried our best to detach from
the infernal hubbub some one musical note. But our
curiosity was soon diverted from the song and its ac
companiment by a fat Turk in a green turban,  a
descendant of Mahomet, — who, excited by the mu
sic, slowly arose, balanced himself to the measure,
first on one foot and then on the other, and com-

APPROACH TO CAIRO. 51
menced a dance. When he had finished his per
formance, which certainly had the attraction o{ nov
elty, we thanked him for his pains. He replied, with
much complacency, that the Almeys danced so in
Cairo. The day passed away at last. The shores
of the Nile presented to our view their extraordinary
verdure : the declining sun gilded, with his last rays,
a pretty village overtopped with palm-trees.
We retired to the stern of our vessel, where the
sailors had constructed a tent, or rather an arch of
cloth supported by bamboos. We spread our car
pets beneath, and did not wake till morning. The
day passed as the preceding one had done ; nothing
new in the landscape, nothing interesting on board.
Towards the close of the third day, after we had
encountered divers head winds and shoals, three sym
metrical mounds arose slowly under the glowing
horizon ; they were the Pyramids : and, at the same
time, on our left, commenced the chain of Lybian
mountains which enclose the Nile with their granite
flanks. We were unable to turn away from the gigantic
monuments to which belonged so grand a record of
antiquity, and so glorious a memento of modern days.
There, too, was the battle-field of the modern Cam
byses, where we, like Herodotus viewing the corses
ofthe Persians and Egyptians, might have discovered
the bones of our fathers. As the sun descended, his
beams climbed the sides of the Pyramids, leaving their
base in shade ; soon the summit alone sparkled, like
a reddened point, and then a single ray, like a dis
tant beacon-light, seemed to float on the sharpened
extremity. This soon detached itself and ascended
towards the sky, as if to light up the stars, which, a

52 APPROACH TO CAIRO.
moment after, began to twinkle in the firmament.
We were now wild with enthusiasm, and clapped our
hands with delight at this magnificent spectacle.
On awaking, the next morning, I felt an uneasi
ness like a night-mare ; and I found my companions
similarly affected. The air was heavy and suffoca
ting. The sun had arisen, gloomy and dull, behind
a curtain of burning sand driven by the wind from
the Desert. We experienced the same oppression in
breathing, as one does when descending into a very
dense atmosphere ; besides, the air burnt our lungs.
Not understanding this phenomenon, we looked
around the deck. The captain and crew were seated
and motionless, wrapped in their cloaks; their mouths
were concealed in the folds, and they had the ap
pearance of Flaxman's Dantesque figures. They
seemed utterly lifeless, excepting that their eyes were
fixed, in anxiety and dread expectation, on the hori
zon. They took no notice of our approach ; they re
turned no answer to our questions. We inquired of
the captain the cause of their, consternation : "the
Khamseen .'" he replied, extending his hand toward
the horizon, but without uncovering his mouth.
He had hardly pronounced the word, when we re
cognised by visible signs the approach of this disas
trous wind, so dreaded by the Arabs. The palm-
trees, moved by capricious blasts, waved in different
directions, as if contrary currents of air were crossing
each other in the heavens. The sand, each grain of
which was hot like the spark from a furnace, beat in
our faces. The frightened birds quitted the higher
regions, and cowered close to the earth. Clouds of
hawks, with long narrow wings, wheeled about, utter
ing piercing cries, alighted suddenly on the tops of

APPROACH TO CAIRO. 53
the mimosas, and then darted up again towards the
sky as swiftly and perpendicularly as arrows ; the
very trees shuddered, as if they partook of the gene
ral terror. None of these signs escaped the Arabs ;
but we could not tell, from their immoveable counte
nances, whether they were propitious or otherwise.
The blast gradually decreased, and as it threatened
no more serious consequence than I have described,
we determined to go on shore with our guns. We
beat about in the style of St. Denis sportsmen, and
found the game, such as it was,, abundant. When we
returned, our crew were in jubilation : the khamseen
was quite gone over, and they were jumping for joy
and bathing their faces and hands in the Nile.. The
European style of bathing exactly suited me ; and I
was determined that the ceremony should not finish
before I had taken a part.
In a moment I was in the costume of a Santon ;
and, taking my leap from the vessel, I pounced on
a head like a hussar's, bobbing about in the water.
I went under, however ; and when I rose to the sur
face, all the sailors were intently watching my move
ments. I knew there were no crocodiles in this part
of the river, — being above the first cataract ; there
fore, conceiving myself in no danger, I could inter
pret the interest with which the men watched me,, in
no other manner than one altogether flattering to my
self-love. I redoubled my efforts and address in
swimming; all that the repertory of natation con
tains, from the simple brasse to the double culbute,
was executed with increasing success under .the eyes
of my swarthy spectators. I was at the planche
raide, when I suddenly received, in my right leg, an
5*

54 APPROACH TO CAIRO.
electric discharge so violent that my whole side was
paralyzed. I turned immediately to swim towards
the boat, but I felt in an instant that I could not reach
it without assistance. Half laughing, half choking,
I called out for a pole, sustaining myself with my
left arm and leg, for my right was perfectly numb
and motionless. Luckily, Mohammed, as if he had
foreseen the accident, had already thrown me a
rope. I caught the end of it, and he drew me dn
board. I mounted the side of the vessel in a much
less triumphant style than I left it. Nevertheless,
from the almost jeering heedlessness with whfch the
Arabs regarded me, I was convinced that the acci
dent was not an alarming one. Still, I desired to
know the cause of it, were it only to guard against
a similar one in future. Mohammed informed me
that, amid a multitude of fishes agreeable to the taste
and curious to the eye, there was a sort of torpedo
in the Nile, possessed of remarkable electric power,
of which the Arabs were so much afraid that they
always limited their bathing to an ablution of face
and hands. One thing was clear to my mind, how
ever : if they feared this electric shock in their own
beautiful persons, they had no compunctions about
witnessing its effect on me. In conclusion of this
matter, I remark that the pain soon left me, and
I have since experienced no inconvenience from the
shock. The wind now failed entirely. We dined on our
game, and, that accomplished, prepared for rest. By
the advice of our Arabs, (who were not inconside
rate of real danger to their passengers,) we carefully
examined our carpets to see if any scorpions were

APPROACH TO CAIRO. 55
hid in them ; for if they had played on us the trick
of the torpedo, it would have been infinitely less of
a joke. We then laid ourselves down to sleep, in
the pleasing hope of seeing Cairo in the morning, as
we were distant from it but seven or eight leagues.

CHAPTER in.

CAIRO.

We weighed anchor at day-break on the following
morning, and rapidly approached the Pyramids —
which, on their part, seemed to advance upon us,
and bend over our heads. At the foot ofthe Lybian
range we began to perceive, through the sandy va
pours that darkened the air, the towers and domes
of mosques surmounted with their crescents of bronze.
By degrees this curtain, driven by the northern wind
which wafted us along, was uplifted from Cairo, and
we discovered the jagged outline of the tops of the
buildings, their foundations being yet hidden by the
swollen banks of the river. We made great head
way, and were soon off the Pyramids of Gizeh. Far
ther up, and on the same side of the river, a palm-
grove waved over the spot where Memphis once
stood, and where the daughter of Pharaoh walked
when she rescued Moses from the ark of bulrushes.
Above the palm-trees, and in a mist, not of fog, but
sand, arose the reddened summits of the Pyramids of
Sakkara, the venerable ancestors of those of Gizeh.
Shortly after, we passed several boats laden with
slaves, among whom were females. As soon as our
Captain saw them, he struck a knife into the main
mast, and threw some salt into the fire : this double

CAIRO. 57
operation was to avert the effect of the evil eye.
The precaution was suJEBcient — for, an hour after
ward, we landed at Shoubra, on the eastern bank of
the Nile. The residence of the Pacha, hard-by, was
pointed out to us ; it is charmingly situated in the
midst of verdure and coolness.
We found, here, an abundance of asses and dri
vers ; the first larger and finer, the latter more eager
and contumacious (if possible) than their brethren of
Alexandria. Profiting by experience, we were care
ful not to make objections or be particular: we al
lowed ourselves to be taken by the first we met, and
striking off into a delicious avenue of sycamores
where we were perfectly protected from the sun,
proceeded at a rapid rate on our journey.
The road being thirty feet higher than the river,
we had, now, a more extended horizon. In front
lay the island of Roudah, the base of the monument
where the Nilometer is preserved ; an instrument
which measures the height of the inundations of the
Nile. The lines traced on it indicate the years when
the overflow of the water, reaching an unusual ele
vation, causes seasons of remarkable fertility. Here,
every year, the sheiks of the mosques declare the
height of the inundation, and apportion the measure
of rejoicing which the people may indulge in ; or,
with the resignation of Mussulmans, announce sterili
ty and the fasting and famine to which the insuffi
cient rising of the river condemns them. On our
right stood the Pyramids of Gizeh, visible from the
base to the summit ; and there, too, was the hill
formed by the Great Sphinx, which has guarded
them for three thousand years, turning its granite
face, mutilated by the soldiers of Cambyses, towards

58

CAIRO.

the tomb of the Pharaohs. On our left, was the bat
tle-field of Heliopolis, rendered famous by Kleber ;
its immense solitude extends farther than the eye
can reach, and is enlivened by one sycamore which
flourishes in the burning sand of the Desert. Our
guides called our attention to it ; for an Arab tradi
tion says, that under this tree Mary reposed when
flying from Herod into Egypt. It appears from this
that the Mahommedans themselves believe that this
sacred tree owes its miraculous Icmgevity and per
petual verdure to the hallowed influence communi
cated to it while sheltering the mother of Christ.
Boulac, which we now passed through, is a sort of
suburb of Cairo, standing like a sentinel to guard the
city. But half a league of our journey remained
We cast a look at the bay, enlivened by a multitude
of vessels. Those ascending the Nile were loaded
with garden-produce ; those returning brought the
fruits of Upper Egypt which the pale sun of the Del
ta cannot ripen. The active and numerous popula
tion of this vicinity denoted the approach to a large
city. I pointed, to Mohammed, in the direction of
the walls ; " el Masr !" replied he ; and, putting his
beast on a gallop, invited us to follow. We did not
need urging, nor our beasts either, for that matter,
as their noses were pointed homeward.
We soon came in sight of Cairo, standing perfectly
isolated in the midst of an ocean of sand, the burn
ing waves of which beat without cessation against
her granite walls. They would eventually effect a
breach or escalade, did not the Nile, twice a year,
sweep them away in its overflow. As we came
nearer, we could distinguish the various hues of the
buildings, and the elegant forms of the cupolas ; and

CAIRO. 59
above the coloured turrets, which crown the ram
parts like the squares of an immense chess-board,
shot up the madenehs of three hundred mosques. At
length we reached the Gate of Victory — the hand-
sbmest of the seventy gates that enclose Cairo, and
through which Napoleon marched on the 29th of July
1798, the day preceding the Battle ofthe Pyramids.
On entering the city, M. Taylor, who knew the
inconveniences of traversing the streets, — we being,
here, like countrymen in Paris, — set off on a gallop ;
and we were forced to follow, for fear of losing our
way. The truth is, our European dress was drawing
upon us a very unpropitious observation ; the uniform
of the officers of marines especially excited the at
tention and prejudice of the followers of the Prophet.
We redoubled our speed, elbowing the Turks and
Arabs who were passing in their brilliant costumes
before our dazzled eyes, and who cried out to us,
" yamin" or " chemal," i. e. to the right, or left, just
as the movement seemed necessary on our part to
escape interference with the straight and undeviating
line they gravely follow, whether riding or on foot.
At last, after such a race as one sometimes takes in a
dream, we arrived at the Frank-quarter, and alighted
at an Italian inn.
Our first care was to procure a tailor. He came,
a Turk of pure blood. We made our selections from
his stuffs ; and he took from his pocket a tape with
a weight at the end, suspended it from the neck to
the instep, noted the length, then drawing the same
line across our shoulders, the measure was taken.
Our next care was to procure a breakfast, for
which our stomachs were now urgent. We there
fore took possession of our rooms — where the want

60 CAIRO.
of suitable dress would confine us until evening —
and called our host, delighted to find some one in
this strange land to whom we could speak without
an interpreter. In half an hour a cover, in European
style, was laid in our chamber ; and it was with no
small satisfaction that I seated myself once more in
a christian manner at the table. Mohanmied, whom
we could not neglect at this interesting juncture, was
standing by a window : we called him, and he seated
himself, after his own fancy, on the floor, by the side
of our table.
If we had played for his amusement, on the com
mencement ofour journey, by eating with our fingers,
we now had him at similar advantage. The poor
fellow was astounded at the juggler-like adroitness
with which we handled instruments quite unknown
to him. He attempted, however, without hesitation,
to imitate us ; but, after pricking his tongue and cut
ting his fingers three or four times, he cast aside
knife, fork, spoon, and returned to the natural sys
tem. The comparative sumptuousness ofour repast
also astonished him, for he. had been educated with
Arabian notions of frugality ; but here he was rather
more conformable to our views — he tried everv dish,
and liked them all.
In the evening, we determined to risk our Euro
pean dress in the dark, and go to the French Con
sul's. The Vice-Consul, delighted to see some of his
countr\"men, insisted on giving us a little fete. He
sent for half-a-dozen musicians, who squatted around
the divan on which we were seated, tuned their
instruments with imperturbable gravitv, and play
ed some national airs, singing at intervals. No
one but he who has heard Turkish or Arabian music

CAIRO. 61
can form an idea of the climax of discord and confu
sion. I verily believe that, but for the precaution the
musicians took in blockading us, my recollections of
the ItaUan opera, overcoming my natural politeness,
would have forced me to take French leave at the
fourth strain. After two mortal hours, the execu-
tioiiists arose, as solemnly and stately as if they had
not abominably persecuted us, and departed. Our
host informed us that, to pay us due respect, they
had played their gravest airs, but would certainly,
at another time, entertain us with something more
sprightly !
We returned to our hotel guided by a kaffa, who
walked in front of us with a lantern of waxed paper
elevated on a spiral wire. The streets were entire
ly deserted ; we did not meet a living soul. We
slept that night on beds ; the first time since we left
Alexandria. Notwithstanding the superiority of couches over
divans, and mattrasses over carpets, my nerves had
been" so entirely unstrung by the infernal music at
the Consul's, that I could not sleep. And soon a for
eign and physical cause was added to my nervous
irritability, to keep me awake. I heard and felt some
sort of animal, which in the dark I could not see,
running and jumping over my bed. For a time I
attempted to catch some of them with my hand,
grasping quickly at a particular spot as I felt their
pressure on the clothes ; but they always eluded me
with a quickness and sagacity which showed no
small experience in this exercise. During a momen
tary truce, while I stood on the watch, I heard May
er, on the other side of the room, playing the same
game. All doubt now disappeared ; it was a regu-
6

62 CAIRO.
Iar and combined attack ! We compared notes ; and
finding our situations to be not only exactly similar,
but extremely critical, we simultaneously mounted
to the heads of our beds, so as not to be surprised
from behind, and desperately assailed the enemy.
But action and words were vain; like the Mame
luke, " Glui charge, combat, fuit, et revient fuir encore,"
we found our foes unseizable. I therefore determined
on a sortie, flew into the antechamber and lighted
my candle by a lamp burning there. I returned, as
I went, in haste ; and now, if we could not touch
our assailant.s, we could, at least, see them ; they
were enormous rats, old and fat as patriarchs ! At
sight of the candle, they effected their retreat under
the door with cries of fear, and in the greatest disor
der. Said door did not reach the floor by the space
of four good inches. We exercised our wits to con
trive a stopper to this passage ; and after unsuccess
fully essaying several expedients and experiments, I
saw that the hour for a great voluntary sacrifice had
come, and, Curtius-like, I devoted my coat. I rolled
it up tight and hard, and wedged it under the door.
Scarcely was the light extinguished, scarcely had we
returned to our beds, when the attack was re-com
menced at the out-post : but the gate was closed,
and we closed our eyes, with the complacent assur
ance that the rats had met their match.
Mayer rose the next morning in ecstacy at our
success ; but my triumph was qualified. At night I
had placed in the breach an excellent coat ; in the
morning I drew it forth — a roundabout, irregularly
scolloped ; the skirts had disappeared : tliev were
the svolia opima.

ESSAY ON ARCHITECTURE. 63
This defect in my toilet, joined to the previous
impossibility of leaving the Frank-quarter without a
Turkish dress, kept me at home the ensuing day. I
profited by the quarantine to throw together on pa
per, some reflections on architecture, the result of
former observations and studies with Baron Taylor
in the North, and of present ones now commenced
with him in the East.
The Arabian architecture presents, at the first
glance, a character of strange individuality, which
makes it appear, like some indigenous plants, to
belong essentially to that country, and to bear no
analogy, beyond a certain oriental characteristic, to
any other. Notwithstanding the mystery with which
this wayward daughter screens herself behind her
golden cupola, encircles her head with verses in an
unknown tongue, like the hieroglyphic fillets on the
forehead of an Egyptian mnmmy, and envelopes her
form in her mantle of a thousand-coloured marble —
let the eye of the antiquary, familiarized with the
dazzling richness of her trappings, look from partic
ular details to the general plan; let the first layer be
removed, the skin, as it were, laid back ; and he re
cognises at once by the muscles and organs, the an
cient stock, the common origin, the fraternal source
whence the North and the East, — Christianity and
Mahomedanism, — sought what was wanting individ
ually to each, viz. the hand that traced the plan of
the mosques of Cairo and the cathedrals of Venice.
For here, in few words, is the history of architec
ture. Born with the primeval civilization of India,
she scooped out caverns before she raised palaces;
she built monolithic temples before she constructed
airy cathedrals ; at length, and by degrees, what ori-

64 ESSAY ON ARCHITECTURE.
ginally lay below, was elevated to the surface, and
the art of great nations and great epochs saw the
light. Did Indian architecture cross the Red Sea to
dwell in Ethiopia ? We do not know. Was Egyp
tian architecture her sister, or her daughter ? We
cannot tell. We know, only, that she set forth from
Meroe, the grave and mighty ancestress, built Philse,
Elephantina, Thebes, and Tentyra ; and then linger
ed on her way to watch the ramparts of Memphis
growing under the hand of strangers, who were mo
ving up the Nile that she was descending. This was
the second epoch ; the epoch of progression, which
preceded the epoch of art ; the epoch in which were
raised, by a power unknown to us, gigantic masses
to the top of lofty monolithic shafts ; the epoch
when the architrave of a single block, fitting upon
the centre of the capital, formed the square roof,
flat and massive ; the epoch, in short, when all edifi
ces whatever, had the appearance of being built for
giants ; vastness was the predominant idea of the
time : and it was written from Babylon to Palanque,
from Elephantina to the walls of Sparta, not in stones
but rocks.
Greece succeeded Egypt ; the graceful and coquet
tish daughter of the reserved and veiled mother:
ideality gave place to art ; grandeur to beauty. Words
hitherto unknown, began to be spoken — purity, pro
portion, elegance. Athens, Corinth, Alexandria, scat
tered abroad a company of laughing nymj^iisbeaf ing
four orders of columns : structure remained stationa
ry, but ornament rose to her apogee. '
Afterwards came Rome the industrious, with her
world of labourers and soldiers ; to her, on account

ESSAY ON ARCHITECTURE. 65
of the lavishness of her predecessors, granite, por
phyry, and marble were always rare ; she possessed
the travertine alone. Paltry materials succeeded
rich ones, but science came to the aid of poverty :
the arch now arose, and from this day it formed a
prominent feature in the Roman art. It was apphed
to all structures ; temples, aqueducts, triumphal ar
ches : the extremities, only, of the empire caught and
adopted, in some degree, the style of adjoining coun
tries. At Petra, as in India, they scooped out mo
nolithic temples : at Persepolis they substituted Da-
rius's elephant heads and Xerxes' horses, for Toscan
and Corinthian capitals.
Suddenly this immense Babel was arrested. The
East pushed the North upon the West, and both rol
led across the old world, enfolding her like serpents,
inundating her like an ocean, devouring her as with
a conflagration. Rome, the empress of the world,
launched hastily forth on the troubled waters in her
holy ark and landed, with the subsiding flood, at By
zantium, sheltering the germ of each art as Noah,
upon Ararat, preserved the germ of each race.
And not only had one world given place to an
other, but, in the midst of this cataclysm, a voice
from Heaven was heard ; a new idea was promul
gated ; an unknown symbol shone. Monuments were
needed to embody this thought : a base rose for the
symbol ; the barbarians turned their eyes to Byzan
tium, to the cupola of Saint Sophia, and beheld the
cross : the symbol and the monument were united ;
and the Christian idea was realized.
But if faith was everywhere, at Byzantium were
art and light. There the Christian sought his artists,
the Arab his architects : for the Arab, ignorant and
6*

66 ESSAY ON ARCHITECTURE.
savage, is as enthusiastic as the Christian. Byzanti
um, then, was the common source : her sons, degen
erate descendants of their sires, (destined, however,
to the rebuilding of the world,) came to the task with
their past remembrances and present unskilfulness.
They essayed, they bungledv they copied. In this
second period, the church of Christ and the mosque
of Mahomet were sisters ; and it was not until the
necessities of the Bible and the Koran had spoken
loud enough for marble and granite to obey, that
these two daughters of the same mother separated to
meet no more.
Each endeavoured to collect and unite around her
visible symbol all that was requisite to complete it.
The church, at first, took the form of the Grecian
cross, but soon abandoned that for the Latin, which
is the cross of Christ. She raised the bel ry, near
her portico, and surmounted it with the spire to point,
with its finger of stone, toward Heaven, for the en
couragement of those whom the bells assembled to
gether. She built twelve chapels to the memory of
the twelve apostles ; placed her choir on the right,
because our Saviour, in dying, bowed his head on
his right shoulder ; and made three windows in the
choir, because God is Three, and all light emanates
from Him. Then came the stained window-glass, of
a thousand shades, softening the light of day, and
giving to every hour a twilight hue, suitable to med
itation and prayer. And, finally, the organ, that
great voice of the church, speaking all languages,
from vengeance to mercy, crowned the Christian's
effort ; his idea, in its greatest perfection, was real
ized and chronicled in the gothic cathedral of the
15th century.

ESSAY ON ARCHITECTURE. 67
With the Mussulman, on the contrary, in whose
conception everything was addressed to the sense
and not the soul ; whose recompense, after the plea
sures of this world, was a voluptuous paradise ; —
the religious monument assumed a different charac
ter. His first care was to open the roof to the per
petual smile of the sky. Under the pretext of ab
lution, he caused fountains of liquid silver to gush
forth, the very murmur of which, in this torrid
zone, was a foretaste of Heaven. He encircled
these with tufted and odoriferous trees, and called
together nightingales and poets to sing under their
shade. A small, square spot only was reserved where
the body of the pious Mussulman might repose, shel
tered by a dome enriched with ingenious arabes
ques. Near this arose the many-storied madeneh,
whence, thrice a-day, the muezzin called the faith
ful to prayer. But the Mohammedan art, although
emanating from Byzantium, did not pass with impu
nity by Persepolis and Delta. The arches enlarged
in the centre, united at the ends with a Persian grace ;
and India supplied light and delicate combinations
with which she covered her walls as with a lace-
work of stone. Then, in turn, was the Mohamme
dan idea perfected and developed in the mosque, as
the Christian had been in the church.
The architects of these two ideas had this in com
mon : they destroyed to reconstruct ; they built
the new with the wrecks of the ancient world :
they found its skeleton extended on the sand,
and they stole its firmest hones and finest propor
tions. The Christian purloined from the Pantheon,
Coliseum, Temple of Jupiter Stator, Golden House
of Nero, Caracalla's Bath, and the Amphitheatres of

68 CAIRO.
Titus : the Arab, from the Pyramids, Thebes, Mem
phis, Solomon's Temple, the Obelisks of Karnac, and
the Columns of Serapis. This was in obedience fo
that immutable Will, which permits nothing to be
created anew, but links all things together ; and gives
to man, by this theory of infinite connexion, a symbol
of eternity.
Achmed-Ebn-Tayloun, whose father was chief of
the guard of the Caliphs of Bagdad, founded old
Cairo. This wandering conqueror called it Fostat,
or the tent, and erected there the mosque of Tay-
loun. The Fatamite Djouhaar made himself mas
ter of this encampment of stone in the year A. D.
969, and traced the site of the new city, to which he
gave the name of Maur-el-Kakira, the victorious.
At the commencement of the 12th century, Salah-
Eddin, lieutenant of Nour-Eddin, subdued Egypt, and
included "the victorious" in his conquest. Under
his captain, Karacoush, the citadel and walls were
built. Some years after, Beybar, the chief of the
Mamelukes, poignarded the Visier and reigned in his
place, and he and his descendants possessed Cairo in
tranquillity until 1517, when Selim converted Egypt
into a Turkish province. It was during these differ
ent reigns, while the city of Achmed-Ebn-Tayloun
was falling into ruins, that that of Djouhaar was suc
cessively rearing her splendid edifices.
Cairo, which covers a large extent of ground, and
has a population exceeding three hundred thousand
souls, is divided into quarters, like the European cities
of the middle ages : there are Arab, Greek, Jew, and
Christian quarters ; each is enclosed by gates, around
which guards are stationed during the night. We
were, as I before remarked, in the Christian, com-

CAIRO. 69
monly called the Frank quarter, which it is danger
ous to leave in European costume. To this danger
tlie reader owes this long antiquarian and chronolo
gical dissertation, for which I humbly ask his pardon ;
although I deem one such discussion necessary in a
work of this kind.
On the day following, at the hour appointed, our
clothes-merchant arrived. His punctuality and some
other things about him force me to acknowledge the
superiority of the Turkish over the French tailor.
He was accompanied by a barber, and some of our
fellow-countrymen who had a curiosity to witness
our metamorphosis. This barber was a sort of pro
logue to the tailor ; we had to pass through his handsi
or rather his knees, before Snip could perform. M.
Taylor having gone to the Consul on business con
nected with his mission, the ceremony commenced
with me.
The barber placed himself on a chair, and me on
the floor. He drew from his girdle a small steel in
strument, which, from his strapping it on his hand, I
took to be a razor. The thought that this scythe
was to make acquaintance with my head, made my
hair stand on end ; but in an instant my forehead was
enclosed between the knees of my adversary as in a
vice, and I concluded, since I could not help myself, to
keep perfectly quiet. To do the fellow justice, this
despised piece of steel glided around my head with a
gentleness, skill, and softness that went to my very
heart. At the end of five minutes the vice was un
locked, I raised my head, and every-body began to
laugh. I looked in the glass, — I was completely
bald ; nothing of hair remained on my cranium but
that blueish shade which decorates the chin after a

70 CAIRO.
close shave. I was stupified at the change, and at
the magic-like rapidity with which it was wrought :
and never having before seen my head in such a
plight, I did not at all recognise my own face. I
felt over the bump of theosophy for the lock of hair-
by which the angel Gabriel carries Mussulmans to
paradise : I thought I had a right to claim that ; but
it was gone. As soon as I spoke of it, the barber as
sured me that this ornament was worn only by a dis
senting sect not in the least respected by the regu
lars, on account of their dissolute lives. This ar
ranged, I passed without further parley or regret in
to the hands of the tailor, who began at the right end
of his task. He placed on my bald head a white
cap ; over this a red tarbouch ; and rolled a shawl over
the latter, which, of itself, almost transformed me in
to a true, believer. He then donned my gown and
abbaye ; my waist, like my head, he bound with a
shawl ; and in this shawl, to which I fiercely sus
pended a sabre, I thrust a poignard, crayons, paper,
and bread. In this accoutrement, which fitted to a
fraction, my tailor assured me I could go where I
chose, without molestation. I looked in the glass
again, and believed him ; and, hke an actor ready to
spring on the stage when his cue comes, I waited
with bursting impatience until the travestie of my
companions should be effected. They all, of course,
submitted to the same operation as I had undergone ;
and I may say, without vanity, that mine was not
the queerest looking pate of the company. At length,
all being prepared, we sallied from the threshold, and
made our debut.
I was sufficiently embarrassed, like most debu
tants. My turban weighed down my head ; the folds

CAIRO. 71
of my robe impeded my walking ; and my feet and
slippers, being quite unaccustomed to each other, fre
quently parted company. Mohammed walked by our
side, directing our movements with the word, " gen
tly, gently." After our French petulance was a little
soothed, and we had so graduated our steps as to at
tain some Arabian grace, we went along better. In
deed, this costume is perfectly appropriate to the
climate, and infinitely more convenient than ours.
As for the turban, it forms a sort of fortification
around the head, within which perspiration can go
on ad libitum, not consulting or interfering with the
rest of the body.
We passed a half-hour in Mahometanizing our
selves, and then commenced our investigations. We
first visited the palace of the Pacha, on our road to
which we found many objects of interest to detain
us, much to Mohammed's annoyance, who constantly
urged us along. Cairo is as remarkable in detail as
in general : as striking at the corner of a street, or
by the side of a mosque, as when, in a comprehen
sive view, one sees its three hundred madenehs, its
seventy gates, its girdle of walls, its tombs of the Ca
liphs, its Pyramids, its Desert, and its Nile.
We sped through sumptuous bazaars, and streets
crowded with Arabs and tents, until we arrived at
the gigantic mosque of the Sultan Hassan. We next
took the steep path leading, first, to Joseph's Divan,
near which is a famous well, described to us by M.
Taylor. It is quadrangular in form, and is designed
to supply the citadel with water : its depth is said to
reach the level of the bed of the river. It is dug
through a solid rock, in which also are steps for the
descent : this stair-way is lighted partly by windows
through the sides of the rock, and partly by torches.

72 CAIRO.
The mosque known as Joseph's D van is built with
monolithic columns of very fine marble ; these sup
port, on Corinthian capitals, arches which are narrow
at the base. The sides of the arches are ornamented
with Arabian letters, indicating particular verses of
the Koran. Continuing the ascent up the hill, you
reach the walled platform of the citadel, from which
culminating point the palace of the Pacha rises — a
mass of stone, wooden columns and Italian paintings
ofa miserable taste, — all quite inappropriate to the
nature of the climate.
As before remarked, it was Karacoush, the prime-
minister and general of Salah-Eddin, who built the
citadel, dug the well, and traced the walls ofthe new
city. His memory is of course notorious ; and as he
was very short in person and hump-backed, they give
his name to a species of very indecent punchinello,
which is played openly in the streets of Cairo. The
celebrity of the name has brought something similar
to it in vogue at Paris, under the auspices of Messrs.
de Marlborough and de la Palisse.
We were accompanied in our excursion by M.
Msara, interpreter to the Consul, and formerly drogo-
man in the Mameluke guard, who was residing at
our hotel when we arrived. He was familiar with
the antiquities of the country, and possessed, besides,
a fund of anecdote, which made him a most agreeable
cicerone. The citadel commands the city : in every direction
you embrace a semi-circular view, uninterrupted and
of immense extent. Under our feet, as it were, ky
the tombs of the Caliphs : a dead city, silent and un
inhabited, yet standing like a living city. It is the
Necropolis of giants. Each sepulchre is as large as a

CAIRO. 73
mosque ; each monument has its guardian, as mute
as a sepulchre. We visited it at a later period by
torch-light, evoking its spectres and startling its birds
of prey, which latter all day long cover the spires,
and at night enter the tombs, — to tell the shades of
the Caliphs it is their hour to wander. Behind this
monumental and funereal city rise the mountains of
Mokattan : perpendicular and arid rocks, which re
flect the burning rays of the sun even to Cairo.
Turning to the other side, the city ofthe living is
beneath our feet. There are Arabs walking slowly,
clothed in their magnificent msallah ; there is a con
fused mass, from which come the bustling cries of
merchants and camels ; there are the bazaars ; there
is a myriad of cupolas, appearing, in their close com
bination, like a roof, or like the "thick bosses" of a
Titan's buckler; and there is an array of madenehs,
like a navy of masts or a forest of palm-trees. On
the left stands old Cairo ; on the right, Boulac, the
Desert, Heliopolis. In front, and beyond the city, is
the Nile with its isle of Roudah : on its opposite shore
is the battle-field of Embabeh ; farther on, the De
sert ; on the south-west, Gizeh, the Sphinx, the Pyra
mids, an immense wood of palm-trees where sleeps
the Colossus and where was Memphis ; above their
tops are Pyramids again, and again the Desert : the
Desert on all points of tlie horizon, — an immense
ocean of sand ; with its ebb and flow ; its dromeda
ries traversing it like boats ; its caravans covering it
like navies ; its simoom sweeping it like a tempest.
On the platform where we were now standing, the
Pacha of Egypt, I believe in 1818, assembled togeth
er the whole corps of Mamelukes, as if for a feast ;
and, having suddenly secured all egress, excepting
7

CAIRO.

the sheer and precipitous descent over the sides of
the elevation, he destroyed them with cannon and
musketry. They came, according to custom, in their
richest costume, with their finest arms, and bearing
about them all their wealth. At a signal, given by
the Pacha, death burst upon them from all sides.
Crossing and enfilading batteries poured forth their
flame and iron ; and men and horses v.' ere at once
weltering in blood. The dismayed troop dispersed
itself in the circumscribed arena, the individual horse
men dashing against the walls with infuriated cries
of rage and vengeance. They rushed together ; di
vided in groups ; scattered like leaves before the
wind ; then, uniting again, returned as in a last effort
to crush the breasts of their horses against the muz
zles ofthe blazing artillery: still again they dispers
ed like flocks of frightened birds, again to be over
taken by the iron rain which followed them. Many
precipitated themselves from the summit of the cita
del, and were destroyed in the abyss. Two, how
ever, recovered themselves. At the first shock of the
concussion, both horses and riders were stunned ; they
trembled for an instant like equestrian statues when
shaken by an earthquake, and then darted off with
the rapidity of lightning : they passed the nearest
gate, which fortunately was not closed, and found
themselves out of Cairo. They directed their flight
towards the city of the Caliphs, traversed its silent
streets, and arrived at the foot of the Mokattan moun
tains at the moment that a troop of the Pacha's guard
left Cairo in pursuit. One of the fugitives took the
road to El Arich ; the other dashed up the mountain :
the pursuers divided, one half following each.
It was a fearful thing, that race for life and death I

CAIRO. 75
The steeds of the Desert, let loose on the mountains,
bounded from rock to rock, forded torrents, flew
along the edge of precipices. Three times the horse
of one Mameluke fell breathless ; three times, hear
ing the tramp of the pursuers, he arose and renewed
his flight. He fell, at length, not to rise again ; his
strength expended, his spirit broken. His master ex
hibited a touching instance of reciprocal fidelity. In
stead of gliding down the rocks into ^ome defile, or
gaining a peak inaccessible to cavalry, he seated him
self by the side of his courser, threw the bridle over
his arm, and awaited the arrival of the executioners.
They came up, and he fell beneath a score of sabres,
without a motion of resistance, a word of complaint,
or a prayer for mercy. The other Mameluke, more
fortunate than his companion, traversed El Arich,
gained the Desert, escaped unhurt, and, in time, be
came the governor of Jerusalem, where, at a later
day, I had the pleasure to see him, — the last and
only remnant of that redoubtable corps which, thirty
years before, rivalled in courage, though not in for
tune, the elite of Napoleon's army.
What we remarked especially in our first ramble
through Cairo, was the large number of faces shorn
ofthe appendage of ears and noses. I interrogated
Mohammed as to the cause. He replied that these
invalids were the customers ofthe tribunal of correc
tion. This answer, however, required explanation ;
and M. Msara, always obliging and fluent, gave it,
off-hand. Cairo, a primitive region, is quite in the rear of
European civilization, being unprovided with an ar
my of spies to watch an army of thieves : besides,
here the most minute surveillance, the closest search.

76 CAIRO.
are easily frustrated ; since the suspected has only to
pass the gates of the city, and he is safe in the De
sert. Now justice has a horror, a phobia, alike of wa
ter and sand : all oceans are her aversion ; hence an
expedient must be provided to save pursuit, and also,
especially, incarceration. The Cadis, who were near
ly concerned in this matter, laid their heads together,
and hit on a very ingenious expedient of distinguish
ing thieves from honest men : their plan, it will be
seen, was based on the principle that prevention is
equivalent to cure.
When therefore a theft is committed, and (which
sometimes happens) the thief caught, the Cadi sum
mons the accused, or suspected, and interrogates him :
if satisfied of his guilt, which is soon done, he takes
the culprit's ear in one hand and a razor in the other,
and passes the instrument adroitly between his hand
and the thief's head : the pretty general result of which
manceuvre is, that the piece remains in the Cadi's
fingers, and the thief walks oflf minus an ear.
It is obvious that this proceeding simplifies the duty
of the police. If a thief, once punished, commits a
second theft, his previous guilt is demonstrated at a
glance, and a very brief trial is sufficient to condemn
his remaining ear : it is lopped in virtue of the legal
axiom non bis in idem. If the fellow prove incorri
gible, and transgress a third time, his nose very sum
marily follows his ears, — reversing nature's original
design. A thief, being thus marked, always carries
his character about him, and the citizens who see a
head in tV.eir vicinity wanting any of its proper ap
pendages, have only to be on their guard ; and thus,
as I said, prevention in many cases supersedes cure.
As M. Msara finished his explanation, we saw the
Cadi on duty. He goes out in the morning without

CAIRO. 77
making known his intended route ; takes his walk
with suitable attendants ; and stops at the first ba
zaar. He seats himself at random in one ofthe shops,
and examines the weights, measures, and merchan
dise. He lends an ear to all complaints, interrogates
any merchant accused of infraction of the law, and
then, without court or jury, and especially without
delay, pronounces judgement, applies the penalty, and
goes on in quest of other deUnquents. In these ca
ses, however, the punishment is of a different cha
racter. Notwithstanding the moral identity of the
crime, he cannot treat the offending merchant as a
common thief; that would have a prejudicial eff"ect
on commerce. The penalty is graduated thus : the
mildest, confiscation ; the moderate, closing the shop ;
the severest, exposure. This last is inflicted in a
singular manner. The culprit is placed with his
back against his shop, and is compelled to raise
himself on his toes until the weight of his whole body
rests on them ; his ear is then nailed to the door or
shutter ofhis shop. This punishment lasts two, four,
or six hours. It is true, the criminal may abridge its
duration whenever he chooses to let himself down ;
but the Turkish merchant is jealous of his reputation,
and nothing but the last necessity would induce him
to resemble a thief by the mutilation of his ears.
I stopped in front of one of these wretches, who
had just been nailed up. I was disposed to compas
sionate his case, but Mohammed told me he was an
habitue, and that if I would observe his ear closely,
I should find it was like a cullender. This changed
the current of my sympathies, and, as he was to re
main some time longer, I ceased to regret his suffer
ings, and rejoiced in the opportunity of making a
17*

78 CAIRO.
sketch. I drew forth crayons and paper, and begged
the rest to continue their route with M. Msara, leav
ing Mohammed to assist me in any embarrassment.
But Mayer would not quit me ; so we three remain
ed, and the others proceeded on their way.
My picture was composed : the criminal, nailed
by his ear, was standing stiff and motionless on the
extreme points of his great toes ; and, seated near
him, on the si|l of the door, was the guard charged
with seeing the punishment duly executed, smoking a
pipe. The quantity of tobacco in the pipe seemed
to be graduated to the time that the punishment was
to continue. Around these two personages was a
demi-circle of idlers. We took our places at one
side, and I commenced my task.
After a time, the culprit, finding he had nothing to
expect from the crowd, — among whom, perhaps, he
recognised some ofhis customers, — hazarded a word
to the guard.
" Brother," said he, " one law of our holy Prophet
is, that men should help one another."
The guard seemed to take no exception to this pre
cept in the abstract, and continued quietly to smoke.
" Brother," resumed the patient, " did you not hear
me?" The guard made no other reply than a large puff
of smoke, that ascended to his neighbour's nose.
"Brother," still persisted the man, "one of us can
aid the other, and do a thing acceptable to Ma
homet." The puffs of smoke succeeded each other with a
regularity that extinguished the poor fellow's hopes.
" Brother," cried the despondent, with a dolorous
voice, " put a stone under my heels, and I will give
you a piastre."

CAIRO. 79
No reply.
" Two piastres."
A pause.
" Three piastres."
Smoke.
" Four piastres."
" Ten piastres," said the guard quietly.
The ear and the purse of the man held a parley
which was visible in the countenance ; at length,
pain conquered, and ten piastres rolled to the feet
of the guard, who counted them with great delibera
tion, put them in his purse, rested his pipe against
the wall, and, picking up a pebble about as large as
the egg ofa tom-tit, placed it under the man's heels.
" Brother," said the culprit, •' I feel nothing under
my feet."
" A stone is there, however," answered the guard,
resuming his seat and his pipe : " but, it is true, I se
lected it in reference to your price. Give mc a talari
(five francs) and I will place a stone under you so
appropriate to your necessities, that you shall sigh
for it when you reach paradise."
The result may be anticipated ; the guard had his
money, and the merchant his stone. How the affair
terminated thereafter, I do not know. My drawing
was completed in half an hour, and we proceeded on
our walk.
As the heat began to be oppressive, Mohammed
made a sign, and two asses magnificently caparison
ed, were brought. They proved to be far the most
petulant beasts we had yet encountered : but we rame
out to sketch, and not to gain a prize at Chantilly.
We merely endeavoured to make them walk as we
wished ; but this was no easy matter, especially for

80 CAIRO.
Mayer, who being an officer of marines had little
taste for horsemanship. Mohammed assured us that
before the arrival of the French at Cairo, an ass
was never known to gallop ; but that the pacific
quadrupeds had no sooner experienced the power of
the new-comers' experiments, such as the point of a
bayonet in the flank, or a lighted match under the
tail, than they struck into that eternal gallop which
is now hereditary from generation to generation.
Mohammed pretended, too, that the beasts knew
well enough the origin and country of their riders :
and, indeed, I have seen one of them restive and in
tractable to-day under a European, and to-morrow
the same animal would be walking quietly with a
Turk on his back, or gently trotting between the
legs of a Cophtish merchant.
We visited, now, several bazaars. Each one is
nearly if not exclusively restricted to a single branch
of commerce, as each dealer in them is to one kind
of merchandise. We began with the bazaar of eata
bles. Its principal commodity was rice, which is the
article most easy of transportation, and, in fact, the
most common food ofthe people. There was, also,
a prepared paste of apricots, made in large, thin
sheets, and rolled up like a carpet; measuring some
times twenty-five or thirty feet in length, and three
or four in breadth. Another article was a compound
ed mass, in solid cubes of a hundred pounds weight,
made of dates ripe, dates too ripe, and dates too
green. This is furnished at a low price, and forms
the regular dessert, as rice does the regular dinner,
ofthe lower classes.
The bazaars for materials of dress, etc. are very
richly stored. India shawls are there in abundance.

CAIRO. 81
and at prices far less than in France. The bazaar
for arms is very sumptuous. The weapons are of
exquisite materials and workmanship. It is not usu
al, however, to find them in a finished state. You
buy a blade of one dealer, take it to the armourer's
for a handle, to the case-maker for a sheath, to the
silver-smith for the garnishing, and, finally, to the ex
aminer for the stamp. Some blades are held at an
exorbitant price ; two thousand and even three thou
sand francs.
To facilitate purchases, Jews are constantly pass
ing through the bazaars offering to change gold and
silver, or to lend money to known persons who may
need a larger sum than they happen to have brought
with them. The Jews are easily recognised by
their black dress, the laws of Cairo forbidding them
to appear ih any other colour.
As a conclusion to our day's journey, we went to
the bazaars of female slaves. The building which
encloses them is divided into miserable, square courts,
having cages ranged around the walls : these courts
are divided by a partition. The lower story is a
little the most comfortable, and is reserved for slaves
of high value.
The unfortunate beings were entirely destitute of
clothing. They were assorted by colour, nation, and
age. Jewesses were here with large black eyes,
straight noses, and serious faces ; Arabians of a
swarthy hue, with golden bands on their limbs ; Nu
bians with hair of remarkable fineness and luxuri
ance ; and young Greeks from Scio, Naxos, and Mi
le: among these latter was a child full of grace and
beauty ; I inquired the price demanded for her, a,nd
received for answer, three hundred francs.

82 CAIRO.
These slaves all assume a cheerful countenance;
for, horribly fed by their owners, and beaten for the
least fault on their own part, or the least caprice on
the part of their masters, no condition is worse for
them than to remain unsold ; and they naturally
enough use every exertion to render themselves
agreeable to visiters, that they may be induced to
purchase them.
Jews are found in these slave-bazaars; but here
their business is to sell clothes. As the slave is
transferred to the purchaser the moment a bargain
is made, and as she cannot be removed without some
sort of covering, of course the Jew finds a ready
market for his wares.
Near each bazaar is a magnificent fountain, en
closed by a bronze railing. A copper bowl is sus
pended within the railing by a chain. You reach
through the apertures, take the water in the bowl,
drink, and let the bowl fall back : another thirsty
throat is usually wailing for it. A group of Arabs
may always be seen seated at each fountain. They
move around with the sun, and keep themselves lazi
ly in the shade.
We left the bazaars so occupied with what we
had seen, that, for a time, we abandoned our asses
to their own wise guidance : they brought us sudden
ly in front of a troop of women going to the bath.
They were all on mules, were wrapped in white silk
mantles, and conducted by a eunuch with the insig
nia ofthe Pacha. Everybody vacated the road they
were to pass, the men throwing themselves down
with their faces to the ground, or hiding behind the
projecting comers and walls of houses ; Mayer and
I alone remained in the middle of the street. Mo-

CAIRO. 83
hammed, seeing our danger, immediately seized my
beast by the halter and drew him to one side, crying
out to Mayer, at the same time, " to the left ! to the
left, Seigneur Francais !" But this direction was
more easily given than understood. Mayer was a
sailor, and could comprehend no points but those of
the compass, together with starboard and larboard :
therefore, though desirous to move, yet fearing to go
wrong, he drew in both reins of the bridle at once ;
and his ass, like Balaam's, stood still. At this junc
ture he was encountered, face to face, by the eu
nuch, who, accustomed to disperse all obstacles by a
sign, lifted his cane and laid it over the ears of
Mayer's ass. The animal reared, Mayer slipped in
his saddle and was nearly thrown : but grasping the
pummel with one hand and the beast's neck with the
other, he recovered his balance, and, moving up to
the unconscious eunuch, laid him flat on the ground
with one of the finest blows that ever mortal eu
nuch received from mortal fist. Then, like a true
Parisian, he drew forth his card that the eunuch, if
not satisfied, might know where to find him. But
the sable champion, terrified by treatment to which
he was totally unaccustomed, raised himself on his
knees ; and, seeing Alayer's card thrust into his face,
humbly kissed it. Mayer, satisfied with this demon
stration, accomplished the manoeuvre indicated by
Mohammed, and rejoined us on the left. Mohammed,
without saying a word, seized our bridles, struck into
a gallop, and after threading a thousand irregular
streets, brought us to the court-yard of the French
Consul. We asked him the reason of this mute and
furious race : his only answer was, " tell the Consul,
tell the Consul."

84 CAIRO.
Indeed this proved the shortest way to find out what
the matter was. We sought the Consul, according
ly, and told him our adventure. He listened with
manifest consternation, and replied, " It has all ended
well ; but if the eunuch had ordered you to be
poignarded on the spot, I should not have dared to
remonstrate, nor even to claim your bodies."
All that saved us was the eunuch's momentary con
fusion at such an unexpected assault ; and his mis
taking us for two great personages and Mayer's card
for our firman.
We remained secreted at the Consul's until eve
ning, and then made our way quietly to our hotel.

CHAPTER IV.

MURAD.  THE PYRAMIDS.

On the 1st day of July, 1798, Napoleon landed in.
Egypt, near fort Marabout, a short distance from
Alexandria. I will state, in few words, the political situation of
Egypt when this event took place. Such brief ex
position will naturally lead me to the causes of the
French expedition, of which I must relate the princi
pal incidents, so many traces have they left in the pla
ces through which we are about to pass.
The Porte at that time had only nominal sway in
Egypt. The Pacha, Seid-Abou-Beker, was rather a
prisoner in the citadel of Cairo, than governor of the
city. The actual power was lodged in the two beys,
Murad and Ibrahim ; the former, Emir-el-Hadj, or
prince of the pilgrims ; the latter, Sheik-el-Belad, or
prince of the country.
For eight-and-twenty years, these two men had
divided Egypt between them as a lion and a tiger
divide their prey ; the one taking by force and the
other by cunning, such portions as they fancied ofthe
rich country around. For a time they contended
with each other ; but, taking alarm at the joy mani
fested by neighbouring beys who witnessed their dis
sensions, they buried their individual animosities and
8

MURAD.

united against a common danger. Once, in pursu
ance of Ibrahim's suggestion, they essayed to procure
a formal recognition from the Porte. They sent an
envoy on whom they could rely, to the Grand Seignor
with horses, arms, and stuffs as a voluntary tribute ;
but finding that their envoy was tampered with ; that
the title vekkcl, i. e. lieutenant of the Sultan for
Egypt, had been bestowed on him, and that bribes,
as he himself informed them, had been offered him
to watch them on his return, they stopped all con
cession and negotiation; fearing that some future
envoy, less loyal than the first, might bring them, in
exchange for their presents, a hidden poignard, or a
subtle poison. From this hour there was a covenant
for rapine and blood between these two men. Ibra
him by his base and shameless extortions, Murad by
bold achievements and open violence, drained the
country of its wealth ; Ibrahim, to heap up his booty
in secret ; Murad, to throw it by handfuls to his
Mamelukes, to cover his women with pearls, his
horses with trappings, and his arms with diamonds.
Being masters of Egypt, they monopolized and with
held provisions from the people ; then, opening their
storehouses as famine threatened, they filled the ba
zaars with rice and maize at exorbitant prices.
These extortions led to revolt ; revolt to contributions;
and, with a sentiment of justice truly Arabian, these
contributions were levied equally on Egyptians and
strangers. The French merchants were taxed ; the
consul complained to the Directory ; and the Direc
tory availed itself of these complaints as a pretext for
sending a French army into Egypt. The army came,
ostensibly, to revenge the insult offered to the nation ;
but in reality to destroy the commerce of London

NAPOLEON. 87
with Alexandria, and establish a military post at Suez,
the future relai of India.
When the two extraordinary men who governed
Cairo, learned that the French army had disembark
ed at Alexandria, they betrayed great, but opposite,
emotion. Ibrahim burst into reproaches against Mu
rad, whom he accused of having wantonly drawn
upon them a powerful foe : Murad sprang to his war-
horse, traversed the streets of Cairo with his Mame
lukes and commanded the muezzins to announce the
news. " It is well," said he ; " if I have drawn the
French to Egypt, I know how to drive them home
again." From this time there was neither rest nor peace for
Murad. His noble savage nature was roused to the
uttermost, and he proceeded with all the Mamelukes
he could hastily collect to meet the new-comers of
whom such wonderful things were related. A flotil
la of djermes, canges, and gun-boats descended the
Nile in company : and Ibrahim remained at Cairo to
imprison the French merchants and pillage their
warehouses. At Rahmanie, Napoleon received the intelligence
that the Mamelukes were advancing to meet him.
General Desaix, who commanded the vanguard from
Alexandria, wrote on the 14th of July from the vil
lage of Minieh-Salame that a detachment of twelve
or fourteen hundred cavalry were manceuvering at a
distance of three leagues, and that a hundred and
fifty Mamelukes had exhibited themselves at his out
posts that morning, Bonaparte took the same route
that we recently followed, accompanied, like Murad,
by a flotilla, which the commander of the division
Perree, was bringing from Rosetta. This road was

88 NAPOLEON.
the most diflScult and dangerous, but it was also the
shortest, and on that account Bonaparte chose it-
Murad, on his part, had spared Napoleon half the
journey by sending his vanguard to meet him ; and
the finest troops of the East and the West found
themselves opposed to each other.
The shock of the two-fold encounter by land and
water was terrible. The flotillas dashed against
each other, prow to prow ; the troops met at the
point of the bayonet and sabre. The Mamelukes,
covered with gold, swift as the wind, destructive as a
flame, charged our squares and hacked the barrels of
the guns with their Damascus blades : and when the
volleying thunder of these squares poured forth like
the blaze of a volcano, this fiery soldiery unrolled its
masses like a ribbonj wheeled off to re-form and then
galloped up again in squadrons to each angle of brist
ling steel. Finding it impossible to effect a breach
and reeling under the ready volleys which welcomed
them, they fled away as a long line of affrighted
birds, leaving around our battalions a moving belt of
mutilated men and horses ; again they wheeled at a
greater distance, formed, and returned to a new
charge as ineffectual and as fatal as the others.
In the middle of the day they made a flnal rally ;
but, instead of returning to the attack, they disap
peared under the horizon in a whirlwind of sand.
They were going to Murad with the news of his first
defeat. Murad was at Gizeh when he heard of the defeat
at Chehrheis. It was true, then ; the infidel dogs
were in chase of the lion. The same day messen
gers were sent to Said, to Fayoum, to the Desert —
everywhere. Beys, Sheiks, Mamelukes, all were con-

BATTLE OF THE PYRAMIDS. 89
voked against the common enemy ; every one was
summoned to come with his horse and weapons. In
three days, Murad was surrounded by six thousand
cavaliers. These fine troops were irregularly encamped
along the bank of the Nile, in sight of Cairo and
the Pyramids, and between the village of Embabeh,
against which their right wing rested, and Gizeh, the
favourite residence of Murad, to which they extend
ed their left. Murad had pitched his tent under a
gigantic sycamore which could shelter fifty armed
and mounted men under its branches. In this posi
tion he awaited the arrival of the French army with
the eager impatience of anticipated victory. Ibra
him had collected his women, treasures, and horses,
in readiness to fly into Upper Egypt.
Napoleon was informed, at the village of Omedi-
nar, that the Mamelukes were waiting for him before
Cairo. The city was the price of the battle. He
made his dispositions.
On the 23d, at day-break, Desaix, who was still
with the vanguard, discovered a party of five hundred
Mamelukes reconnoitering, who, at his approach, re
tired, but within sight. At four o'clock, Murad heard
a loud shouting : it was our entire army saluting the
Pyramids. At six o'clock, the two armies were in full view of
each other.
Survey for a moment the battle-field. It was the
same that Cambyses, the other conqueror, who came
Trom the other extremity of the world, had chosen on
which to meet and overwhelm the Egyptians. Since
that period, twenty-four centuries had rolled away;
8*

90 THE BATTLE OF
the Nile, the Pyramids were still the same ; the gran
ite Sphinx, whose 'face had been mutilated by the
Persians, reared only her gigantic head above the
sand ; the Colossus, of which Herodotus speaks, was
fallen ; Memphis had disappeared ; and Cairo had
risen. All these thrilling recollections of the past,
distinct and present to the minds of the French offi
cers, hovered vaguely over the heads of the soldiers
like the strange birds which, in ancient days, flutter
ed over the battle and presaged victory.
The ground was a vast sandy plain, suitable to the
manoeuvres of cavalry. The village of El-Bekir arose
in the middle of it. A small stream partly enclosed
it in front of Gizeh.
Napoleon's intention was not merely to defeat, but
to exterminate the Mamelukes. He deployed his
troops into a semi-circle, forming each division into
squares of unusual size, in the centre of which he
placed the artillery. Desaix, accustomed to the front,
commanded the first square, which was stationed be
tween Embabeh and Gizeh. Then came, in order,
the division of Regnier ; the division Kleber, com
manded by Dugua ; the division Menou, commanded
by Vial ; and, lastly, the division of General Bon,
forming the extreme left, resting upon the Nile, and
nearest to Embabeh.
All these squares were directed to put themselves
in motion, and advancing upon Embabeh, to drive
horses, Mamelukes, everything, before them into the
Nile. But Murad was not the man to await, behind a
few sand-hills, the onset and stratagie of the French
troops.

THE PYRAMIDS. 91
Scarcely were the squares formed, when the Ma
melukes burst forth from their entrenchments in ir
regular masses, and, without method or order, dash
ed towards the nearest squares : these were the di
visions of Desaix and Regnier.
When within point-blank musket range, they sep
arated into two columns, drooped their heads to the
saddle-bow, and rushed, severally, to the left angle
of the division Regnier, and the right of the division
Desaix. The squares reserved their fire until the
Mamelukes were within ten paces of their lines, and
then, with deliberate aim, poured upon them a volley
that was astoundingly fatal. The heads of the columns
sunk to the ground as if an earthquake had swallow
ed them ; the remainder of the squadrons, arrested
in their course by this wall of flame and steel, yet
unwiUing to retreat, ranged along the whole face of
the square Regnier, whose sustained fire, however,
at such murderous proximity, threw them, in some
confusion, on the division of Desaix, around which
they flew like a whirlwind. This division, finding
itself enveloped with such a tempest of cavalry, now
poured forth a storm of musketry on every side, and,
occasionally, as a brief opportunity presented, opened
its angles to emit the destructive thunder of its ar
tillery. Meanwhile every effort was made by this fierce
soldiery to break or disorder our immoveable squares.
They would retire, form, charge in close column ;
and, as their horses recoiled from the serried ranks
of bristling bayonets, they would deploy and rein
them backwards on the lines, kicking, plunging, rear
ing, and often falling upon the guns ; and the riders,
thus dismounted into the very arms ofthe infantry,

92 THE BATTLE OF
or under their feet, would drag themselves along
and cut ^at the legs of the men with their sabres.
This horrid melee lasted for three-quarters of an
hour, during which time the infantry within the
squares, were mowing down their mounted as
sailants with incessant volleys of musketry. From
the ferocity of the Mamelukes, our troops could no
longer recognise them as men, but thought they
were dealing with phantoms and demons, flying ir
regularly through clouds of smoke and flame, on
horses as ghostly as themselves. Finally, the strug
gling cavalry, the yells, the neighing, the flame, and
the smoke disappeared and ceased. There remained
nothing around and between these two divisions but
a mass of the dead and dying, a sea of blood and
carnage; bristling with arms, sprinkled with stan
dards, murmuring and moving still, though with a
subdued motion, like the yet unquieted billows after
an ocean-storm.
Napoleon had now given the signal for a general
attack. Bon, Menou and Vial were ordered to de
tach from their respective divisions the first and third
companies of each battalion, and form in columns :
while the second and fourth companies, retaining
their relative position, should compress their squares
and advance to sustain the attack, presenting only
three men deep.
The body of dispersed and defeated Mamelukes
had directed its course towards the little village of
El-Bekir to re-organize ; but an incidental occur
rence threw them at this moment into the power of
the French.
As I have already observed, the divisions of Desaix
and Regnier arrived first on the field and were post-

THE PYRAMIDS. 93
ed between the Nile and El-Bekir, before the battle
commenced. Some of the troops thinking that this
village might contain provisions and water, asked
permission to reconnoitre it. The supposition was
plausible, and besides it was important to inspect the
place, as a detachment of the enemy might be con
cealed there, ready to make an unexpected sally.
Desaix therefore ordered four coriipanies of grena
diers and carabineers, a company of the fourth regi
ment of artillery, and a complement of sapeurs to
occupy the village, under the command of Dorsenne
and Paige, and take possession of what provisions
they could find. The foragers were not disappoint
ed in their expectations, but were securing a large
supply of stores, when the rattling of musketry and
the roar of cannon apprized them that the battle had
suddenly begun.
Dorsenne, aware that his small reinforcement
could now be of little value to the divisions they had
left, and fearing to be hemmed in if he made any
demonstration, quietly distributed his six companies
behind the walls of enclosures, in houses, and on terr
races. To return, the Mamelukes hurried directly to this
village like a flock of partridges ready to alight : but
scarcely had the head of the column entered the
street, when the houses and terraces blazed with the
rapid and deadly fire of an ambuscade ! The Mam
elukes, however, did not retire or falter ; but the
mass unrolled itself, like a prodigious serpent, through
the street, and passed, bleeding and mutilated, through
the opposite gate. They formed in their flight an
immense semi-circle, crossed the little river, and re
appeared on the right of Desaix's division.

94 THE BATTLE OF
At this instant all the squares advanced, enclosing
Embabeh in their iron-circle ; and, at the same time,
Murad's flotilla and entrenchments opened their bat
teries from the Nile. Thirty-seven pieces of artille
ry crossed their net-work of fire along the plain, and
Murad himself, at the head of three thousand cava
liers, advanced under cover of this fire to break the
squares, embarrassed, for the first time, by his can
non. The column retreating from El-Bekir joined
him at this crisis, and they attacked in concert.
It must have been a wondrous sight to the eagle
hovering over thc battle-field, to see these six thou
sand horsemen, the finest in the world, mounted on
horses that left no foot-print on the sand, doubling
like hounds around these blazing and immoveable
squares ; encircling them as with a band, and strain
ing them in its ligature ; seeking to crush and suffo
cate by envelopement what they could not open or
break by collision : then dispersing, reforming to dis
perse again, and changing position like waves beat
ing against the shore. On a sudden the batteries of
Murad changed their direction : the Mamelukes heard
the thunder of their own guns pointed against their
own masses, and they fell in scores under the iron
rain of their own balls : then the flotilla took fire and
blew up with a loud explosion. The cause of all
this was soon apparent. While Murad was bending
every effort to destroy our squares, our more distant
columns of attack had reached and carried his en
trenchments, and Marinont now commanded the
whole field with his guns. '
Napoleon ordered a final movement and all was
finished. The squares opened, deployed into line,
united their several flanks, and stood one immense

THE PYRAMIDS. 95
chain of iron. The Mamelukes were now between
their own entrenchments and the whole French line,
receiving from each a sustained and insupportable
fire. Murad saw that the day was irretrievably lost ;
he ralhed the remnant of his men, who, lowering
their heads and putting spurs to their horses, galloped
down this double line of exterminating shot through
the narrow interval left by Desaix between his di
vision and the Nile. They thus forced their way in
to the village of Gizeh, re-appeared an instant after
beyond its enclosures, and retired towards Upper
Egypt, reduced to three hundred men.
Ibrahim, who took no part in the combat further
than watching its progress from the opposite shore
of the river, no sooner saw the day lost, than he re
entered Cairo.
Murad left three thousand men,* forty pieces of
artillery, forty loaded camels, with tents, horses, and
slaves, on the field. This field, thus covered with
gold, cashmeres, and silks, was abandoned to the con
quering troops : the booty was immense, as the Ma
melukes were covered with their richest panoply,
and carried about their persons all the gold, silver
and jewels they possessed.
That night Napoleon slept at Gizeh, in Murad's
villa. And that night Ibrahim set out for Belbis, capi
tal of the province of Charkieh, carrying with him
Seid-Abou-Beker, the representative of the Grand
Seignor. The next day the French merchants came to head
quarters and gSve such intelligence to Napoleon that
"Throughout this description there is a confusion and inconsistency
as to the nuij^ers of the Mamelukes, for which the author, not the
translator, is responsible.

96 CAIRO IN THE HANDS
he resolved to take possession of Cairo that evening,
and despatched the Adjutant-General Beauvais to
General Bon, at Embabeh, commanding him to send
General Dupuy to occupy the city with the grena
dier companies of the 32d brigade. Dupuy assem
bled his troop immediately, and quietly prepared
with two hundred men to possess himself of a city
containing three hundred thousand inhabitants. His
instructions were to penetrate, under cover of night,
into the Frank-quarter, and there entrench himself.
He effected the passage of the Nile, from Embabeh
to Boulac, at eight o'clock in the evening.
The night was advanced when this little band
reached the walls of Cairo. The gates were shut,
but no gur.rds remained to defend them. The French
pushed them open and saw a sombre and silent city :
they might have imagined that they were entering
the Tombs of the Caliphs.
General Dupuy ordered the drums to beat, so that
the rear-guard might not lose its way in the wind
ing and inhospitable streets ; and the unusual noise,
instead of rousing the Arabs from their lethargy, only
inspired them with deeper terror.
But it was no ea.sy matter for our soldiers to find
the Frank-quarter in a city where, even in the day
time, a guide is indispensable. At one o'clock, after
a profitless and tedious march through the uneven
and stony streets, General Dupuy came to a halt,
and commanded to force the doors of a large house
in front. It happened to belong to a Mameluke
chief, a follower of Murad, and was uninhabited.
The troops entered and established themselves till
day, sleeping as quietly as if they had been quarter
ed in the centre of Paris.

OF TIIE FRENCH TROOPS. 97
This was the first act of the taking possession of
Cairo. The same day Bonaparte with his staff,
made an entry into the Capital of Egypt. For two
years we remained masters of Cairo and all the
Delta. To such recollections which, as Frenchmen, we
must necessarily indulge in, we for a time surren
dered ourselves.
Our next ramble was to the place Erbekieh, on
one of the terraces of which Kleber was assassi
nated. The siege that Cairo sustained after its second re
volt was very disastrous to the city. Many houses
were burnt, and many so injured as to be uninhabita
ble. Among the latter was General Kleber's. He
had, in consequence, taken up a temporary residence
in Gizeh, at Murad's villa ; visiting Cairo daily, how
ever, to direct the repairs. On the 25th prairial of
the year VIII. (June 14th, 1800,) he was walking
in a gallery overlooking the place and giving some
instructions to M. Protain, an architect, when a
young Arab sprang upon him suddenly, and before
the General could defend himself, struck him four
blows with a poignard, one of which penetrated to
the right auricle of the heart. M. Protain endeav
oured to protect him with a cane that he carried, but
he himself received six wounds from the assassin and
fainted. When he revived the Arab had disappear
ed, and Kleber was still leaning against the balus
trade, but without strength and nearly speechless.
M. Protain referred to his imprudence in venturing
to go without an escort; but Kleber, extending his
hand towards him, said " my friend, this is no time
9

08 GENERAL KLEBER.
to give me advice ; I feel very badly " — and fell
dead. The same day the Quarter-masters Perrin and
Robert, found in the garden of the French baths a
young Arab secreted behind a dilapidated wall,
which in some places was stained with blood. He
had a dark compl.rxion, piercing eyes, and was short
and slender. When brought before a court-martial
assembled to try him, he declared his name to be
Solyman-el-Haleby, a native of Syria, aged twenty-
four years: by profession, a scribe at Alep. He refu
sed to state anything further.
"The accused, persisting in his silence," say the
minutes, " the General commanded that he receive
the bastinado, according to the usage ofthe country.
It was inflicted until he declared himself ready to
speak the truth. Re-conducted before the court, (I
give the questions and answers verbatim from the
minutes) Interrogated, How long he had been in Cairo.
Answers, Thirty-one days, and that he came from
Gaza in six days on a dromedary.
Interrogated, Why he came here.
Answers, That he came to assassinate the Gener-
al-in-chief. Interrogated, By whom he had been sent to com
mit the said a sassination.
Answers, That he was sent by the agha ofthe ja
nissaries : that on their return to Egypt the Mussul
man-troops had inquired for some one who would
assassinate the General-in-chief : that they had prom
ised money and military preferment, and tha the had
presented himself for this purpose.
Interrogated, Who were the persons to whom he

GENERAL KLEBER. 99
had been directed in Egypt, and whether he had re
vealed his project to any one since his arrival in
Cairo. Answers, That he had been directed to no one,
and that he had lodged at the Grand mosque."
Wiih such avowals, judgement was not long delay
ed. Solyman, found guilty of assassinating Kleber,
the General-in-chief, was condemned to have his
right-hand burnt off; to be impaled ; to expire on the
pale and to remain there until his body should be de
voured by birds of prey.
The execution of this sentence took place on the
mound of the fort de I'Institut, at the return of the
funeral procession of General Kleber, in presence of
the whole army in mourning, and in view of the af
frighted inhabitants ; affrighted because, accustomed
to the pacha's and bey's administration of justice, who
make a whole city answerable for the crime of one
man, they could not believe that the punishment was
to end with Solyman.
Solyman was a true Arabian assassin. Believing
himself the victim of fate, he walked to the place of
execution without fear or ostentation, calmly and
firmly as a martyr. His vest, which covered his
breast, was first stripped off" and his hand then pla
ced on the brazier. It had remained there five min
utes without his uttering a moan, when, suddenly, a
live coal snapped from the fire and alighted on his
arm. His firmness now disappeared in a moment :
he struggled violently, and demanded that the coal
should be taken off. The executioner expressed his
surprise that a man who had shown such fortitude
while his hand was consuming, should complain so
loudly for a trifling burn.

100 GENERAL KLEBER.
" It is not the pain that causes my cries," said So
lyman ; " but I insist on my right. That coal is not
in my sentence."*
After his hand was entirely consumed, the execu
tioner made him ascend the minaret of the adjacent
mosque and impaled him on the spire of the cupola.
He remained in this situation four hours and a half
without dying, reciting verses from the Koran, and
interrupting himself only to ask for a drink. At
length the muezzin brought him a glass of water ; he
drank it, and expired. His corpse remained on the
spire nearly a month, during which time the birds
of prey accomplished the last part ofthe sentence.
The skeleton of this unfortunate wretch was
brought to France in company with the body of his
victim. It was placed in the building adjoining the
Jardin-au-Roi, in the first hall of anatomy, at the left
of the door of entrance. It is that of a man about
five feet two inches in height. The bones of the
right wrist are burned, and the effect of the fire is
still visible. The pale had broken two of the dor-
.sal vertebrae : they have been replaced by two in
wood which resemble the natural ones so closely that
a particular observation is necessary to distinguish
them. We resolved to visit the Pyramids the next day,
pass over the battle ground and return by Gizeh. At
day-break our beasts were at the door ; we mount
ed, and proved their good qualities by arriving at
Boulac in ten minutes. We here crossed the Nile ;
and immediately found ourselves on that field where,
* The heroic and the childish, if not the sublime and the ridicu
lous, approximate very closely in this reply.

TIIE PYRAMIDS. 101
thirty-two years before, the great contest between
the East and West was decided. The heights of
Embabeh command ihe whole view ; but our survey
was short ; for everything here was for association
and thought, and nothing for description.
On our landing, the first Pyramid seemed to be
within a stone's throw ; yet owing to the actual dis
tance, and to the character of the intervening sand,
in which our beasts sunk to their knees at every step,
nearly five hours were occupied in reaching it.
The largest Pyramid, and the one we preferred to
ascend, rests on a base six hundred and ninety feet*
long, and appears, from below, slightly sloping at its
summit. It is built of large stones, placed on each
other in receding tiers, and has the appearance, on
its sides, of a gigantic stair-case, each step of which
is about four feet high and ten inches broad. The
ascent appeared, at first, difficult, if not impossible ;
but Mohammed attacked an angle, sprang with ad
dress up the first step and invited us to follow him, as
if it were the easiest thing in the world. Still, how
ever slight might be the pleasure of clambering up
wards more than four hundred feet under a bi oiling
sun, and with a dazzling reflection in our eyes from
the stones to which we must cling like lizards, we
were ashamed to stay behind.
This was Mayer's turn to triumph. Accustomed,
in his vocation, to run up the rigging of his ship, he
mounted from ledge to ledge like a goat in a frolic.
We followed as we best could ; and, after twenty
minutes of hard labour, we reached the top without
* Thj reader will bear it in mind, th.it \vhenevcr/ee( are mention
ed in this work, they are Frencli feet, each of which is about twelve
and three-quarter inches English. 9*

102 THE PYRAMIDS.
any nails on our fingers or skin on our knees. Our
next care, — and we were immediately impressed with
it, — was to descend: for the little fat which this
Egyptian sun had left on our bones, was fast melting
away. However, fat or no fat, I resolved to turn my
labour to some account, and have a view of the land
scape before I descended. Turning my back to
Cairo, the immense forest of palms that covers the
site of Memphis was on my left ; beyond the forest
stood the Pyramids of Sakkarah ; beyond these lay
the Desert ; in front, the Desert ; on my right, the
Desert : in short, a vast plain, of the colour of fire,
unvaried save by here and there a sand-hill, now
heaped up by the wind, to be, by the wind, levelled
again the next hour. Facing about, there lay Egypt,
i. e. the Nile, gliding through an emerald-valley; then
Cairo, a living city, between Fostat and the Tombs
ofthe Caliphs, her two dead sisters: and beyond the
Tombs of the Caliphs, the sterile range ofthe Mo
kattan mountains enclosing the landscape with gran
ite walls.
I stepped around the platform, which appeared to
extend thirty or thirty-five feet. Some enormous
stones were lying about,, like peaks torn from the
crest of a mountain. These are covered with names,
among which are some, still legible, of those belong
ing to the Egyptian expedition. Near these I saw
Charles Nodier and Chateaubriand, inscribed bv M.
Taylor on a previous visit.
I now looked at the foot of the Pyramid, where
stood our asses and drivers, like beetles and ants.
I attempted to throw a stone to them, but, with
all my efforts, I could not cast it clear of the
base : it fell on the side, and bounded along to the
ground.

THE PYRAMIDS. 103
The latter motion of this stone struck me as typical
ofmy own descent, which process now presented a
difficulty unlike, and yet not inferior to that of our as
cent. The width of the steps was so disproportioned
to their height, that each upper edge overhung or
rather hid the step that next succeeded it ; and the
only method of reaching the ground seemed to be a
sheer slide in a sitting posture. Luckily, one thinks
twice before attempting such a glissade. On step
ping to the very verge of the first stone, the second
became visible; and a succession of well graduated
jumps accomplished tho task safely. Still, I would
recommend all persons liable to vertigo, to refrain
from ascending the Pyramids.
When I reached the ground, I threw myself on
the sand, dying with heat and thirst. I had not thought
of the latter before, so much was I occupied with
other matters. Mohammed discoursed very sagely
about the necessity of drinking but little at a time ; and
I replied by seizing the bottle from his hand and
draining it at a draught. Hunger was the next af
fection ; and as all were of one mind on this point,
breakfast was ordered, instanter. The sumpter-ass
was marched up, and we observed with satisfaction
that no accident had happened to its freight.
We made the circuit of the Pyramid to find a
shade. But the sun was in its zenith, and blazed
equally on the four sides of the tomb of Cheops. We
could not find a spot where it was possible to remain
more than five minutes without becoming crazy. At
this juncture, one of our Arabs pointed out the en
trance into the Pyramid, on the north side, and about
one-third of the distance to the top. This sombre
orifice, through which one might imagine that the

104 THE PYRAMIDS.
Colossus breathed, seemed to promise shade and
coolness; and, despite our exhaustion, we mounted
with some alacrity to reach it. In five minutes we
were in a dining-room, which, if not very commodi
ous, was sufficiently cool.
After our breakfast, we ordered torches to explore
the inside of the Pyramid. The entrance is by a
square corridor about three feet in dimension, de
scending at an angle of forty-five degrees. As we
receded from fhe entrance, the heat rapidly dimin
ished ; but the air, thickened by the smoke of the
torches, and mixed with the impalpable dust raised
by our motion, was very difficult to breathe. The
two chambers, within, are known as the King's
room and the Queen's room : in the former is a sar
cophagus of granite, with the cover broken ; the lat
ter is empty.
We left these chambers (containing nothing to re
pay the trouble of a visit) to salute her highness, the
Sfihinx. It is nearer to the Nile than the Pyramids
by a few hundred yards ; and may be called the gi
gantic dog that watches this granite flock. With the
assistance of my Arabs, I succeeded in mounting its
back, and from its back to its head, which was no
easy job. Mayer immediately followed. I then slip
ped down to the shoulders of the Colossus, and from
there to the ground, and began to sketch. Mayer,
standing on its ear, served for its plume, and also sup
plied me with a scale of proportion.
Near the large Pyramid, stands a smaller one which
is perfectly preserved, and terminates in a clearly
defined point. It is rarely ascended. Our Arabs
told us that the first person who ever attempted the
ascent was a French drummer, who, pursued by the

THB OSPHAH CHICKEXS. 105
Mamelakes, flew ap its precipit us sides, well know
ing that, at least, the horses could not follow him.
Arrived at the top, he braced his drum and beat the
rapptl with all his might. The noise was heard for
a ;ea2"je around, and General Regnier despatched
two companies to the rescae. They soon put the
Mamelukes to flight, raised the siege, and ilonsieur
le tambour descended with the honours of war.
We re-mojntei our asses and returned by Gizeh,
not lo see Murad's villa, of which, I beheve. no ves
tige remains : but to visit the establishment of the or
phan chicheris.
It is well known that, in the place of bens (which,
with thc best intentions and the greatest devotion in
the world, cannot cover more than a dozeo or fif
teen eggs at a time.) the Egyptians have substitu
ted ovens heated by steam, each capable of contain
ing some thousands of eggs. This institution is un
der the direction of a man who both hatches on his
own account, and undertakes the incubation of all
eg^s brought by others ; and, iar a small premiam,
he g-jarantees a successful result. The dormitorv"
where he places his encoques boarders is a long gal
lery, with two ranges of cells on either side, which
communicate with each other by small openings for
the purpo'se of admitting the heat from the fnmace
below. The mouths of the cells open into the corri
dor, but are tightly closed for the first ten or twelve
days : after that they are gradqaliy opened, day by
day, until the twentieth, when the chickens are ready
to emerge.
We arrived just as an oven was in labour. The
operation is quite simple. The eggs are broken, as
if for an omelette, and the chickens are shelled out

106 THE NILOMETER.
like peas. They are then thrown back, one over an
other, into the oven. The first act of their lives is a
trial which can squall the loudest ; and the second,
a search for food. But the latter is an unprofitable
pursuit, since the master of the establishment enga
ges to hatch, but not to feed them. They will live
in this way three days ; at the end of which time, if
not called for by their owners, they become the prop
erty ofthe hatcher.
Returning to Cairo, we passed the isle of Rou
dah, where the Nilometer is built. This instrument,
which measures the height of the inundations of
the Nile, is merely a column of eighteen cubits, in
cluding the capital, on which the level of the river
at its greatest elevation is marked each year. This
meJiias, much injured by the French at the taking of
Cairo, was restored by order of General Menou, un
der the direction of Citizen Chabroi, Engineer of
roads and bridges. Having finished the repairs, he
constructed a portico at the entrance of the monument,
and placed on the peristyle above the door a white
marble tablet bearing the following inscription in
French and Arabic :
"Is THE NAME OF THE GrACIOUS AND MercIFUL
God:
" In the year IX. of the French Republic, and
1215th of the Hegira, thirty months after Egypt was
conquered by Bonaparte, Menou, the General-in-
Chief, repaired this mekias. The Nile, at low-water,
reached three cubits, ten finger-breadths, on the col
umn, the tenth day after the solstice of the year VIII.
" It began to increase at Cairo on the sixteenth day
after this solstice.

the NlLOMBTER. 107
" It had risen two cubits, three finger-breadths,
above the shaft of the column, on the one hundred
and seventh day after this solstice.
" It bcsan to decrease on the one hundred and
fourteenth day after this solstice.
"The whole ground was inundated. This extraor
dinary overflow of fourteen cubits, seventeen finger-
breadths, gives reason to hope for a very fruitful sea
son." That evening, on our return to Cairo, M. Eydoux,
Surgeon of thc Lander who accompanied us to cure
us of the opthalmia, was himself attacked with the
disease. M. Msara advised us to send immediately
for M. Dessap, a French physician of Besanron, who
had remained in Cairo since Napoleon's expedition,
and acquired great experience in affections of tho
eye. He was immediately sent for, and in an hour
he made his appearance with a beard descending
to his waist.
The Arabs, who estimate a man's science by thc
length ofhis beard, hold him in the highest venera
tion. Wc are proud to say that he deserves such re
spect : with him their sign fulfils its promise.

CHAPTER V.

visit to colonel selves and to clot-bey.*
M. Taylor, having been apprized of the Vice-roy's
return to Alexandria, set off for that city, leaving us
to hasten the preparations for our visit to the Holy
Land. Thanks to the miraculous topographical instinct
of Parisians, we soon became as familiar with Cairo
as if we were born there. Our Mussulman costume,
which (though I say it) we wore with perfect orien
tal dignity, gave us entrance to all doors, even those
of the mosques. These last were our favourite prom
enade. They are the oases of the city ; they abound
in coolness, shade, water, trees, and birds. Here, in
the intervals between the hours of prayer, come the
Arab-poets to comment on the verses of the Koran,
and their songs lull the pious idlers, who lie all the
day long under the flowering orange-trees. We were
pleased with the monotonous and measured voice of
the muezzin, who, while young, ascends to the top
of his madeneh, and, in a sanctimonious strain, calls
the people to prayer ; and then, as he groves older,
* I have thought it most proper to give the titles of these chapters
as I find them, — although in several instances they bear Uttle or no
relation to the context.

CAIRO. 109
ascends a story less and less, and lowers his voice to
a fainter and fainter pitch, until, at length, grown
feeble by age, he can get no higher than the first
gallery, and can speak no louder than to reach the
ears of those within a few feet of him.
We were often at the mosque at the hour for ab
lution, and we took part in this religious ceremony
like true Mussulmans. One would have thought,
from the fervour with which we bathed our hands
and noses, that we had just arrived from the holy
cities, Medina or Mecca. After this ceremony, we
were always much amused at the struggle of the
Mussulmans for their property at the outside of the
mosque. Every one, on entering, uncovers his feet
at the threshold, so that a mountain of slippers, of all
forms, colours, and sizes, is soon accumulated. As
at our balls at home, when the assembly disperses,
each man takes, not his own articles, but the best he
can find, so it is here ; a search is impossible ; each
one takes what he can get, and always retires differ
ently shod from what he came. As for the extreme
ly devout, they retire entirely unshod ; for those who
last preceded them, being discontented with the quali
ty of what is left, take their satisfaction in quantity
from the remainder, and walk off" with four slippers,
two on their feet and two in their hands.
It can easily be imagined how frequently and
variously the pleasure of visiting these places may
be enjoyed in Cairo, where sixty mosques are count
ed in a single street. We took drawings of the
most remarkable : the gigantic mosque ofthe Sultan
Hassan, where the insurgents retired during the re
volt of Cairo, and whence they were driven by the
cavalry and artillery ; the mosque of Mahomet-Bey,
- 10

110 CAIRO.
the cupola of which is supported by columns brought
from ancient Memphis ; Mu-Rustam, enriched with
precious mosaics, wonderful remains of the art of the
eleventh and twelfth centuries ; Halaon, with its
square pillars covered to the very top -vi'iih faiences
of a most dazzling colour ; Sultan-Houri, with its
rich ceilings of arabesques, curiously interlaced and
painted ; and, finally, Tayloun, which was founded
by the conqueror of that name. This last is the most
venerated by the Arabs, who voluntarily pray there
oftener than any where else ; and it is the most
remarkable to strangers, on account of its antiquity,
(the ninth century,) its prodigious extent, and its ma
deneh, surrounded by an exterior stair-case that pro
duces quite a picturesque effect.
In sketching the inside of this edifice, I was very
near giving serious offence to its worshippers. As
Christians can never enter a mosque without expos
ing themselves to a punishment, the nature and ex
tent of which depends on the choice of those who sur
prise them there ; and as, on the other hand, very few
Mussulmans are addicted to drawing or painting, I
took the precaution, every time I attempted to sketch,
to choose the moment when the mosque was desert
ed, or contained only a few waking sleepers, who,
lost in their opium stupor, were stretched under or
ange-trees : or a few poets, who, absorbed in the in
terpretation of the Koran, or admiration of them
selves, paid little attention to me. I then drew from
my girdle, with my drawing materials, a sheet of pa
per filled with Arabic characters, and began my task.
If I heard a measured and lazy step approach, I
would quietly but quickly slip the written sheet over
my sketch : the Mussulman, in passing, would cast a

CAIRO.

Ill

side glance at me, see the writing, mistake me for a
copyist or a poet, and wish me inspiration or pa
tience, according as he thought my head or my hand
was employed. One day I was so completely ab
sorbed in the contemplation of my work, that one of
the strictest frequenters of the mosque approached
without my hearing him : on a sudden I perceived a
shadow between me and the light ; I instinctively
drew forth my written sheet, but it was too late.
The holy man had seen my drawing, and recognised
me for a Frank. This discovery filled him with such
horror, that he commenced a flight towards one of
the interior doors, uttering, in his course, the most
unearthly yells. I lost no time in following his ex
ample ; hastily thrust drawing, Arabic, and crayons
into my girdle ; and, without ceremony, ran for the
door. I did not stay to find my own slippers, but
seized the first at hand, traversed the neighbouring
streets, and heard nothing more of my persecutor.
However, I had hardly escaped this peril of an un
known punishment, when I fell into another peril, that
of being bastinadoed with bamboos in a crowd in which
I was caught. A house in the Frank-quarter was on
fire ; and, as it was in my direction, and I had the
best reasons in the world not only to move with
speed, but also to mingle with the people, I most
gladly joined the mass and hurried on. We soon ar
rived in front of the fire, which was taking its own
course, without any one's combatting it except by
cries, gestures, and prayers. In the mean time the
Cadi arrived with his guard, who were armed with
bamboos. They fell upon the crowd pell-mell, and
in less than a minute the place was cleared : a com
pany of soldiers, aided by a hundred volunteers, then

112 CAIRO.
arrived, set upon the houses adjoining the fire, and, as
they were all of wood, they within an hour were
brought level with the ground. The burning house
was now isolated : the soldiers hewed down with
axes its four principal supporters, and it immediately
fell in ; they threw water on the rubbish and returned
home, leaving a guard over the ruins.
My recreations in the cafes were much less peril
ous than my sketching in the mosque. As these
establishments are not sacred, a Christian may
visit them without risk. The opium smokers and the
chess and mangallah-players are their most frequent
customers. I, not being an amateur of either game,
asked simply for coffee and a pipe. As the cof
fee is prepared here very differently from what we
are accustomed to at home, being slightly burned,
bruised in a mortar, scalded with water, and served
at a boiling temperature, I could not suppose it pala
table without sugar, and I ordered some accordingly.
A servant brought me some brown sugar in the palm
of his hand. I asked him for a spoon to stir it ; and
he picked up a stick from the ground, and handed it
to me. As I make it a rule never to mortify the fe.el-
ings of a stranger, even by indirection, I held out my
cup, notwithstanding my repugnance to the sugar-
dish, scraped the stick with my knife to remove su
perfluities, and most effectually spoiled my drink.
I then called for another cup, which I ventured to
taste in its oriental purity ; I found it had a delicious
aroma, and an exquisite flavour. By reason of the
very slight consistency of this beverage, a person may
drink from twenty-five to thirty cups a day ; it then
acts as a tonic, and the pipe serves for amusement.
For this reason, one seldom visits any place with-

VISIT TO COLONEL SELVES. 113
out being offered coffee and a pipe ; the former to
restore the strength debilitated by the heat, and the
latter to take the place of conversation.
The mischance that had nearly happened to me at
the mosque, kept us for a time from those prohibited
places, and we resolved to malte another excursion
out of the city. Passing through old Cairo, we one
day met Col. Selves, who expressed a desire to see
M. Taylor under his tent, and requested us to give:
him the invitation. Col. Selves, now Solyman-Bey,
had renounced the Christian for the Mahometan re
ligion, and his French habits for an oriental life. Not
withstanding this change of faith and character, his
heart remains faithful to Europe and his national
recollections. The walls of his house are painted
with the most glorious battles of the Revolution and
the Empire ; and thus, with the aid of his sight and
his memory, he still lives in the midst of his compa
triots. He showed us these with so sad a smile, that
we saw how severe had been the conflict in his soul,
when committing what in France is termed his apos-
tacy. He made us promise to spend a day with himj
and one morning called to claim its fulfilment. His
magnificent cange was waiting for M. Taylor, and
subject to his orders, at Roudah. It was to conduct
us to the Pyramids of Sakkara and the ruins of Mem
phis ; and, on our return, we were to dine with the
French officers attached to the service of the Vice
roy, a I'Europeene. We set out with M. Msara, whom
we took with us in all our excursions.
The wind was fine ; the landscape charming. The
Nile, which the ancients called the Father of Rivers
glided beneath us : the waves that surrounded our
bark had laved the ruins of Thebes and Philse ; the
10*

114 VISIT TO COLONEL SELVES.
men and women on the shore were clothed as in the
days of Ishmael and Hagar. It would be impossible
to feel a moment's weariness amid such scenes, even
if the conversation of Solyman-Bey and M. Msara
had not shed another charm over the localities.
Among his other French tastes. Col. Selves had
retained the one for hunting. I asked him several
questions about the animals he had met in his excur
sions, and particularly concerning the crocodiles
above the upper cataract.
The crocodile never descends into Lower Egypt.
One must ascend the Nile as high as Denderach to
find them. During the hottest days when the Nile
is low, they leave the water to bask in the sunshine.
However, before doing this, they take precautions,
which show that they fully understand the danger
they incur by leaving their own element to trespass
on ours. Their favourite resort, in these cases, are
the islands of sand made in the bed of the river at
its reflux ; and here they can be seen from the shore
lying motionless, and appearing like the trunks of
trees. They are usually surrounded by large birds
with whom they seem to maintain a good under
standing, especially with the pehcan, which bird is
to the crocodile what the heron is to the cows and
buffaloes of the Pontine marshes : a strange compan
ion, and attached by an inexplicable sympathy.
When there are no islands of sand, the crocodile
resolves to seek sunshine on the shore ; but he never
ventures more than five or six paces from the water's
edge, and be flies to the water again on hearing the
least noise. Here the pelican is of great assistance
to him. On perceiving the least approach of dan
ger, it gives the alarn? by flapping its wings and

VISIT TO COLONEL SELVES. 115
screaming, when the crocodile with a single spring
regains the river. This creature is covered with a
musket-proof skin, and is vulnerable only beneath its
shoulders ; therefore even when surprised it is but
rarely that it can be shot or disabled.
During the sway of the French in Egypt, there
was a kachef at Denderach who had a great fancy
for shooting crocodiles. He was as familiar with
their places of resort as oui? poachers are with the
haunts of the deer and hare ; and he would sit fre
quently for a whole day, covered with palm-leaves
and marine-plants, to watch their approach. Alto
gether, he had killed some seven or eight very sizea
ble crocodiles, and arranged them around his house,
in a manner much resembling a battery of cannon ;
this trompe d'oeil was all the benefit he obtained from
his sport.
After a delightful sail of two hours, we landed in
front of the Pyramids of Sakkara. They are more
ancient, and therefore, more dilapidated than those
of Gizeh. Their form is irregular. The steps of
som.e are small ; but others have only ten colossal
stairs from their base to their summit. The earth
around them is strewed with bones. If you brush
away the sand with your foot, you find close to the
surface fragments of mummies, swathing clothes, fil
lets, little idols, vitrifications, and beetles. Beneath
this are immense catacombs where the inhabitants of
ancient Memphis repose, and for whom all this shore
of the Nile is the Necropolis.
There are, besides, catacombs of animals ; such as
sats, ibises, and lizards. Each of these was formerly a
god. They are neatly packed in their sacred swathing-
clothes, and hermetically sealed, like a boned-turkey

ro^ A^w

VISIT TO COLONEL SELVES.
*-^--*^ -^ jfiiicnearthern jar, and are placed with other divini
ties of different orders along the partition walls of
the general tomb. I took an ibis under one arm and
a cat under the other, which, from the style of their
envelopement, seemed to have been very considera
ble personages in their day, and seated myself with
my pair of gods in a cave covered with hieroglyph
ics ; these, in some places, were in wonderful pres
ervation, and, in others, horribly mutilated by trav
ellers. From the Pyramids we went to the palm-grove
of ancient Memphis, distant about one league. This
venerable ruin of Egypt could not have chosen a
more magnificent winding sheet. A few wrecks and
columns of the mighty dead remain, projecting their
marble angles irregularly through the surface of the
ground : and here rests the eternal genius of the ru
ins, the colossal statue of Ramases the Great —
known in our world as Sesostris — thrown from its
base and covering an area of thirty-six feet with its
mutilated fragments..
There is a memento of biblical history near this
statue, almost contemporary with the conqueror
whom the statue represents. It is a cave, called by
the Arabs, Joseph's prison, into which they aver the
son of Jacob was cast with the chief-butler and ba
ker ; and they point out the steps by which he as
cended when sent for to explain Pharaoh's dream.
It is always thus in the East ; bibhcal record and pa
gan tradition meet ; the two go side by side ; and
many times in evoking our own recollections we
have called up those of the Arab.
We returned by the same route as we came : i. e.
by the Nile, which is the only road that traverses

VISIT TO COLONEL SELVES. /^V^
Egypt from one end to the other. We stepped on
shore near the camp of Schoubra, and repaired to
the house of Col. Selves.
Dinner was waiting our arrival. The number of
guests was completed by a celebrated person, La
Contemporaine, who was travelling in Egypt and
had received princely hospitality from our generous
host and compatriot. She had been ill for some days :
and, being still too much indisposed to sit at table, de
sired that the dinner might be served in her apartment.
If she ate little, she talked much and well ; and we
lost nothing by her substitution of the one faculty for
the other.
The next day we began our preparation for the
pilgrimage to Mount Sinai ; and for this purpose we
had recourse to another compatriot, M. Linant, a
young Frenchman who had formerly accompanied
the Count de Forbin into Syria ; and who, infatuated
with the climate, the edifices, and the everything of
this poetic East, remained at Cairo, after fulfilling his
obligations to his illustrious travelling companion.
He now offered his services to us in negotiating
with the Arab conductors. The time had arrived
for an interview with these children of the Desert,
and he communicated our wishes iu the right quar
ter. The day following we were waited upon by a
deputation from the tribe of Oualeb-Sa'ide, one of
the most considerable of the tribes of the peninsula
of Mount Sinai. We first stipulated with the leader
to go to Alexandria for M. Taylor, and bring him to
Cairo, deferring for the present our agreement for
the journey to the Holy Land, and our return thence
to Suez. This first bargain was settled at the rate
of fifty piastres, or eighteen francs, for each drome
dary.

118 VISIT TO COLONEL SELVES.
I saw the Arabs with their beasts enter the court
of our hotel, and their appearance set me, for the
tenth time, seriously to thinking. Whenever I had
heard any one speak of travelling in the East, cam
els were referred to as the ordinary conveyance:
and whenever I thought ofthe creature he was pres-
Tent to my mind as described by Buffon, with two
humps on his back. I had thus, unconsciously almost,
familiarized myself with the image of this ideal ani
mal, and often fancied I was on his back in the natu
ral valley between his humps, which Nature seemed
to have placed especially for a saddle on this senti
mental quadruped. But since my arrival here, the
mistakes of my imagination had been disagreeably
rectified. I found that the camel with two humps
did not exist in this part of the world : and that the
camel and the dromedary of Egypt were identical —
saving and excepting the difference between a cart
horse and a racer. I found that my valley, in which
I anticipated so much comfort, was a mountain ; and
that on the top, and not at the foot thereof, my saddle
was to be placed, by which means my elevation
could not be less than ten feet from the ground, and
no mountain to lean against f Add to this delicacy
of position, a trot hard enough to disembowel a
butcher, and you have some idea of the poetry of ori
ental loconiotion.
Luckily, some eight or ten days must elapse be
fore I ascend that mountain ; and in the meantime I
can pursue my pleasures in Cairo.
Once more a Frenchman knocked at our door,
and we were carried off for the day. Clot-Bey, the
celebrated physician attached to the Pacha, to whom
he has rendered eminent service, and who had just

VISIT TO CLOT-BEY. 119
founded the hospital of Abouzabel, called to take M.
Taylor to visit that establishment, and afterwards
to entertain us at a soiree at his house a la Turque.
The Pacha had bestowed great attention to the
hospital of Abouzabel, for it was to be the nursery of
his young physicians. We saw here instances of all
the terrible maladies of the East, unknown or forgot
ten among us, and which we find only in the Bible ;
the elephantiasis, leprosy, enormous hydroceles — in
short, the Book of Job entire. Young Arab surgeons,
with quick, intelligent looks, did the honours ofthe
hospital with an alacrity which showed their desire
of pleasing their master. Clot-Bey, feeling that this
scene, however interesting to men of science, could
be for us an object of only rapid survey, took us
shortly from the wards to the gardens : they were
actual oases of lilac and orange-trees, where con
valescents could be cured by shade and coolness.
About two o'clock the weather proved threaten
ing, and Clot-Bey proposed that we should mount our
beasts and profit by the lessons they had learned
from the French, to make all speed in returning to
Cairo. The ride was accordingly accomplished at a
gallop and in less than an hour, although the distance
is two long leagues. For my own part, I made the
journey without being once thrown : and I began to
feel encouraged in the hope that since, at last, I
could keep my seat on an ass, I might expect here
after to be safe on the back of a camel.
Our dinner was a true Turkish repast, with the
exception of knives and forks which Clot-Bey con
ceded to us : it consisted of the pilau de rigueur,
boiled mutton, rice, fish, and pastries.
The dinner over, our host conducted us into the

120 VISIT TO CLOT-BEY.
saloon, where we took seats on an enormous divan,
and were served with coffee and pipes, with the ad
dition of a negro at our feet to empty, fill, and light
the latter. We were now fixed as comfortably as
possible ; Clot-Bey clapped his hands, and four mu
sicians entered,
I confess that my first movement was one of ter
ror. I recollected the musical soiree at the Vice-
Consul's, and dreaded a similar charivari. I cast a
scrutinizing glance at the instruments, and their con
struction was not of a nature to re-assure me. The
first was the memorable wide-mouthed drum with
which I had made acquaintance on my voyage to
Cairo ; the second was a violin with an iron-handle
resting between the legs of the performer, and the
other two were a kind of mandolin, with dispropor
tioned necks. The wretches had, also, a singer, con
cealed at first, but who soon made us sensible of his
presence. The concert commenced and promised to yield in
nothing to the one which had formerly been inflicted on
us, when suddenly our attention was arrested by the en
trance of a clown dressed in white. His dress was
shorter than that usually worn by the Arabs, and his
head was covered with a flexible beaver. He pre
ceded four females, whom we immediately recognis
ed as Almeys, They were the Taglionis of Cairo,
From that moment we paid little attention to the
music. The dancers wore an elegant and luxuriant cos
tume. On their heads they had tarbouches, richly
embroidered and covered with jewels, from beneath
which their hair escaped in long fine braids, orna
mented with Venetian sequins pierced at the edge,

VISIT TO CLOT-BEY. 121
and placed so near one another that they covered
the braids like scales. Some of these tresses fell
over the bust, but the greater part streamed behind,
veiling the shoulders with a glittering mantle of gold.
The body of the robe was in the form of a riding
habit, open in front, and coming together at the waist
with a graceful curve. From the waist to the feet
the robe was loose and flowing. The sleeves were
cut after the same fashion, tight and clinging at the
shoulders, widened at the elbow, opened at the fore
arm, and hung to the floor, A Turkish pantaloon,
fanciful in fold and form, left the foot naked, A cash
mere shawl tied negligently around the waist, with
the ends of unequal length faUing in front, completed
the costume, which, simple as it seems, is of immense
value. The tarbouch alone might be worth twenty
or thirty thousand francs.
These women had, also, the nails of their toes and
fingers dyed red with henna, and the edges of their
eye-lids blackened with hrol, which gives the eye a
remarkable brilliancy ; and their waists were more
supple and slender than any I have ever seen in Eu
rope. This unexpected apparition of dancers, their pic
turesque attire, and their poetical appellation, Al
meys, caused at once a most profound silence and at
tention on our parts, though Clot-Bey, accustomed to
the spectacle, quietly continued to smoke. Our chi
bouques fell from our mouths, and we clapped our
hands as we do in Paris on the entrance of a popular
actor. The Almeys, to acknowledge our politeness, form
ed a line and advanced towards us with measured
steps, gracefully balancing themselves to appropri-
11

122 VISIT TO CLOT-BEY,
ate music. When they came near, they pirouet
ted, turned their backs to us, and regained their
places. The two wings then advanced, and the
whole four crossed one another, forming ingenious
figures, without, however, being rapid or varied. Du
ring afl this time, they preserved in their movements
the simple and noble postures of antique statues.

CHAPTER VI.

the city of the CALIPHS.

One evening, while at dinner, we heard a great noise
of men and dromedaries. We put our noses to the
window, which opened on an enclosed court-yard,
and saw M, Taylor, Having left Alexandria on the
morning of the preceding day, he had traversed, with
the rapidity of an Arab courier, the forty-five leagues
of Desert intervening between the two cities.
His negotiation was finished, though with more
difficulty than he anticipated. Notwithstanding the
despatch he made, and the silence he observed,
the project transpired : England had anticipated
France, and the two Needles, for which M. Taylor
had undertaken his expedition, were promised to
Great Britain. Mahomet-Ah greatly desired to sat
isfy both nations, and wished for nothing more ar
dently than to place them on a friendly footing with
each other. The previous voyage of Baron Taylor,
and the studies he then made of the ancient monu
ments, were of use on this occasion : he visited Egypt
in 1828, and he claimed that his negotiation dated
from that period, and of course that he had actual pri
ority over his rivals. To conciliate all, he offered to
give up to England, in place of the two obelisks of
Luxor, the obelisk of Karnach, which is larger. Some

124 PREPARATIONS FOR THE DESERT,
objections were raised to this course, but they were
finally obviated ; and the two obelisks of Luxor, with
the Needle of Alexandria, were definitively granted
to France.
M, Taylor, therefore, returned delighted with his
success, and desired eagerly to continue his journey :
and, at his suggestion, the departure was fixed for the
following evening.
In the morning of this day, we repaired with our
Arabs to the Vice-Consul of France, M, Dantan, to
make our bargain before a suitable witness. We
first stipulated the number of men and beasts, and
then came to the main point — the price for the jour
ney — which, going and returning, would occupy a
little more than a month.
Bargaining is an Arab's element : cunning, obsti
nate, evasive, he pretends not to understand your ar
guments, or opposes them by assertions to which
your ignorance of places and customs forces you to
assent. Fearing always to ask too little, he greatly ex
aggerates his demand, and then his making an abate
ment of course has the appearance of his making a
sacrifice, while, in reality, he is receiving a double
compensation. The fellows made one statement in
the premises that was quite unanswerable : viz. that
the Peninsula of Mount Sinai was overrun by three
tribes, and that each agreed not to molest the others
while having travellers in charge ; and this neu
trality was paid for at a high rate from one to the
others ; now, they continued, although our price
seems high, it is in fact but a trifling sum over what
is paid for our free passage, — scarcely enough, in
deed, to defray the expense of the expedition. As
we could not disprove this last argument, we were

PREPARATIONS FOR THE DESERT. 125
forced to yield to it ; and the only concession we
could obtain was, that they should find their own
provisions for the journey, and not look to us for any
thing on the way. The dromedaries were to be at
our charge.
The bargain made, M. Dantan, who had been all
the while present, forewarned us that we must not
place too much confidence in the amicable relations
said to subsist between the tribe of Oualeb-Saide and
the others in the Peninsula ; but that this tribe was
brave and faithful, and, in case o( necessity, would aid
us in defending ourselves. M. Dantan advised us,
therefore, when making up our luggage, not to omit
powder and ball.
Our Arabs, who watched attentively M. Dantan's
discourse, but were too far off to hear, noted the
expression of our countenances ; and saw at once
that, whatever might be the purport of his remarks,
it was nothing to their advantage. Their first idea
was that we regretted our bargain, and were seeking
occasion to break it ; immediately one of them, nam
ed Bechara, who spoke a little French, came towards
us, and, as if not aware of interrupting our conversa
tion, asked us to take a look at the dromedaries. He
had assailed me in my vulnerable point, without know
ing it. He led me into the court-yard, and stopped
before the beasts, begging me to consider that there
¦were drome&djnes and dromedaries : that these, which
we were about to prove, were real haghins, light as
gazelles, strong as lions, gentle as lambs ; that each
one had his genealogy as well attested as the noblest
and most ancient of Arabian horses ; that we might
walk behind them in the Desert without seeing a trace
of their steps on the sand ; etc. etc.
11*

126 PREPARATIONS FOR THE DESERT.
I must confess that all these assertions were con
firmed by the appearance of the objects of his eulo-
gium. Their leanness was a downright miracle ;
their skins seemed to belong to animals of twice
their size and covered with their wrinkled folds a
sort of steel carcase, of which each bone and liga
ment was discernible. On the other hand, their
physiognomy was good, and the iron-ring passed
through their nostrils seemed a good substitute for
curb and bit ; and, on the whole, apart from their
ungainly size, I had no cause for serious complaint.
I began, too, to feel pity for these future companions
of our travels ; their proverbial staidness was written
on every line of their bodies, and my pity naturaUy
led me to doubt the perfect health of the poor beasts.
But I had scarcely given utterance to this suspicion,
when all the Arabs clamoured out together, and Mo
hammed joined them. Indeed, every thing that led me
to fear, was to them an evidence of security ; every
thing that seemed to me a defect, was exalted by my
interlocutors into a perfection. I saw I should be de
feated in every attempt at argument, and gave the
matter up : still, it did seem to me that our dromeda
ries were prodigiously large dromedaries.
Baron Taylor and Mayer joined me. It was high
time to buy our provisions, and the Arabs gave us a
list of what was necessary. As inconsiderable as it
may appear, we were forced to resort to all the
Bazaars in Cairo to complete it.
I will give the items, that an idea may be formed
of the simplicity of the habits of these wandering
people, who limit their wants, in travelling, to the
strict necessities of life :
Goat-skins, for water.

PREPARATIONS FOR THE DESERT. 127
Leather decanters to suspend at the saddle, so that
one can drink without stopping the caravans to open
the goat-skins.
Rice for three persons, going and returning : they
assured us that we should find rice at Sinai, but we
preferred making certain of it at Cairo.
Flour, for bread.
Beans, for the dromedaries.
Dates. Mich-mich ; this is the apricot-paste I spoke of,
which is dried in the sun and rolled up like a carpet.
It is very portable, as it takes no more room than a
valise ; and, when boiled in water, makes an excel
lent marmalade.
Tobacco, for presents to our own Arabs, as well
as to those whom we might happen to meet.
Wood, for culinary purposes.
Coffee, to counteract the effect ofthe violent per
spirations which we must expect to suffer.
Sugar, for a present at the Monastery.
A tent, to shelter us from the heat of the sun and
from the night air.
Finally, iron-pots to prepare our food ; earthen ves
sels not being able to sustain, for ten minutes, the trot
ofthe dromedaries.
This last item brought me back to my one idea :
among all the perfections of these real haghins, Be
chara had quite forgotten to enumerate their delicate
trot : and, to my mind, the fact was as little agreea
ble as the comparison was flattering, that we were
destined to play the part of the earthen-pots.
As we successively purchased these articles, Mo
hammed conveyed them to head-quarters, and by
three o'clock, we had finished the business. I forgot

128 PREPARATIONS FOR THE DESERT.
to state that we added wax.candles to our list, that
we might, if necessary, write or sketch after sun
down. We now discarded our babouches and marcoifs for
the long red boots made at Morocco, which are as
soft and clinging as silk stockings. In addition to
our turbans, our heads were sheltered by striped red
and yellow kerchiefs, the two corners of which, hang
ing over and shading the sides of our faces, were
ornamented with silver tassels. Thus accoutred, we
returned to oversee the packing of our purchases.
We were exhausted with fatigue, but nevertheless
determined to proceed that evening.
The packing was nearly finished when we arrived
at our hotel. The Arabs are very expert at this bu
siness. Every thing was rolled, corded, and strapped,
and two of the four dromedaries were loaded. M.
Msara, seeing that the rest of the operation could be
performed as well without our supervision as with it,
advised us to lose no time in procuring letters of
introduction from the Greek Monastery of Cairo,
which is a succursale to that cif Mount Sinai. The
advice was good, and we hastened to follow it ; but,
after passing two or three streets, we found our way
impeded by a nuptial procession. The bride was
closely enveloped in a great piece of silk ; four
eunuchs carried a canopy over her ; a multitude of
women, veiled like herself, followed her, making a
certain clucking noise peculiar to Arabian females,
which is done by striking the tongue against the roof
of the mouth. It is this manner that they express
joy on all happy occasions. This was an inter
lude to a more barbarous instrumental music; and,
when that intermitted, a dozen singers broke in with

PREPARATIONS FOR THE DESERT. 129
their discordant thunder. The procession, numerous
in itself, was augmented by such a crowd of follow
ers, that, by rising in our stirrups, we could not see
the end. We calculated that, at the rate they moved,
we should be obliged to wait an hour for a passage
way ; and, as we could not afford to lose so much
time, we turned back, leaving to Providence the care
of announcing us.
We found our Arabs and dromedaries ready ;
and nothing remained but to conclude the bargain.
This, on our part, was done by paying a specified
sum of earnest-money ; and, on the part ofthe Arabs,
by the delivery of hostages, who were to be left with
the Consul to answer for our safety. These hosta
ges, whose heads were to share the fortune of ours,
consisted of two warriors of the tribe with their
haghins : we remarked that our number was three,
and at least three Arabs ought to represent us ; but
our chief interposed that two of us were represented
by the two warriors, and the third by the two drom
edaries : and this answer, like the fellow's previous
arguments, we were forced to receive as conclusive ;
although the equivalent suggested for one of us was
not flattering by any means. We swallowed the hu
miliation, however ; and Messrs. Msara, Dantan, and
Dessap, who wished to be present at our departure,
gave us the accolade of adieu. Torches were then
lighted, and horses brought which we were to use
till our first halt ; for, unaccustomed to the gait ofthe
dromedaries, we were fearful of some accident if we
attempted to ride them through the narrow and wind
ing streets. This precaution was taken in conse
quence of Mohammed's advice ; and its wisdom and
kindness impressed me with a real friendship for him.

130 THE CITY OF THE CALIPHS.
Finally, at nine o'clock, the Arabs mounted their
dromedaries, and we our horses. We left our hotel
lighted by the torches of our guides, and passed
through Cairo, to the great admiration of the inhab-
tants, who, notwithstanding their usual apathy, were
drawn from their houses by the brilliancy and nov
elty of the scene.
We left the city by the Gate of Victory, which is
nearest to the Frank-quarter, and, after an hour's
ride, found ourselves near another city : a city of
the Dead, handsomer and richer than that of the
living : the Necropolis of the Caliphs, where the
lieutenants of Salah-Eddin and the descendants of
the Mameluke Beybars repose in tombs of marble
and porphyry by the side of the highest aristocracy
of Cairo. We had reserved the exploring of this
place for our first halt, and the hour could not have
been better chosen to visit the tombs.
Leaving our Arabs to pitch our tent and arrange
the encampment, we took four torch-bearers and set
out on foot for the funereal city.
After we had walked about two hundred paces,
the glare of our flambeaux fell on the walls of a vast
and splendid monument. We paused in front of it,
and knocked at the door. At the sound, so unusual
at such an hour, the hawks started from their sleep
among the arabesques of stone, and flew forth with
infernal screeches. Long bowlings answered the
birds, and it seemed, at first, that dogs and birds of
prey were the only living inhabitants of these sepul
chral abodes. But we soon heard human steps : our
Arabs exchanged some words with the individual ap
proaching, and the host of the dead appeared on the
threshold of this magnificent tomb.

THE CITY OF THE CALIPHS. 131
He was an old man, whose sobriety of speech was
perfectly Mussulmanic. When apprized of our mo
tive for disturbing him, he made a sign for us to en
ter, pointed out the diflferent parts of the edifice, and
then led us to the mortuary cave, the walls of which
are embellished with flowers in mosaic of exquisite
finish. The granite sarcophagus is in perfect pre
servation. We wished, however, to see more than one tomb.
The old man intimated by signs that he was at our
disposal, and we descended into the street. Here we
re-encountered the hawks which began their screech
ing anew, and whirled around so near our torches
as to mingle with their eddying smoke. At the same
time, hundreds of wandering dogs, that during the day
seek food in the streets of Cairo and at night a
shelter among the tombs, surrounded and followed us
with stentorian howling. Awakened by these cries,
which protested against life and light at this hour,
the Bedouin Arabs, — of that untamed race who think
themselves prisoners if the gates of a city are closed
upon them even while they sleep — appeared on the
steps of the mosques and the angles of the sepulchres,
and seemed, in their white winding-sheets, to be the
wrathful spirits of those whose final slumbers we had
come to disturb.
In the midst of this diabolical retinue, and surroun
ded by these flitting apparitions, we arrived at a re
tired spot where they pointed out to us the tombs of
the Djezam, a branch of the Arab tribe of Kohlan,
that established itself in Egypt at the time of the
Mussulman conquest. Two of the monuments tow
er proudly above the others ; they are the tombs
of men celebrated for their munificence and hos-

132 THE CITY OF THE CALIPHS.
pitality : one, named Tharif, had daily at his table a
thousand guests whom his slaves brought in from the
different gates of the city ; the other, Muhenna, not
having proper fuel at hand, kindled a fire, one day, of
some rich booty just taken from the enemy, in order
to prepare food for travellers who unexpectedly en
tered his tent. The princely hospitality which these
men practised during their lives, is reciprocated by
posterity to their illustrious remains, and they repose
in sepulchres as vast and splendid as palaces.
Leaving these, we visited yet andher monument,
more ancient than any we had seen. The walls
are cracked in every part, and in many places are
qmte open. Beneath one of these fissures is a sen
tence inscribed by a Persian poet, which Moham
med translated thus :
"Each crevice of this ancient edifice is a half-
opened mouth that laughs at the fleeting pomp of
royal abodes."
After spending two hours in this city of the Dead,
we arrived, in returning, at the monument we first
encountered: we were still piloted by the hawks,
accompanied by the dogs, and surrounded by the
phantoms ; but, as if this retinue were detained with
in the limits of the sepulchral city by some invisible
and superior power, all paused at the gate which
opened on the plain of the Uving. We took leave
of them without regret, and returned to our encamp
ment. For a time, we heard the cries of the hawks
and the howling of the dogs ; but reassured at last
by night and silence, the former returned to their
marble eyries, and the latter to their granite kennels ;
every murmur ceased ; nothing further disturbed the
echoes of the ancient city, which we, for a moment,
had roused from its eternal sleep.

BIVOUAC WITH THE ARABS. 133
We found our Arabs seated in a circle around a
fire they had kindled, and telling stories. Behind
them, their camels, lying down and scarcely distin
guishable from the sand which in colour they resem
bled, formed a second circle of much larger extent.
Our tent was pitched at one side. This was a mo
ment to survey in mass the troop that was to accom
pany our journey; and, in detail, the men to whom
we had confided our lives.
The chief, or sheik, was named Toualeb : he was
small, lean, and muscular; and had a homely, though
mild and affable expression of face. He spoke little
and briefly. He strongly accentuated his words, and
his rapid glances kept a continual watch over the
band. During our journey, we had more than one
occasion to appreciate the keenness of his vision, and
the energy of his character.
On his left, sat Bechara, with whom I had already
made acquaintance in the court-yard of the hotel.
His embonpoint did not exceed that of his chief; but
in the same proportion as the chief was grave and
taciturn, was Bechara gay and voluble. Seated on
his camel, he would sing the live-long day ; and as
soon as evening arrived, he remorselessly inflicted
his stories on his companions until they were all
fast asleep : he would then soliloquize a few mo
ments, and go to sleep himself. This exhaustless lo
quacity, so precious in a long journey, yet only in a
long journey endurable, made Bechara the idol of
his comrades. And if Toualeb was chief during the
day, the sceptre passed without controversy to Be
chara when the sun was down.
On the other side of Toualeb, was the brother-in
arms, the friend, the confidant of Bechara. He was
12

134 BIVOUAC WITH THE ARABS,
a herculean Arab, in favour with his chief, and re
spected by the company, because he was the strong
est of their number. When a cloud rested on Tou-
aleb's brow, he was always thrust forward to dispel
it : he was the last to sink, at night, under the ano
dyne of Bechara's stories ; and, on the whole, in him
the extremes of Toualeb and Bechara may be said
to have met.
The only one after these three who deserves a
particular notice was Abdallah, our cook. He en
tered our service on the recommendation of M, Msa
ra, after assuring us that he had learned his art un
der the best masters in Cairo, If his story were true,
he was their living condemnation. It is impossible
to imagine viler mixtures than this poisoner prepared
for us. Mohammed, our old friend, accompanied us
in this journey ; but him I have already introduced
to the reader.
Of the remainder, intellectually, I have nothing to
say : physically, they were true children of the Des
ert, small, slender, and supple as serpents ; and thin
and abstemious as the camels they bestrode.
I threw myself on my carpet, perfectly assured
of the good-faith of our guides and the security of
our journey. We were eighteen men in all ; well
armed ; and formed quite a respectable caravan.
My only remaining subject of disquietude was the
everlasting bugbear of the hump on my dromedary
— on which I faithfully believed I should not be able
to maintain my seat for five minutes, especially with
out stirrups. However, I at length fell asleep.
I arose at day-break, and quietly left the tent with
the selfish purpose of choosing the smallest camel.
The Arabs were already up and saddling the beasts.

MOUNTING TIIE DROMEDARIES. 135
I made a sign to Bechara, with whom I desired to
be on good terms, and asked him to conduct me to
my animal. They were all three lying by the side
of one another with their necks stretched out like
anacondas, and I could not possibly judge of their
height while in this position, I went around to ex
amine them more closely, when Bechara told me not
to go too near their heads.
I asked him if there was danger in so doing, and
if their characters belied the languid and timid air
which formed the pecuhar charm of their physiogno
mies. He answered that he had seen dromedaries, with
out notice or provocation, seize the arm or leg of a
man and break it like a pipe-stem : one of his com*
panions, whom he pointed out to me, had been the
victim of such a freak on a previous excursion ; and
some days before our departure from Cairo an hon
est Turk, who had no suspicion of danger, was buy
ing the rolled marmalade in a bazaar, when a drome
dary seized him by the turban, lifted him from the
ground, and the man fell senseless. People hasten
ed to his assistance^ but it was immediately perceiv
ed that the top of his head, brain, and skull, remain
ed in his turban. The dromedaries seem to do these
things without malice in those rare fits of good or bad
humour, which for a moment disturb the equilibrium
of their happy temperaments.
Never had Bechara's words been more faithfully
attended to : never had a discourse been more indel
ibly engraved on the memory of a listener. I pro
ved my high estimate of his advice by a quick wheel
to the right, and approached by the tail the drome-

136 MOUNTING THE DROMEDARIES.
dary which seemed to be a very little the smallest of
the three.
He was lying listlessly with his legs drawn under
his body ; and the saddle placed on his back in this
position was about the same height from the ground
as the back of a good-sized horse. I resolved to
make my essay, in presence of my friend Bechara,
before the others made their appearance. Accord
ingly, as if it were a matter of little concern, I began
to hum a tune, caught the ropes that hung from the
saddle, and, with three or four classical leaps, suc
ceeded in striding my dreaded mountain, and found
myself a cheval. 1 was scarcely established when
my beast, who understood his vocation of dromeda
ry quite as well as I did mine of rider, began brutal
ly to lift himself on his hind-legs : this sudden move
ment placed my nose eight inches lower than my
knees, and caused a violent blow on my breast from
the trusquin of the saddle — which is a raised breast
work, a foot high and terminates in a wooden ball
ornamented with brass. Directly, the fore-legs were
raised after the manner, and with the suddenness, of
their hind neighbours; and the rear elevation of the
saddle inflicted the same blow on my spine, inclu
ding some usury, as I had just received from the
pommel. Bechara, who had not taken his eyes from me du
ring my practice in vaulting, now called my attention
to the great advantage of these two prominences on
the saddle, without which 1 should inevitably have
fallen forward or backward. He made this judicious
remark with an air that intimated I did not sufficient
ly appreciate the good qualities of my seat. From
that time I looked on him as a malicious jester ; and

MOUNTING THE DROMEDARIES. 137
when he proposed to me to dismount, I replied with
some tartness that I should descend when I thought
proper, and the matter was no affair of his. Becha
ra, perceiving from my manner that I was offended,
undertook to conciliate me by suggesting that from
my position I could take a fine view of the land
scape. And, in truth, I found that my vision embraced an
immense extent of country. As my dromedary had
lain, so he arose, with his head to the North and his
tail to the South, On my right, therefore, were the
Tombs of the Caliphs, backed by the sterile moun
tains of Mokkatan, their summits in sun-shine and
their bases in shade ; in front, the battle-field of He
liopolis ; on my left, Cairo, her minarets sparkling in
the first rays of the rising sun. This magnificent
viewj resting on the Nile, induced me to examine the
opposite semi-circle of the horizon by turning about.
I drew the halter of my dromedary to gain the de
sired position, but he did not seem to understand my
wishes. I drew harder, and he raised his head : I
pulled once again, and with all my strength; the
creature started right forward at a brisk walk,, turn
ing, neither to the right hand nor to the left. Find
ing that I was going direct to Damietta without the
power to help myself, I was forced to call Bechara
to my assistance. He came at once, without any
¦appearance of resentment, and stopped the animal ;
then, by off'ering him some beans in the palm of his
hand, he made him turn with the docility of an in
structed ass.. I had now before me the other half of
the landscape, with the detail of which my readers
are already familiar ; and one description suffiices, al
though it can never be seen too often.
12*

138 JOURNEY COMMENCED.
I had just finished my survey, when the curtain of
our tent was raised, and Mayer made his appearance.
I pretended not to see him, but assumed an air of
great indiflTerence about my position ; yet, watching
him with a corner of an eye, I easily saw that I was
an object of envy, if not of admiration, and that he
would have given something to be in my place.
Luckily for him, a circumstance that embarrassed
me operated to his advantage. His dromedary, see
ing the others on their legs, rose from the force of
example. The Arabs were about to make him kneel
again for Mayer to mount ; but he, understanding
himself, spied the suspended ropes, and made signs
to leave the animal alone. For a sailor to climb was
no task at all ; he seized the cords, and was on the
saddle in a trice, amid the applause of the company.
As for Baron Taylor, his former travels in Egypt had
made him an accomplished cavalier.
Every one was now ready but Bechara, who was
searching in the sand for something he had lost. One
of the Arabs took the lead, to show us the proper
course of our journey, and instantly the whole cara
van set forth on a trot. Heaven preserve me from
the trot of a dromedary 1
However, I was not so entirely occupied with my
own concerns, as to be unaware that Bechara's ani
mal abandoned his master, and took his station in the
cavalcade : but Bechara seemed not concerned at
this. He continued looking in the sand for some
time ; at length, either having found what he sought,
or fearful that we should get too much in advance,
he galloped after us, and, overtaking his dromeda
ry, took advantage of the instant that its left leg
was raised, to place one foot on its hoof, the other

THE MOKKATAN MOUNTAINS. 139
on its knee, whence he sprang nimbly to its neck,
and then easily gained the saddle : all this was done
so rapidly, that I could not distinctly follow his mo
tions with my eye. I was thunder-struck.
Bechara turned to me with as much nonchalance
as if he had not just performed a prodigious feat of
skill ; and, seeing me holding my saddle with both
hands, to diminish somewhat the violence of my jolt
ing, he gave me some instructions about riding. His
remarks recalled to my mind the fact of his assuring
us, when bepraising his camels in the court-yard,
that the saddles were perfectly well stuffed ; where
as, the first thing I perceived was, that my seat was
bare, hard wood, Bechara replied that he had not
deceived me, and that, at our first halt, he would
show me my saddle was well stuffed ; it was true,
the stuffing was under the wood ; but, he added, it
was far more important, in such a journey as we had
undertaken, to preserve the hide of the camel than
the skin of his rider. This was the true Arab reason
ing, and, as usual, I had nothing to offer in reply.
In half an hour we arrived at the foot of Mokka
tan. This granite range, scorched by the sun, is. en
tirely bare. The only way of ascending it, is by
means of a narrow path hewn in the rock, just wide
enough for a loaded camel to pass. We were there
fore obliged to go in a single file, — the Arab who had
acted as our guide leading the way. This ascent
gave us a little respite, our dromedaries being obliged
to walk up the narrow defile.
We continued this route for nearly an hour and a
half, when we found ourselves at the top of the moun
tain. The summit afforded an occasional table-land,
surrounded by ridges of rock, where, for a moment.

140 THE DESERT;.
we lost sight of the western horizon, which, however,
would re-appear again at intervals. Descending a
hill, we now ceased to see the houses of Cairo ; then
its highest minarets disappeared ; for a time the tops
of the Pyramids shone like the sharpened peaks of
another chain of hills ; finafly they too were lost, and
we found ourselves on the eastern declivity of the
mountain. Nothing was now visible in our front but an end
less plain, — a sea of sand, which commences at the
base of Mokkatan, stretches out to the horizon, and
there becomes confounded with the sky. The gene
ral complexion of this moving expanse is the reddish
colour of a Hon's skin. Nitrous bands occasionally
striped it with white, Hke the garments of our Arabs.
I had before seen arid regions, but never one so ex
tensive. Another half hour finished our descent, and brought
us in view of some ruins, which we at first mistook
for an ancient city ; but perceiving that the ground
was strewn with columns only, we scrutinized more
closely, and found the whole to be trunks of trees.
Our Arabs, being interrogated, told us that we were
in the midst of a forest of petrified palms ;. this phe
nomenon seemed worthy of a further investigation,
and as we were now at the foot ofthe mountain, and
the time for our mid-day halt had arrived, we signified
to Toualeb that we wished to stop. The Arabs slip
ped from their dromedaries ; and ours, divining what
was to happen, knelt without orders. Their manner
of halting is the counterpart of their starting ; they
begin with their fore-legs. This time I was on my
guard, and clung so well to my saddle that I felt no
thing but the shock, Mayer, not having been fore-

THE DESERT. 141
warned, received in his breast and back the initiatory
blows. The ground was covered with the trunks of palm-
trees ; it seemed as if an entire forest had been pet
rified while standing, and that the simoom, sweeping
the naked sides of the Mokkatan, uprooted the trees
of stone, which had broken as they fell. To what
cause can we attribute this wonder? From what
cataclysm date this phenomenon? It is impossible to
say. But this we know : for more than half a league
we traversed these strange ruins, which, from their
prostrate and truncated columns, might at first sight
be readily mistaken for some unknown Palmyra,
We returned to our tent, and found our Arabs
lying in the shade of their loaded camels. Abdallah
now entered upon his duties, and prepared our din
ner. It consisted of rice boiled in water, and wheaten
cakes as thin as a wafer, baked on heated stones ;
they were soft, raw, elastic. I judged of the man
by this specimen, and condemned him from that
moment. We made our dinner on a few dates and
a piece of our apricot-paste, which we cut off the
roll. Mayer was so fatigued with holding himself on
his dromedary, that he could eat nothing. Our Arabs
seemed to partake of the nature of djinns, and feed
upon air and dew, for I had not seen them swallow a
grain of maize since our departure from Cairo.
We slept for nearly two hours : then, as the great
est heat of the sun had abated, the Arabs awakened
us ; and while they were folding up our tent, we
remounted our haghins and prepared to make, that
very evening, our first halt in the Desert.

CHAPTER VII.

THE DESERT.

Although the intensest heat of the day was past,
the air was still consuming to us Europeans. We
moved on a trot, held our heads down, and from
time to time were obliged to close our eyes to pro
tect them against the scorching reflection of the sun
from the sand.
We had now left behind us every vestige of the
petrified forest. I began to get accustomed to the
trot of my beast, as one does to the rolling of a ves
sel. Bechara jogged along by my side, humming a
pensive and monotonous Arab song ; and this, com
bined with the heavy air, and the burning dust, to
which I bowed my head, began to make me drowsy.
Suddenly my dromedary gave a start which almost
dismounted me: I looked, mechanically, around for
the cause, and found he had struck upon the carcase
of a camel, half devoured by carniverous beasts. I
now discovered, too, that we were, in our march, fol
lowing a white line extending quite to the horizon
and formed of bleaching bones.
This extraordinary circumstance, it may well be
supposed, aroused all my attention. I called to Be
chara, who, however, did not wait for my question,

the desert. 143
for he at once read my desire in my obvious aston
ishment. " The dromedary," said he, coming to my side,
and commencing his story without preface, " is not
so troublesome and importunate an animal as the
horse. He continues his course without stopping,
without eating, without drinking ; nothing about him
betrays sickness, hunger, or exhaustion. The Arab,
who can hear from such a distance the roar of a lion,
the neigh of a horse, or the noise of men, hears noth
ing from his haghin, but its quickened or lengthened
respiration ; it never utters a complaint or a groan.
But when nature is vanquished by suffering ; when
privations have exhausted its strength ; when life is
ebbing, the dromedary kneels down, stretches out its
neck, and closes its eyes. Its master then knows that
all is over. He dismounts, and without an attempt
to make it rise — for he knows the honesty of its na
ture, and never suspects it of deception or laziness —
he removes the saddle, _places it on the back of an
other dromedary and departs, abandoning the one
that is no longer able to accompany him. When
night approaches, the jackals and hyenas, attracted
by the scent, come up and attack the poor animal till
nothing is left but the skeleton.
" We are now on the high-way from Cairo to
Mecca ; twice a-year the caravans go and return by
this route ; and these bones, so numerous and so con
stantly replenished, that the tempests of the Desert
can never entirely disperse them ; these bones which,
without a guide, would lead you to the oases, the
wells and fountains, where the Arab finds shade and
water, and would end by conducting you to the Tomb

144 the desert.
of the Prophet ; these bones are those of dromeda
ries which perish in the Desert.
" If you look attentively, you will see some bones
smaller in size, and of a different conformation.
These, too, are the wrecks of wearied bodies, that
have found repose before they reached the goal.
They are the bones of believers who desire to obey
the Prophet's command, that all the Faithful shall
once in their lives perform this holy journey ; and
who, having been too long deterred from underta
king it by cares or pleasures, commence their pil
grimage so late on earth that they are obliged to fin
ish it in heaven.
" Add to these some stupid Turk or bloated Eu
nuch, who, sleeping when he ought to have had his
eyes open, has fallen and broken his neck ; give the
plague its share, which often decimates a caravan,
and the simoom, which often destroys one, and you
will readily see that these funereal guide-posts are
planted with sufficient frequency to preserve the road
in good order, and to point out to the children the
route pursued by their fathers.
" However," continued Bechara, whose thoughts,
naturally cheerful, yet took their hue from the subject
on which they were fixed, "all the bones are not
here. Sometimes the skeletons of a dromedary and
his rider are found five or six leagues to the right or
left of the road. In the month of May, or June, that
is, in the hottest season of the year, the dromedary
is sometimes attacked with a sort of madness. He
will then quit the caravan on a gallop and rush
straight forward. It is impossible to stop him with
the bridle ; and nothing can be done but to let him
run his course. He will frequently return after a

THE DESERT. 145
time, and take the place he left in the caravan ; but
if he continue furious, and his rider finds that he is lo
sing sight of his comrades, who, once lost, can never
be regained, he must cut his throat with a poignard,
or shoot him through the head with a pistol, and then
return on foot, at his best speed ; for the hyenas and
jackals are as ready to attack men as beasts, when
thus defenceless. And as the man, under such cir
cumstances, is often unable to escape, his skeleton
is frequently found near the carcass of his camel,"
I hstened to Bechara's long harangue with my eyes
fixed on the road extending indefinitely in our front :
and the multitude of bones with which it was strew
ed, fully corroborated his dismal recital. Some
of the skeletons were old, fast crumbling to powder
and mingling with the sand : others, more recently
exposed, were as polished and hard as ivory; and
others again, having pieces of dried flesh yet adher
ing to them, belonged to those who had but lately lain
down in the Desert to die,
I confess, that, when I reflected on my own case,
should I break my neck in falling from my drome
dary, a thing not only possible, but which had nearly
occurred within the hour; should I be suffocated by
the simoom as many thousands had been ; or, which
was quite supposable, should I die from sickness : the
thought, I say, that I should then be left on the road
to feed hyenas and jackals for a night, and to point
out to travellers the way to Mecca for an age, was
anything but agreeable to my mind.
This naturally brought Paris to my recollection :
my httle chamber, so warm in winter and so cool in
summer ; my friends who were leading their custo
mary and pleasant life in the grand Capital ; I thought
13

146 THE DESERT.
of these that I had left, to listen, on a dromedary's
back, to the fantastical stories of an Arab. I asked
myself what folly possessed me, what I hoped to do,
what I expected to obtain ? As I propounded these
questions, I raised my head ; my eyes wander
ed over the expanse of sand, the red and glowing
horizon, the caravan of long-necked camels, carrying
our Arabs in their picturesque costume ; all this
strange and primitive world, the counterpart of
which is found only in the Bible, and which seemed
to have just come from the hand of God, was before
me ; and I felt that, after all, the spectacle and the
associations were worth the sacrifice of leaving the
mud of Paris, crossing the sea, and taking the risk
of leaving a few additional bones on the bosom of
the Desert,
The rapid succession of such conflicting thoughts,
in separating the mind from the body, had delivered
the latter from some of its troubles. I was now as
much at my ease on my dromedary as ifl had come
into the world upon it ; and Bechara, who watched
my progress in this sort of horsemanship, overwhelm
ed me with compUments. The other Arabs, less lo
quacious, shut their hands in such a way that the
thumb projected above the fingers, and stretching
out the arm horizontally, said to me, " ta'ib ! tdib .'"
which is the height of praise, and corresponds to our
superlative tres bien.
Under an air of indifference, these men kept an un
ceasing watch over our least motion. Every change
of position, every expression of facej every gesture,
however .slight ; all were noted by them, and com
municated to each other immediately in a low voice,
by a motion of the hand, or a glance of the eye.

THE DESERT. 147
Their powers of perception and delineation are as
tonishing. When they have once seen a man, they
take his description ; and I am assured that, on
returning to their tribe, they draw so faithful a
picture of the traveller, that, for a long time after,
the hearers will inevitably recognise the man should
they chance to meet him.
We continued our journey ; Bechara singing, and
I dreaming. During one ofthe intervals when the
sun was hidden behind the Mokkatan mountains, I
raised my head, and saw a black point in the hori
zon. This was " the Tree of the Desert ;" the land
mark which divides, equally, the route from Cairo to
Suez. It is a sycamore, standing like an island in the
midst of the ocean : the eye vainly endeavours to
discover a companion for it. Who planted it thus
equi-distantly from each city ? No one knows. Our
Arabs — their fathers — their forefathers — the an
cestors of their forefathers, have always seen and
welcomed it there. They say that Mahomet once
reposed on that spot, without any shelter, after which
he cast a seed into the sand, and commanded it to
grow. A small monument, badly built, and worse
preserved, stands at the foot of this sycamore; it cov
ers the bones of a worthy Mussulman whose name
was forgotten, but whose sanctity was remembered
by our Arabs.
As soon as our guide saw this tree in the distance,
he put his dromedary on a gallop, and ours followed
with a rapidity which would have shamed the best
race-horse. This gait, being easier than the trot,
pleased me infinitely more ; so I urged on my hag
hin, which was young and vigorous, and arrived

148 THE DESERT.
second at the spot. Then, without waiting for the
animal to kneel, I swung myself, by my left arm,
from the pommel of the saddle, and dropped easily
to the ground.
The almost coolness which the shade of this tree
afforded, was indescribably delicious : and to render
our happiness perfect, we determined to take a draught
of water from the goat-skins, the decanters at our
saddle-bows having been long exhausted: our tongues
literally clave to the roofs of our mouths. A skin
was untied and brought to me. I could feel, through
the hide, that the water was of the same temperature
as the air ; I did not, however, the less readily car
ry it to my lips, and take a large mouthful : but I
spit it out more eagerly than I took it in : faugh !
I never tasted anything like it. In one day it
had become rancid, corrupted, fetid. Bechara,
seeing my plight, came to me, I handed him the
skin, without saying a word, so engaged was I in
expectorating to the very last drop, this abominable
liquid. He was a connoisseur of water, an experi
enced taster; he could scent a well or a fountain
farther and quicker than his camel : each one, there
fore, distrusting my taste and relying on his, waited
in silence for his decision. He began by smelling
the skin ; he made a significant motion with his head
and thrust out his nether lip — as much as to say,
there certainly was some ground for suspicion : he
then took a mouthful, held it an instant between his
lips and his palate, and ejected it with no equivo
cal rapidity. FuU and entire justice was rendered
to my judgement. It appeared that the skins were
too new ; and this fact, together with the heat and
motion, combined to spoil the water in an unusually

THE DESERT. 149
short time. From this moment, our fate was decid
ed : we were ten-fold more thirsty than before. Be
chara, with his usual consolatory power, assured us
that we should find excellent water at Suez on the
following evening.
This was not all. We supposed that we had reach
ed our place for encampment : but Toualeb decided
otherwise. After a half hour's repose, we were oblig
ed to remount our camels ; they arose the moment
they felt us in the saddles, showing that they, less
simple than ourselves, had never taken this show ofa
halt in earnest. As for our Arabs, they still neither
ate nor drank which was incomprehensible.
At the end of two hours, during which we trav
elled nearly four French leagues, Toualeb made
a clucking noise, which the camels at once under
stood as a signal to halt and kneel. We alighted,
very much fatigued with our ride, and very much
provoked at having no water to drink at the end of
it. Our Arabs appeared to partake ofour iU-humour,
for they were silent and sad, Bechara was the only
one who preserved the least appearance of gayety.
In a few moments our tent was pitched, and our
carpets unrolled, I placed my drawing-paper on the
sand, it having become completely wet in my girdle ;
and in deep despondency prayed that for us, unwor
thy as we were, the miracle of Hagar in the wilder
ness might be renewed,
Abdallah, rolling up his sleeves with great impor
tance, now began to prepare our supper. It consist
ed of the same articles as I have before described.
Our Arabs assisted him, splitting his wood as fine as
matches with their poignards, aiding with their breath
to light the fire, picking over his rice, and pouring
13*

150 THE DESERT.
the cakes on the burning embers. Near them were
Bechara and Mohammed, busy in disinfecting the
water by drawing it off from the top, so that the air
might purify it. I recollected that red-hot coals were
a powerful corrective, and offered my assistance to
our chemists, who, seeing me about to employ means
unknown to them, lost all interest in their own ex
periments, and yielded to me, I placed a part of
Abdallah's fire into a vessel of the water; it was
then filtered through a cloth ; and Bechara, our ap
proved taster, made a new trial. This time his re
port was more encouraging : the water was drinka
ble. The news drew Mayer from his carpet, where
he was endeavouring to go to sleep without supper,
lest eating should increase his thirst.
The tent was lighted up, Abdallah brought the
rice in a wooden bowl ; we squatted around it like
tailors, and endeavoured to eat his pilau and a little
of his bread. But we were not yet so far gone
as to endure Abdallah's cooking : we told him to
remove his dishes as quickly as possible, and bring
us dates and coffee. At this instant, Mohammed ap
proached with a patronising air as if he had a favour _
to ask.
" Well, Mohammed," said I, " what is it ?"
" The Arabs are very sad,"
" And why are they sad ?"
" Because they are hungry."
" Well, if they are hungry, let them eat,"
" They desire nothing more, but they have nothing
to eat."
"Is it possible! Have not they provided them
selves with food? it was in the contract,"
" It was in the contract ; but as it is only two

THE DESERT. 151
days' journey from Cairo to Suez, they thought they
might, by squeezing their stomachs, do without eating
on the road."
" And they find they cannot, eh ?"
" They can, but — they are sad."
" I believe you ; they ought to be. So, they have
eaten nothing since yesterday?"
" They have eaten a few beans with the camels."
" Well, tell Abdallah to make something for their
supper at once."
" That is not necessary. If you will give ihem the
remainder of your rice and cakes, they will be satis
fied." " What ! the remains of three for fifteen ?"
" Oh, if they had breakfasted to-day, they would
makes three good meals of what is here."
M. Taylor could not help saying to them laughing
ly, " take it my good friends, and hope for the mira
cle of the loaves and fishes."
Mohammed returned to the circle of Arabs, who
pretended not to be listening, and made a sign that
their request was granted. In a moment, cheerful
ness was apparent in every countenance, and each
one prepared to take his share of the splendid repast
afforded by our munificence.
Two circles were now formed. The first consist
ed of Toualeb, Bechara, Araballah, Mohammed, and
Abdallah. These all, at the feast, had equal rank :
Toualeb as chief, Bechara as story-teller, Araballah
as warrior, .Mohammed as interpreter, and Abdallah
as cook. The second circle was composed of the
other twelve Arabs, who, occupying a less elevated
degree in the social scale, were to eat last, and to
stretch their hands over their superiors for the where-

152 THE DESERT.
withal, Mohammed gave the signal for commen
cing, by taking a pinch of rice with his thumb and
four fingers ; Toualeb and the whole first rank fol
lowed the example successively, and in perfect or
der. The second rank then rose, fished up their
pinches, and retired to wait their turn for renewing the
evolutron. The provisions being shortly despatched,
Bechara arose, and in behalf of the band thanked us,
and asked our names, that he and his companions
might preserve them in their hearts, in commemora
tion of our generosity. We told him our names, and
added two dates per man to our former largess, that
they might not merely keep our names in their hearts,
but transmit them to posterity.
Our Arabs, however, had pledged themselves to a
task, with more zeal than forethought. The articu
lation of three European names was a serious busi
ness for their oriental weasands ; and, in their at
tempts to pronounce them, they soon convinced us
that, so far from transmitting them to their Ishmaeli-
tish posterity, they would never be able to apprize
our own most intimate friends who it was that had
treated them with such distinguished liberality.
Indeed, so foreign to their very natures is any
thing like intellectual effort, they very soon gave up
the attempt to acquire our names ; but they begged
us to allow them (as a substitute for their grateful in
tentions,) to christen us with Arabian names, which,
for mutual convenience, we would keep during the
journey. We saw no objection to this, and gave our
assent. They proceeded to the matter at once.
M. Taylor, on account of his relative position and
his age, (he being somewhat our senior,) was called
Ibrahim-Bey ; which means Abraham, the chief.

THE DESERT. 153
Mayer, whose appearance, owing to the thinness, of
his body and colour of his face, bore some resem
blance to an Arab of our escort, was complimented
with the name of Hassan ; and I, in consideration of
my precocity in acquiring the language of the coun
try, my boldness in mounting my haghin, and my
everlasting occupation of writing and sketching, was
gratified with the appellation of Ismael, to which
they added, as a climax to the comphment, the word
Effendi, or the sage.
This being done to the satisfaction of all, Bechara
folded his hands across his breast, wished us a good
night, and prayed Mahomet to preserve us from a
visit from Salem.
As I was on the watch for every thing that could
add to the picturesque character of our journey, I at
once demanded who this Salem might be, Moham
med answered that he was an Arab robber, renown
ed throughout the country for his courage and cun
ning ; and who, in the very spot where we were now
encamped, had performed a most astonishing feat.
This was enough to excite our curiosity : and, al
though extremely fatigued, we thought we could keep
awake to listen to Bechara's stories. We therefore
seated ourselves among the Arabs, snpplied them
with tobacco, lighted our pipes, and, with Moham
med's aid, Bechara began his narration — half French,
half Arabic — which (in the two tongues) would have
been unintelligible, had not his gestures explained it
to his companions, and our interpreter rendered the
obscure passages to us.
Salem, then, was an Arab ; a humble son of a
wandering tribe, who, in his childhood, manifested a
strong predilection and a great talent for thieving.

154 THE DESERT.
This propensity was encouraged by his parents, who
saw the advantage that would accrue to his after
life, if his present efforts were well directed. Salem,
thus stimulated, was taught to respect the property
of his own tribe and its allies, and to exercise his
budding faculties on those with whom he was at en
mity. He was supple as a serpent ; active as a pan
ther ; light as a gazelle. He could glide under a tent
without moving its curtains or grating the sand ; leap
at a bound a torrent fifteen feet in breadth ; and out
run the trot of a dromedary.
His various abilities were rapidly developed. In
stead of attacking an isolated tent or an imprudent
traveller by night, he assembled the young men of
his tribe, who recognised him as their cTiief, and un
dertook the most important expeditions.
Sometimes he would spread a report that a richly
freighted caravan was to pass ; and when the war
riors of the diflferent tribes were assembled at the
point indicated, he would assail their tents where only
old men and children remained, and carry off their
provisions and cattle.
At other times, when a caravan was in reality to
pass, he would send an Arab to the tribes on the look
out for it, to tell them that their encampments were
attacked : the warriors would of course instantly re
turn to their tents ; while Salem, left sole master of
the Desert, would pillage the caravan without mo
lestation. These bold and frequent depredations reached the
ear of the Bey of Suez. Suez is the entrepot of
India — the door of Arabia. Already half ruined by
the discovery of the passage of the Cape of Good
Hope, it is only at long intervals that caravans visit

THE DESERT. 155
it. The Bey was therefore seriously disturbed by
the success of Salem, and he gave strict orders that
the brigand should be taken. A whole year passed,
however, in fruitless attempts to obey this mandate :
and that, not because Salem concealed himself; on
the contrary, his ravages were daily increasing ; but
he always managed to slip through the fingers of his
pursuers with a dexterity and boldness that irritated
the Bey almost to madness. He then resolved to go
himself in search of the robber, and he swore never
to return to Suez, unless he brought Salem a prisoner
with him.
He accordingly encamped on the route from Suez
to Cairo, (on the precise spot, as it happened, where
we were now halting ;) and, surrounded by his most
faithful troops, guarded by the most vigilant sentinels,
his swiftest steed saddled and ready for instant pur
suit, — he ungirded his sabre, took off his machallah,
placed his purse under his pillow, threw himself on
his carpet, offered up his prayers to Mahomet, and
fell asleep in fufl assurance of the protection of Allah
and his Prophet.
The next morning, at day-break, the Bey arose.
The night had passed tranquilly. No alarm had
troubled the camp ; every man was at his post ; eve
ry thing was in its place  except the purse, mach
allah, and sabre of the Bey 1
The Bey clapped his hands twice, and his confi
dential slave appeared : but he immediately darted
back in astonishment — at the sight of his master !
He saw him leave his tent before day on horseback,
and had not seen him return.
This gave the Bey a new alarm : peradventure his
favourite horse had followed his sabre, purse and

156 THE DESERT.
machallah! The slave ran to the encampment of
the horses to ascertain. The groom told him that
the Bey clapped his hands three times, which was
the concerted signal, that he took the horse to his
tent, that the Bey mounted at once and rode off to
the Desert.
For an instant the Bey seemed determined to de
capitate the slave, the sentinel, and the groom ; but
he reflected that this would not bring back his lost
property, and that since he had been himself caught
napping, it was no matter for just surprise or anger
that their inferior natures were gulled.
He spent three whole days and nights in unavail
ing attempts to solve this riddle. At last, he deter
mined to apply to Salem himself, as the surest way
of gaining the desired information. He therefore
caused this to be proclaimed among the surrounding
tribes: — that if Salem would come and relate to
him, personally, the circumstances of a theft, the bold
ness and dexterity of which proclaimed him to be
the perpetrator, no harm should befall him ; but that
he would give him for the trouble of his journey, a
thousand piastres, (nearly three hundred francs) : he
further promised, on the word of a Mussulman, —
and in the East the word is sacred, — that as soon as
Salem had communicated the facts, he should be free
to go where he pleased.
He was not kept long in suspense. That very
evening, an Arab, twenty-five or six years of age, of
short stature, slender form, lively eyes, and free, bold
manner, presented himself before the tent ofthe Bey.
He was dressed in a plain frock of blue cotton. On
being admitted to the tent, he declared his readiness
to divulge the secret of the robbery.

THE DESERT, 157
The Bey received him as he had promised to do,
and repeated the offer of a thousand piastres, with
a reasonable proviso, however, that he, the Bey,
should first be satisfied of the truth of the statement
about to be made.
Salem met this suggestion by proposing that the
Bey should replace, with others, the various missing
articles, in exactly the positions they occupied on the
night of their disappearance ; and that the sentinel
should be commanded to allow him egress, and the
groom to obey him as before.
The Bey assented to this. He suspended another
sabre on the pole that sustained his tent ; threw an
other machallah on the divan ; placed another purse
under his pillow ; ordered another horse to be sad
dled ; and then lay down on his couch as he had done
on the preceding evening ; only, this time he kept his
eyes as wide open as possible. Every man then went
to his post, and the second representation took place
in presence of the whole army,
Salem retired about fifty paces from the tent,
where he removed his frock and the girdle that
bound it, and then laid himself down flat on the sand,
the colour of which was so similar to the colour of
his skin, that one could not be distinguished from the
other. He now crawled along, like a serpent, to
wards the tent. From time to time, as if to give his
exhibition, the show of reality, he raised his head and
reconnoitered the ground ; then, having assured him
self that all was quiet, he continued his course slow
ly and silently.
In this manner, he at length reached the tent : he
passed his head beneath the curtain, and the Bey
who as yet had seen nothing, and heard nothing, —
14

158 THE DESERT.
not even the slightest motion of the curtain, although
he had not ceased to watch it, — now suddenly per
ceived two eyes, steady and brilliant as those of a
lynx, fixed upon his face. His first emotion was fear,
for he was totally unprepared for such an apparition;
but recollecting that the whole was only a play, he
remained motionless, as if asleep.
After a mute inspection, the eyes disappeared ; and
for a few moments, nothing was heard but the gra
ting of the sand under the sentinel's feet. Suddenly,
the light was obstructed from the top of the tent,
which had a circular opening around the pole that
upheld it, and a man glided like a shadow down this
pole and stood beside the Bey. The man bent upon
one knee, and balancing his weight on his left hand,
listened to the breathing of the pretended sleeper :
in his right hand he held a short and crooked poig
nard. «'
A cold, sweat stood on the Bey's forehead, for his
life was: ia the power of a man, fi)r whose head he had
off'ered a thousand sequins of gold. However, he
continued to play his part in this strange drama
bravely ; not a quickened breath, nor a more rapid
beating of the heart betrayed his fear. During this
second of seeming immobility, the Bey thought he
felt something move under his pillow ; but, on the
watch as he was, he could not be certain of it, Sa
lem arose almost imperceptibly, without removing
his eyes from the sleeper ; but his left hand, which
was empty when he knelt, now held the purse ofthe
Bey, He put the purse and poignard between his teeth,
and walked backwards towards the divan, his eyes
still fixed on the Bey. He took up the machallah;

THE DESERT, 159
slowly dressed himself in it ; took the sabre and hung
it at his side ; wound around his waist and head the
two cashmeres which served the Bey for turban and
girdle ; stepped boldly out of the tent ; passed the
sentinel, who bowed before him with reverence ; and
struck his hands together thrice that his horse might
be brought. The instructed groom obeyed this or
der. Salem bounded lightly on the steed, and re
turning towards the door of the tent ¦ — where the
Bey was standing, half naked, to see the termination
of the play — he thus addressed his highness :
" Bey of Suez, in this manner, four nights ago, I
took from thee thy sabre, thy machallah, thy cash
meres, thy purse, and thy horse, I now release thee
from the payment of the one thousand piastres thou
hast promised me ; for the sabre, machallah, cash
meres, purse, and horse which I now carry off, are
worth fifty thousand,"
So saying, he put the horse to his speed, and dis
appeared like a spectre in the darkness of the night
and the depth ofthe Desert,
The Bey's next act in the premises was to send, on
the following day, a proclamation offering to Salem
the post of Kachef in his guards : but Salem return
ed answer that he would rather be a king in the De
sert than a slave in Suez.
" This," concluded Bechara, " is what passed be
tween the Bey of Suez and Salem the robber : take
care of j'our sabres and your-machallahs, your cash
meres and your purses, for we are on the very spot
where all these things occurred."
He then wished us a good-night and retired, fol
lowed by the applause of his comrades, who are al
ways delighted when a Turk is duped by an Arab.

160 THE DESERT.
The night passed tranquilly away, and in the morn
ing nothing was missing. Salem was doubtless fol
lowing his profession in some other quarter, for the
time being.
We were on our way before the sun ; and when
he arose, his -first rays discovered to us herds of ga
zelles, which fled at our approach. Nothing is more
singular than the contrast between these graceful an
imals and the plains they inhabit. One would think
that a gazelle was created expressly to enliven a
flowery garden and a velvet lawn. It is a practical
paradox, his living in the ruggedness and sterility of
these arid regions. I had the curiosity to turn an in
stant from the road to see the tracks these animals
left in the sand. The marks of their light feet were
scarcely visible : it seemed as if they had skimmed
along the surface of the ground, wafted by the wind
that occasionally reached us from the South, in
hot and violent gusts.
I returned to my company over the bones which
were now shining in the morning light like a fine of
silver, of interminable extent. The sun was already
hotter and more insupportable than we had ever be
fore known it. The Arabs warned us to leave no
part of our bodies exposed to its consuming contact.
But, notwithstanding their advice and our precau
tions, it was impossible to guard ourselves entirely
from the oblique rays, and we received some coups
de soldi, which affected the skin like an application
of moxa ; the calcined epidermis rose up in blisters,
and sunk again immediately.
After three hours, a white point appeared in the
horizon. Approaching nearer, we saw it was a
square tower, by which there seemed to be an im-

TIIE DESERT. 161
mense serpent unrolling itself in innumerable folds.
This tower is the dwelling of a Sheik, and is situated
about three leagues from Suez. It is here that the
caravans for Mecca halt for a moment to disengage
from that part of their company who are going only
to Suez. The pilgrims continue their route to the
East ; the travellers turn to the South, and soon fall
in with the first arm of the Red Sea, while the others
have yet to.travel ten or twelve days before they dis
cover the second, whence they follow the eastern
shore till they arrive at the Holy City,
What struck me as resembling the folds of a ser
pent around the building, proved to be an indefinite
number of asses, which were constantly in motion
between this place and the city, to carry water for
the inhabitants. The wells and fountains of Suez,
being so near the borders ofthe Red Sea, furnish on
ly bitter water. The hope of obtaining some of this
beverage for ourselves, now stimulated us to increase
our speed. We put our dromedaries on a gallop,
and in less than an hour accomplished the distance.
The chief of the khan replenished our goat-skins for
a small remuneration. For our own parts, we drank
from the spring itself; the water was slightly brack
ish, but we were too thirsty to regard trifles.
We had left at our right and on the other side of
a chain of mountains that for the last two days had
been visible in the southern horizon, the road that the
fugitive Israelites took when, led by Moses, guided
by the pillar of fire, and carrying with them the bones
of Joseph, (as Joseph, when dying, had commanded
them to do,) they left Rameses, crossed the Mokkat
an, and encamped at Etham, in the edge ofthe wil
derness. It was here that the Lord spake unto Mo
ses, and said: 14'

162 THE DESERT.
" Speak unto the children of Israel that they turn
and encamp before Pi-hiharoth, between Migdol and
the sea, over against Baal-zephon: before it shall ye
encamp by the sea."
The Israelites then descended towards the West,
and came to the place where we now were, proba
bly attracted by the very springs from which we had
slaked our thirst. They were here when they per
ceived the army of Pharaoh, and in great alarm said
to Moses :
" Because there were no graves in Egypt, hast thou
taken us away to die in the wilderness."
Reassured at length by the word and command
of Moses, the people continued their journey, direct
ing their steps to that part of the Red Sea where
Suez now stands.
The distance from the spring to Suez is about
three hours' march, though we took less time than
that in accomplishing it, for our camels broke into a
gallop as we started, and never stopped till we reach
ed the city.
As we advanced, the sky assumed a silvery hue. On
our right arose the chain of mountains which confine
the western shore of the Red Sea ; on our left the
Desert lay extended ; and between the two, reflected
in the waters of the Sea, were the white walls of
Suez. A few madenehs shooting up above the bat
tlements, broke the uniformity of their appearance.
Beyond the city lay the harbour where the barques
from Tor were at anchor, with the curiously shaped
vessels that venture as far as the Straits of Babel-
Mandel, and return after touching at Mocha.
We pitched our tent within a short distance of
Suez, and then went on to the border of the Sea.
This was the place where the Lord said to Moses :

THE DESERT. 163
" Lift up thou thy rod and stretch out thine hand
over the sea, and divide it ; and the children of Israel
shall go on dry ground in the midst of the sea."
When we arrived at the shore, it was high-water,
at which time travellers can cross in a boat, if they
are in haste. As this was not our case, and as Pha
raoh was not pursuing us, and as, also, we wished to
pass it after the manner ofthe Israelites, we resolved
to await the reflux ; and, in the mean time, to make
a shon visit to Suez.
We therefore approached the gates ; and, having
exhibited our tekeriks, (passports,) repaired to the
residence of the Turkish Governor, who treated us
with great civility. But what touched us the most,
in his reception, was the promptitude and affability
with which he ordered for us a goblet of pure
fresh water. We expressed our gratitude to him
by signs, while swallowing it. He invited us to
call again on our return, which we very readily prom
ised to do : when, fearing to be too late for the tide,
we took leave of him.
Bechara, who accompanied us, came to a sudden
halt on our route, and, pointing to a house near him,
repeated twice, " Buonabardo ! Buonabardo !" We
stopped, too, for we knew that was the name given
by the Arabs to Bonaparte : and, as he had been in
Suez, we presumed that this house contained some
memento of him. It appeared, indeed, that he had
lived in it. We entered, and asked to speak with
the owner. He was a Greek, named Comanouli,
agent for the English East India Company ; and, per
ceiving that we were Frenchmen, readily divined the
object of our visit, and treated us with the greatest
kindness. Bonaparte's room is the plainest in the

164 THE DESERT.
house. It is encircled by a divan, and its windows
open on the harbour : but there is nothing about it,
saving the fact of his occupancy, that recommends it
to the curiosity of visiters.
Bonaparte arrived at Suez on the 26th of Decem
ber, 1798. He spent the 27th in visiting the city and
port. On the 28tb he prepared to cross the Red Sea,
and visit the Fountains of Moses. At eight o'clock
in the morning, the tide being down, he passed over
the bed ofthe water, and found himself in Asia.
While seated near the Fountains, he was waited
upon by some Arab Chiefs from Tor and its envi
rons, who thanked him for the protection he had af
forded their commerce with Egypt. From the Foun
tains he went to visit the ruins of a large aqueduct,
built during fhe war between the Portuguese and
Venetians. This war took place before the discove
ry of the Cape of Good Hope, an event that ruined
the commerce of Venice. The aqueduct was de
signed to convey water from springs in the vicinity
to large cisterns along the shore, whence vessels could
receive supplies.
This visit accomplished, Bonaparte commenced his
return. The night was advanced when he reached
the borders of the sea, and the tide was rising. The
guide proposed to encamp where they stood for the
night, but Bonaparte would not listen to the advice.
He called the guide, and with some sternness com
manded him to lead the way. The man, disconcert
ed by this order, proceeding from the lips of one
whom the Arabs regard as a Prophet, mistook the
most direct course, and lengthened the route nearly
a quarter of an hour. They were scarcely half-way
over, when the ripples of the flood covered the hor-

THE DESERT. 165
ses' hoofs. The water in this sea rises with great
rapidity ; the darkness prevented the party from see
ing how far they had yet to go ; and, at this moment.
General Caffarelli, whose wooden leg rendered him
unable to sit firmly in the saddle, called out for help.
This cry of distress alarmed and disordered the com
pany. Every one, as by common consent, began to
look out for himself. Bonaparte, alone, continued
quietly to follow the Arab. The tide, however, was
whirling in with great force and swiftness ; his horse
became frightened, and refused to advance ; the situ
ation was terrible ; delay was death. A soldier of
the escort, who was a little in the rear of Bonaparte,
seeing the imminent peril, sprang from his horse and
took the General on his shoulders. He was a man
of high stature and herculean strength. He waded
along, supporting himself by the tail of the guide's
horse, who was still in front and advancing as fast
as prudence permitted. Directly the water reach
ed his armpits, and he began to lose his footing.
Two minutes more, and the death of one man
would have changed the destiny of the world. But
at this instant the guide gave a shout ; his horse ,
touched the land ; the soldier foflowed with his bur
den safe, and fainted on the shore.
The party reached Suez without the loss of a sin
gle man. Napoleon's horse alone was drowned.
Twenty-two years afterwards Bonaparte retained
a remembrance of this adventure more vividly, per
haps, than of aU his other perils : he thus writes from
St. Helena :
"Taking advantage of low water, I crossed the
Red Sea dry-shod. Returning, I was overtaken by
the night, and lost my way in the rising tide. I was

166 THE DESERT.
in the most imminent danger, and very nearly per
ished in the same manner as Pharaoh > had I done so,
the event would have afforded to all the preachers
of Christianity a magnificent text against me."
When we reached the shore, the water had retired,
and the time was perfectly favourable. We folded
our tent,mounted our dromedaries, and pushed boldly
into the sea : in the deepest part, the water was
scarcely a foot high. Forty minutes sufficed for the
passage ; and, at two o'clock, we stood on the soil of
Asia. We passed over several sand hills which bor
der the sea, and again we were in a Desert.
Our caravan now assumed a military aspect, for
we had entered a country where the law of nature
supersedes the law of nations. Araballah took his
position about a hundred and fifty yards in front, as a
scout ; and Bechara was placed about the same dis
tance behind the rear-guard, so that his songs and
stories might not divert any body's attention.
We proceeded about a league in this manner,
when Araballah came to a halt, and pointed his lance
towards the South, where we presently saw two black
specks just visible under the horizon.
Toualeb ordered two Arabs to join Araballah, and
go forward with him. They obeyed instantly and in
silence, and the three soon disappeared behind a
cluster of palm-trees on our left. The rest of us
halted ; and, in order to be ready for any emergen
cy, we prepared our arms. Toualeb then gave a
shout, and all set off on a gallop. We followed, and
the two black specks, which had now taken the form
of two cavaliers, were distinctly visible. We all still
pressed onward, however, not knowing, for our own
parts, whether we were flying to friends or foes.

THE DESERT. 167
They were probably friends ; for Toualeb ceased
watching them, arrived at the little oasis, and slid
himself down from his dromedary. Ours knelt as we
came up, and we found ourselves near five delightful
fountains, overshadowed by a dozen palm-trees. We
had arrived at the Fountains of Moses, where the Is
raelites sang their song of thanksgiving, while " Miri
am, the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a tim
brel in her hand ; and all the women went out after
her, with timbrels and with dances."
Without delay, we bathed our heads and arms in
these ancient springs, and were entirely absorbed in
this occupation when Araballah re-appeared with his
companions. They were followed by the two black
specks, which proved to be monks from Mount Sinai.
The monks descended from their dromedaries, and
seated themselves by our side : in the Desert, every
one you meet is a friend or a foe : you share with
him your tent, bread, and rice, — or exchange with
him spear or sabre thrusts ; carbine or pistol shots.
The new-comers had no hostile intent. On the
contrary, the meeting was to us most fortunate, since
they belonged to the Monastery to which we were
bound. Our acquaintance was quickly made. They
saluted us in Arabic, and we replied as we could.
Baron Taylor invited them to join our repast, which
Abdallah was preparing. We seated ourselves in
the shade of the palms, on sand moistened by the
filtration of the springs, and were soon in a state of
tranquillity and comfort not before felt since we left
Cairo. We desired our guests to explain (what seemed to
us extraordinary) how two sohtary men, without at
tendance, without arms, and belonging to a rich Mon-

108 THE DESERT.
astery, dared to wander in the Desert, at the risk of
being killed, robbed, or held to ransom, by the first
Arabs they might chance to meet ? We well knew
that, in the eyes of the wandering thieves, neither
their religion nor their garb was a safeguard : and
we expressed our admiration of their courage, while,
also, we could not repress our astonishment at their
hardihood. In reply to these remarks, the elder of the two
monks took from his pocket a small embroidered
bag, opened it, and handed us a paper : it was b. fir
man — signed Bonaparte !
The sight of this autograph in the midst of the
Desert, where the renown of the man is still increas
ing from the remembrance of his victories ; the en
thusiastic veneration of the stoic Toualeb, as he ap
proached and repeated " Buonabardo ! Buonabardo !"
the intense and irrepressible curiosity of the Arabs
who crowded around us ; all concurred to give this
scene a character of thrilling interest to us French
men. We asked the old cenobite how he became
possessed of this firman : and the following is the
substance of his answer :
The Monastery of Sinai, enclosed between the
two arms of the Red Sea, and seated at the southern
extremity of the peninsula, distant ten days' journey
from Suez and twelve from Cairo, is entirely depend
ent on these two cities. Their governors, professing
a religion at variance with that of the monks, were
generally little disposed to aid them against the dep
redations of the Mamelukes of the cities and the
Arabs of the Desert. As the monks were obliged to
draw their subsistence from Arabia, Greece, and
Egypt, — their grain being harvested in Chio, their

THE DESERT. 169
wool growing at Peloponnesus, their coffee ripening
at Mocha, — they found, after the revolt of the Beys
and the dominion of the Mamelukes, that the latter
began to levy enormous duties on all supplies pass
ing through Alexandria, Djedda, or Suez. And even
after this duty was paid, they were forced to treat
with the Arabs for the transportation ; hire an escort,
which, being attacked by a different tribe, would fre
quently fail of bringing their freight to the Monas
tery, (though, in the mean time, thejr were well paid
for undertaking to do so); and thus the monks not
only lost their supplies and the charges upon them,
but also some of their brethren in the caravan would
be made prisoners, and held in bondage at a ruinous
ransom. Thus lived these unfortunate men, struggling against
inappreciable difficulties to obtain their bread. And,
as if even these enumerated troubles were not suffi
cient, the Bedouin Arabs, like a flock of ravenous
birds, hovered night and day around the walls of the
Monastery, ready to take advantage of the least im
prudence or exposure of its inmates, and to carry off
every thing, whether men or cattle, that ventured be
yond its walls.
The wretchedness of these good men was at its
height, when one day they learned, from the Arabs
themselves, that a man had come from the West,
with the words of a prophet and the power of a god.
They resolved to go to this man and solicit his pro
tection. They chose two deputies from their body, and
agreed upon a price with the leader of a tribe, to
conduct them to the quarters of this chief The two
monks set out immediately on their journey, followed
15

170 THE DESERT.
by the prayers and carrying the last hopes of their
persecuted brethren. They followed the borders of
the Red Sea for ten days ; and when, on the morn
ing of the eleventh day, they arrived at Suez, they
saw an unknown flag floating over its walls. They
inquired for the Sultan of the French ; but were told
that he had gone to Cairo, having in eighteen days
made the conquest of Egypt,
To Cairo, then, they turned their faces ; crossed
the Desert, traversed the Mokkatan mountains, and
arrived without accident at the capital.
Their old enemies, the Mamelukes, had been driv
en from its walls like dust. Murad-Bey, defeated at
the Pyramids, had fled into Upper Egypt. Ibrahim,
vanquished at El-Arich, was hidden in Syria. And
the same unknown banner which they had seen at
Suez, waved from the minarets of Cairo.
They entered the city, now quiet and peaceful,
reached the Place El-Bekir, and inquired for the
Sultan. His house was pointed out, and they pre
sented themselves. An aid-de-camp conducted them
into the garden where Bonaparte was seated at a
table, with a chart of Egypt unrolled before him.
Near him were Caffarelli, Fourrier, and an interpre
ter. The monks addressed him in Italian, and stated
the object of their mission.
Bonaparte smiled. They had flattered him more
eff'ectually than the most skilful courtier. Their words
and their journey showed that his fame haa reached
Asia, and, by the Yemen, was to precede him into
India. He had underrated the power of his own
name : two jjoor monks had traversed a hundred
leagues of the Desert to inform him of it.
He directed the monks to be seated ; and, while

THE DESERT. 171
coffee was presented to them, he dictated to the in
terpreter a firman, — the identical paper now before
us, — which was to assure safety both to persons and
supplies through the Desert.
From that day the monks were safe. In the course
of time the Nile and the Mediterranean bore back
the flotilla to France : the Turks recovered their
power : the Mamelukes re-took their cities : the Arabs
swayed the Desert. But neither Turk, Mameluke,
nor Arab, has dared to violate the firman of Napo
leon. To this day the monks of Sinai may wan
der in the Desert alone and defenceless, under the
safeguard of this magical signature, now half defaced
by the devout kisses of the descendants of Ishmael :
yet these same Ishmaelites, some days ago, pillaged
the great caravan on its return from Mecca, and car
ried off the daughter of a Bey, to make her the con
cubine of one of their chiefs.
Thus ended the story of the monk. Bechara, con
trary to all precedent, had for once been a listener.
And now, judging from the lateness of the hour, that it
would require a very seductive tale from him to erase
the impression ofthe one we had just heard, he shrunk
from the experiment ; and, dissimulating under a gra
cious smile his chagrin at being eclipsed, he took leave
of us for the night, and laid himself down to sleep.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE BEWILDERING VALLEY.
On the following morning, the monks asked us ifwe
had letters to their Monastery. We related the cir
cumstance which prevented our obtaining them in
Cairo, and added that we left that city determining
to depend on our good looks for a passport. From
the reply of the monks, we inferred that our physi
ognomies would have poorly assisted us ; and that
had we not fortunately fallen in with themselves, we
certainly could not have gained admittance to the
Monastery. But they had the power to repay our
hospitality ; aud they scrawled some Greek charac
ters on a paper, which we preserved whh as much
care as they did the firman of Bonaparte.
We had passed a miserable night : for fatigue is
not an infallible anodyne. Our sleep was disturbed
by dull, wandering pains all over our bodies ; and in
some places the pains were fixed and acute. Differ
ing from the Homeric cavaliers of Tasso and Arios-
to, who were cloven from top to bottom, we were
smitten from bottom to top.
After we had commenced our journey for the day,
we found that every step of our dromedaries, which
happened to be a little more energetic than usual.

THE BEWILDERING VALLEY. 173
was a sort of invisible coup d'epee that extorted from
us the most horrible grimaces. To crown all, we
to-day abandoned the borders of the sea, deferring,
until our return, a visit to Tor, and turned to the
East, which change of direction brought the sun full
into our faces. This Desert, too, seemed even more
dry and barren than its ^predecessor. The vast plain
before us was furrowed with ridges that ran regu
larly from East to West, corresponding in form to
the waves of the ocean ; and our dromedaries sunk
to their knees in sand, as white and crumbling as
powdered chalk.
About nine o'clock, the wind rose ; not mild and
refreshing, as when it sweeps over verdant fields, but,
surcharged with burning atoms, fierce and ardent as
the breath of a volcano. Bechara chose this oppor
tunity to redeem his reputation, which had suffered
such discomfiture on the preceding evening. He
placed himself between Mayer and me, and commen
ced an Arab song. It was in praise of the haghin;
and the following may serve as a translation of a
stanza. " This courser is so mettlesome, that one would
think his veins were filled with quicksilver. At sight
of his light and graceful form, the antelope casts
down its eyes in modest confusion : gladly would the
bold leopard exchange his claws for such feet : like
the earth, always equal in his movements, and not
less rapid than the waters of overflowing torrents,
he rivals the fire in ardour, and the wind in swift
ness." Unfortunately for Bechara's attempt to regain his
popularity, he was unaware of what was passing in
our minds: he did not know that the trot of our
15*

174 THE BEWILDERING VALLEY.
beasts was tearing lis to pieces, and therefore, that
his song was in effect, a eulogy on the executioner
chanted in the ears of the felon : his success in this
essay, therefore, was far from flattering. A pane
gyric on the dromedary, at such a time, could only
exasperate us. Nothing makes us more resolutely
deny the good qualities of a thing, than our suffering
under its bad ones. He might as well have praised
the heat of the sun, the flneness of the dust, or the
blazing uniformity ofthe landscape.
The truth is, we were in one of the most fearfully
renowned wadies of the peninsula. It is called
" the Bewildering Valley," on account of its moving
sands, the perpetual changes of which, at the caprice
of the wind, render it impossible even for a prac
tised guide to be certain of his route while traversing
it. We were surrounded by hills of sand ; and the
wind as it swept their summits, became freighted
with clouds of dust, floated around our heads, pass
ed down our throats, and stifled us like the air ofa
crucible. At length, the hour arrived for our first halt. Our
Arabs pitched our tent, and wc looked for a brief res
pite ; but the wind carried the tent away at once.
A second attempt was made to fasten it, without
success : the sand had no consistency beneath the
surface, and the stakes could not be secured in it —
and if they could, the cords were not strong enough
to hold the canvass against the gale. We were
forced, therefore, to follow the example of the
Arabs, and seek shelter in the shadows of our drom
edaries. 1 had just lain myself down by the side of my beast
when Abdallah came to say that it was impossible to

THE BEWILDERING VALLEY. 175
light a fire for his cooking. This news was not so
bad as the poor devil thought it might be : we had
no inclination to eat, but a glass of pure, fresh water
would have been worth a kingdom. The water
we obtained at the Fountains of Moses was origin
ally brackish ; and this, joined to the smell of the
skins, and the intolerable heat, rendered it unfit to
drink. The sun continued to ascend, and now reached the
zenith of its height and its intensity. Our camels no
longer afforded a shade. I retreated to a distance
from mine, unwilling to endure his wild-beast odour,
when I could gain no corresponding advantage by
suffering its offensiveness, and wrapped myself in Be
chara's mantle. In ten minutes, the side I exposed
to the sun was sufficiently baked, and I turned the
other, presuming that when loell done, I should cease
to suffer. During our two hours' halt, I did nothing
but turn and twist in agony. I was enveloped in my
covering, and could not see my companions ; and I
had not energy enough to inquire after them. All
I. know is that, muffled in Bechara's mantle, I was,
to all intents and purposes, a crab stewing in its
shell. A change, at last, came over our torments : the
time arrived for continuing our journey. We mount
ed our dromedaries like listless and unwilling crim
inals, indifferent as to the route we were to pursue.
We were certain that it must he forward in some di
rection, and that was all. I merely asked if we should
have fresh water that evening ; and Araballah, who
was near me, replied that the spot of our intended
halt was near a well.
The sleeplessness of the past night, my abstinence

176 THE BEWILDERING VALLEY.
from food, and the state of fusion I had been in
for some time, combined, now, to produce an irre
sistible drowsiness, I at first opposed to it the idea
of danger; a fall of fifteen feet, although on the
sand, had no attraction in it. But the fear of this
mischance soon grew indistinct. A hallucination
took possession of me. My eyes were closed ; yet I
saw the sun, the sand, and the dusty air, only they
were changed in colour and took strange and varia
ble hues. I then imagined myself in a vessel rocked
by the surges of Ihe ocean. Suddenly, I dreamed
that I had fallen from my dromedary, which, how
ever, continued its course. I tried to call out to my
companions, but my voice failed, and the caravan
went on. I strove to pursue, but could not keep my
feet in the sandy waves ; they overwhelmed and
nearly drowned me. I endeavoured to swim, but I
had forgotten the necessary motions. Over this vis
ion of frenzy came recollections of my childhood,
that for twenty years had been buried in oblivion.
1 heard the murmur of a pleasant brook gliding
through my father's garden. I threw myself under
the shade of a chestnut-tree, planted on the day of
my birth. How I could simultaneously and inter
changeably experience these conflicting visions, I
have no power to imagine : the one factitious, that of
water and shade ; the other real, that of thirsting,
parching, suffocating. But I was so bewildered that
I did not know which of the two was a dream.
Presently, a violent blow in my breast or back awa
kened me ; it was a thump from my saddle that
warned me I had, in truth, nearly lost my equilibrium.
I opened my eyes with a start of terror: the garden,
the brook, the tree, and the shade had vanished : but

THE BEWILDERING VALLEY. 177
the sun, the wind, the sand — the Desert, in short —
remained. Hours passed in this manner, but I took no note
and had no notion ofthe time. At length all motion
ceased : and, arousing myself once more from my
drowsiness, I saw that the caravan had stopped.
The whole of the Arabs were grouped around Toua
leb ; we three remained just where our camels had
pleased to halt. I made a sign to Mohammed : he
came to me, and I inquired why the Arabs stopped
and looked about them so irresolutely, I found from
his answer that " the Bewildering^Valley " maintain
ed its reputation, and our men had lost their way.
Our Palinurus, doubting his own judgement, had
appealed to that ofhis followers. The decision was
almost unanimous that our proper direction was a
slight turn to the right ; this settled, our camels set
forth on a magnificent gallop.
The proximity ofa real danger — that of missing
the well — rapidly dispelled all my fantastical reve
ries. Perhaps, too, the gradual decrease ofthe heat
had some agency in the resuscitation. This very de
crease of heat, however, as it implied the sun's de
scent towards the horizon, was a source of new dis
quietude : for if night overtook us on our journey,
we should be doubly liable to lose our way.
After an hour's silence I ventured to ask if we
were far from the place of encampment.
" There !" said the Arab who galloped at my side,
stretching out his arm towards the horizon.
This restored me to life. It seemed as ifwe were
already at the well : besides, at the rate our camels
were now going, we must very shortly be there in
reality, if within a moderate distance.

178 THE BEWILDERING VALLEY.
At the end of another hour, I asked another Arab
the same question. He made the same reply. I
believed that he spoke the truth, for we had accom
plished several leagues in the interval.
Another hour passed. The sun disappeared with
the rapidity peculiar to eastern climes. M. Tay
lor now asked if we were far from the well : and
Araballah, after a careful survey, declared that we
had still two good hours of toil before us. This was
too much. We were drooping from weariness and
exhaustion, even more than from thirst ; and we came
to a stop, declaring that though we were indifferent
as to the sort of death we were to die, we preferred
our present location for its scene. Toualeb made
the sign to the dromedaries ; they knelt ; and we
fell, rather than dismounted, on the sand.
We had now to contend with the same difficulty
that perplexed us in the morning: our tent was no
sooner pitched, than a blast of wind tore it from its
fastenings, and it had to be chased as a man runs after
his hat in a gale. You may believe it was the Arabs
who indulged in this recreation : we would have al
lowed the tent to return to Suez without raising a
finger to stop it. This difficulty, however, was less
embarrassing than before. Night had brought, if not
coolness, at least a comparative cessation of the in
supportable heat that had almost crazed me. Ab
dallah, too, more fortunate than in the morning, had
found a fragment of a rock, under shelter of which
he established his kitchen. We swallowed as much
of his rice as a black-bird might have done, and tried,
unsuccessfully, to wash it down with a mouthful of
water. We then bathed our faces and hands, and
fell asleep.

THE BEWILDERING VALLEY. 1 79
In the middle ofthe night, and while I was in a
profound slumber,. some one seized and shook me by
the arm, I opened my eyes, and, though not half
awake, instinctively called for a drink. As a reply
to this request, the neck of a gourd was placed in my
hand. I raised it to my lips and swallowed with a
mingled feeling of delight and incredulity, a draught
of pure and fresh water. I paused a moment ; but
as the gourd was not taken from me, I concluded
it was at my disposal, and that, from some miracu
lous cause, water was flowing for us all, I therefore
kept a firm hold of my gourd, and did not relinquish
it until I was certain that it did not contain another
drop. I then gave it to the benevolent spirit that
brought it. This spirit was Bechara ; who, as soon
as he saw us encamped, re-mounted his dromedary,
and alone, in the middle of the night, guided more by
instinct than sight, galloped four leagues to bring
this inestimable luxury from the well to which we
had not the courage to proceed.
During Ihe five minutes that elapsed before I went
to sleep again, it seemed to me that with the mur
muring of the wind was mingled a noise hitherto un
heard, like groans, inarticulate cries, and smothered
and distant sobs. I imagined that I was still under
the dominion of my hallucination, and dropped asleep
without making inquiry.
The first thing that occurred to my mind on waking
the next morning, was the episode of the gourd. The
repose ofthe night, the fresh water that had come down
to us like manna, the certainty that our gourds were
full, and that we should have plenty for the day, had
given us renewed strength ; and when we re-mount
ed our dromedaries at day-break, we were fresh.

180 THE BEWILDERING VALLEY,
cheerful, and happy. Alas ! at the first step we
took, we felt that the water, miraculous and strength
ening as it had been, was not a panacea for every ill.
At sunrise, the face of the country was changed.
We were in the midst of a sort of volcanic range,
surrounded by naked and sterile hills, similar to those
around the base of Mount Etna. We went about
three leagues over this broken ground, and then en
tered on a large plain, where the sand was so fine
that it seemed to have been carefully sifted.
Two hours before the usual time, we came to a
halt; I asked Bechara why we did so; and he an
swered that it was to have time to choose our camp
ing-ground. This sounded strangely ; for Toualeb
was not in the habit of taking such minute precau
tions. In effect, our Arabs dismounted and commenced
their search for a proper place, by looking attentive
ly on the ground. This proceeding awakened my
curiosity anew ; so I, too, dismounted and searched.
As I did not find anything, I called Bechara, and
begged him just to tell me what we were looking for.
If our search were for a suitable place to encamp, it
did appear to me that the spot where we stood was
as good as any other ; and I could not see the use
of taking so much trouble about it.
He called my attention to the sand, and pointed
out tracks upon it, which, from their infinite number,
had not before struck me as being tracks, I now
saw, however, that they were well defined, and so
close together that we could not make a stepwit"hout
treading on them. These, he told me, were the
tracks of serpents and lizards ; and he showed me
here and there the holes they dwelt in. The Arabs

THE BEWILDERING VALLEY. 181
could not merely distinguish to which of the two
classes the tracks belonged, but could also tell the
age, size, and strength of the creature by which any
one mark was made ; and also whether the mark had
been made on the preceding day, that morning, or
that instant. The lizard leaves the mark of his four
claws perfectly imprinted, and a little, irregular stripe,
where his tail dragged. The snake, that rolls along
in a spiral form, leaves parallel and interrupted marks
wherever the circumference of its rings bends the
tangent formed by the sand. The gazelle leaves a
fight and coquettish print, capriciously irregular, ac
cording as her gay temperament has borne her on
ward in joyous bounds or frolicksome deviations. It
appeared, from this examination, that the Desert
hereabouts was inhabited by a numerous but extreme
ly mixed society ; and that if some of the creatures
were pleasing to look at, the majority were very bad
company-. In the event, however, our apprehensions
were our only annoyance.
In the evening we redoubled these same precau
tions, halting at five o'clock in order to have time to
beat the ground. One of the Arabs trod on a ser
pent, which he killed with a coup de courbache before
the animal had time to bite. It was as thick as my
wrist, but of the disproportionate length of only two
feet : this gave it a specially disagreeable appear
ance. The fear of these creatures was paramount to every
other consideration. We scarcely touched the water
and rice that Abdallah brought us ; so powerful an
influence may the imagination exert over the wants
of the body. I, for one, slept very badly. I fancied
that I felt continually those mis-shapen snakes, with
16

182 THE BEWILDERING VALLEY.
bodies like enormous caterpillars and heads like a
dog's, crawling along under my carpet.
In the middle ofthe night, I heard again the same
strange noises that had before attracted my atten
tion. As at this time there was no air stirring, it
could not possibly be the whistling and moaning of
the wind. I rose at once to ask the Arabs the cause
of this nocturnal phenomenon ; but they were all so
soundly asleep beside their camels, that I had not the
heart to awaken them, I returned to my carpet,
where fatigue at last got the better both of my curi
osity and my apprehensions, and I slept till morning.
We started before day. When the sun arose, we
were out of the plain of serpents, and had enter
ed a wady, — a name given by the Arabs to a thou
sand valleys that furrow the peninsula of Mount Si
nai, As we advanced, we found the hills larger. They
were, no longer volcanic swellings, like those we had
passed, but actual mountains calcined by fire. On
their sides were large layers of red and black lava ;
but we could not go near enough to discover what
caused this difference of colour in matter that had
been hardening there for centuries. From this val
ley we passed into another which opens in the form
of a V, and is cut into the mountain : the perpendic
ular walls of stone forming its sides are as smooth
and regular as if a colossal axe had severed them at
a blow. One of these walls is covered with ancient
characters, deeply incrusted, — very probably one
of the inscriptions, spoken of by Herodotus, that Se
sostris caused to be engraved when he returned
by the way of Ophir from his expedition to the Ery-
threan Sea. We asked our Arabs about them ; but
they could not inform us whose victorious and mighty

THE BEWILDERING VALLEY. 183
hand had left on this granite page a few lines of its
history. From this time we had no fear of losing our way.
Each mountain and rock was an index pointing the
road. About three in the afternoon, Toualeb an
nounced that we were approaching a well ; and our
dromedaries corroborated his judgement by abandon
ing their listless air and lifting up their heads from
time to time, as if scenting water at a distance.
After doubling the angle of a mountain, they set off
on a gallop of their own accord, and in ten minutes
of most impetuous speed, we arrived at an excava
tion of twenty feet in diameter ; the approach to it
was a gentle declivity, very much worn by constant
resort. As we came up, a cloud of musquittoes, so
thick as to appear like a volume of smoke, flew off,
leaving the well free. Our dromedaries now failed
to sustain their reputation for staidness ; notwith
standing our efforts to restrain them, they rushed
bodily into the water, with all their sand, dirt, and
sweat upon them ; and when the brutes condescend
ed to make way for us, the whole fountain was so
covered with hairs, so thick with mud, so bubbling
with offensiveness altogether, that we could not even
bathe in it, — to say nothing of drinking. Our Arabs,
being of a feather with their camels, had no repug
nance to the luxury, but drank as if nothing had hap
pened. There is some risk in approaching a well in this
Peninsula. The Bedouin Arabs, who are born rob
bers, are usually stationed near the water-courses,
waiting patiently in ambush, in the full assurance
that all travellers must necessarily pass in their re
view, and ready to assail whoever and whatever of
fer an inducement to their cupidity.

184 THE BEWILDERING VALLEY.
As Toualeb had chosen this spot for our night's
encampment, and was quite aware both of the ad
vantages and the perils of the location, he sent for
ward Bechara and Araballah as scouts. They re
turned in half an hour with the intelligence that a
tribe of Bedouin shepherds was quartered at the dis
tance of about half a league.
They had scarcely made their report, when an
Arab appeared, leading a sheep. Bechara advanced
a few steps to meet him, and the salutation of the
Desert commenced between them.
" Peace be with thee !" said Bechara.
" With thee, a hundred-fold peace 1"
" Art thou well ?"
"I am well,"
" And thy wife 1"
" Very well."
" And thy house ?"
" Very well."
" And thy servants ?"
"Very well."
" And thy dromedary ?"
" Very well."
" And thy flocks ?"
" Very well,"
Bechara then proffered his hand to the stranger ;
it was accepted, and some masonic signs of the De
sert were exchanged between the two. This done,
the Arab propounded to Bechara the identical ques
tions to which he had just replied, and Bechara, in
turn, made the same answers.
This prolonged salutation, in this stereotyped form,
may appear to an inhabitant of a city a great waste
of words ; but, inasmuch as after the said salutation

THE BEWILDERING VALLEY. 185
is over, these creatures might make the tour of the
world without exchanging another word, it must be
confessed that, in the aggregate, they are not unrea
sonably loquacious.
As a proof of Arab taciturnity, Bechara related
the following incidents :
A celebrated poet of Bagdad had heard one of his
brethren of Damascus so highly extolled, that he de
termined to visit him, and learn for himself whether
he merited the reputation he enjoyed. He arrived
at Damascus, after a journey of two months. The
customary salutation having passed, he apprized his
host of the purpose of his visit. The poet of Damas
cus took the manuscript ofa history he was compos
ing, and read some extracts to his guest. The latter
listened in silence until the reader made an end, and
then said,
" You are the greatest writer in prose " 
He remounted his dromedary, and rode back to
Bagdad without another word. After a time, the
citizen of Damascus thought it might be well to re
turn this visit. He reached Bagdad in two months.
The Arlstarchus who had given an opinion of his
prose received him silently, but for old acquaintance
sake made him be seated. The new comer, not to
interrupt his host unnecessarily, drew at once from
his pocket a manuscript poem, and read some pages.
The man of Bagdad listened attentively, as before,
and at the end of the reading, he remarked, in con
tinuation of the sentence suspended for six months,
"  and in verse."
They separated without exchanging another syl
lable. Meanwhile, the sheep of the Bedouin was for sale ;
16*

186 THE BEWILDERING VALLEY.
this was excellent news to us, as we had not tasted
fresh meat for several days. But the man demand
ed five francs for the animal, which Bechara had to
admit was an exorbitant price. However, the bar
gain was completed to the satisfaction of both par
ties. Great rejoicing now took place throughout the
caravan, for the Arabs were well assured that we
three Frenchmen, famished as we might be, could by
no means dispose of a whole sheep. Every one,
therefore, set about assisting Abdallah, hoping by
obliging us to secure each a good job for himself.
Some went to the Bedouins for wood, ours being
nearly exhausted : others butchered the sheep, and
made large crosses on our camels with its blood to
conjure away the evil-eye ; and to render honour
(in the view of whoever we might meet the next
day,) to the generous chief of the strangers, who
would not be withheld by the expense, from granting
the poor Arabs a feast.
Bechara, for the time, dethroned Abdallah, and
wrested from him the carving-knife. The sheep
being first properly dressed, he filled its centre with
dates, raisins, butter, apricot-marmalade, rice, and
herbs. This done, he carefully sewed up the sides,
removed from the fire all the burning sticks, placed
the sheep in the middle of the coals, and covered it
with coals and ashes. After a time he turned it, that
it might be equally cooked ; and in about an hour he
served it up in an enormous wooden bowl.
We sat around it, and invited Toualeb, Bechara,
and Ariaballah to sit with us, for the double purpose
of paying them a compliment, and of learning by
their example, how this formidable dish was to be
eaten.

TIIE BEWILDERING VALLEY. 187
Toualeb gravely drew his poignard, opened the
stomach, thrust in his right hand, and pulled out a
fistful of the scented ragout. This he passed under
our noses that we might appreciate its excellence
before he tasted it. The slash in the sheep was smok
ing like the mouth of a volcano, but I followed the
lead of Toualeb. I had occasion at this instant to
ascertain that his skin and mine were not alike : for
although I drew forth, as he did, a handful, my hand
suffered severely in the operation. I transferred the
confiture with all haste to my mouth, in order to re
lieve my hand, and I bolted it without tasting, to re
lieve my mouth ; and here relief was at an end : so,
at one slap, I burned hand, mouth, and stomach. I
remained motionless, with my eyes shut, about a min
ute, to let the pain go over. The internal fire was
first extinguished, and I was let off with a roasted
hand and palate. The others profited by my expe
rience, and, being more cautious, were less punished.
When sufficiently recovered to watch the progress
of affairs, I saw that Toualeb was preparing to
change his point A attack to the outside of the
victim. He returned his poignard to his girdle, and
griping with his fingers and nails a rib, he stripped it
clean in an uistant; Bechara pinched next, and tore
off the meat in the same manner, and with equal
dexterity ; and then followed Araballah, who proved
himself worthy of his predecessors. We now made
the attempt ; but soon found that if we expected to
secure our quota, we must use other implements than
our fingers. We resorted to our poignards, and, on
the whole, had the advantage of the Arabs.
Having satisfied our own appetites we passed the
bowl to Mohammed, Abdallah, and the other twelve

188 THE BEWILDERING VALLEY.
Arabs, who fell upon the carcass without ceremony,
each for himself; and in twenty minutes nothing
remained but a white, smooth, polished skeleton,
well worthy a place in any cabinet of comparative
anatomy. The joy of the guests was complete. Bechara
commenced a song composed by an Arab poet nam
ed Bedr-Ebn-Din, to a slow and harmonious air.
The words were an invocation to night : one stanza
will give an idea of the whole morceau :
" Nights are intermittent springs ;
Man draws from them alternately good and ill.
His life passes imperceptibly
In the midst of their constant succession.
Is he wretched? — the shortest seems to him eternal.
Is he happy? — the longest is but momentary."
The Arabs accompanied the music with gestures,
and assisted in the chorus. At the last verse, a new
second struck in. It was the strange noise I had
heard on the two preceding nights : like the murmur of
the wind at first, it took a strange and dismal sound
as it approached. At one time it resembled distant
and hollow groans with long and doleful lamentations ;
it was then interrupted by prolonged sobs and pier
cing and terrible screams. They were like the cries
of women and children whom savages were murder
ing. A profound terror seized me. I thought that
our neighbours, the Bedouins, were attacked, and
their groans were echoing around us. I called Be
chara. "Ah," said he, "those cries alarm you : they need
not. The scent of our sheep, wafted by the wind.

THE BEWILDERING VALLEY. 189
has reached the noses of the jackals and hyenas, and
they have come to ask for their share. You wiU
soon hear more of them; and if you throw a few
pieces of wood on the fire, you may see them prowl
ing around us."
I followed the suggestion for two reasons. I knew
the fire would keep wild beasts at a distance ; and I
was desirous to see these personages, since we must
have to do with them. The flame was soon strong
enough to illuminate an area of some sixty paces, and
half in the light, half in the shade, appearing and dis
appearing, there were, in disagreeable profusion, the
performers of the concert, which for three nights had
so attracted my attention. It seemed to me, from
the manner of their howling, that they were exciting
one another to attack us; and they advanced so near
that we could not only distinguish the jackals from
the hyenas, but could even see the hair bristle on the
backs ofthe latter.
We were armed only with pistols, swords, and
poignards, and I confess that I took no pleasure in an
ticipating a struggle, body to body, with such adver
saries. I again called Bechara : but he assured nie
that there was no danger, as our enemies would
certainly keep at a proper distance, notwithstanding
all their bluster.
" If,'' said he, " we had with us a dead body of a
man or a beast, nothing could prevent them from ma
king a simultaneous attack, except our throwing the
body to them."
I thought of the poor sheep we had been discuss
ing, and cast my eyes on it : it was no dead body,
but a mere skeleton : still, thought I, it will be better
to throw it, as it may change the burden of their in-

190 THE BEWILDERING VALLEY.
fernal song : but, on further reflection, I was afraid
they would take the thing for a quiz, and hold us to
account for an unseasonable jest.
I looked at the Arabs. They were entirely indiffer
ent about the matter. They made their usual prepa
rations for the night, and laid themselves quietly
down by the side of their camels. One of them, in
deed, stood as sentinel: but I was satisfied from his
manner that his object was to watch for our two-
legged neighbours rather than the four-footed prowl
ers. We at length retired to our tent, and threw our
selves on our carpets. We chatted for a time, to
this diabolical music ; and, finally, weariness over
powering our anxiety, we fell into a sleep as quiet
and sound as if lulled by a gentle symphony.

CHAPTER IX.

THE MONASTERY OF SINAI.

Our journey on the day following these events, pro
ved to be one of the most disagreeable we had yet
endured. The road was pfled with round pebbles,
forming a moveable stratum on which the feet of the
dromedaries slipped at every step. Now, too, we
were encountering the defiles contiguous to Sinai ;
and the sides of the mountains, reflecting and radi
ating the sun's rays, increased the already insupport
able heat.
Never was our halt more impatiently desired ; nev
er did we more quickly shelter ourselves under our
tent. The Arabs, for the first time, took off the cov
ering from the dromedaries to make tents for them
selves, their long lances forming the supports. Even
the camels, those indefatigable rovers of the Desert,
seemed to feel the merciless severity of the day.
They languidly stretched out their necks, and scoop
ed the sand with their noses to seek beneath the
first layer a coolness not to be found on the sur
face. However, although we were in extreme need
of rest, Toualeb insisted on our making only .a short
halt. It was necessary to arrive at our encamping
ground before dark, as we were approaching another
domain of the serpents and lizards.

192 THE DESERT.
Not a breath of air was stirring : the heat was suf
focating: the hours seemed eternal. And our ques
tions as to the remaining distance were always elu
ded by that uniform answer — " there !" — accompa
nied by the uniform horizontal motion of the arm,
and the pointing of the finger or the lance towards
invisibility. Our mouths were parched, and the sun
blistered our faces,
Bechara chose this opportunity to give a scope and
energy to his voice exceeding all that we had hith
erto heard. Indeed, it appeared that this scorching
temperature superinduced an unusual gayety in the
Arabs, for a general chorus greeted Bechara's first
couplet, and was scrupulously renewed at the end of
all the others, I know nothing more fatiguing than
good music when one is in a bad humour : it may
be imagined how this charivari disquieted both our
nerves and our tempers. By possibihty I might, with
my present exhaustion, thirst, heat, and in a comfort
able seat at the opera, have listened a few minutes
to the duo of La Sonnambula or the cavatine of Don
Juan : but here I was enduring the solo of Bechara
and chorus of Bedouins, perched, meanwhile, on the
wooden saddle of a hard-trotting dromedary, fifteen
feet from the ground.
However, I was too polite to impose silence on the
melo-maniacs who appeared so charmed with their
own music, I took advantage of a pause, though, to
ask Bechara for a translation of the verses ; hoping
that while he was explaining the subject-matter, he
would forget the air.
" There," said he, describing a semi-circle with his
arm, which took in the whole landscape before us,
and at least three cardinal points of the compass,

THE DESERT. 193
" there is our country ; our tribe is there ; we are
returning to our families, our wives, and our breth
ren." He then resumed his song ; and, at each refrain
repeated by his comrades, the camels, as if they, too,
had brethren, wives, and famUies, leaped for joy.
This general rejoicing was interrupted by the Arab
in advance. He uttered a shout, and extended his
lance towards the horizon. We cast our eyes in the
direction indicated, and perceived a black speck at
the opposite extremity of the valley.
Toualeb made a sign to Araballah, who at once
started ofl' on his dromedary. The animal bore him
away with unusual rapidity, and the two diminished
so fast in size, that in ten minutes they were like the
speck which attracted them. Presently the size of
both specks began to increase, from which it was
obvious that both were now approaching us.
The new-comer was an Arab of the same tribe as
Toualeb and his followers. He had just returned
from Obeid in Kordofan, passed along the White
River, which is thought to be one of the sources of
the Nile, traversed Nubia, followed the borders of
the Red Sea, whence he had now diverged to visit
his family, (from whom he had been separated eigh
teen months,) before he proceeded to Cairo. His mis
sion to this last mentioned place, — the object of which
I will state in a subsequent paragraph, — would have
done honour to the most distinguished European phi
lanthropist. Having learned so much of this man, and having
thus far faUed in my attempts to discover from our
own Arabs anything as to the distance and location
of our next halting-place — anything, I mean, beyond
17

194 THE DESERT,
their everlasting "there!" — I determined, now, to
apply to him as one unquestionably possessed of the
information, and probably willing to impart it. I
therefore approached him, and, calling to my aid all
my knowledge of Arabic, asked,
" Is it far to the place of encampment ?"
" God knows," replied he, devotionally.
I saw that I had to deal with a fatalist, but re
solved not to relinquish my purpose, if circumlocu
tion could avail.
" How long were you in coming from there ?" I
continued. " As long as it was God's pleasure."
I did not yet consider myself beaten, and began
again. " Shall we reach the place before sun-down ?"
" If God permit."
" But," cried I, finally, losing patience, " shall we
arrive there in an hour?"
This time his face contracted into a smile of as
tonishment, as if I had asked a thing monstrously
impossible. Then, reproachiiig himself for this ap
pearance of doubt which might offend the jealous
omnipotence of Allah, he recovered his gravity, and
answered with an expression of that faith which re
moves mountains,
" God is great."
" Who the devil doubts it ?" said I, forgetting my
self: "but that is not the point. Listen to me. I
ask you if the place of our encampment is distant, or
not ?"
He stretched out his right arm horizontally in the
direction we were going, pointed with his finger,
and out came the same eternal, stereotyped- 
" there !"

THE DESERT. 1 95
I now gave it up. I was moving around in a syl
logistic circle, and I determined not to enlarge it by
a new question. Meantime, the new Arab joined his
comrades : and, delighted at meeting them after so
long an absence, he discontinued his own journey for
the day, and returned with our caravan. In three
hours we arrived at our stopping-place.
The first view ofthe spot promised, at least, a soft
bed: the sand was of a reddish hue, of impalpable
fineness, and unmixed with pebbles or sheUs, Un
luckily its good qualities had been for some time ap
preciated by others, and those others were such as
we should scarcely choose for bed-fellows : we could
not move a step without encountering the holes or
tracks of serpents and lizards.
Night surprised us before we had found a place
free from these annoyances ; and we were therefore
obliged to trust to Providence, and choose at a ven
ture. The Arabs pitched our tent, and we unrolled
our carpets — perhaps covering the hole of a snake,
or a lizard, or b >th : the former would prove the
more dangerous, as t le snake ordinarily attacks with
fierceness any object that shuts the egress from its
den. Our supper was a doleful one, and the journey pre
ceding it, as I have observed, was one of the hardest
we had undergone. I was not sanguine about a good
night's rest. Still, that I might not have to reproach
myself for negligence, I resolved to make one more
patrol. I was occupied in this duty, my body bent
forward, my eyes fixed intently on the sand, when
Bechara, seeing me wander here and there like a
troubled spirit, joined me with the benevolent pur
pose of diverting me from my fears.

196 THE DESERT.
I inquired, in reference to his song in the morning,
whether I was to judge of the beauties of his native
land from the sample before us,
Bechara replied, not without confidence, that to
morrow I should be able to form an opinion from
personal observation of the justice of his praises :
and ended by asking if France could be compared to
the Peninsula of Sinai.
Never was a remark better calculated to call up
from the bottom of my heart those attachments to
my native soil, always strong and holy, but which are
especially so in a foreign land — and in such a land !
The question at once roused all my recollections
of France, each bearing a charm unknown and un-
thought of before. I spoke to him of Normandy,
with its rocky shores, its stormy ocean, its gothic ca
thedrals : of Brittany, that ancient land of the Dru
ids, with its forests of oak, its granite dolmins, and
popular ballads : of the South, the favourite province
of the Romans, who compared it with Italy, and who
have left in it gigantic monuments of their power to
rival those of the Eternal City : of Dauphiny, with
its Alpine mountains and emerald valleys, its poetic
tradition of its own seven wonders ; and the brilliant
rainbows of its water-fafls, the harmonious murmurs
and delicious freshness of which I never so fully ap
preciated and deeply sighed for as at this moment.
Bechara listened to my account with an air of in
credulity, that increased as I proceeded ; he did not
attempt to conceal his astonishment ; and I saw his
conviction, that I, in my capacity of artist to the car
avan, had sketched my pictures from imagination,
not from memory.
I asked him what he found extraordinary or in-

THE DESERT. 197
credible in my narration ? He recollected himself ;
and after a moment's pause,-
" Listen," said he : " Allah created the earth square
and covered it with stones. This done, he descend
ed with his angels, and seated himself, as you
know, on the summit of Sinai — the centre of the
world — and traced a great circle, the periphery of
which rests on the four sides of the square. He
then commanded his angels to throw all the stones
into the four exscinded corners, which correspond to
the four cardinal points. The angels obeyed ; and,
when the circle was cleared, he gave it to the Arabs,
who are his well-beloved children. He then called
the four angles, France, Italy, England, and Russia.
You see very plainly that France cannot he what you
represent." I respected the sentiment that dictated Bechara's
answer, however uncivfl it might seem to myself,
and made no reply. It certainly appeared singular,
that just in this crucible of sun, sand, and rocks, this
Arabia Petrea, such a tradition should be cherished.
As for Bechara, he fully believed, both from my si
lence, and the obvious truth of his story, that I was
totally vanquished ; and, like a generous enemy, for
bore to press his advantage.
We now approached the group of Arabs. The
stranger, the travelling philanthropist, was engrossing
the conversation ; for Bechara, among the rites of
hospitality, had surrendered to him his prerogative.
He was relating a long story, which I did not under
stand at the time, but Bechara afterwards explained
it to me as follows :
His name was Malek ; he was at Cairo when an
English traveller, desiring a guide who could ascedd
17*

198

THE DESERT.

the Nile with him, and conduct him as far as the
borders of the White River, engaged his services.
Malek, in fact, knew no more of the designated
route, after you pass Philse, than the man he was to
pilot : but an Arab doubts nothing, for his faith pla
ces the power of God at the end of all human know
ledge. Indeed, when they arrived at Ethiopia, he frankly
avowed to the traveller, that it would be more pru
dent for him to place himself under the guidance of
some natives of that country. The Englishman saw
that Malek had relied too much on his geographical
knowledge; but, as he had proved himself a complais
ant attendant and faithful servant, during the journey,
he retained him as a medium between him and his
new companions. Malek accompanied the European
in this capacity, as far as the Mountains of the Moon.
The latter was desirous of continuing his journey in
to Abyssinia, but Malek had bargained to conduct
him only to Baher-el-Abiad, or the White River, and
he now expressed a desire to return to his tribe.
The request was too reasonable to be opposed. The
travefler paid him double what he had agreed to do ;
and Malek bought a camel with his money and re
turned after the manner of his people, following no
specific route, but guiding himself by the stars. In
this manner he reached Kordofan, which he traver
sed from one extremity to the other ; sometimes bi
vouacking with his dromedary, and, like it, wanting
water and food ; sometimes soliciting hospitality at
the door of a negro-cabin ; where, to his surprise,
he never found any one but old men just ready for
the tomb, or young children scarcely out of the cra
dle.

THE DESERT. 199
On the northern frontier of this State, and two
days' journey from Obeid, its capital, (if that name
may be given to a heap of miserable huts,) he stop
ped at a cabin inhabited, as usual, by an old negro
and a child. The child and old man were weeping;
one calling for his mother, the other for his daughter.
When the negro learned that Malek was an Arab of
Lower Egypt, he related to him his story. His nar
rative gives some insight into the condition of the
population of the interior of Africa, hitherto so httle
known, and is not uninteresting. — -
Every year the Nile overflows and fertilizes Egypt;
and although God accomplishes this miracle for the
people in general, the Pacha alone profits by it. The
harvests of these fertile shores are his, from Damietta
to Elephantina. But beyond this latter limit live
wandering tribes, whose whole property, like that of
the old pastoral kings, consists in their flocks. The
nearest of these are the negroes of Darfur and Kor
dofan ; and the Pacha has more than once made them
feel that they are part ofhis empire, by levying from
them contributions of their persons, in the place of
harvests and money. When one of these taxes is to
be raised, which happens once in three or four years,
the Pacha sends a regiment of cavalry and some com
panies of infantry into the devoted portion of the
country, who then commence a hunt similar to that
which the kings of India pursue against elephants,
lions, and tigers. A large circle is first described by
the troops, who communicate in flank and move in
wardly, concentrating as they go, upon some given
point, ordinarily a mountain, that forms the centre of
the circle. Women, children, old men, young men,
and cattle, recede from the limits of the fatal ring aa

200 THE DESERT.
it approaches, until, at length, like the wUd beasts of
Cabul and Decan, they find themselves huddled to
gether promiscuously at the base, sides, and summit
of a mountain, which they cover like a moving and
speckled carpet, uttering cries and lamentations in
twenty different idioms. Then a scene of desola
tion commences, of which we can have little con
ception ; its counterpart may be found in the Bible,
when Nebuzaradan, captain of the guard of Nebu
chadnezzar, vanquished the Jews and led them cap
tive to Babylon, Each individual of this multitude
acts according to his natural character and propensi
ties. Those who hope to preserve their lives, resist
and are slain. Those who despair, precipitate them
selves from rocks and die. The feeble in body or
spirit, hide themselves in caves, which smoke soon
forces them to abandon. Then all who are worth a
price ; all who are fit to be soldiers or servants, slaves
or concubines, are taken, selected, appraised, and
conducted by troops along the borders of the Nfle,
whence they fill the bazaars of Cairo, Suez, and Alex
andria, or augment the armies ofthe viceroy. None
are left in the desolated region but old men who can
not be made use of, and children who in five years
perhaps may be. All the intermediate generations
disappear in a day, as at the time when Jehovah, to
punish the persecutors of His people, smote the first
born in Egypt, " from the first-born of Pharaoh that
sat upon the throne, to the first-born of the maid ser
vant that was behind the milk",. The old man and
child, in whose cabin Malek was resting, were a fa
ther and a son, who in the late campaign of the Pacha,
had lost in one person a daughter and a mother. The
husband of the woman had defended his family until

THE DESERT. 201
he was overpowered, and then precipitated himself
from a rock : the wife was carried into captivity :
these two were left as useless. The old man for
sook his home, passed the chain of mountains ex
tending from Darfur to the Red Sea, crossed the
Baher-el-Abiad, and reached Sennaar, on the Blue
River. There all the day long for six months, he
bent his aged frame to seek among the sand the gold
dust with which it is mixed. He was successful in
his labour. He exchanged a part of what he obtained
for ostrich feathers, and returned to Kordofan — with
the price of his daughter's ransom ! But, exhausted
by his toils and journeys, he had not strength remain
ing to carry him to Cairo ; and he had just lain him
self down in this cabin to weep with his grandchild
over his useless riches, when Malek came to ask his
hospitality. After the old man had finished the relation of his
misfortunes, Malek said to him, " my tribe inhabits the
Peninsula of Sinai : Sinai is eight days' journey from
Cairo : give me thy ostrich feathers and gold dust,
and I will go for thee to Cairo and redeem thy
daughter." And when we met Malek on the afternoon of this
day, he was on his route to accomplish this most be
nevolent, philanthropic, and holy engagement.
When the slaves are secured by the Pacha's sol
diers, in the manner I have related, they all set for
ward, forming one immense caravan, and follow the
course of the White River, until it empties itself into
the Nile. As the Nile diverges from this point into a
semi-circular course of one hundred and fifty leagues;
and the point where, after the circuit, it resumes its
course, is in a direct line distant but seventy leagues;

202 THE DESERT.
the merciless shepherds of this human flock decide
that it is useless to waste time by following the river,
and therefore strike across the seventy leagues pf
desert intervening between Halfay, where they leave
the Nile, and Korti, where they meerit again. They
take provisions for eight days, fill their goat-skins with
water, and hurry across this ocean of sand, heated by
a tropical sun.
Once set in motion, nothing arrests the progress of
the caravan. Necessity urges them forward, for the
two demons of the Desert, hunger and thirst, are be
hind them. As long as the day lasts, they speed on
ward, like waves before a tempest. The sick fall and
none pause to help them. Mothers who have not
strength to carry their children, lie down beside
them. The hyenas and jackals follow the caravan,
as the wolves followed Attila's army. Each even
ing they halt at an old encamping ground, easily re
cognised from the heaps of bones, left by their pre
decessors ; and each morning they depart, leaving a
new supply of bodies to replenish the monument
for future guidance. After a march, or rather a
race, of eight days, the remnant of this host arrives,
diminished in its numbers one third or one half, at
Korti ; where again falling in with fhe Nile, they pur
sue its course without interruption, and in great com
parative comfort, to Cairo. Sometimes it occurs, that
during the eight days in the Desert, the simoom
arises and shakes its wings of fire over the devoted
host. Then soldiers and slaves disappear in the Nu
bian sands, as did the army of Cambyses in the wil
derness of Ammon. The Pacha waits impatiently for
the return of his army with the captives : time rolls
on ; he makes search for them ; but no trace can be

THE DESERT. 203
found — not even a rumour can be heard : conjecture
alone may apprize him that the bones of his troops
and his victims are bleaching in the trackless wastes
of the Desert.
I know not if these defafls wifl make an impression
on any who may chance to read them in the midst
of a city and by their own firesides ; but I do know,
that when one is in the Desert, suffering heat, hunger,
and thirst — when he sees those waves of sand undu
lating on the horizon, which the breath of the kham
seen may the next moment cause to roll over him —
when he hears the wild concert of hyenas and jack
als — then these details will depress him with a mighty
and solemn power. For my own part, this was one
of the most meditative nights of my life. Happily,
we had the- expectation of arriving at Sinai on the
following day ; and this fact was a balm for fatigue,
a panacea for wo. —- -
When we awoke, our eyes were greeted by a glo
rious sun, promising a fine, though hot day.
We continued our route through the same plain of
sand for a time, and then again entered one of those
stone wadies of volcanic mountains and granite pali
sades, down tfie sides of which the rays of the sun
stream in cascades of light. We dreaded, in antici
pation, our mid-day halt in such a furnace.
Making, suddenly, a turn in the valley, we all stop
ped with one accord, in mute surprise and admiration.
Mountains the most magnificent in tone and form rose
before us in severe majesty, under a sky of heavenly
blue. This might well be the theatre where was
enacted the stupendous drama of Exodus, These
masses of granite might well be chosen by Jehovah
for His earthly throne ; and in all the world a more

204 the desert.
solemn scene could not have been found for the voice
of the Lord to dictate to Moses the laws that were
to govern His people Israel. In this silent, naked, and
desolate region, where no trace of vegetation exists,
the Israelites were compelled to feel that they could
expect no aid but from Heaven, that they had no
hope but what was centred in God.
In the midst of these primitive scenes, our Arabs, —
admirers, as all uncivflized people are, of the majes
tic works of Nature, — had chosen their country.
This horizon, now spreading out before us, is what
they continually behold. Susceptible as ourselves to
the influence of this superb panorama, and affected,
besides, with the thought of returning to their native
land, they ceased all conversation and noise ; and the
caravan, after the moment's halt into which it had
been surprised, resumed its way in sflence ; while the
dromedaries, quickening their gait of their own ac
cord, showed that they, too, were sensible to the love
of country. After travelling five hours in this splen
did Desert, we perceived, on the other side of a ra
vine, the encampment of the tribe of Oualeb-Saide.
The tents were numerous, and formed a large cir
cle ; some, more elevated than the others, belonged
to the Sheiks: they all stood contiguous to one an
other, and the only entrance into the camp was an
interval between two tents, left in this single case for
that purpose. These tents were not of the same form
as ours. They were composed of long pieces of a
tissue of wool and camels' hair, striped white and
brown, thrown over bamboos, and sustained trans
versely by wooden supports. The ends of this cov
ering, after forming a square dome, fall on each side
to the ground, and are held there by large stones

the desert.

205

placed on them. The tents of the Sheiks were ele
vated on the same plan, except that from a bamboo
placed across the top was suspended a piece of the
tissue, dividing the tent into two apartments.
As soon as the caravan was observed, figures be
gan to emerge from the tents, to reconnoitre : soon
the entire population, having assured themselves that
it was indeed their brethren who approached, rushed
towards us with cries of joy and the same clucking
which we heard from the nuptial procession at Cairo.
The women with their children were in advance,
and we congratulated ourselves on this opportu
nity to see them ; when, of a sudden, they took to
flight. They had discovered that Nazarenes were
in the company. Our Arabs made no effort to pre
vent their retreat, and they precipitated themselves
pell-mell into the camp, and disappeared under their
respective tents like frightened bees flying to their
hives. The old men, warriors, and children alone
remained. We were presented to the patriarchs of the tribe,
who led us to the most sumptuous tent : this was
Toualeb's. Our chief did the honours in a very cour
teous manner, making us sit down with the most dis
tinguished of his brethren. After enjoying for a few
moments the delightful coolness of a shade, we saw
a wooden bowl brought in, fiUed with cream of such
dazzling whiteness that the mere sight of it was re
freshing. I turned towards Abdallah to call his at
tention to this wonderful bowl ; but he answered my
look with an air of disdain, which I attributed to the
contempt that his culinary acquirements, obtained
in the capital, caused him to feel towards such rustic
preparations. 18

206 the desert.
After some ceremonies, which appeared to me to
last forever, so anxious was I to get at the cream,
M. Taylor made up his mind to plunge his hand into
the bowl : he took about a spoonful of the cream,
and carried it to his mouth. I watched him, and
was surprised to see no sign of extraordinary satis
faction in his face at tasting it : nevertheless, he fin
ished, at a second mouthful^ what remained in the
hollow of his hand, with an expression of countenance
which (strangely enough) seemed to me rather that
of a man having entire command of himself, than the
content of a thirsty guest, who has at length found
something wherewith to refresh his longing lips.
Taking advantage of the wise Arab deliberateness
that, on all important occasions, suffers an interval
of a few seconds between each sentence and each
ai'.tion, 1 asked M, Taylor how he liked the Bucolic
beverage. " Why," replied he, with perfect philosophy, " it re
sembles nothing you have ever seen : taste it ; it is
very queer."
This answer gave me some distrust ; but, reassur
ed by the inviting appearance of the bowl, I plunged
in my hand, raised it to my mouth, and swallowed.
I spoke of M. Taj'lor's expression of countenance ; I
will not conjecture what mine was. My surprise was
total ; and, being a far worse diplomatist than my
friend, I betrayed my emotion both by words and
actions. I shouted for water. A gourd full was im
mediately brought. I swallowed every drop, and
still the taste of the! damnable) preparation remained I
I called for more water, part of which I drank, and
with the remainder I rinsed my mouth and gargled
my throat. Abdallah — Abdallah, — on whom at this

the desert. 207
moment my bewildered eyes chanced to alight, was
watching me with the satisfaction I might have ex
pected, after the look I gave him on the entrance of
the bowl.
The dish, as I afterward learned, is made of the
cheese of camel's mflk, oil, and onions cut up in small
bits about the size of a pea : these, with other homo
geneous ingredients, are beaten together ; and the re
sult of the hellish mixture is the poison they set be
fore us. Our repugnance to it was, however, pecu
liarly our own ; for no sooner had Mayer made the
experiment and rejected the dish, than the Arabs fell
upon it, and devoured with delight that which gave
me a disgust to milk itself for the whole journey.
While the first course thus disappeared, I was
busy with my eyes examining the tent, which was
the same as in the days of Abraham, and of which
Ishmael had brought the model from Canaan into
the heart of Arabia Petrsea. As I was attentively
regarding the material of the curtain, I saw the
blade of a poignard pass silently through it. Pres
ently two slender fingers, with their nails painted red,
separated the sides of the incision, and a brilhant
black eye appeared between the fingers. The Arab
women, desirous to behold the Nazarenes without
being themselves seen, and knowing no better meth
od of satisfying their curiosity without openly diso
beying the law, had made this aperture, where eye
succeeded eye every five minutes during the whole
time that we remained in Toualeb's tent.
After the husbands of these dames had made a
thorough finishing of the cheese, onions, and oil, an
enormous plate of rice was introduced. This time I
tasted with extreme caution, and this time there was

208 THE desert.
no need of my so doing. It was simply rice boiled
in water, and had no taste at all.
When the repast was finished, it behooved us to
repay hospitahty with presents. We had brought
with us kerchiefs of gay and varied colours, which
we now distributed among the young Arabs. They
were all quite naked, and each had a little bell sus
pended by a lock of camel's hair around its neck.
Every night, before the tribe seeks repose, the drom
edaries, the sheep, and the children are recalled to
the enclosure r each flock is counted, according to its
respective importance, in the order I have mention
ed ; and if any child is missing from the muster, the
parents seek it, calling it and listening. If the child
make no reply, the tinkling of the bell guides the
searchers, and the strayed fugitive is thus found and
brought back to the camp, which is never closed until
it is well ascertained that not a single head is missing.
Although these children were quite young, they
had great skill in forming extemporaneous draperies
and dresses, with the shawls we gave them. They
roHed them as turbans around their heads, and im
provised a petticoat, or a mantle, aU in good taste.
I sketched some of them who were too much occu
pied with their own glee, to perceive what I was at ;
otherwise, I should not easily have accomplished my
drawings. Our guides, to thank us in behalf of their children,
and, perhaps also, to prolong our halt with their
tribe, wished to add to their cream and rice, the ha-
rouf-machi, or a sheep cooked on the coals. We
stoically refused, although this dish is decidedly the
best of the Arab kitchen. But we were only a few
hours from Sinai, and if we intended to reach it be
fore night, we had no time to spare.

the monastery of SINAI. 209
The adieux between our escort and their tribe,
were exchanged with true Arab dignity. However,
their separation this time was to be short, as our
guides would not be allowed to enter the Monastery,
and must therefore return that same night.
We mounted our dromedaries without farther de
lay, and in half an hour entered the oasis of St, Cath
erine, which leads to the foot of Sinai. The road
was mountainous, rugged, and steep, but we had
nearly reached the goal, and this truth smoothed the
rough places, embellished the route, and softened the
declivities. The sun, too, though consuming, seemed
milder and more supportable than yesterday. Nev
ertheless, this irksome journey continued for two
mortal hours, and we began to experience genuine
physical fatigue, despite the moral consolation of our
anticipated rest.
At length, we came suddenly in view of Mount
Catherine, and arrived at its base. She stands a
. queen above her neighbours. But on the left arises
the majestic Sinai, towering above St. Catherine ;
and on the eastern side of this Holy Mountain, about
a third of the way from its foot, we beheld the Mon
astery ; a strong fortress, built in an irregular quad
rilateral form. At the northern side, a garden de
scends the length of the last hill, joining the moun
tain to the valley ; it is surrounded by wafls of a less
elevation than those that enclose the Monastery, but
they are, nevertheless, sufficiently high to protect the
grounds from a coup-de-main. I need not say that
the verdure of the trees in this garden was most
grateful to our eyes, which for such a tedious time
had rested only on sterility.
Sinai is the culminating point of a chain of moun-
18*

210 THE MONASTERY OP SINAI.
tains, that arises like the back-bone of the Penin
sula, and descends again in a capricious and irregu
lar manner to the Red Sea, where its last granite hil
locks are lost in the golden sand.
As we reached the garden, which rose directly
above our pathway, a very richly dressed 'Arab pass
ed us. He made a salutation ; we returned it ; he
approached Toualeb, with whom he exchanged a
few words, and then continued his course by the
road we came. We ranged along the intermina
ble waUs of the garden, in the shade of which, here
and there, were miserable Bedouins, ragged or na
ked, attracted by the Monastery, and living on the
charity of the monks.
The walls of the Monastery, at length, succeeded
those of the garden. After inexpressible toil and fa
tigue, we had reached the haven which the devotion
of Christians has preserved for those who travel over
the ocean of sand, and the mountains of rock. It
was our Land of Promise ; and I doubt whether the
Israelites desired to reach theirs more fervently than
we did ours.
A glance, however, convinced us that even yet our
journey was not quite finished. We could see a wall
of sufficient height and length, but its sheer and pre
cipitous side was unbroken by any appearance of a
gate. We had proceeded perhaps half-way along
this eastern fa9ade, when Toualeb gave his dromeda
ries the clucking signal to halt. They knelt accord
ingly, first seeking the shade nearest the wafl. We
did not understand the reasons for stopping here ; but
we alighted from our beasts, since Toualeb thought
proper to have it so.
At this instant, a window, sheltered by an awning.

THE MONASTERY OF SINAI. 211
was opened high in the wall over our heads, and a
Greek monk dressed in black, having a round hat
without a brim on his head, cautiously appeared, to
examine what sort of people he had to deal with.
We separated ourselves from the Arabs and ap
proached the window, which is about thirty feet
from the ground. We informed the caloyer that we
were Frenchmen, who had come from Cairo to visit
the Monastery. He asked if we had letters from the
Monastery at Cairo. We exhibited those that we
received from the monks at the Fountains of Moses.
A rope was now lowered, which we found to be the
post-boy of the place : we tied our despatches to it,
it was drawn up, and the monk disappeared with the
letters. We knew nothing of their contents, for, as they
were written in modern Greek, we could not read
them. We were also ignorant of the rank of those
who had given them to us ; and could not be sure
that their recommendation would be sufficiently po
tent to open the entrance of the holy fortress. It may
be imagined that the fifteen minutes, thence ensuing,
were long ones.
What were we to do, if the letters should prove
insufficient, and the monks refuse to receive us ? A
return to Cairo after having come a hundred leagues
across the Desert, to behold only the walls of the
Monastery, however picturesque the said walls might
be, was a very mortifying prospect. We were thus
regarding one another with a pitiful air, when the
window was again opened, and the monks, one by
one, made their observations upon us. We endeav
oured to give our physiognomies a most prepossess
ing appearance, and I suppose we succeeded;: for.

212 THE MONASTERY OF SINAI.
after a short conference, they lowered the rope, to
which, this time, a hook was attached. Our Arabs
unloaded the camels and fastened our luggage in
parcels to the hook, and this being successively drawn
up and lowered, our effects soon disappeared through
the open mouth that was in the middle of the face
of the wall : we, in the meanwhile, not being con
sulted as to the proceeding.
On inquiring of Bechara, I found that this was the
custom of the monks, to guard against any surprise ;
and that our own ascent would take place in the
same manner, by the same conveyance, and to and
through the same hole, the moment that our packa
ges were arranged.
And so it was. The rope descended with a stick
across the end, on which saddle we were to ride up.
Bechara now stated, what we were not before
aware of, that the Monastery has no gate. The
monks have deemed it advisable, for the sake of
greater security, to yield to this inconvenience of
hoisting and letting down everything and everybody.
Therefore, as this conveyance was what the good fa
thers themselves submitted to, we, their guests, must
needs submit, unless they should do for us what the
Tfojans did for the wooden horse ; a thing not very
probable, to say the least.
Our escort could not accompany us into the Mon
astery ; and we now took leave of Toualeb, Becha
ra, and the rest — first agreeing with them, that on
the morning of the eighth following day, they should
return, and re-conduct us in conformity to our con
tract, to Cairo. Whfle I was giving these direc
tions to our guides, M, Taylor had solicited and ob
tained permission for Mohammed and Abdallah to
enter the Monasterv.

THE MONASTERY OF SINAI. 213
From motives, either of friendship or curiosity, our
Arabs would not leave the spot until our ascent was
effected. Mayer, as officer of marines, led the way.
He straddled the stick in the same manner as paint
ers of houses balance themselves in Paris over the
heads of passers-by, and as soon as he signified that
he was ready, he rose with dignity into the air.
When he reached the window, an athletic brother
drew him in and deposited him in a place of securi
ty. We followed with like success ; and Mohammed
and Abdallah finished the ceremony.
As soon as Toualeb saw the last man hoisted, he
gave the signal for departure ; and the whole compa
ny, saluting us with hand and voice, galloped off at
the best speed of their dromedaries.

CHAPTER X.

MOUNT HOREB,  THE ROUTE TO TOR,
We were most kindly received by the good fathers
of the Monastery. The monk who had given us the
letter was no less a personage than the Superior, and
his recommendation was entirely potent.
Our friends conducted us at once to three contigu
ous cells, very clean, and furnished with divans and
carpets. They left us to make our toilette, and sent
water and coffee. Shortly after, a collation was an
nounced. We foflowed the messenger, and found a
table set with rice and milk, eggs, almonds, sweet
meats, cheese of camels' milk, and brandy distilled
from the dates of the Monastery : the latter, when di
luted with water, is a pleasant beverage. But what
went to my very heart in this sumptuous repast was
the fresh bread, real bread, such as we had not seen
for a fortnight.
After the meal was ended, the whole community
entered our refectory. They came to welcome us,
and to put themselves entirely at our disposal. We
asked to examine the Monastery although we were
horribly fatigued ; but our impatience mastered our
weariness. One of the monks stepped forward to
conduct us, and we set out on the instant.
This Monastery which is under the protection of

THE MONASTERY OF SINAI. 215
St. Catherine, resembles a fortified city of the middle
ages. It contains about sixty monks and three hun
dred servants, who are occupied with the labour of
the house, and (what is more considerable) of the
garden. Each one has his specific employment in this
little republic, and I was much struck with its ex
treme order and neatness. Water, that greatest of
luxuries and blessings in Arabia, gushes forth pure
and cool in all directions; and along the white walls
the vine spreads in unequalled luxuriance, rejoicing
the eye with its verdant drapery.
The church is of Roman construction, and dates
from the epoch of the transition from the Byzantine
to the Gothic order. It is a basilica, terminated by a
chapel built at a stUl earlier period, the walls of which
are covered with mosaics in the style of those of
St. Sophia at Constantinople, and of Monte Reale in
Sicfly. The church has a double row of marble
columns surmounted by capitals that are clumsy in
form and fantastical in ornament ; these support semi
circular arches ; above, are small windows near the
ceiling of cedar wood and gold. The embeflishments
of the altar, of profuse and extraordinary richness,
are almost all of Russian origin or form. The lower
part of the walls are covered with marbles that the
monks assured us came from St. Sophia. The gal
lery, which separates the church in two parts, is of
red marble ; a Christ, of colossal size, rises above
it, and what is very odd, the passion for ornament,
that forms the principal feature in the Byzantine
art, has been indulged even in the construction of
the Cross; instead of being quite plain, as the original
necessarily was, it is covered with elaborate and
whimsical carving, much like the corners of picture
frames.

216 THE MONASTERY OF SINAI.
The mosaics of the chapel represent Moses strik
ing the rock; and Moses before the burning bush.
This chapel is built on holy ground, and the altar
rests on the very spot where Moses, while watching
his father-in-law's flocks, came to behold the burning
bush, and heard the voice of God calling him out of
the midst of the bush.
Having examined this ancient chapel in all its de
tails, we passed on to the sacristies and the side-
chapels. The walls are everywhere garnished with
paintings of the (Roman) Latter Empire, wonderfully
strange, yet full of grandeur and sublimity.
On leaving the church we paused to admire the
doors. They are divided into square compartments,
and each panel contains an enamel faultless in design
and in most perfect preservation.
The monks then conducted us to the mosque ; for
the proprietors ofthe Greek Monastery, in token of de
pendence, have been obliged to erect a Turkish edifice
within its sacred enclosures: this is the seal of the ^r-
man which permits them in this Mussulmanic land, to
perform their Christian worship. The monks bade us
remark that it was abandoned and crumbling to decay:
but such as it is, it satisfies Mahometan pride, and
grieves and humiliates these poor cenobites beyond
all expression.
The library, which we saw next, contains a quan
tity of manuscripts that the monks never open; and
their value will not be known untfl some young savant
from Europe shall shut himself up for a year or two
with their dusty pages. Some of them are bound
in wood with silver arabesques. They showed us a
New Testament, which, — if the tradition may be re
lied on, — was written entirely by the Emperor Theo-
dosius ; it is illuminated with the figures of the four

THE MONASTERY OF SINAI. 217
Evangelists, a portrait of the Saviour, and other
paintings representing the most prominent scenes of
the Gospels,
We then visited successively twenty-five small
chapels in the different courts of the Monastery.
They are all remarkable for the richness of their or
nament, and the Byzantine character of the paintings
with which they are filled. Our guide then led us
down a vaulted subterranean passage of gentle de
clivity, and unclosing an iron door introduced us to
the garden.
This garden is a miracle of patient and persever
ing industry. Its entire soil has been brought from
the shores of the Nile on the backs of dromedaries,
and spread on the granite-bed of this mountain ; and
the incredible quantity of mould thus transferred
across the Desert may be imagined, perhaps, when
the reader knows that the soil is of a depth sufficient
for great trees to take root in it and flourish. A per
fect system of irrigation is adopted, the water being
brought from neighbouring or distant heights ; thus en
abling the soil to sustain the consuming ardour of the
sun. By great care and daily and hourly attention,
the most delicate plants are raised and preserved in
this climate of fire, where the sky always seems like
an over-arched plate of heated iron.
It is true, they say, that now, as in former times,
God still speaks to his faithful people by the voice of
miracles. The finest trees and the best fruits that I
have ever seen are the recompense of this inconceiv
able toil, which at the commencement must surely
have expected more from faith than hope. The
grapes, particularly, reminded me of the clusters of
19

218 THE MONASTERY OF SINAI.
Eschol ; a bunch that we broke from the vine where
it grew weighed eighteen pounds.
We continued our walk under balmy orange trees,
and their shade and perfume were inexpressibly deli
cious. Through their leafy branches, — refreshing
dome for travellers who for a time had been shelter
ed only by the curtain of a tent, — we beheld the
white sky, enlivened by a few rays of pink, which
the sun darted back as he was sinking to repose ; and
as the murmur of a spring, gushing from a rock,
greeted our ears, we started involuntarily, lest we
should find it a dream.
At the extremity of this Eden we found Moham
med and Abdallah in animated convei;sation with the
gardener. As we approached, the latter said to us,
" bonjour camarades." These two French words vi
brated on our ears like a distant echo from our native
land. We made haste to answer him in the same
language ; but the gardener's knowledge was confin
ed to these two words. He was a Cossack, who was
at the taking of Paris in 1814 ; and who, during its
occupation by the Allies, had learned some French
phrases ; he had since forgotten all, however, but the
one with which he saluted us. On his return to Rus
sian Tartary, his master, a very zealous Christian of
the Greek church, sent him to the Monastery of Si
nai, where he had been for some ten years.
The night began to close in rapidly,* We return-
+ It is manifest that the preceding description of this Monastery is
the result of some subsequent days' observation. M, Dumas remarks,
on page 208, (while his party were decorating the Arab children with
shawls,) that if they expected to reach the Monastery before night,
they had no time to spare : and all that he saw and said here, could
not possibly have occurred thus at the close ofa day.

MOUNT HOREB. 219
ed by the iron-door which protects the Monastery on
this side from the attacks of the Arabs, and for the
first time in a long while, slept a sleep that no fear of
serpents, hyenas, or jackals could molest.
We arose with the sun on the following day ; for
we were to ascend Mount Sinai, and visit all the pla
ces consecrated by Moses. We set out under the
conduct of a venerable father, — not from the door,
but the window : we bestrid the stick as we had done
the day before ; the capstan turned gently, and in a
few minutes we were standing outside the walls.
The rope was drawn up again, and all communica
tion was once more cut off between the Desert and
the Monastery.
Mount Horeb is a protuberance of Sinai ; and it
so projects itself that the peak of the latter cannot be
seen from the plain below. We went along a ravine
of large regular stones, brought thither by the monks,
which formerly made a very commodious stairway
to the summit of the mountain. But it has been bro
ken up by the rains, and by stones that from time to
time roll down over it into the valley.
About a third of the way up, and where you quit
Mount Horeb to ascend the peak of Sinai, is an arch,
and on its key- stone a cross, to which is attached a
tradition in great credit with the monks.
A Jew having set out from the convent to ascend
the mountain, was hindered by a cross of iron from
proceeding farther than this spot. Whichever way
he turned, it presented itself before him. At length,
terrified by the vision, he fell on his knees and beg
ged the accompanying monk to baptize him. The
holy ceremony was performed on the spot, with wa
ter from the ravine. This miracle gave rise to a cus-

220 MOUNT SINAI.
tom now fallen into disuse. A monk of the Monas
tery was always in pfayer before the door ; and pU-
grims, ere they were permitted to tread hee'dlessly
up the mountain that Moses dared not ascend but
with his naked feet, were made to confess and re
ceive absolution.
During the whole ascent, we saw snakes that hid
themselves at our approach in the fissures of the
rocks ; and also great green lizards. These would
squat themselves like toads, and look at us as we
passed, exhibiting more desire to attack than any in
tention to withdraw. These reptiles are strangely
hideous : their bodies are as transparent as glass, and
their breasts are like those ofthe Sphinx, They look
ed like creatures of fable, or like those of a race
now extinct. We had been advised to provide our
selves with sticks before leaving the Monastery, that
we might act on the defensive with them, as their bite
is very painful and sometimes fatal.
We reached a chapel built on a rock, where the
prophet Elias remained forty days. It is an edifice
of Grecian form, with a square altar in the centre of
the arch. The altar is surrounded by a stone-step.
This little station is ornamented with two or three
paintings. A magnificent cypress stands near it, be
ing the only tree of its kind that has resisted the de
vouring heat of the climate. Three olive trees for
merly grew beside it, but they died and have not been
replaced. From this little table-land, designed by
Nature for a resting-place, the summit of Sinai is dis
tinguishable, together with the church and mosque
that crown it.
The ascent grew more difficult as we proceeded,
but we toiled on with undii#nished zeal. We arriv-

MOUNT SINAI. 221
ed at the rock where Moses, overlooking the plain of
Rephidim, held up his hands towards Heaven during
the battle of Joshua with Amalek.
At last, after a five hours' march, we stood on the
top ofthe mountain, motionless, and entirely absorb
ed by the magnificent panorama beneath us, so hal
lowed by biblical record, and, after a lapse of three
thousand years, still full of poetry and grandeur.
The air was so clear that we could see objects at a
prodigious distance. At the South lay the point of
the Peninsula, terminated by Ras Mahomed, which
loses itself in the sea. Beyond this, in the bosom of
the waters, are the Isles of the Pirates, white and in
distinct like floating vapours. On our right lay the
mountains of Africa ; on our left, the plains of Arabia
Deserta ; beneath our feet, the plain of Rephidim ;
and all around us, a chaos of mountains heaped to
gether at the base of the giant that overtops them,
and resembling, in the distance, a sea of granite with
immoveable waves.
When we had satisfied ourselves with the vast gen
eral survey, we inspected the details. Here, on the
summit where we were now standing, occurred the
memorable interview between God and Moses, at the
, conclusion of which the august Lawgiver descended
to the people with light shining from his face.
We read aloud from the Bible the chapter descri
bing these events, while we were seated in the very
cleft where Moses was hidden when Jehovah mani
fested to him His glory. The caloyer added to the
scriptural account, the tradition of his brethren, that
Moses' terror on beholding this manifestation was so
great that the trembling of his head caused certain
indentations pointed out in the rock.
19*

222 MOUNT SINAI.
The Mussulmans, on their part, jealous of this apo
cryphal and absurd tradition, and determined not to
be outdone by it, oppose legend to legend, and mira
cle to miracle. Twenty yards from the rock of Moses
is that of Mahomet. The prophet, on a visit to this
holy mountain, had made his devoirs and prepared to
descend : as his camel turned, it placed its foot, and
left the print thereof, on a granite slab.
Thus the two religions eternally jostle ea;ch other ;
each too powerful to be destroyed by, and too weak
not to be jealous of, its rival.
The chapel and the mosque rising together is an
other illustration of this. Both are going to decay, and
neither Christian nor Arab thinks of repairing them.
But the ex voto offerings they contain, show that the
pilgrims of the respective faiths still cherish their sanc
tity, and still come to adore, one the Son of God, the
other, the Prophet of Allah. Popular tradition attri
butes the founding of the chapel to St. Helena ; but
the style of its architecture, being of a more recent
date, disproves, for once, a tradition.
Our ascent up this mountain gave us an appetite
to which we had long been strangers. The suffo
cating heat of the plain was succeeded, as we ad
vanced, first by the temperature of Provence, and
then by the fresh atmosphere of Normandy, Fortu
nately, our worthy guide had anticipated this reaction,
and brought with him a collation, now speedily pre
pared and more speedily eaten. On rising from the
rock, against which I leaned while discussing this
lunch, I saw the name of Miss Bennet deeply inscri
bed on it. Miss Bennet is probably the first and
only European woman who has visited and ascended
Mount Sinai.

MOUNT SINAI. 223
We descended the western side of the mountain,
which is covered with the plant that produces manna :
this is one of the treasures of Sinai. The monks
gather it for sale ; and it has the reputation of being
superior to that of Egypt or Sicfly.
As we reached the warm regions, we again en
countered the lizards and snakes. They lifted up
their great heads, astonished at our impertinently in
vading their solitude and repose. We were obliged
to proceed with extreme caution ; for the way was
difficult, and the plants, growing as high as our knees,
might contain many a deadly foe in ambush. We
sounded and beat the ground with our sticks as we
went on. This task, however, did not prevent M.
Taylor from making a collection of rare plants as he
proceeded, which he has since presented to the Bo
tanical Garden of Montpellier.
At the foot of Sinai, in the vafley which separates
it from Mount St. Catherine, we came to the rock
that Moses struck when the children of Israel mur
mured for water. It is a granite block, nearly twelve
feet high, in the form of a pentagonal prism, and, if
overthrown, could rest on one of its sides. There are
deep traces in it, like perpendicular gutters, which
appear to have been worn by the flowing of water.
There are also five deep perforations, entering the
rock horizontally, and placed perpendicularly over
each other ; these must be the miraculous mouths by
which the Lord answered His people.*
* The statements of M. Dumas need no attestation of mere belief
on the part of his self-constituted translator ; his reputation is a suffi
cient guarantee, for his veracity, and his statements are rich in intrinsic
evidence of their own truth. I will remark, however, that what is here
said of this rock is abundantly corroborated by many previous travel-

224 mount' horeb.
The rock of Horeb, — this is the name given to it
by the Lord, — seems to have been detached from its
original resting-place by volcanic action, and might
have fallen to the bottom of the valley, had not the
level spot where it now lies arrested its progress.
At a short distance from the rock, the monks have
built a small chapel and planted a garden supplied
with soil from the Monastery, At a certain season
of the year, a monk and a few servants come here to
enjoy the pleasures of the country.
The chapel is a sorry affair ; its walls are very
much cracked. It contains a few small Greek pic
tures ; some ofthem are as old as 1500. They all
have a character of great simplicity, and that fine ex
pression which the Byzantine painters and workers
in mosaic have so uniformly given to the face of the
Saviour.
lers, who have both described and sketched it. Thomas Shaw, D.D.
in 1738, and Richard Pococke, LL.D. in 1750, published books of
travels through these countries, and although they dilFered in some of
their descriptions, and maintained a controversy with each other on
such differences, their works are considered as standard authorities
for general matters of fact. They concur with each other, and fully
confirm the observations of M. Dumas, upon this rock. The follow
ing quotation is compiled from their remarks. "The stone is a large
mass of red granite, twelve feet in height, ten in width, and about fif
teen in length. The traces ofthe miracle are distinct. The holes and
channels could have been produced by no other cause than the burst
ing forth and running of water. JVo art could have achieved a task so
difficult, an imitation so perfect, even if human ingenuity could devise
a reasonable motive for attempting such an undertaking in such a
place." And I would add, that the identity of this rock being thus es
tablished, and the marks upon it being thus verified as — so to speak —
the finger-prints of Jehovah ; it may be regarded as quite the most in
teresting and imposing object in the physical world. These traces of
the miracle are to the rock what an actual and certified foot-print of
the Saviour would be to the soil of Gethsemane or Calvary; a con
necting link between the locality and Him whose presence hallowed it.

MOUNT SINAI. 225
Quitting the chapel and rock, and describing a
semi-circle at the foot of the mountain to regain its
eastern declivity, the monk pointed out the spot where
the Israelites worshipped the golden calf, and where
Moses, coming down from the Mount, broke the ta
bles of the Law.
Never before had I fully appreciated the mighty
power of tradition. Who could have the courage to
live under this devouring sun, to clamber up these
rent peaks, to plunge into these barren valleys bla
zing with hght and heat — but to meditate amid
the scenes where mighty events have been accom
plished ? The present world, a gilded upstart with
out ancestors and without remembrances, belongs to
commerce : the old world, with its granite hiero
glyphics and biblical monuments, is the inheritance
of poetry.
We returned to the Monastery, having passed a
most toilsome day. After supper, our hosts brought
us the Album in which every traveller who comes
here inscribes his name. The last two Frenchmen
who had been entertained at the Monastery, were
the Count Alexandre de Laborde and the Viscount
Leon de Laborde, his son. Had they arrived a few
months later, or we a few months sooner, we, old ac
quaintances of the narrow circles of Paris, should
have met in the vast solitudes of the Desert.
M. Leon de Laborde (who has since published a
magnificent work on Arabia Petroea) was, at this mo
ment, completing his scientific labours amid the val
leys of the Peninsula of Sinai. A person must have
travelled in this burning climate, where all man's
physical force is scarcely sufficient to resist the ac
tion ofthe sun, to comprehend the sum of courage

226 THE MONASTERY OF SINAI.
and devotion requisite to the execution of such a
work. The ruins of Petra, which he was the first
to sketch : his chart of Arabia Petroea, the only com
plete one extant, are monuments of what the will of
man can effect.
Imagine what it must be to add to a journey of
twelve consecutive hours on a camel, the fatigue of
dismounting fifty times from your high seat that you
may take the different points of view of each moun
tain, and the magnetic directions at each turn of a
valley. The dromedary, separated from the cara
van by these repeated halts, becomes furious, and re
fuses to kneel ; and then ensues a battle between
man and beast, in which, indeed, man triumphs, but
with the most fatiguing and dangerous efforts.
There is, therefore, apart from the intrinsic merit
of the work, {now appreciated by men of science
and learning, as well as by men of the world,)
another and a greater merit, more easily estimated
by afl, — that of condemning one's self to paiss three
years away from friends, exposed to all dangers, a
prey to all necessities, that Science, the coldest and
most ungrateful of mistresses, may take one addition
al step towards perfection.
It was a real grief to us not to meet our young fel
low-countryman during our journey ; but, absent from
our sight, he was present to our thoughts, and often
dwelt upon in our conversation.
The proportion of travellers to Mount Sinai from
the different parts of the world, is a curious mat
ter for examination. Among the names of visiters
inscribed in the Album, there were one American,*
twenty-two Frenchmen, and three or four thousand
?This was in 1830, since which period this Album has been en-

THE MONASTERY OF SINAI. 227
English, of whom, as I said before, one was an Eng
lish woman.
The next morning an Arab was announced who
wished to speak with us. I ran to the window, and
saw my friend Bechara. He came to take our or
ders about departure. We now arranged it definite
ly for the fourth day hence, and Bechara returned
to his tribe.
These four days were occupied in drawing, see
ing, and talking. The Monastery, within and with
out its wafls, its legends, and all things thereunto
appertaining, were transferred by sketches or notes
to my travelling book. Indeed, these four days were
the busiest and the happiest of my life. However,
one must have tasted the contemplative existence
of oriental countries, to understand the sort of moral
vertigo that can induce a man to leave society for
solitude. To those who have visited Thebes and
Arabia, these monks of the Desert, though powerful
in eloquence, are not so much the objects of wonder
for their ascetic lives.
On the eve of our departure, the good fathers oc
cupied themselves entirely in making preparation for
our journey. Each one wished to add some delica
cy to our solid provisions : one brought oranges ; an
other, raisins ; a third, date-brandy. In exchange,
we gave them the sugar purchased in Cairo express
ly for their use, and were gratified to find that this
present was, — as we were assured it would be, —
the most acceptable we could have brought. The
riched by the name of an American, whose enterprise as a travelhr,
and whose talents as a writer, have invested these countries with an
interest and a charm previously unknown in the United States : I
need not say that that name is John L. Stephens,

228 THE MONASTERY OF SINAI.
accession to our dainties in some measure reconciled
Abdallah and Mohammed to our departing so soon :
they had fallen in admirably with the vegetative life
of the cloister, and would have been quite contented
to remain, were the monks disposed to allow them so
to do. The servants had done them the honours in
the kitchen ; and notwithstanding the difference of
their creeds, they were the best friends in the world.
The next morning, at five, we were unexpectedly
awakened by the shouts of Arabs. This excessive
punctuality was incomprehensible, the hour of noon
having been specifically fixed upon. We ran to the
window, and there our astonishment increased. We
saw, indeed, the right number of men ; but Toualeb
the chief, Araballah the warrior, Bechara the histo
rian, vvere not among them. I missed the latter es
pecially, and called Mohammed to inquire the mean
ing of this change of persons and time.
The new chief answered that our Arabs, so long
absent from their tribe and fatigued by their journey,
had been detained by their wives : they therefore
sent to a neighbouring tribe to arrange the affair with
them ; their proposals had been canvassed and ac
cepted ; and, in virtue of all this, the new escort were
ready to carry us on our journey. The sheik fur
ther informed us, that we should find in him the same
courage, compliance, and zeal, as in our former
friends ; that the price for conveying us was un
changed ; and that when we arrived at Cairo, we
were to pay him the whole sum ; which, on his re
turn, the two tribes, who are sons of the same De
sert, would divide like brothers.
Great was our astonishment when Mohammed
translated this speech. Besides the mortification of

THE ROUTE TO TOR. 229
finding ourselves so soon forgotten by our old friends,
we were provoked at being barterell like merchan
dise by a parcel of Arabs. What especially surpri
sed us was, that not a single deputy from the old tribe
accompanied the new escort to apprize us of the ar
rangement. The chief replied- to this point, that despite all his
solicitations for the company of some one of the for
mer caravan, in order to establish his integrity to our
satisfaction, each one had successively refused to
come ; for the tribe of Oualeb-Saide was a warrior
tribe, and they felt ashamed to acknowledge their
compliance with the entreaties of their women : be
sides, were they to see us, they might be unable to
resist our importunities ; or, if they did resist, they
would seem to have received our friendship and
kindness with ungrateful hearts. This latter feeling,
the orator added, was so real and powerful with
them, that they had actually absented themselves
from their tribe untU we were departed, lest we
should overcome them by appeals to their honour and
loyalty. All this was said with a tone of such perfect fair
ness and sincerity, that in spite of the apparent im
probability of the whole, we were forced to believe
it. The sheik readily saw the irresolution of our
countenances ; and, without seeming to feel any un
due interest in the matter, remarked, that if we were
ready to go, we had better take advantage of the
comparative coolness of the morning. Besides, by
starting at once, we should be able to reach before
night a halting-place near a delightful spring. If, on
the contrary, we waited untfl noon, as we proposed,
we could have no water but what we took with us.
20

230

THE ROUTE TO TOR.

This was assafling us at our vulnerable point. We,
in compliance, took leave of our good monks, had our
luggage lowered, and ourselves followed it, half per
suaded, half doubting. As for Mohammed and Ab
dallah, they had no choice between the escorts.
The result of our first glance at the new tribe,
whether from prejudice or otherwise, was unfavour
able to them. The sheik did not appear to exercise
the authority, at once paternal and absolute, that was
Toualeb's great recommendation. We looked around
in vain for a firm and honest face like Araballah's, or
a shrewd and laughing one like Bechara's. The
dromedaries, too, were smaller and leaner.
With such observations, rather felt than expressed,
we mounted our beasts ; and our new conductor,
Mohammed-Abou-Mansour, alias Mahomet, Father
of Victory, immediately gave the signal by setting
out on a gallop. Our dromedaries followed ; and we
scarcely had time to turn and make our last adieux
to the worthy monks, before we were quite beyond
the reach of their voices.
We took a southerly direction towards Tor, A
magnificent valley lay before us, and we descended
into it with the rapidity of rolling stones. The diffi
culties of the road increased as we advanced ; and
we were forced, notwithstanding the repugnance of
our leader, to relax somewhat from the dizzying
quickness of our motion ; but this was not effected
until the expression of our wishes had changed to a
command. We then took a gait which, moderate as
it seemed in comparison with the preceding one,
promised to carry us three leagues an hour.
Towards the middle of the day, we attained the
summit of a mountain, whence, for the last time, we

THE ROUTE TO TOR. 231
had a sight of the Monastery. At this immense dis
tance, the white and green of its walls and gardens
stood out clearly against the violet back ground of the
mountain. During the short halt which I here with great dif
ficulty obtained from the sheik, I thought I saw, at
the opposite extremity of the road we had passed,
some dark and moving specks.
I pointed them out to Abou-Mansour, who ex
claimed that he recognised those specks as men, and
men belonging to a hostile tribe. Saying this, he
again started his dromedary on a gallop, and ours,
faithful to the sign, unhesitatingly followed at the
same pace. We soon passed the valley, and entered
the dry-bed of a former water-course, down which
we flew with the rapidity of an avalanche.
This infernal race had now continued for seven
mortal hours, and nothing indicated the least appear
ance of a halt, when, suddenly, we heard a shout in
the rear.
We turned ; and, covered with dust, his turban
loose, his dress in the last disorder, springing for
ward at the top of his dromedary's speed — we saw
Araballah I
At sight of him, Abou-Mansour endeavoured to in
crease our speed ; but we declared that we would
not follow him without an explanation, and that if
our camels, instigated by his, refused to stop, we
would immediately shoot them through the head
with our pistols. He was, of course, compelled to
halt. In a few moments Araballah, upsetting everything
that opposed his impetuosity, was at our side. He
first saluted us by signs, signifying his joy at see-

232 THE ROUTE TO TOR.
ing us : then, dashing up to Abou-Mansour, who had
kept aloof; he addressed him briefly in a sharp, harsh
tone, his eyes flashing fire as he spoke.
The shei¥s sole reply, was a new signal for start
ing. Araballah endeavoured to seize his arm, but
Abou eluded him, and repeated the sign.
Araballah then rushed to the front of the caravan,
and turning his animal transversely on the road,
completely barred the passage.
The sheik put his hand to his gun ; the Arabs
brandished their lances ; when we, seeing the mo
ment for us to make a demonstration had arrived,
drew our pistols and placed ourselves by the side of
Araballah. Although we were but four men against
his fourteen, Abou-Mansour hesitated.
At this instant, new shouts were heard ; and Tou
aleb and Bechara came down the ravine as if their
dromedaries had wings. This reinforcement confirm
ed our resolution, and caused that of the adversa
ries to waver. Besides, the remainder of Toualeb's
men began to appear on the summit of the hill ; so
that we, in addition to the right of the question, were
to have the majority.
Bechara and Toualeb, enveloped in their white
bournous, came flying like phantoms, passed in front
of us, saying, " Peace !" and pushed towards Abou-
Mansour. The Arabs came forward to the aid of
their chief, who, finding himself wefl sustained, began
to elevate his voice. The remainder of Toualeb's
men now arrived, vociferating and threatening ; each
brandished his spear or gun.
We saw that a conflict was inevitable, unless some
movement of ours could prevent it, and we threw
ourselves into the midst of the melee, endeavouring

THE ROUTE TO TOR. 233
to overpower the clatter with our voices. At first,
we only augmented the confusion ; but at length the
commands of M. Taylor began to, be heard and his
authority to be recognised.
He ordered every one to be silent ; then, separa
ting our former friends from our new foes, he bade
the one walk on our right and the other on our left,
deferring all explanation until the evening halt ; and
promising then to render justice where it was due.
Toualeb requested us to dismount the dromeda
ries on which we rode, and resume our former seats;
but M, Taylor knew that this operation, besides re
tarding us, would just apply the spark to the powder.
In the present exasperated state of the parties, a
drop of blood shed, a single blow struck, would have
rendered compromise impossible. He answered,
therefore, that we would dismount at the halting
place ; and, in a firm voice, renewed the order to
proceed. Friend and foe obeyed ; and the two- bands, dispo
sed on our right and left, went along quietly under
an atrocious sun, but at a more agreeable gait. The
two sheiks led the caravan ; Abou-Mansour, with a
confused, yet threatening air ; Toualeb, with a lofty
and smiling countenance, Bechara took his place
at my side, and told me in his usual patois, half Ara
bic, half French, how the affair, on their part, hap
pened. At the appointed hour, (eleven o'clock,) Toualeb
and his men arrived at the Monastery, and asked for
the travellers. The monks informed him that we
had departed in the morning with Abou-Mansour,
who represented himself as Toualeb's envoy, and
that we had taken the road to Tor, On hearing this,
20*

234 THE ROUTE TO TOR.
. the whole band rushed forward in pursuit, the fleet
est dromedaries of course out-speeding the others,
but all sustaining their reputation for swiftness. The
result I already knew.
The good fellow told this with an eagerness and
joy, which much pleased me. I promised him, on
my own account, that in the morning I would take
possession ofmy old haghin ; for I must own, — and
this is the proper place to make the confession, — that
my new camel had convinced me of my precipitan
cy in complaining of the gait of the old one. I made
my apology to Bechara, and begged him to commu
nicate it to the injured animal.
When these explanations were over, Bechara, who
had a holy horror of silence, took up a subject alto
gether pastoral. He told me of the happy days he
had passed with his tribe and family. The heart of
the Arab is always young, and always vividly alive
to natural emotions.
Once launched on the sea of sentiment, Bechara
related, from beginning to end, the history of his love.
Incidents are rare under the tent, and have varied but
little since the time of Jacob and Rachel. The youfig
Arab who is in love must signalize himself in some
excursion against a neighbouring tribe, either by his
courage or his dexterity, according as Nature has en
dowed him with the strength of the lion or the cun
ning of the serpent. The latter quality was Bechara's
portion. But if the physical force of Araballah was
of more importance in war than Bechara's intellectual
strength ; in time of peace Bechara's powers were of
no mean value. It was by eloquence and poetry that
he found the way to his Rachel's heart. He was just
giving me her descriptive portrait — comparing her

THE ROUTE TO TOR. 235
eyes to the gazelle's, her suppleness to the palm-tree —
when my dromedary, without giving me any notice of
his intention, put his head between his legs and began
to execute the preliminaries of a somerset. I threw
myself to one side, the animal came to the ground, and
began to stretch himself most voluptuously. Luckfly
for me, he chose to recline on the side that I had just
abandoned ; otherwise, I should have been put under
press. Bechara was on the ground as soon as I ; but I
was on my feet as soon as he ; so that he found me
safe and sound, but rather astonished ; as a man has
a right to be, when such an adventure occurs to him
for the first time. I learned that this sort of amuse
ment, in which my dromedary was still indulging,
was a facetiousness common to its species ; its way
of laughing, in short. Bechara assured me that my
fall was ofthe skilfuUest : I had acquitted myself like
an Arab, and even he who boasted of being my riding-
master, could not have done better.
I was modestly receiving these congratulations,
when Toualeb came up to profit by the accident.
He insisted that I should mount my old haghin, which,
being better trained, was incapable of such a misde
meanour. I followed his advice with great pleasure,
and once more took my original seat ; and, at the first
step of the dromedary, I recognised my old saddle,
so well padded on the wrong side.
At length we arrived at the foot of the mountains,
where we were to encamp. The two sheiks clucked
to their dromedaries, which, partaking the enmity of
their masters, knelt without approaching each other.
The Arabs, however, mingled together to pitch our
tent, neither party choosing to relinquish its real or

236 THE ROUTE TO TOR.
imaginary rights. Abdallah immediately resumed his
functions, devoting himself to the important business
of supper ; while we formed ourselves into a court to
try the adventure of the morning.
Toualeb, as plaintiff, opened the case. He declared
that on the preceding day he had received a commu
nication from the Father of Victory, to the effect that
we should delay our departure for three or four days,
not having yet accomplished the objects of our visit
to the Monastery. The ballad was complete, saving
and excepting one small hole : it appeared strange
that in the place of a servant from the Monastery, —
a natural messenger on such an errand, — an Arab of
a tribe notorious for its want of probity, should have
been selected to bear fhe information. Toualeb,
therefore, thanked the man for his trouble ; determin
ing, nevertheless, to come for us with his escort at
the appointed time. It has already appeared that
we, less cunning than Toualeb, suffered ourselves to
be stolen like three bales of merchandise. Toualeb
and his men approached the Monastery with some
presentiment of the truth; and they no sooner had
their fears confirmed than they bounded off in pur
suit ; and as their dromedaries were larger and fleeter
than those we mounted, they overtook us in the man
ner stated.
The accused arose in turn ; evidently embarrassed
by his position, notwithstanding his Arab cunning and
readiness. "I used stratagem," said he, "and I was wrong,
for what I took was my right. The traveller belongs
to no particular tribe ; and, as the tribes are friends,
they ought all to enjoy equal privileges. If one alone
conducted traveUers, the others would starve to death.

THE ROUTE TO TOR. 237
As Toualeb brought you hither, it was my right to take
you back. What I performed by cunning, I could
have accomplished by force. My warriors are nu
merous and brave ; my own courage is incontestable.
From Suez to Ras-Mohamed my name has an echo
in all the waddies, and there is not a tribe that does
not know Mohammed-Abou-Mansour."
This reasoning, weak as it seemed to us, had force
in the estimation of the Arabs, for Bechara replied to
the Father of Victory. His speech was so rapid, glided
through so many windings, entangled the discussion to
such a degree, and gave rise to such an animated re
joinder from the opposite party, that M. Taylor rose
at once, imposed silence, and declared that he should
recognise only Toualeb and his companions for our
guide and escort. The hostages, awaiting, at Cairo,
our return, and who were to answer for us, head for
head, were of the tribe of Oualeb-Saide, and it was
not to be thought of that their lives should depend on
the courage, discretion, and fidelity of this stranger
tribe ; besides, the party originally sustaining the risk
of our safe conduct was entitled to the exclusive bene
fit of its performance. Consequently, he would have
nothing to do with Mohammed-Abou-Mansour, Father
of Victory as he was ; and the chicanery he had prac
tised on us was an inexcusable outrage.
Our interpreter translated the decision, which was
listened to by both parties attentively and submis
sively. As soon as it was ended, Bechara, to our
great astonishment, took the antagonist chief aside ;
they conferred a few moments, and returned in per
fect harmony. They announced that the matter was
reconciled, and that both of the tribes would accom
pany us ; a double escort was not too much for per-

238 THE ROUTE TO TOR.
sons so distinguished as ourselves, and the men who
had deceived us would be our guard of honour.
We now supped and began to think of repose. We
had special need of it. Our sojourn at the Monas
tery had disaccustomed us to the dromedary's back,
and we had gone from Scylla to Charybdis when we
mounted the haghins of the Father of Victory.

CHAPTER XI.

THE KHAMSEEN.  THE GOVERNOR OF SUEZ.
The next day we continued our course in the same
direction; that is, descending towards the sea. We
had for a long time seen Tor on our left ; but as we
approached, the city seemed so insignificant, that we
determined- not to lose time by visiting it. We there
fore struck off to the right, and after an hour's ride
over the sifted sand of the shores of the Red Sea,
reached the huountains. We toiled patiently on, and
arrived towards evening at a delightful waddy, cafled
the valley of Gardens. Palm-trees and sycamores in
great abundance were here, overshadowing a spring
of pure and fresh water.
The night was delicious, and we had around us in
abundance those treasures of which the Desert is usu
ally so parsimonious, — water and shade. We awoke
in the morning refreshed and invigorated, and set out
in the most happy frame of mind.
At the moment of our departure, we observed the
Arabs pointing out to each other some red lines that
streaked the eastern horizon ; they seemed, however,
not to regard them as of much importance, and we
soon forgot what at first excited our apprehension.
But, on entering the waddy Pharan, we felt a few

240 the KHAMSEEN.
sharp gusts of wind like the feverish breath of the
Desert. The heat soon became insupportable. The sand,
lifted up by an imperceptible breeze that was like a
vapour rising from the earth, enveloped us in a cloud
that burned our eyes, and penetrated our noses and
throats at every respiration. The Arabs, contrary
to their wont, seemed to feel equally with ourselves
an inconvenience to which they must have been ac
customed : they exchanged a few words, and the re
mains of the last night's enmity disappeared in what
now seemed a feeling of common danger. The two
tribes mingled together, and the dromedaries sought
one another, galloping with perturbation and stretch
ing out their heads in such a manner that the nether
lip brushed the sand.
Occasionally they started as if the ground burned
their feet, when Toualeb would say, " take care !" and
the Arabs repeated the warning, though, for our own
parts, we did not understand the exact nature of the
danger. I went to Bechara, my unfailing counseHor, to ask
whence came this uneasiness, which had so stricken
man and beast : but the time for conversation was
past, Bechara, in place of a reply, silently drew his
Inantle over his shoulders and head, in such a manner
as to cover all his face excepting his eyes. I therefore
did the same ; and, turning back, saw that every one
had followed the example, A quarter of an hour
elapsed, and there was no occasion to make or to an
swer inquiries : Franks as well as Arabs knew the
truth. The Desert was warning us by all its signs,
and speaking to us in all its voices : it was the Kham
seen !

the khamseen. 241
To preserve a regular course was impossible : the
sand was as a wall between us and the horizon.
Each moment our Arabs, whose eyes could not pen
etrate the veil of flame, hesitated and betrayed their
irresolution. The tempest was fast gathering strength :
the Desert became more and more billowy: we
plunged into the troughs of the sand, and then sur
mounted the burning crests ofthe waves, as a skilful
swimmer would do in a stormy sea. Notwithstand
ing all our precautions, we breathed as much sand as
air ; our tongues were swollen in our mouths ; our
eyes grew haggard and bloodshot ; and our breath
ing, loud and choked as the death-rattle, revealed to
each and all the intensity of our sufferings.
I had before now found myself in front of danger,
but never until this moment did I experience my pres
ent sensations : they must somewhat have resembled
those of a drowning man, lost on a plank in the midst
of a tempestuous ocean. We flew along like mad,
not knowing where, and more and more rapidly and
obscurely ; for the clouds of powder became every
instant more intense and scorching.
At last Toualeb uttered a piercing cry : it was an
order to halt. The two chiefs with Bechara and
Araballah assembled together in councfl. They were
the most experienced pilots of this treacherous sea.
Each gave his opinion and advice in turn, and not
withstanding our perilous situation, or perhaps on ac
count of the very extremity of the case, each spoke
with deliberation and solemn slowness. During the
halt the billows of sand still increased ; and now
Toualeb, summing up the opinions, extended his arm
towards the south-west, and re-commenced the fran
tic race ; but this time we went without turn or hesi-
21

i842 the khamseen.
tancy, following the lead of the sheiks, who, in con
sideration of the graveness of the emergency, took
upon themselves the conduct of the caravan. We
were evidently going towards a mark ; but what
mark, we had no opportunity to ascertain : we knew
only that if we missed it, we should be lost.
The Desert was imposing and gloomy. It seemed
to be alive, — to palpitate, — to smoke to its very en
trails. The transition we had undergone was rapid,
singular, and appalling. We no longer had the oasis
of yesterday, the repose under the palm-trees, the
sleep lulled by the murmur of the fountain : but, in
their place, the burning sand ; the harsh jolting of
the camels ; thirst that was consuming, inhuman,
maddening; thirst which makes the blood boil, —
which fixes the eye, and shows to the parching wretch
lakes — islands — trees — fountains — shade — wa
ter, water, water ! ! I was a prey to frenzy, to a
dream, to an endless delirium, which followed all the
wanderings of a fevered imagination. Now and then
our dromedaries would drop down, and thrust their
heads into the heated sand to find an instant of com
parative coolness beneath the surface ; then, rising,
they continued their impetuous course, feverish and
panting like ourselves. I cannot tell how often these
falls occurred, nor how we escaped being crushed by
the animals, or thrown and buried in the sand : I
know only that the instant they were down, Toualeb,
Bechara, and Araballah were by our sides, aiding us,
but mute as spectres ; in one more hour I am con
vinced we should all have been overwhelmed.
But suddenly a gust of wind passed by and clear
ed the horizon, as the curtain of a theatre is raised
before one's eyes.

the khamseen. 243
" The Mokatteb !" shouted Toualeb.
" The Mokatteb !" responded all the Arabs.
The curtain fell in an instant ; the tempest resumed
its fury ; the whole atmosphere was again shrouded
in impenetrable gloom : but God, to give us strength
and to encourage our hope, had revealed to our sight
what appeared to be the object of our pursuit.
We repeated the word mechanically, " Mokatteb I
Mokatteb !" ignorant of its precise meaning, but sur-
misinor, from the tone and manner of its announce-
ment, that it was rest, — safety, — life I
In five minutes we were crawling, like serpents,
into a deep, dark cave. The entrance was narrow,
admitting but little light and heat. Disregarding all
thought of our tent, our carpets, and our food, we
threw ourselves down pefl-mell, victims to a delirious
torpor, half way between sleep and a raging fever :
and, without speaking, without moving, we remained
there until the following morning, prostrate on our
faces, like statues fallen from their pedestals.
The tempest continued, and we heard and shud
dered at its howling. By degrees it began to de
crease. Towards the middle of the day it had nearly
expended its fury ; and it, in turn, was now in the
death-struggle. For thirty hours we had eaten no
thing ; hunger brought us back to life : our thirst had
not ceased for an instant. Abdallah arose and made
preparations for breakfast. The Arabs, meanwhile,
searched every cranny of the cavern for a spring, but
in vain : we were obliged to content ourselves with
the poison of our goat-skins.
Sadly and heedlessly we made our meagre repast
of rice and dates, when Mohammed entered with
the pitiful air that he always assumed when he had a

2^44 RETURN TO SUEZ.
request to make. The Arabs, according to their laud
able custom, had brought no provisions, and the es
cort was doubled. We divided with thirty the break
fast which Abdallah had served for three ; though,
probably foreseeing the upshot, he may in a manner
have provided for the emergency. Each Arab re
ceived his handful of rice and a date : it is true, we
did not eat much more.
The wind changed on the third day ; and although
the appearance of the sky was unpromising, we left
the cave of Mokatteb ; for, with the accession of
mouths and the decrease of provisions, we could not
loiter with safety.
When we emerged from the darkness, we started
with affright at each other's appearance. We were
like spectres. Three days of suffering were deeply
traced on our faces ; our eyes were dull and glassy ;
our skin was dry ; our breathing short ; our whole
frame bent. We were near the sea, and our Arabs
ran to it and filled their mouths : they returned and
ejected the water into the nostrils of the dromeda
ries. This process immediately and completely re
vived them. I had a great desire to bathe ; but
dared not, lest I should be unable to resist the im
pulse to drink. Yet, however salt the water of the
sea might be, it seemed impossible that it could ex
ceed in offensiveness the liquid in our goat-skins.
Towards evening our Arabs discovered a well.
As they feared we should drink its cold water too
freely, after our long abstinence and the intense heat
of the day, they pitched our tent at a distance from
the spot, and in a few moments brought our gourds
full. It was a great luxury, and gave us an appetite
for our supper. Indeed it seemed to have had a like

RETURN TO SUEZ. 245
tonic effect on the Arabs, for during the night they
stole and demolished our sugar, and what remained
of our mich-mich. As for the dates, they had all dis
appeared in the cave of Mokatteb.
We were not aware of the defalcation until the
next morning at breakfast, when Abdallah served no
thing but raisins and coffee, with his infamous cakes,
which we never ate. We called for something more,
and he then confessed the truth.
The happiness we felt in having escaped from great
danger, and the certainty that the wants of the men
must have been specially urgent to induce such a
theft, caused us to treat the offenders with less sever
ity than they really deserved, and less than, under dif
ferent circumstances, they would have experienced.
Our indulgence brought its legitimate fruits. That
evening, having shared with us the little remnant of
rice, they finished the coffee and raisins.
The next morning we set out with glorious weath
er ; Toualeb took the lead, and all started off on a
gallop. For six hours we went at the top of our
speed, without understanding the reason. Towards
the middle of the day we welcomed with some sur
prise the appearance of the Fountains of Moses,
where we soon came to a halt. The dromedaries
knelt without the signal ; and the Arabs proceeded
to pitch our tent with an alacrity that I had not be
fore remarked. In five minutes, our long race and
their great promptitude and complaisance were ex
plained ; — they had devoured our whole stock of
food, and we had nothing to eat. In the emergency,
we resolved to condescend to the cakes of flour
which we. had uniformly rejected and despised. But
it did so happen, that our contemptuous treatment of
21*

246 RETURN TO SUEZ.
these cakes had not escaped our Arabs' observation ;
and, as the flour was likely to be wasted, they had
incontinently eaten that to save it.
In most situations there is some consolation left;
some corner of hope where one can hide from de
spair. We were in the Desert, without food: but
we had water in abundance, and could we urge our
dromedaries to a speed that should place us on the
shore of the Red Sea at the right hour for crossing
its bed, we might expect to sleep in Suez with full
stomachs. There was no time to bring our Arabs to account
for this second outrage : there was no leisure for
words on any subject. We were instantly in the
saddle, and once more flying for life. Our dromeda
ries seemed to be made of steel, and, like the sun of
Louis XIV. gathered strength as they moved onward.
At length, exhausted and breathless, we arrived at
the ford : our evil star predominated ; we were too
late : the tide was up.
Our situation, now, was by no means couleur de
rose ; for here we had not even water to drink.
We confidently expected to reach the shore in sea
son for the ebb-tide ; and, assured of this result by
the Arabs, who were fearful of disheartening us,
we did not wait to fill our goat-skins : we were
therefore literally dying of hunger and thirst. If the
burning intensity of a meridian sun had been super
added to our trials, we should have gone mad to a
certainty. Bechara now came to our aid, as he had done on
former occasions. He informed us that a ferryman
with a boat was sometimes on the opposite shore, and
if we could convey our wishes to him by a signal,

ARRIVAL AT SUEZ. 247
such as the explosion of a pistol, he would immedi
ately put off for us.
I finished firing as he finished speaking. We wait
ed a few minutes, but either no ferryman was there,
or the signal had not reached his ears. M. Taylor
suggested that we should all prepare our pieces, and,
at a word, fire simultaneously. This manceuvre suc
ceeded. We saw the blessed boat put out from the
shore and glide over the waves. In due time the
bark received us, and we took Mohammed and Ab
dallah in our company. The Arabs remained to
guard the luggage, and to cross on the dromedaries
as soon as the tide was out. Our first care on land
ing was to send back the boat with Mohammed and
a supply of provisions.
On our own part, we made our way to Suez with
what strength our empty stomachs could spare to
our legs. We arrived, much fatigued, at the house
of M. Comanouli, who received us with open arms,
and gave us Bonaparte's room. I confess that we
entered it this time with emotions quite unlike those
that inspired us when we first crossed its threshold :
but indeed we required something more nutritive
than recollections of the past, however glorious they
might be. M. ComanouH, anticipating our necessities,
produced a supper on the instant, for which he apol
ogized, and we returned him our thanks.
The meal achieved, we seated ourselves by the
window : it opened on the harbour, and we enjoyed
highly the coolness ofthe sea-breeze. Our lucubra
tions were extended far into the night ; for, great as
was our physical need of repose, the emotions atten
dant upon our present comforts, kept us wakeful.
Our various evening halts presented themselves to

248 THE GOVERNOR OF SUEZ.
our minds. The Desert — with its concerts of jack
als and hyenas, its snakes and lizards, its devouring
Bun and terrible khamseen — was nothing, now, but
a remembrance ; yet a living remembrance which
we could (so to speak) grasp with our hands ; and
which, though so recent, already arose to our imagi
nations in all its poetry and magnificence. Since
then, time has invested it with a still greater charm :
and now, after a lapse of eight years,* all the pleas
ing and terrible excitement of this pilgrimage remains
so thrillingly alive in my heart, that I would not hesi
tate, at a fitting opportunity, to re-encounter the fa
tigues and the dangers.
Our first visit on the morrow was to the Governor
of Suez. Either our recommendations to him were
ofthe strongest, or our amiability had made a lodge
ment in his good opinion, for our reception was of
the most fraternal kind. As soon as we entered, the
same silver decanters were handed to us, filled with
the same delicious water. After the water came
pipes and coffee ; and after these, the narration of
our adventures.
I related and Mohammed interpreted ; and, in the
intervals, I was enabled to trace in the grave and be
nevolent face of the Pacha, the emotions that the va
rious events of our journey awakened within him.
The deception practised by the Father of Victory
seemed to delight him mightily : but what principally
surprised me was the pleasure with which he listened
to my account of the theft upon our larder. He
made me twice repeat the episode of the mich-mich
sugar and coffee ; and he then bade me continue my
» The work of M. Dumas was published at Paris in 1833.

THE GOVERNOR OF SUEZ. 249
story with so radiant a face that it was evident he
was much entertained with the translation of my
prose. This gave me a high opinion of his taste, and
a sincere regret that he could not appreciate my
performance in the original tongue.
When I had finished my Odyssey, the Pacha again
ordered water to be brought, and exacted a promise
that we would dine with him. As we had no rea
son to wish to refuse, we accepted the invitation,
first informing ourselves of the dinner-hour. We
made a turn around the city, — were a little surpris
ed at not hearing from our Arabs, — and returned
to the Governor's at the appointed time.
As we crossed the inner court of the Pacha's pal
ace, we saw that a sort of mihtary display was ex
temporised for our gratification. All within was
astir ; servants, slaves, and eunuchs. > We were ush
ered into a large square room, where the Governor
was awaiting us, squat on an angle of the divan.
After the customary salutations, a large silver salver
was brought in and placed on the floor. We imme
diately arose and squatted around it. A slave then
entered with a silver pitcher and basins for us to
wash our hands. The Pacha called for water twice.
I had never before seen a Turk carry his ideas of
cleanUness so far.
The salver contained four silver dishes, with cov
ers of the same metal, heavily, but richly wrought.
The first contained the pilau de rigueur, vvith its
fowl in the midst : the second was a ragout with all
spice, but I could not make out what composed the
ragout : the third was a quarter of lamb, and the
fourth a fish. We helped ourselves boldly from the
first dish, preserving, at the same time, a sort of hi-

250 THE GOVERNOR OF SUEZ.
erarchy among ourselves : we made the attack by
drawing out the chicken. For the drinking part of
the feast, we had silver decanters with our favourite
water ; and I know not the wine I would at that mo
ment have preferred to it.
From the pilau, we went to the ragout. Here the
carving was easier, as the meat was cut to our hands
in small pieces ; each piece served for a spoon to car
ry a portion of the seasoning to our mouths, which it
then followed down our throats. We found, how
ever, that what we had mistaken for meat, in this
dish, was some sort of vegetable. The cheer for
mere Parisians, would have been altogether meagre :
but for such true sons of Ishmael as we had become,
it was excellent.
After the ragout, the quarter of lamb took its turn.
We saw from the Governor's manner of attacking
this dish, that he belonged to the school of Toualeb
and Bechara. He thrust out both arms, held the
lamb firmly with one hand, and pinched the meat
with the other : the flesh left the bone as if by magic.
We did not attempt to follow his example, for we
remembered the experiment on the roasted sheep in
the Desert, and knew that the disgrace of failure
would follow our efforts. We therefore asked the
Governor's permission to draw our poignards, lest
such a motion on our part, unauthorised and unex
plained, might appear rather belligerent. With this
aid we soon despatched our share of the mutton.
The fish now alone remained : and in the disposi
tion of it, we were called to pass the severest ordeal
that ever Christians sustained at the hands ofa Turk.
This fish, — I know not the creature's name, — was
BO terrifically beset with bones, that all three of us

THE GOVERNOR OF SUEZ. 251
were nearly strangled at the first mouthful. We
proceeded minutely to examine and separate the next
pinch ; on which our benevolent Governor, who had
swallowed his ration without even thinking of the
bones, asked for a piece of the fish on a silver plate ;
taking a portion from the plate, and placing it in the
hollow of his left hand, he carefully and adroitly
drew out all the bones ; he then mixed with the fish,
an equal quantity of crumbs of bread, added sundry
spices, and rolled all together into a ball about the
size of an egg. This exquisite preparation he imme
diately sent to M. Taylor, and occupied himself with
arranging a second edition of the same work. The
idea that this next shot was to be aimed at me, made
me stop short, and a certain internal sensation ad
monished me that I should not be able, without the
greatest difficulty, to swallow what was already on
my plate. The Pacha saw me pause, and, to my
great discomfort, supposed that I was waiting for my
ball : he therefore conducted his task with what I
thought a very superfluous haste — not, however,
slighting his work in the most minute particular.
When the ball was finished, it was transmitted with
out the loss of a moment. It was certainly a very
pretty ball — about the size of an apricot, of which
fruit it did not very pleasantly remind me : — still, as
a matter of course, I bowed when I received it.
Then, as if to admire its perfect roundness, I exam
ined it attentively, waiting for the instant when tha
Governor would '^turn his eyes another way, deter
mining to swallow it as a juggler does a sword. Our
host, indefatigable in his courtesy, began another ball,
destined for Mayer ; and, being thus fortunately oc
cupied, he did not perceive that mine, instead of en-

252 THE GOVFIRNOR OP SUEZ.
tering my mouth, passed into my sleeve, and was
thence transferred to my waistcoat. It is impossible
for me to tell what became of M. Taylor's, but I
have always suspected that he politely swallowed it.
As for Mayer, it needed no prophet to foresee his
fate. There was no fourth person to receive the
honour from the Pacha, and no jugghng could avail
him, when so many eyes were so near, and unoccu
pied. He maintained his ground like a brave man,
and, — since there was really no alternative, —
swaflowed the ball at a gulp ; this feat raised him
greatly in the Pacha's estimation, who entirely mis
apprehended the cause of Mayer's eagerness.
The second course consisted of cakes, sweetmeats,
and sherbet, prepared by the Governor's women.
During the whole repast, the Pacha was in excel
lent humour, and was gayer still, as it drew to a
close. He reverted to our journey, asked us new
questions about our abduction by the Father of Vic
tory, and made us stfll again relate how the two
tribes, — the robbers and the robbed, — afterwards
united to despoil us of our provisions. I had scarce
ly ended my reiterated details of the tricks of the
Arabs, when he arose suddenly, exclaiming —
" Now let us rise and see the heads of these thieves
taken off."
We thought we had misunderstood him, and made
Mohammed repeat his words : but from our interpre
ter's stupefaction, and the stammering manner in
which he said the words over, we saw at once, that
our host was in earnest.
M, Taylor arose and begged the Pacha, who had
already taken some steps towards the window, to lis
ten to him.

THE GOVERNOR OF SUEZ. 253
The Governor turned, and replied, that -he would
hearken with very great pleasure to all he wished to
say, the moment the execution was over.
M. Taylor remarked, that it was precisely on the
subject of the execution that he had some scruples of
conscience to submit to his notice.
The Governor made a gracious sign for him to
proceed, not, however, without a glance at the win
dow, as if to tefl the speaker, "make haste; the play
is waiting for us."
M. Taylor then, to the great astonishment of the
Pacha, began to plead the cause of our escort. He
assured his Excellency that these poor devils, dying
with hunger, were excusable for nibbling at our
stores. Besides, their trespass had occasioned us no
other inconvenience than a twenty-four hours' fast ;
whereas, had they not committed it, they would as
suredly have died from hunger. As to the prank of
the Father of Victory, it was so much in conformity
with Arab customs, that we ought to have been on
our guard : and its result was an actual advantage to
us, as it doubled our escort, and rendered our journey
more safe. He, therefore, most earnestly entreated
the Pacha to remit the punishment.
The Governor replied, that what M. Taylor said of
the Arab customs was perfectly true, and proved that
he had, in his travels, studied the country and the
people understandingly. He was obliged to confess
that such things had often occurred before ; but, for
the most part, the victims of their tricks were only
ordinary travellers, wretched painters, poor savans,
who were not worth caring for. But, — so his High
ness was pleased to say, — with us the case was dif
ferent. We were ambassadors from the French gov-
22

254 THE GOVERNOR OF SUEZ,
ernment, accredited near the Viceroy of Egypt, and
especially recommended to all the Governors by Ibra
him Pacha, Full and entire justice was our due.
Consequently, he again invited us to join him in wit
nessing the decapitation of the guilty : and he again
advanced towards the window.
Indeed, he was so seriously bent on giving us this
proof of consideration, that we began to tremble for
our poor travefling companions. We rose in turn,
and joined our entreaties to M, Taylor's. The Gov
ernor, evidently doing violence to his wishes and his
notions of justice, now made a sign to us to compose
ourselves. He ordered the prisoners to be brought
in, and invited us to take seats beside him.
In a few moments our worthy friends appeared.;
Toualeb and Abou-Mansour in front, then Bechara
and Araballah, and the herd of martyrs behind, es-
cprted by thirty soldiers with drawn sabres.
Toualeb and Bechara, as they entered, cast upon
us a look of inexpressible reproach, that went to
our souls, although our agency in their present mis
fortune was entirely involuntary and unanticipated.
We made signs to encourage them ; and they had
great need of comfort. They were as pale as their
swarthy complexion would admit. During the three
hours they had been under arrest, — of which we
were completely ignorant, — they learned from th eir
guard the fate that awaited them ; so that, knowing
their guUt in their own hearts, and quite aware of the
remorseless expedition of Turkish justice, they had
for some time looked upon themselves as already be
headed : the more especially since, naturally suppos
ing us to be their accusers,- they could not hope that
we should become their intercessors. For this rea-

THE GOVERNOR OF SUEZ. 255
son, too, the friendly and encouraging looks with
which we greeted their entrance were pre-eminently
unintelhgible to them.
When they were grouped around us, the Governof
for a moment silenfly regarded them with a look so
terrible that afl hope was annihilated; then seeing
that they were sufficiently overcome and repentant,
he said, sternly, —
"Unworthy chfldren of the Prophet! who have
fafled in all your duties towards those confided to
your care, our first intention was to have your heads
severed from your bodies ; but, moved by the urgent
entreaties of the Envoy of the Sultan of the French,
and the honourable Europeans who accompany him,
we remit the capital punishment. We release you,
after you have each received fifty blows on the soles
of your feet. Go !"
The sentence did not exactly meet the views of
the Arabs, They liked the bastinado better than de
capitation, doubtless ; but it was manifest, from their
looks, that they would prefer a free pardon to the
bastinado : fortunately for them, our preferences co
incided with theirs, M, Taylor motioned to them
to remain an instant ; and, turning to the Governor,
who was astonished at our pertinacity, expressed to
him, in his own and our behalf, our united thanks for
the kind reception he had given us. He declared
that our debt of gratitude was already so large, that
there was no necessity for its increase by means of
the additional civility he proposed at the expfense of
the Arabs' feet. He besought him, therefore, gen
erously to release them from afl chastisement, in con
sideration that these men, who when pressed by hun
ger failed in their strict duty, had nevertheless, on a

256 THE GOVERNOR OF SUEZ.
thousand other occasions, gone far beyond the fine of
their duty and our expectations ; that after the great
services they had rendered us, we no longer looked
on them as guides to whom we had promised wa
ges, but as friends who had a right to share with us.
M, Taylor added that he did not, in these remarks,
express merely his own desires, but also those of the
other two Europeans,
The Governor turned towards us with an air of
doubt ; but seeing from our supplicating looks that M.
Taylor's statement was corroborated, he stood for a
moment irresolute and reflecting, as if seeking the so
lution of an inexplicable problem.
Meantime the Arabs, who had followed the inter
preting of M. Taylor's discourse with the liveliest ex
pressions of gratitude, and now saw that we were se
conding his appeal, thought their time to join in was
come. They therefore knelt down before their wa
vering judge, and repeated their supplications and
prayers in chorus.
The Governor again looked at us, as if to inquire
if we really persisted in our wish for a full and com
plete remission of the punishment so justly deserved
by the Ishmaelites ; when, finding that our minds were
unchanged, he turned to the soldiers, and, with a sigh
that came from the bottom of his heart, motioned
them to retire. He then addressed a long admoni
tion to Toualeb and the Father of Victory in their
quality of sheiks, of which we understood nothing, ex
cept that it was lucky for them that they had such
indulgent masters. This discourse being ended with
suitable dignity, our Arabs retired.
We then expressed our gratitude to the Pacha for
his clemency to the delinquents and his kindness to

THE GOVERNOR OF SUEZ. 257
ourselves, and assured him that if we ever revisited
Suez, our first care should be to pay him our respects.
He, in turn, thanked us for our friendly intentions,
and made us promise to write from Cairo, informing
him how the Arabs behaved during the remainder of
the journey. We then made our adieus.
Ten minutes after leaving the palace, and while
turning the angle ofa street, we met our guides, who
were watching for us. They rushed forward at once
and caught our hands, which they kissed with an
eagerness that left no doubt of their gratitude. These
demonstrations were accompanied by promises of in
violable attachment. What had affected them par
ticularly was, not so much our intercession for their
heads, as our having denied ourselves the pleasure of
seeing the bastinado inflicted ; which, according to
their ideas, was a most curious and interesting sight.
However, after the first moments of effusion were
over, they proposed our departure without delay.
The clemency of the Governor was so unexpected
and unprecedented, that they could not quite con
fide in it. We found our camels saddled, loaded, and
waiting for us on the road to Cairo ; for the Arabs,
as soon as they were clear ofthe palace, sent four of
their number to put all things in readiness, so that
we might leave Suez at once. We understood their
haste, and followed them, laughing. We found our
dromedaries at the western gate, and were seated on
them in an instant. The Arabs did not wait for their
beasts to kneel, but clambered up while they were
running, as I had once seen Bechara do. When
mounted, Toualeb and Abou-Mansour, — now the
most affectionate of-^rothers, since the common es
cape from the common danger, — took the* head of
22*

258 RETURN TO CAIRO.
the column, and inculcated a gallop, by means of
which we, in less than two hours, put half a score of
leagues between us and the Governor of Suez, from
whom our Arabs thought they could never be far
enough separated.
Night came on while we were performing the last
two leagues, and we were forced to halt. Our tent
was pitched in a trice. The Arabs were more alert
and gay than we had ever known them : Bechara,
especially, was almost wfld with joy. He ran and
jumped about without any moderation, as if to assure
himself that in reality no harm had^ happened to his
legs ; and long after we had retired, we heard him
talking with a volubility that betrayed his feverish
emotions of joy. • .
The next morning we were on the road with the
light. We followed again the line of bones, in which
we saw a dromedary's carcass with some flesh still
remaining on it ; three or four jackals fled from it
at our approach. This showed that a caravan had
passed since our eastward journey, and paid its tri
bute to the inauspicious, dismal road. We rode un
der the " Tree of the Desert " without stopping, and,
at the close of the day, planted the stakes of our tent
in the petrified forest, at the foot of the Mokkatan :
the terror of the preceding day had evidently upset
all the topographical usages of our. Arabs. The jour
ney, too, had been very fatiguing : we had travefled
twenty leagues without an hour's rest.
We were in the sinuous and difficult passes of the
Mokkatan mountains when the sun arose. He ap
peared in the horizon just as we reached the summit,
and his earliest rays were reflected from the gilded
domes of Cairo. We welcomed the sight of the

RETURN TO CAIRO.

259

populous city, bristling with madenehs, and covered
with cupolas, with all the joy of a return home. We
made a short halt to take in every point of this ad
mirable view, more splendid at sunrise than at any
Other time of the day; and our haghins, as if divi
ning our wishes, no sooner reached the western de
clivity of the mountains, than they broke into a run
that soon brought us to the Tombs of the Caliphs.
Thence to Cairo was but a step, and we passed the
gates triumphantly, without fearing that our drome
daries would play us a trick. We had become per
fect riders ; and with our Arab dress and tanned
faces, it was no easy matter to recognise us as Chris
tians. At ten o'clock we were at M. Dantan's, Vice-
Consul of France, who appeared delighted to see us
again, safe and sound. He immediately informed
the hostages of our return ; who, although not so vol
uble as he, seemed well contented that our number
was complete.
After a few moments given up to the joy of again
seeing a fellow-countryman, and finding ourselves
(so to speak) once more in France, we proceeded
to business. The amicable arrangement between
Toualeb and the Father of Victory was, that they
should divide equally the price of the return-jour
ney. Not to deprive our faithful friends of the mo
ney they had so well earned, we determined to bear
the difference ourselves. We gave, besides, to each
as large a batchis as the state of our finances would
permit, so that we parted, on the best terms : they
vowing to preserve an everlasting remembrance of
us, and we promising to see them again. I know
not if I shall ever keep my engagement ; but I am

260 RETURN TO CAIRO.
confident that they have kept theirs ; and that more
than once, whfle galloping swiftly on their haghins,
encamped around their blazing fire in the Desert, or
under the tents of the wandering tribe of Oualeb-
Saide, our names have, been repeated as those of
faithful friends and honest comrades.

CHAPTER XII.

ST. LOUIS AT DAMIETTA.

M. DE Linant, the young artist who had made us
acquainted with the Arab escort, hastened to our ho
tel as soon as he heard of our return. He would not
listen to our intentions of staying elsewhere than at
his house ; and he carried us off accordingly. When
we told him our purpose of visiting Jerusalem and
Damascus, he offered to accompany us ; this offer we
most joyfully accepted. He had travelled repeatedly
through Syria, and was the very best cicerone we
could have. It was agreed that we should rest our
selves from our late journey by sailing down the Nile
as far as Damietta ; and as by the time we reached
that city, we should be ready for our second excur
sion, we might send for Toualeb and his dromedaries
to take us to Jerusalem by the way of El-Arich.
That very day we made preparation for our depar
ture. Nothing fastens on one so easily and quits one
so hardly, as the fever for travelling. When once the
disease takes hold, the patient is satisfied with nothing
but perpetual locomotion: the "wandering Jew" is
only a symbol.
We set out at the close of a beautiful day, having
the breeze against us,^ut the current and fourteen
Nubian oarsmen in our favour. During the night we

262 ST. LOUIS AT DAMIETTA.
passed that part of the Nile, already famfliar to us, ex
tending from Boulac to the angle of the Delta. When
the morning dawned, we were entering the eastern
arm of the river, which is more imposing than the one
that laves the walls of Rosetta, and its fertility struck
us the more forcibly as we had just come from the
Desert. This day passed away in pleasant relaxation,
and on the following one we arrived at Mansoura.
This name, like the Pyramids, called up one of those
national reminiscences to which no Frenchman can
be indifferent. Wfll my readers permit me to follow
the holy expedition of St. Louis, as I have already
done that of Napoleon ?
It was in the month of December, A. D. 1244, that
the Crusade was determined on. The king, Louis IX.
had already shown his devotion to the Cross by re
deeming from the Venetians the Crown of Thorns
that Baldwin had left in pledge, and, with bare head
and feet, carrying it from Vincennes to Notre-Dame.
He had, in a plenary court, just invested his brother
Alphonse with the counties of Poitou and Auvergne ;
and also that of the Albigenses, ceded by the Count
of Toulouse. He had vanquished the Count de La
Marche, who refused to do him homage at Taillebourg
and Saintes ; and afterwards pardoned him, although
aware that the Countess had attempted his (the king's)
hfe by poison. He had also compelled Henry III. of
England to ask a truce, and granted it on receiving a
compensation of five thousand pounds sterling. All
was therefore quiet in his domestic and foreign rela
tions, when he suddenly fell ill at Pontoise of a relapse
of a violent fever that originally attacked him on his
expedition to Pbitou. The disease made such rapid
progress, that his life was quickly despaired of. The

ST. LOUIS AT DAMIETTA. 263
dreadful intelligence resounded from one end of
France to the other. Louis was only thirty years
old, and the commencement of his reign had augured
a prosperous era to the kingdom. There was a gen
eral and sincere lamentation. Many noblemen and
prelates hastened to Pontoise ; alms and prayers were
offered in all the churches, and processions were
constantly made to them ; at last, the queen-mother,
Blanche, sent her almoner to Eudes Clement, abbe
of St. Denis, to request him to bring forth from their
vaults the bodies of the Blessed Martyrs — a cere
mony never performed but in times of the greatest
public calamity.
But the efforts of man were ineffectual ; the prayers
of religion useless. Louis fell into a stupor so deep
and protracted, that the two queens, Blanche, his
mother, and Marguerite, his wife, overcome by the
conviction of his death, were carried helpless from
his chamber. Two ladies alone remained in attend
ance, praying on either side of the bed. As they fin
ished their devotions, one of them rose and proceeded
to cover the king's face with the sheet ; when the
other begged her to desist, saying it was impossible
that God could have struck such a blow to the heart
of France. Whfle she was speaking, Louis opened
his eyes, and, in a feeble but distinct voice, pronoun
ced these words :
" The light of the East has been shed upon me by
the grace of the Lord, and it has recalled me from
the gates of death."
The ladies uttered a cry of joy, rushed to the door,
and brought back the two queens. The king extend
ed his hands to them ; and when the first transports of
gladness were calmed, he asked for Wflliam, Bishop

264 ST. LODIS AT DAMIETTA.
of Paris. This worthy prelate hastened to the bedside
of his suffering monarch, who, animated and strength
ened by his presence, sat upright and demanded the
Cross of the Crusade. The bystanders thought the
king was still delirious ; but Louis, perceiving their
error, addressed the Bishop (who hesitated to obey
his mandate) vowing that he would take no food untfl
he had obtained the badge of the Holy War. Wil
liam dared no longer refuse it ; and the king, unable
as yet to bind it upon his armour, laid it on his pillow.
From this day he rapidly recovered. He wrote to
the Christians in the East to keep up their courage,
promising to cross the sea as soon as he could assem
ble an army, and sending them, meanwhile, supplies
of money.
Louis lost no time in performing his promise. Odon
de Chateauroux, cardinal-bishop of Tusculum, former
ly chancellor of the church of Paris, and now Legate
from the Holy See, came to France to preach the Cru
sade ; and a great number of nobles flocked together
from the provinces, attracted, however, more by love
for their king than by zeal for religion.
The queen-mother made a great effort to prevent
this expedition. She went to her son, attended by
Wflliam. The prelate spoke first. He told the king
that the vow he had taken upon himself during his
illness was a rash vow, and not morally binding : that
if the king had any scruples of conscience on the sub
ject, he would obligate himself to obtain a dispensa
tion from the Pope. He told him that France, so
recently quieted, would by his absence be exposed to
the artifices of England, the sedition of the Poitevins,
and the restlessness of the Albigenses. Here Blanche
took up the argument :

ST. LOUIS AT DAMIETTA. 265
" My dear son," said she, " listen to the advice of
your friends, and trust not entirely to your own
judgement. Recollect that obedience to a mother's
wishes is well pleasing to God. Remain at home.
The Holy Land will not be lost, and you can send
to it a greater number of troops than if you went
thither yourself."
" That would not discharge my duty, my dearest
mother," replied Louis : " God expects more than
that from me. When all earthly sounds were hush
ed to my ear, I heard a voice from Heaven, which
said — 'King of France, thou knowest the outrages
committed against the city of Jesus : I have chosen
thee to avenge them I'"
"You deceive yourself," replied Blanche; "that
was the voice of delirium and fever. God does not
expect impossibilities, and the state you were in when
you made the vow will excuse you before Him for
breaking it.^'
" You think, then, my mother, that my reason was
bewildered when I took the Cross," said the King :
" well, I give it back according to your desire. There,
my father," he continued, unbinding it from his shoul
der and returning it to the. Bishop, "there it is."
The Bishop received it, and Blanche was about to
throw herself into her son's arms ; but he stopped
hsr, smfling :
" Mother," said he, " I have now neither frenzy nor
fever ; of that you are satisfied. And I now demand
the restoration of the badge I have just relinquished :
and Heaven is my witness that I wifl not eat until I
receive it again."
" The wiUof the Lord be done I" said the queen,
herself taking the Cross from the Bishop and hand-
23

266 ST. LOUIS AT DAMIETTA.
ing it to her son. "We are but the instruments of
His Providence, and wo to them who oppose his de
crees !"
In the meantime the Sovereign-Pontiff had sent,
to all the Christian States, ecclesiastics commissioned
to preach the Holy War. Their zeal was not fruit
less ; for many lords had already repaired to Paris.
There were some, however, whose enthusiasm was
qualified by the hope of increasing their dignities and
fortunes under the regency of a woman, and in the
absence of their seniors. They professed warmly to
approve the Crusade ; but intimated that it would not
be amiss to leave in Franco some men of courage
and noble blood ; whose task, though less glorious to
themselves, would be as serviceable to their country
as that of the more favoured gentlemen who were to
accompany the King on his warlike pilgrimage. Louis
was not duped by their disinterestedness ; and he
employed a very odd method to bring them to his
purposes. Christmas was approaching ; and it was
an established custom for the King, on the Eve of
the Nativity, to present the nobles of his court with
embroidered mantles of a uniform pattern just before
the commencement of the midnight-mass. On the
present occasion, Louis distributed an unusually large
number of these mantles. As the largess was bestowed
while the bell was ringing for mass, and in a dimly-
lighted chamber, the recipients put on the cloaks in
haste, and made their way to the church. When
they arrived, they saw by the light of the tapers the
sacred sign ofthe Cross on their own and their neigh
bours' shoulders, which badge, once worn, could not
be laid aside. It was too late to recede ; and strange

ST. LOUIS AT DAMIETTA. 267
as was the manner in which the soldiers of Christ
took their vows, not one of them broke the oath.
On Friday, June 12th, 1248, Louis, accompanied
by his brothers Robert, Count d'Artois, and Charles,
Count d'Anjou, repaired to St. Denis: the Cardinal
Odon of Chateauroux, awaited them there. He un
furled the oriflamme which, now for the third time,
was to wave in the East, and gave to the King
the staff and scrip, the pflgrim's emblems. The pro
cession then took its way to the Abbey of St. An-
toine, where mother and son were to take leave of
each other. The separation was terrible to Blanche:
this queen, so strongly fortified against the ordinary
events of life, was completely overcome when dan
ger threatened her son.
Louis placed himself at the head of his army, as
sembled in the territory of the Abbey of Cluny. There,
ready and united for the sacred cause, were Robert,
Count d'Artois, for whom death was waiting at Man
soura; Charles, Count d'Anjou, for whom a throne
was waiting in Sicily ; Pierre de Dreux, Count of
Brittany ; Hugh, Duke of Burgundy ; Hugh de Cha-
tillon; Hugh de St, Paul; the Counts de Dreux, de
Bar, de Soissons, de Blois, de Rhetel, de Montfort,
and de Vendome ; the lord of Beaujeu, Constable of
France ; John de Beaumont, high-admiral and cham
berlain ; Philip de Courtenay ; Gayon of Flanders ;
Archibald de Bourbon ; John de Barres ; Giles de
Mailly ; Robert de Bethune ; Oliver de Themes ; the
young Ralph de Coucy ; and the Sire de JoinviUe,
who carried into Egypt the sword of the soldier, and
brought back with him the pen of the historian.
Louis appeared in the midst of these nobles, their
superior in rank, their equal in courage. He was

^8

ST. LOUIS AT DAMIETTA.

S^l^JftTirty-three years of age ; tall, thin, and of a sal-
s^w complexion : his features were mild and regular,
his hair light, and cut short. His dress was after the
Christian plainness, in all its rigid humflity. And the
same King who had caused his court at Saumur, to
be styled, from its splendour, " the unrivalled court,"
now appeared in a pflgrim's garb, or in a suit of
plain polished steel armour, so that, as Joinvflle says,
" en la voie d'outre-mer on ne remarqua une seule cotte
brodee, ni celle du roi, ni celle d'autrui."
This magnificent assembly marched to Lyons, and
thence followed the Rhone to the sea-coast. As
France, at this time, had no port in the Mediterrane
an, and as that of Marseilles, — the only one Louis
could command from his double alliance with Bea
trice of Provence, — was not sufficiently capacious,
he had purchased Aigues-Mortes of the Abbe of Psal-
modi. This city was, therefore, the general rendez
vous ; and in its harbour were moored the one hun
dred and twenty-eight vessels, destined to transport
the King and his warriors. These nefs, as Joinvflle
in his simple and poetic language, calls them, were
accompanied by a multitude of transports, for the
horses and provisions. As France had no navy,
the pilots and sailors were almost afl Italians and
Catalonians ; the two admirals were Genoese ; and
most of the knights now, for the first time, beheld the
sea. The army embarked on the 25th of August, 1248,
and the whole flotilla directed its course towards Cy
prus, where reigned Henry of Lusignan, a descend
ant of the Kings of Jerusalem. This sovereign offer
ed his island as the most convenient relai; and ex
tensive magazines had been prepared there. The

ST. LOUIS AT DAMIETTA. 269
army disembarked on the 21st of September ; and,,
from that time, the Christians in the East, so often
deceived in their hopes of relief, now saw those hopes
changed into certainty. The news was received by
them with enthusiastic joy, for they were in the last
strait of misery and thraldom.
Since the crusade of Philip Augustus, when St.
Jean d'Acre was taken, the affairs of the Christians
in the East had been growing worse and worse. The
King of Jerusalem, Jean de Brienne, had made a cam
paign into Egypt, taken Damietta, and was on the
route to Cairo, when, abandoned by his knights, he
was forced to retreat; — and, possessor of two thrones,
son-in-law of two kings, and father-in-law of two
emperors, he died at Constantinople, a monk of the
order of St. Francis, Frederick, in turn, repaired to
Jerusalem with vast projects, and a fine army ; but
his devotion terminated with his mere pilgrimage,
and his ambition extended no further than his coro
nation in the church of the Holy Sepulchre, In a
letter to the Sultan of Cairo, he announced that he
had " planted his standard on Calvary and Zion, in
order to preserve the esteem of the Franks, and lift
up his head among the Kings of Christendom." Thi-
baut de Champagne, King of Navarre, more trouba
dour than knight, and the last of the Princes who
took the Cross for the Holy Land, effected more by
his verses than his sword, and returned to his do
mains to pursue, without interruption, his literary
fancies. After him, one of those chances, common
to Asia, crowded a whole nation towards the West.
These were the Caramanians,whom the Tartars drove
from Persia, In their flight, they took Jerusalem,
because it lay in their way, and devastated Palestine
23*

270

ST, LOUIS AT DAMIETTA.

because they must needs have the means of living.
Afterward they were almost exterminated by the
Sultan of Damascus, to whom they were strangers,
and who had never heard of them until the breath
of the Almighty blew them upon his notice. Gener
al misfortunes were added to internal dissensions.
The King of Armenia, and the Prince of Antioch,
were fighting for some fragments of territory. At
Cyprus, where Louis landed, the Latins and Greeks
were at variance on points of religious doctrine ; the
Hospitallers and Templars were struggling for su
premacy; and the Genoese and Pisans were con
tending for commerce.
The first care of Louis, was to establish peace and
harmony among these important auxiliaries. At Ni
cosia, as at Vincennes, — under the palm-tree as un
der the oak, — he administered justice, and his de
crees were religiously submitted to. But the mission
of the angel of peace, retarded that of the man of
war. When afl differences had been adjusted, and
the army was in readiness to continue its voyage, the
season was found to be too far advanced for further
progress, Henry de Lusignan offered his hospitality
to the Crusaders for the winter, promising that he
and his nobles would accompany them in the spring.
Cyprus, with its admirable situation, its wonderful
fertflity, and its wines celebrated by Solomon, plead
ed but too loudly in favour of this proposal ; and the
Christians found their Capua, like Hannibal, — but it
was before they had conquered like Hannibal,
The Mussulmans, on their side, were a prey to
violent discords. Since the death of Saladin, the
family of Aioubites had been almost yearly disturbed
by domestic quarrels. However, from among such a

ST. LOUIS AT DAMIETTA. 271
people, — encamped rather than established in Egypt
and supported by war alone — trained, from infancy,
to arms, and in afl cases of common danger, uniting
their ordinarily divided interests, — issued forth the
most terrible adversaries, that the Christians could
encounter. When Louis disembarked at Cyprus, the Sultan of
Cairo, Alalek-Saleh-Negmeddin, who then reigned
over Egypt, was in the heart of Syria, carrying on a
war against the Prince of Aleppo, and besieging the
town of Emessa. The iUness that shortly after ter
minated his life was detaining him at Damascus, when
a man disguised as a merchant reached him with the
intelligence of the preparations at Cyprus. This
news affected him deeply. The Orientals had learn
ed to regard the French as the bravest of their ene
mies, and the King of France as the most formidable
of Kings. Besides, these threatening facts received
additional force from the notoriety of a prediction,
spread as far as Persia and now credited both by
Christians and Mussulmans, that a King of France
should disperse the infidels and deliver Asia from the
worship of Mahomet. Malek-Saleh considered, there
fore, that he had no time to lose. He abandoned the
siege of Emessa ; and, fll as he was, ascended a litter
and arrived at Achmoun-Tanah in the month of April,
1249. As he doubted not that Damietta would be
the first point of attack, he immediately began to put
it in a state of defence ; he filled it with provisions,
and supplied it with arms and munitions. He then
commanded the Emir-Fakreddin to march towards
the city and oppose the landing of the enemy ; and,
as he felt that his iUness was increasing, he published
throughout the kingdom, that all to whom he was in-

272 ST. LOUIS AT DAMIETTA.
debted should present themselves at his treasury to
be paid. Fakreddin encamped at the Gish of Dami
etta, on the left shore of the Nfle : the river flowed
between the city and the camp.
The season thus passed, both sides making prep
aration for the contest, until Louis deemed it advisa
ble to put to sea again. He gave orders that the
vessels should be loaded with provisions, and ready to
sail at the first signal. These provisions, as before
stated, were prepared in advance ; the depots of bar
ley, oats, and wheat had been collected in such quan
tities on the plains, that the stacks resembled moun
tains ; and the resemblance was the stronger because
the grain, exposed to the weather, had sprouted to
the depth of five or six inches from the surface, so
that the hills were covered with the green shoots like
grass; but beneath this the grain was as fresh and
sound as if just taken from the threshing-floors.
On the Friday before Pentecost the King and
Queen went on board their vessel, and the word was
shouted from deck to deck that aU must be in readi
ness ; so that, on the following morning, at a given
signal, the boats unfurled their sails and moved ma
jestically on, covering the sea with a cloud of canvass
and a forest of magts, — the flotilla consisting of no
less than eighteen hundred vessels of all sizes.
On the morning of the day of Pentecost, the King
found himself ofl' the point of Lymesso, and saw a
church whence issued the sound of bells. Desirous
to improve an opportunity, which seemed offered by
Providence, to hear once more the sacred mass, he
steered towards the land with a detachment of the
fleet. While he was in the church, a tempest arose
which dispersed the flotilla, and drove most of the

ST. LOUIS AT DAMIETTA. 273
vessels, in great disorder, on the coast of Palestine.
In the event, Louis found that, of the two thousand
eight hundred knights who had set forth from Cyprus,
he could now muster scarcely seven hundred. Even
this, however, did not deter him from prosecuting his
voyage. On the fourth day following this disaster, as the
fleet continued its course with favourable weather, the
pilot of the royal vessel sang out from the mast-head,
" God prospers us : — there is Damietta !" The other
pilots echoed the shout ; and the Crusaders now be
held the long belt of ghttering sand on the shore,
whence arose the white walls of the city. This was
on Friday, June 4thi 1249: the 647th year ofthe
Hegira; the 21st ofthe moon Saphar. Shouts of joy
now arose from every vessel ; but Louis gave a sig
nal that he wished to speak : silence prevailed, and
the boats of the fleet clustered around the royal bark.
" My trusty companions," said he, " it is not with
out Divine permission that we are allowed to approach
this shore. From this moment I am no longer King
of France, the Chevalier of the Church : I am only a
man whose life will be extinguished Hke that of the
meanest, whenever the breath of the Lord shall blow
upon it. But remember that every thing is propi
tious to us, be events what they may. If vanquished,
we are martyrs ; if victorious, the name of the Lord
will be magnified, — the honour of France increased.
Be humble, then, as becomes the soldiers of Christ :
we shall conquer for Him, — but to Him be the'glory.
And now may God have you in His holy keeping,
for here come tidings from the enemy."
The shore was lined with the army of Fakreddin,
as well as the inhabitants of Damietta, and between

274 ST. LOUIS AT DAMIETTA.
them and the Crusaders the Nfle glided majestically
to the sea. Directly, four galleys manned by corsairs
appeared at the mouth of the river : they advanced
to reconnoitre the King's fleet. When within three
bolt-lengths of the first vessel, they turned to retreat,
having apparently ascertained what they desired ; but
the swift boats of the King gave chase, disposed their
mangonels, and threw upon the intruders a shower of
stones, arrows, and combustibles. The corsairs were
quickly overpowered, and three of their galleys sunk.
The fourth reached the shore • her crew showed
their wounds to the multitude, and assured them that
the King of France had come with arrows and weap
ons of fire. The unarmed inhabitants took the alarm
and fled towards the city. This movement encour
aged the Crusaders, who pressed onward, crying, " to
the shore ! to the shore 1"
Meanwhile the Saracens made ready to receive
the Christians. Emir-Fakreddin rode through the
host, clad in golden armour of indescribable splen
dour, encouraging and animating the troops.
JoinviUe's boat was the first to land, and he sprang
on shore in face of a body of horse, followed by Ay-
rard, Brienne, Jehan de- Belmont, and a score of
knights. The Saracens spurred their horses to push
the Crusaders back into the water ; but Joinvflle and
his chevaliers planted their lances and shields in the
sand, and drew their swords ; and the Saracens see
ing their position, retreated without coming to the
attack. Boat after boat touched the strand, the
knights sprang out and took the same order of de
fence as Joinville had done, and the Saracens stfll
repeated their attempts to disorder and drive them
back, but entirely without success. The boat of the

ST. LOUIS AT DAMIETTA. 275
King now approached ; but so great was his impa
tience to join the fray, that, while yet some distance
from the land, he jumped into the sea to make hia
way on foot, shouting " Montjoie et St. Denis I"
Luckfly the water was not over his shoulders. All
now followed this example, and the sea was filled
with men and horses, as if the whole army had been
shipwrecked. At this instant, three carrier-pigeons
arose from the camp of the Saracens, and took their
flight towards Mansoura : they were bearing to the
Sultan the news of the Crusaders' disembarkation.
The Saracens now appeared to regret the facility
with which they had suffered the Christians to land.
The latter, on their part, proceeded with great alac
rity to pitch the tent of their King : it was of bright
red cloth, blazoned with golden fleurs-de-lis. The
Mussulmans concentrated their force and rushed to
wards this point de mire : the Christians pressed for
ward to defend their King, and the combat began.
At the same time the Infidel .fleet left the Nile and
attacked that of the Crusaders. The melee was
general, obstinate, and bloody, but of short duration.
While the French and Saracens, on land and water,
were encountered man toman, the Christian captives
and slaves, confined in Damietta, succeeded in forcing
their prison doors, rushed from the city with shouts,
caught up the first weapons they found, and attacked
the Saracens in the rear. The latter, surprised at
this unexpected assault, recoiled and retreated in
disorder. The field was strewn with Saracens, and
among them were the Emirs Nedjm-Eddin and Sa-
rin-Eddin. The Crusaders lost but one man, and
that man was the Count de La Marche, the ex-ally
of the English, the rebel vassal of Saintes and Taille
bourg.

276 ST. LOUIS AT DAMIETTA.
The conquerors dared not pursue their triumph
for fear of an ambush. They pitched their tents
around the royal pavilion. The queen Marguerite
and the Duchess d'Anjou now disembarked ; and
the clergy, preceded by the Legate, chanted the Te
Deum.
As soon as night came on, Fakreddin abandoned
his camp, and retired to the right shore ofthe Nfle.
When he arrived, instead of halting to demolish the
bridge by which he crossed the river, and entrench
ing himself at Damietta, or waiting for the invaders
under its walls, he entered the city at one gate only
to evacuate it at an opposite one. He took the road to
Achmoun-Tanah without leaving a single order to
defend Damietta. The inhabitants, finding them
selves thus deserted and betrayed, flocked into the
streets and butchered the Christians resident in the
city ; and the garrison, induced by this example, pil
laged their houses. Then from every gate, men, wo
men, and chfldren issued forth like bees, not know
ing whither to go, yet urged onward by the terror
of the Crusaders. The garrison soon followed ; and
by the middle of the night the town was not only
without defenders, but also without inhabitants.
The Christians were beginning to seek repose,
when the sentinels gave an alarm. An immense vol
ume of flame rose above Damietta, flluminating its
walls, Gizeh, and the Nile ; yet in the enormous cir
cle of light all seemed quiet ; no shadow was seen ;
no voice was heard. About three o'clock the day
began to break, when two slaves who had escaped
the massacre, arrived at the camp with the intelli
gence of the evacuation of the city. Their report
was so incredible that the King doubted their vera-

ST. LOUIS AT DAMIETTA.

277

city, although he recognised them as Christians, and
they solemnly swore to the truth of their narration.
A knight stepped forward at this juncture, and of-
ferred to reconnoitre the city. His proposal was
accepted ; and, after receiving absolution from the
Legate, he set forth on his errand. When an hour
had passed, he was seen returning, through the same
gate that he entered. The King, too impatient to
wait his arrival, spurred forward his horse to meet
him on the way. The knight corroborated the ac
count of the fugitives, and Damietta was indeed in
the power of the French. It was a strong, well for
tified city, and amply supplied with provisions. It
might for years have withstood a besieging army.
The flames, which gave the alarm on the preceding
night, were extinguished without having done any
extensive injury.
Great consternation prevailed throughout Egypt
when the intelligence was spread abroad that the ori
flamme waved over the battlements of Damietta.
The Sultan received the news on his death-bed ; and
for a while his rage restored his failing energies. He
commanded fifty officers of the dispersed garrison to
be brought before him and strangled. One of these
had a son of whom he was passionately fond, and he
begged the Sultan that he might die first, so as not
to witness the agony of his child. " I thank you for
reminding me of that I" said the Sultan; "let the
son be executed first, and under his father's eyes."
Fakreddin was next summoned.
" The sight ofthe Franks," said the Sultan, "must
have been terrible indeed, since men like you could
not support it for a single day !"
The Emirs who were standing around, fearing
24

278 ST. LOUIS AT DAMIETTA.
their chief would meet the fate of the officers, now
sjgned to him that they were ready to poignard the
Sultan ; but this last effort had so much exhausted
Negmeddin, that he fell back on his pillow, pale and
breathless. " It is not worth whfle," said Fakreddin, aloud, in
reply to their kind intentions ; " let him die."
And on the 22d of November, 1249, the 15th of
the moon Shabaan, the Sultan died, naming his son
Turan-Shah his successor.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA.

The French were not yet aware of the death of the
Sultan, as every precaution had been taken to keep
the event concealed, not from them only, but also
from the Egyptians, This magnificent sovereign was
in fact a corse, and for the moment the power and
authority of his dominions was vested in the hands of
a woman ; yet the baharite Mamelukes still continued
to watch at the door of his palace ; meals were served
up to him regularly ; orders were given in his name ;
prayers were offered in all the mosques for his re
covery ; and in the mean time private messengers
were despatched to Husn-Keifa, on the Tigris, where
Turan-Shah, his son, was in exile. During this time
the Emir Fakreddin had taken the command of the
troops. He was an exceflent general and- brave
soldier, although by his precipitate retreat, — which
has been ascribed to stratagem, — he suffered the
downfall of Damietta, He was knighted hy Frede
rick II, and bore on his escutcheon the united arms
of the German Emperors and the Sultans of Cairo
and Damascus,
The death of Negmeddin, however, could not long
be concealed, and fhe fact after a time came to the
knowledge of the French, But they were forced to

280 THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA,
delay a prompt and decisive movement on receiving
the intelligence, by the non-arrival of the Count de
Poitiers, who was to foflow Louis with large supplies
of money and a large reinforcement of men. As it
was eventually ascertained, this fleet encountered the
same disasters of dispersion and shipwreck as that of
Louis ; the Count, with the greater part of his army,
having been thrown upon the coast of St, Jean d'Acre,
In the mean time, however, the Crusaders at Dami
etta were deeply distressed by the protracted absence
of this force. Each one gave his own conjecture as
to the cause ; when the Sire de Joinville recollected
that during his voyage from Marseilles to Cyprus, a
very remarkable circumstance had occurred.
When he was off Tunis, about the hour of vespers,
he came in sight of a large, round mountain. He
doubled the point where it lay in the course of that
evening, and, as he supposed, left it far behind ; but
on awaking the next morning, he found himself just
where he was at the preceding hour of vespers, and
the mountain in his front, although the pilot swore
that they had made fifty leagues during the night.
The oars of the vessel were now brought out, and
during the whole of that day and the ensuing night
they both rowed and sailed ; but their toil was use
less ; for, in the morning, the mysterious mountain
was stifl before them. They then understood that
they were opposed by magic, which could never be
overcome by merely human means. The Dean of
Mauru, who was on board, now spoke :
" Dear sirs and chevaliers ! I have never in my
life seen the peril that would not disappear with the
help of Christ and His Holy Mother, if on a Satur
day a devout procession be thrice made, while the
people sing the praises of God."

THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA,

281

The day happened to be Saturday; and all on
board at once began to march around the mast, sing
ing psalms. The exorcism was efficacious, and the
next day they lost sight of the loadstone mountain.
Joinville now proposed a simflar expedient to the
Legate, who adopted it immediately and proclaimed
three processions in the army. They were to be
made on every Saturday from the Legate's house to
the church which he had consecrated in Damietta.
They were performed accordingly with great faith,
the King and afl the nobles of his court uniting in
them ; and after each procession the Legate preached
a sermon and pardoned sins. On the third Saturday,
while the King was in the church, several vessels ap
peared off Damietta ; and the stranger-fleet was soon
found to contain the Count de Poitiers and the arriere-
ban of France.
All ran eagerly to witness the landing of these wel
come visiters, who constituted a large reinforcement
of men, and who brought with them eleven chariots,
each drawn by four horses, containing twenty-four
iron-bound casks of talents, pounds sterling and money
of Cologne. This treasure was the price of the goods
of the Church, sold to aid the Crusade.
Thus powerfully reinforced, Louis prepared at once
to pursue his conquests ; and on the 6th of December
he commenced his march, leaving the queen Margue
rite, and the Countesses Artois, Anjou, and Poitiers, at
Damietta, under the charge of Oliver de Themes.
The army presented a magnificent appearance.
Twenty thousand cavaliers, the flower of chivalry ;
forty thousand infantry, the best disciplined foot-sol
diers in the world, ascended the right shore of the
Nfle. The river for the space of a league was en-
24*

282 THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA.
tirely covered with the various vessels appertaining
to the troops, carrying arms, armour, warlike imple
ments, and men. Their halt on the day following
was at Pharescour, where they met their first obsta
cle and first surprise.
They had arrived at one of the numerous branches
ofthe Nile which strike out from the main stream and
afterward run paraUel to it to the sea. This branch,
although narrow, was too deep to be forded. At this
epoch the secret of flying bridges (which now trans
port armies in a day across greater impediments) was
quite unknown ; and the Crusaders had no resource
but to make drains, that the water might be reduced
to a fordable depth.
This task was just completed, when a body of five
hundred Saracen horsemen approached : they were
splendidly mounted and armed, and made signs of
peace.. Louis sent to demand their intentions. They
replied that the Sultan was dead and they were not
willing to serve his successor; they had come, there
fore, to offer their services to the King of France,
This story did not seem plausible : yet as they were,
from the smallness of their number, entirely at the
mercy of Louis, he commanded that they should be
received into his column, and allowed to proceed
without harm or insult.
The Templars now took the lead, conducted by
RegnauU de Bichers ; when, suddenly, the Saracens,
who had formed themselves into a compact body, put
their horses to a gallop and rushed towards them.
The Templars, though not comprehending this strange
movement, quietly formed their ranks and assumed the
defensive. They were not long in suspense. One of
the Turks, who by his impetuosity had preceded the

THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA.

283

main body some two or three spears' lengths, adroitly
unslung his mace and struck from his horse a Tem
plar posted on the flank of the battalion. RegnauU
drew his sword, raised himself in the stu-rups, and
shouted :
" Forward, my comrades I at them, in the name of
the Lord ! for we cannot suffer such things,"
So saying he struck the spurs into his horse, and
the whole of that dreadful phalanx of steel charged
the infidels home : one half of the devoted troop was
at once thrust and trodden to the plain ; the remain
der, forced helplessly into the Nile, disappeared in
its waves : not a man of them escaped. The Tem
plars then resumed their march ; the host followed ;
and the next evening all arrived at the village of
Scharmesah. However, the rumour of their march preceded
them ; and as they approached Mansoura, the last post
of strength intervening between them and Cairo, ter
ror spread throughout Egypt. As yet, no intelligence
had been received from the young prince Turan-
Shah, and the responsibleness of public affairs de
volved entirely on a woman. Nevertheless, the Arab
historian, Makrisi, affirms that this woman surpassed
all women in beauty, and all men in genius. The
general apprehension was stfll further augmented by
a letter from Fakreddin, promulgated in Cairo, to the
following effect :
" In the name of God and Mahomet his Prophet I
" Hasten, great and small : the cause of God needs
your valour and your wealth. The Franks, whom
may Heaven curse ! have landed in our country with
their banners unfurled, and their swords unsheathed :
they intend to destroy our cities, and ravage our pro-

284 THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA.
vinces. What true Mussulman can refuse to march
against them, and avenge the glory of Islamism?"
This letter caused the cowardly to flee from Cairo —
the brave to meet the danger. For three days the
city was in tears and disheartened, as if the so much
dreaded Franks were already at the gates.
Meanwhile the Crusaders were advancing, ignorant
of the way, yet knowing that if they followed the
Nile they must eventuafly reach Mansoura, and after
ward Cairo.
When they had proceeded some leagues beyond
Bermoun, the vanguard halted and gave a loud shout :
they saw the City of Victory. On the opposite side
of the canal of Achmoun and on both sides of the
river the camp of the enemy appeared, and the Nile
between them was covered with their fleet. The
Crusaders had not now to drain a small stream and
encounter five hundred Saracens : they had a river to
cross and an army to fight. They had reached the
spot marked out by destiny where the fate of the
campaign must be decided. Their fleet was allowed
to anchor off Mansoura, and their troops were per
mitted to reach the borders of the canal without op
position : they then established their camp in sight of
Nasir-Daoud, Prince of Carac, who watched their
movements. This was on the 19th of December,
A.D. 1249, and the thirteenth day ofthe moon Ram
adan. The army of Louis occupied the spot where
thirty years before, the King John de Brienne was
encamped : and Louis now gave orders for the pas
sage of the canal.
This canal was about as broad as the Seine at
Paris, Its bed was deep, its shores precipitous, no
bridge covered it, and no ford was known. A few

THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA.

285

men on the opposite side might destroy a whole ar- '
my in detail should the passage be attempted by
swimming. It was necessary, therefore, to construct
a causeway across the canal, and build two rolling
towers to protect the workmen. These towers were
completed in a few days, and the causeway was
commenced. '
The Saracens placed sixteen engines of war oppo
site to these preparations to throw stones and arrows
on the men, Louis, on his part, constructed eighteen
similar engines to reply to the attack. Among these
was a very deadly one invented by Jousselin de
Courrent, A strict watch was also maintained by
night and by day.
The galleries being finished in spite of the showers
of stones and arrows rained on the workmen, the em
bankment began to stretch out into the water. But
the Saracens, full of ingenuity, presented an unex
pected obstacle to the success of the project. They
commenced excavating the shore opposite to the
causeway, and thus made the landing-place retreat,
as the means of landing advanced. Three laborious
and bloody days were passed in this mutual effort at
attack and defence ; at the end of which time the in
vading army was as far as ever from the shore of
the canal,
Fakreddin, meanwhile, descended the left bank of
the Nfle, crossed the river at Scharmerah, and, under
cover of the night, advanced to attack the rear of
the Crusaders : the Emir swearing that on the day
of St. Sebastian, he would sleep in the tent of king
Louis. The French were at dinner, keeping a careful
guard on the side of the canal and river, when an

286 THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA.
alarm was given from the rear. Joinvflle was the
first to move. He, with Pierre d'Avallon and their
foflowers, was speedily in the saddle, and rushed to
wards the point of alarm. The Templars led by the
indefatigable Regnault, followed next. This force
fell upon the Saracens as they were carrying off the
Sire de Perron and his brother Lord Duval, whom
they had surprised in the fields. Finding themselves
pursued, the infidels attempted to kifl their prisoners,
but their good armour protected them, and Joinvifle
found them on the ground wounded, but still alive.
Reinforcements continued to arrive from the Crusa
ders' camp, and the Saracens were obliged to retire
with some loss.
Louis now ordered new works and redoubled vigi
lance. Trenches were opened along the whole line
of the camp towards Damietta, stretching diagonally
from the bank of the Nile to the bank of the canal :
these trenches were defended by palisades, and thus
covered the hitherto unguarded side of the encamp
ment, which was in the form of a triangle. The
King and the Count d'Anjou took post on the side to
wards Cairo : the Count de Poitiers and the Senes
chal de Champagne guarded that towards Damietta,
and the Count d'Artois, with a chosen band, took up
his quarters around the engines that protected the
causeway. Never was a camp better defended than
that of Achmoun : it was guarded by a King and his
three brothers.
The Turks, finding that they could not take the
Christians by surprise, brought forward in front of
the causeway, a new engine of singular construction.
About ten o'clock on the evening following its ap
pearance, as the stout chevaliers were keeping their

THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA. 287
accustomed watch, a light appeared on the opposite
shore, and at the next instant, a globe of fire came
hissing through the air like a long-tailed dragon : U
was about the size of a hogshead ; it started with a
report like thunder, and moved with the velocity of
lightning. So great was the fllumination produced
by it, that the Christian encampment, Mansoura, and
the Saracen host, were all as visible as in open day.
It fell between the galleries in a ditch dug by the
Crusaders; and there, although in the water, con
tinued to burn, — for it was the Greek-fire, invented
by Callinicus, which nothing but a mixture of sand
and vinegar could extinguish.
The noise and the light, aroused the whole camp.
The King came out of his tent : the soldiers stood
around in mute astonishment; and the Sire Gau-
thier du Curel turned to Joinville and his knights, ex
claiming :
" Sirs ! we are irretrievably lost : for if we remain
here, we shafl be consumed ; and, if we leave our
posts, our honour will be attainted. Now, as God
only can defend us in such a strait, I counsel you,
companions and friends, that every time this fire is
sent among us, we throw ourselves on our knees with
our faces to the ground, beseeching mercy from our
Lord, who is omnipotent,"
The Seneschal and chevaliers promised to do what
the good man advised, A chamberlain now arrived
from the King, to ask if the flame had done any inju:
ry ; but at this moment it was extinguished, having
yielded to the efforts of a man in the camp, who had
some knowledge of the infernal composition, and
who alone had dared to approach it. The chamber
lain therefore returned, somewhat re-assured, to the

288 THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA.
King : but, scarcely had he reached the royal tent,
when the sky was again flluminated with so terrible
a light, that Louis fell down on his knees at once,
crying out " Good Lord Jesus ! preserve me and my
whole army !"
This second thunder-bolt crossed the canal, as
the first had done ; but, inclining to the right, it
moved on towards the tower, guarded by De Cour
tenay and his men : seeing it approach, they aban
doned the spot where it was likely to fall, flying right
and left. The burning dragon dropped at the shore,
and but a few feet from the tower ; when a cheva
lier, seeing it gain upon the building, and despairing
to extinguish it, ran towards Joinville and Gauthier,
saying, "Aid us, sires, in the name ofthe Lord, or we are
all consumed ; we, and our towers. To the rescue,
my lords, to the rescue !"
The two knights hastened to the spot ; the men
regained their courage ; and all flocked around the
mass of fire. Scarcely had they begun to extinguish
it, when a shower of arrows, stones, and viretons fell
upon them ; but these were human weapons, which
human means could repel. They annoyed the Cru
saders but little, although their bucklers and cuirasses
were soon bristling with them.
The night passed away amid such supernatural
terrors. The sky flamed ; and the knights watched ;
but they were beginning to believe that the false
Prophet Mahomet had sent demons instead of men,
to the defence of Egypt. The most extravagant re
ports were circulated and believed, during these
hours of darkness, and on this unknown land. The
Nile itself, which, bounteous and nutritive, glided

THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA. 289 \
beneath the eyes of all, was the subject of strange
tales. Joinvflle, with his religious and good-natured
credulity, has preserved some of the odd opinions
that the Crusaders originated, or received, on this
subject. The Nile, they said, took its rise in the terrestrial
paradise ; and they proved it, by citing the fact, that
the fishermen frequenfly drew up in their nets, from
the bottom of the river, cinnamon, ginger, and aloes.
Hence, as these precious trees grow in Eden, it is
evident, that branches and fragments, torn off by the
wind, fall into the stream at its source, and find their
way down with the current.
Fortunately for the Christians, this night passed
over without any actual injury corresponding to the
extent of their alarm. Those who had watched
through the night, retired to rest, and their places
were supplied by others ; the King and his brothers,
however, kept their posts.
At day-break, the Count d'Anjou commanded the
engines to be repaired ; and as the darts of the Sara
cens annoyed the workmen, he brought the two tow
ers to their protection, from which showers of ar
rows were sent forth. As the Christians were expert
archers, the Turks soon found themselves at disad
vantage. They, therefore, brought forward a sort of
catapult; and, fastening their engines together to
give them more power, they added to their terrible
globes of fire, a cloud of heated arrows that no one
could withstand.
The Greek-fire, too, when du-ected with the assist
ance of day-light, became much more fatal and effi
cient. The towers were soon in flames, and they,
and everything around them, were consumed : this
25

290 THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA.
rain of Gomorrah continued through the day ; and in
the evening, neither luggage nor engines remained.
The night following was tranqufl, for there was no
thing left to burn.
The King now determined to break up some of his
vessels to construct a new tower, and many boats
were destroyed for this purpose. In a fortnight the
tower was completed, being higher and stronger
than the preceding ones. It was placed on the bank
of the canal, and the workmen resumed their labours
on the causeway under cover of its fire. But the
Saracens brought their burning dragons to bear upon
it, and it was soon smoking, blazing, and crumbling
to ashes Hke the others.
The King was now overwhelmed. He saw no end
to the conflict unless he could grapple with his an
tagonists. He felt, indeed, that the canal must be
crossed, or the Crusade abandoned. The causeway,
however, could not be constructed ; the current was
too rapid for swimming ; and the depth too great for
fording : to return to Damietta was both shameful
and impolitic ; yet to remain in their present condi
tion was useless and impossible. Besides, the army
began to be threatened with famine : and a disease
had appeared in the camp, which, without having a
decidedly contagious character, was attended with
uniform and therefore alarming symptoms.
Louis assembled all his barons in an extraordinary
council. The convocation was held under the King's
tent : but their deliberations had scarcely commenced
when Humbert de Beaujeu, Constable of France,
brought intelligence that gave every one new cour
age. A Bedouin had just presented himself, who of
fered to point out a ford for horses on condition of

THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA. 291
receiving five hundred bezants of gold. The King on
hearing this proposition, acceded to it at once, stipu
lating, however, that the money should not be paid
untfl the Crusaders were safely landed on the oppo
site shore. The agreement was made, and the time
for the passage fixed for the night preceding Tues
day, the 8th of February.
On Monday evening, the King gave the camp in
charge to the Duke of Burgundy, and set out with his
brothers, leading their several battalions.' Giles,
Grand-Master of the Templars, led the van. Next
came the Count d'Artois, foflowed by his retainers.
Then the King, with the Counts d'Anjou and de
Poitiers, commanding the rest of the detachment ; in
all, nearly fourteen hundred cavaliers ; and three hun
dred archers who were to cross with the vanguard,
riding double, each archer behind a Templar.
They marched in sflence along the borders of the
canal ; but some of the cavaliers, imprudently deviat
ing from the road, approached too near the edge ofthe
sloping and slippery banks, and were suddenly precipi
tated into the water; these instantly sank and were lost.
Among the number was a very brave Captain, John
of Orleans, who carried the banner of the army.
When the King became aware of these mishaps, he
shook his head as if it were a bad omen ; and gave
special orders to the horsemen to avoid the edge of
the bank.
At two o'clock in the morning, the Crusaders reach
ed the ford. By the gray light of the breaking day,
they perceived an array of three hundred. Saracen
horsemen on the farther shore, placed there, doubt
less, to guard the pass. The Bedouin descended first
into the canal, crossed and returned, to demonstrate

292 THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA.
the practicability of the passage; 'the King then
counted out to him the stipulated reward. The Cru
saders immediately plunged into the water without
order, and arrived on the other side safely, but in
some confusion ; luckfly the bank was of a gentle
slope and easily surmounted.
The Count d'Artois, who was among the first that
crossed, no sooner gained the summit of the bank,
than,— -in defiance ofthe King's orders, — he dashed
forward to the attack. The Templars, accustomed
to lead, would not be left behind, and therefore press
ed forward after the Count and his knights, without
stopping to dismount the archers who rode behind
them. These two bodies moved with such celerity
that they surprised the Infidel guard, and bore the
news of their own arrival at their spears' heads, into
the very centre of the camp. The Saracens were
asleep and totally unprepared for the assault. The
archers dismounted and formed, the cavaliers de
ployed, and the carnage commenced. The Cru
saders, exasperated by a month's fruitless tofl and
suffering, now that they met their foes hand to hand,
fought with irresistible fury. They gave quarter to
no one ; but slew indiscriminately children, old men,
maidens, and warriors : some in their beds, some fly
ing through the rushes, some half-armed, and some
half-dressed. The Emir-Fakreddin was in the bath
when the cries of death, uttered by assailants and
victims, reached his ears. He sprang to the door of
his tent, seized a mace, mounted a runaway steed,
and without other arms, or any clothes, flew to the
spot where the noise was loudest, shouting, " Islam !
Islam !" in a voice that was heard through the camp.
He encountered the French at the moment they had

THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA. 293
made themselves masters of the fatal engines of war
which had so retarded their progress on the cause
way ; and found himself in the midst of their host
before he became aware of their presence. His body
was a mark for afl his foes, and he fell dead with
more than twenty wounds.
As the Saracens were now flying in all directions,
a knight named Foucault de Nesle, seized the bridle
ofthe Count d'Artois' horse and drew forward, cry
ing, " after them ! after them !"
The impetuous Count, who needed restraint much
more than such counsel, dashed his spurs into his
steed ; but the Grand Master of the Temple, brother
Giles, reined his horse across the pathway, reminding
the Count of the King's orders, — already too rashly
disregarded, — that the vanguard should wait the ar
rival of the whole detachment. Nesle, however, con
tinued to pufl on the Count's bridle, still shouting,
" After them 1" — for, being deaf, he had not heard the
King's orders, nor their repetition by brother GUes.
The Count, too much excited to regard the admo
nition of the Grand Templar, and, withal, irritated at
his boldness, struck the flat of his sword on Giles's
horse, and ordered him out of his way ; adding that
" they who were timid, might wait for the King, but
must not interrupt those who had no fear."
" We are no more afraid than yourself, my lord,"
answered brother Gfles ; " and where you go, whh
the help of God, we wfll go."
So saying, he wheeled his horse, and the knights
and templars renewed their rapid career after the
flying Saracens, striking down all before them ; di
verging from the straight-forward course whenever
they saw a group of fugitives out of the direct line ;
25*

294

THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA,

and thus rushing onward without order, but with
terrible destructiveness, they arrived at Mansoura,
The gates were open to admit the retreating Sara
cens, and the victorious Crusaders entered wUhout
hesitation ; but when they were fairly within the bar
riers, the gates were closed behind them, and this
smafl but deadly phalanx was shut up in a fortified
city garrisoned by the bravest of the Saracen troops :
the Baharite Mamelukes,
In the mean time, the King with the second and
the Count d'Anjou with the third troop of the de
tachment crossed the canal, and made their disposi
tions in face of a body of ten thousand Saracens,
who had rallied and were about to assume the of
fensive. The King took post on a rise of ground
with a great noise of clarions and horns, and there
paused to issue his orders. Tafler by the head than
all who surrounded him ; his casque, of gold ; his cui
rass, blazoned with golden fleurs-de-lis ; he seemed
the god of war. Christians and infidels, friends and
foes at once recognised him, and afl rushed towards
him, — one to attack and the other to defend.
The contest now waged was one of the most mag
nificent spectacles imaginable : ten thousand Sara
cens, splendidly arrayed, rushing upon as many hun
dred Crusaders, clad in steel : the former vastly ex
ceeded the latter in numbers ; but the latter, con
sisting of the chivalry of France, covered with im
penetrable armour, inspired by the presence of their
King, and fighting with invincible valour, sustained the
battle upon a footing of equality. The King, now in
the midst of all, now foremost of all, laid low scores
of Saracens with his own hand, and exposed his per
son to every danger.

THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA.

295

After frequently endeavouring to break the iron
ranks of the Christians, and enduring a prodigious
slaughter at each repulse, the Saracens drew off to
adopt another mode of warfare. New engines were
put in requisition, and showers of arrows, bolts, and
viretons, rattled like hafl on the bucklers and helmets
ofthe knights. The men, sheltered by their armour,
were but little annoyed by this attack ; their horses,
however, began to fafl, dragging the riders to the
earth. The King, seeing the ruinous consequences
of remaining in this position, in turn assumed the of
fensive : he gave orders to advance ; himself led the
charge, and the infidels were at length driven from
their ground. But the King, from the smallness of
his numbers, could not pursue his advantage, and was
compelled to retire to a defensive position on the
banks of the canal. The Saracens therefore rallied
and renewed, at proper distance, their attack with
the arrows. The Christians were again disordered
by this sustained fire from the bows and engines ; and
their enemies, perceiving their own advantage, aban
doned their projectiles, unslung their maces, drew
their swords, and charged in a solid mass, with loud
shouts of " Islam I Islam !" But the Crusaders, al
ways prepared for this sort of combat, replied to the
shouts with " Montjoie et Saint Denis !" closed their
ranks, and received the shock without wavering.
The contest now re-commenced, hand to hand, with
the same fury as in the morning.
The Crusaders who remained in the camp, and
who during the whole day had witnessed the conflict
from the other side of the canal, were now frantic
with impatience to join their brethren, from whom
they were separated only by a distance of an arrow's

296

THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA.

flight. They crowded down upon the causeway,
thrusting rafters, fragments of boats, and various
missiles into the water, which at length began to
take hold from the bottom, and rose irregularly above
the surface. This formed a sufficient obstruction to
detain the dead bodies of men and horses, together
with all manner of wariike weapons and instruments
that floated down with the current from Mansoura,
and from the whole intervening line of the canal, on
the banks of which the battle was raging. In this
manner a communication was established ; a bridge
was formed, — frail, uncertain, moving, infernal, but
still a bridge, — which extended to the opposite
shore. And on and over this the knights began
to move, in all the confusion of fierce haste and
eager joy.
It was time. The Christian combatants, oppressed
by such overwhelming numbers, and fatigued by in
cessant tofl, began to yield, when the shouts of the
new-comers announced effectual relief The rein
forcing multitude spread itself without a leader, with
out order, like a fire or a flood, led on by rage alone.
The Saracens paused ; the Crusaders raised the
shout of " Montjoie et Saint Denis I" and charged with
great fury. The infidels retreated fighting, but strew
ing the ground with their own corses as they went,
and the Christians pursued them beyond the limits of
their camp. Stifl, this, on the part ofthe infidels, was
a retreat only, not a flight : to the Christians it was an
advantage, and not a victory. Night descended with
its usual rapidity in eastern climates, and separated
the combatants. The Turks disappeared among the
tall reeds, and the Christians took possession of the
infidels' camp. The battle lasted seventeen hours.

THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA.

297

The Constable, seeing that the day was gained, re
quested Joinville to find out the King, and not to leave
him tfll he had dismounted his horse and entered his
pavilion. When the Seneschal joined Louis, he was
setting out to inspect the tents they were pitching on
the borders of the canal. Joinville took the heavy
and embossed casque from his majesty's head, and
replaced it with his own helmet, which, being of iron
beaten thin, was much lighter. At this time, brother
Henry, Prior of the Hospital of Ronnay, came up to
the King, and kissing his gaunflet, inquired if he had
received tidings of his brother, the Count d'Artois.
" Truly, yes !" said the King, with a stifled voice :
" I have very certain tidings ; my brother is in Para
dise." The prior attempted to console him by replying,
that never King of France had so much honour as he ;
since he had crossed a dangerous river, and chased a
numberless host of infidels from their camp.
" God be praised for all He has done !" answered
the good King; but notwithstanding the resignation
of the Christian, big tears rolled silently down the
cheeks of the brother.
They were now joined by Guyon de Malvoisin,
who was returning from Mansoura, to inform the
King of the disastrous particulars of his brother's
death. When the Saracens first saw the Christians' van
guard entering the gates of Mansoura, they suppo
sed that the whole army was immediately behind ;
and, giving themselves up for lost, they despatched
a pigeon to Cairo, with a letter couched in these
terms :
"At the moment when this bird is sent, the ene-

298

THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA.

my is attacking Mansoura : a terrible battle is waged
by the Christians against the Mussulmans."
This letter carried terror to the Capital of Egypt,
and the Governor commanded the gates to be left
open to receive the fugitives.
But as soon as the Saracens discovered how smafl
a number of their foes was within the walls of Man
soura, the Chief of the Mamelukes, a man of courage
and abflity, caused the trumpets to be sounded, the
drums beaten, and the portcullises lowered: and
while the Crusaders, supposing the town their own,
were pillaging the palace of the Sultan, he fefl upon
them with the Baharites — that soldiery of slaves
who were already the best troops of Egypt ; and on
whom Napoleon was to avenge, by the victory of the
Pyramids, the disaster of Mansoura.
Immediately, every Mussulman who could carry a
lance, draw a bow, or throw a stone, armed himself,
and prepared for battle. The Christians saw the
storm gathering, and prepared to meet it ; but in the
narrow streets of this Arabian city, they could nei
ther manage their horses nor use their swords to ad
vantage. Every window became an embrasure, pour
ing forth arrows and stones ; every terrace was a
rampart, whence flowed heated sand and boiling wa
ter. The Count of Salisbury and his Englishmen,
the Grand Master of the Temple and his monks, the
Sire de Coucy and his knights, rallied and pressed
around the King's brother, and maintained the con
flict without hope of victory, but with the faith and
determination of martyrs.
The Crusaders fought thus for five hours against
Bibars and his Mamelukes ; against the entire popula
tion of Mansoura ; having death before them, death

THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA. 299
behind them,' and death over their heads. They ,£ell
one afl;er another, and one by the side of adafltbe*')
The Count of Salisbury was slain at the hea(|of kis
knights; Robert de Vere, who carried the English
banner, wrapped it around himself like a mantle and
died in its folds. Ralph de Coucy expired in the
midst of a circle of Saracens, whom he had slain and
pfled around him. The Count d'Artois, beset in a
house to which he had retreated, defended himself
for more than an hour against as many infidels as the
apartment could contain. His cuirass, ornamented
with the-fleurs-de-lis, caused him to be mistaken for
the King, and all efforts were united against him, —
and he nobly replied to all by voice and sword, by
threats and blows.
At length, the Saracens, tired of a strife which cost
scores of their bravest men, sent directions to their
brethren below to set the house on fire, intending to
retreat as the flames arose, and leave the Count to be
consumed : but the brave knight, seeing their inten
tion, and aware that he could not escape, determin
ed, like Samson, to involve his enemies in his own
destruction. He forced his way to the door; and,
barring the aperture with his body and his weapons,
calmly awaited the issue. The fire progressed, —
the walls fell, — and Crusader and Saracens perished
in the flames.
The Grand Master of the Hospitallers remained
alone on the field ; and, having broken two swords,
and wielded his mace as long as he could lift his
arm, was made prisoner. The Grand Master of the
Templars, after seeing two hundred and eighty of
his knights fall at his side, threw himself, with four
survivors, into the canal, and swam, or forded, his

300 THE BATTLE OF MANSOURA.
way Jo the camp, with one eye destroyed, his clothes
t%fa, &nd his cuirass pierced with many blows. Of
all' that entered Mansoura, these five alone remain
ed' to tell the story of the fate of their companions.
At five o'clock in the evening of this day, a second
pigeon was despatched for Cairo, bearing intelligence
very different from that carried by its predecessor.
The letter announced that, with the help of Mahomet,
the French army that entered Mansoura, had been
defeated, and that the King of France, with the flow
er of his chivalry, was killed.
" This news," says an Arab author, " was the key
of joy for all true believers."

CHAPTER XIV.

THE HOUSE OF FAKREDDIN-BEN-LOKMAN.
The night was agitated : the Saracens, victorious at
Mansoura, had been totally vanquished on the bor
ders of the canal ; their whole camp was in the hands
of the Crusaders : the King, and the leaders of his
army, had pitched their tents around the captured
engines of war,
Joinvflle, who was quartered on the right of the
encampment, was awakened in the middle of the
night, by the cry, " To arms ! to arms !" His cham
berlain, despatched to learn the cause of alarm, re
turned in a moment, saying :
" Up, sir ! up, sir ! for here are the Saracens on
foot and on horse, slaughtering the men who keep
watch around the engines,"
At these words, Joinvifle hastily arose, armed him
self, and mustered his men. The whole camp was
speedfly placed in a posture of defence ; and the Sa
racens were repulsed with great loss. They were
not, however, pursued. A body of fresh troops was
ordered from the other side of the canal, to prevent
further disturbance, and the chevaliers slept securely
tfll morning.
This day, was the first Wednesday in Lent, and
26

302 THE HOUSE OF
the whole army began to do penance : only, instead
of ashes, the Legate strewed the King's head with the
sand of the Desert,
The Saracens were encamped on the plain, about
a stone's throw from the Christians ; but although, at
intervals, flights of arrows passed and repassed, and
a few trifling skirmishes occurred, no serious contest
was waged during this day. The Saracens in Man
soura were occupied with receiving the young Sultan
Tiiran-Shah, who had arrived on the preceding eve
ning. He came by the way of Cairo, and entered
the gates as the inhabitants were proclaiming Bibars
captain of the army in the place of Fakreddin. The
new Sultan confirmed the appointment ; and fully
believing the report that the King of France had
faflen, he caused the armour of the slain Count d'Ar
tois to be exhibited to the troops. The sight of this
gave additional courage to all ; and they were eager
to be led on by the Sultan, to revenge the losses they
had sustained ; but Bibars, thinking it better to take
a brief interval of rest, decided on Friday as the day
of battle.
This delay was especially desirable to the Crusa
ders ; and when. Louis was apprized by his spies of
the Sultan's intentions, he proceeded with alacrity to
prepare for his reception.
The causeway across the canal was now completed
in a proper manner, so that a perfect communication
existed between the two parts of the Christians' camp.
This causeway and canal were the base on which
rested the encampment of the Crusaders. On their
right was Mansoura, of bloody memory : on their left,
and at the western extremity ofthe plain of Daquelich,
were the ruins of Mendes ; and in front, the vast plain
that extends to Cairo.

FAKREDDIN-BEN-LOKMAN. 303
Louis divided his army into eight battalions, and
disposed them in a semi-circle, the convex segment
of which was thrown outward towards the enemy.
The first battalion, commanded by the Count d'Anjou,
rested on the bank of the canal, nearest to Mansoura :
these knights had lost most of their horses in the pre
ceding battle, and, together with their leader, were
all on foot. The next battalion was composed of
Crusaders from Cyprus and Palestine, under the
command of Messire Guy d'Ibelin and Messire Beau-
doin, his brother. These troops had been unable to
cross the causeway in time to join the last battle, and
were well mounted and vigorous. The third battal
ion was under the command of Messire Gauthier de
Chatillon : this troop was composed of the hest prud'
hommes and bravest chevaliers in the army. The
fourth battalion was the weakest of all ; consisting
of the broken remnant of the Templars, under the
command of the Grand Master, William Sonnac : it
was protected by a breast-work made of the Sara
cens' engines of war. The fifth battalion was that of
Messire Guy de Malvoisin ; small in number, but com
posed of valiant knights, brothers and friends — one
family, always fighting together, and together sharing
spoils, danger, glory. The sixth battalion was under
the command of the Count de Poitiers : this, like the
Count d'Anjou's division, consisted of dismounted
knights ; the leader, alone, being on horseback. The
seventh battalion was that of William, Count of Flan
ders : it had not taken part in the previous conflict,
and was fresh and eager. The eighth battalion, rest
ing on the canal near the ford, and completing the
semi-circle, was the shattered band of the Seneschal
de Champagne, that now sheltered itself under the

304

THE HOUSE OF

iron wing of the Count of Flanders, In the centre
ofthe circle, on a rise of ground, commanding a view
of the whole field, and ready to assist at any point
when needed, was Louis, surrounded by his most
vaHant and faithful followers, among whom were the
eight chosen men composing his personal body-guard,
and styled the prud hommes du roi. Along the bor
der of the canal, and within the wall of steel, were
the followers of the camp — butchers, grooms, sutlers,
women, and pages.
When the sun arose on the morning of Friday, the
Crusaders beheld the Saracen general at the head of
four thousand men well mounted and armed, whom
he first divided into battalions corresponding to their
own in number and position ; and then formed into a
semi-circle curving inwardly, so that each of his eight
divisions was opposite to, and at a uniform distance
from, those of the Christians. In addition to this array
of cavalry, he brought forward such a number of in
fantry as supported the horsemen, filled all the inter
vals, and enclosed as with a wall the whole French
camp. A third body of troops now made its appear
ance. These men were commanded by the young
Sultan in person, and posted in the rear to sustain
any part of the lines that might be too hardly pressed.
About mid-day, all the preparations being comple
ted, the Saracens advanced to the attack on the ex
treme right of the Crusaders — the division of the
Count d'Anjou. The infantry took the lead, armed
with tubes which ejected the Greek-fire ; and the
cavalry followed, to charge whenever the Christians
should become disordered by the effect of this dire
ful missfle. This disorder was soon produced, and
the cavalry were forming to take advantage of it,

FAKREDDIN-BEN-LOKMAN. 305
when the King rushed forward with his guards and
threw himself upon the infidels. A Saracen blew
the Greek-fire over him as he came up, so that his
horse was covered with it — but, by God's aid, this
mishap, which threatened so much evil to Louis,
proved ruinous to the Turks themselves. The noble
horse, blazing all over, and frantic with pain, disre
garded the rein and command of his master, and
dashed into the midst of the enemy's ranks ; Louis's
sword flashed around in aU directions, and he moved
like the exterminating angel. Behind him came those
valiant men, whose duty and desire led them to follow
their King wherever he went ; and such was the fury
of their onset, — thus unexpectedly hastened, — that
the infidel battalion was instantly and totafly routed.
During this encoimter the attack had extended along
the whole line, and with various success. The second
battalion received the enemy as became well mounted
knights, thirsting for the strife : the Saracen infantry
was overwhelmed and, — being, on the first shock,
abandoned by the cavalry, — literally cut to pieces.
The fourth battalion, under brother William Son
nac, sustained the assault with different fortune.
Their breast-work of wood was soon set on fire by
the infantry, and the Saracens rushed through the
flames like demons to destroy the remnant of this re
doubtable soldiery. But the enfeebled band even
here sustained their high reputation : they received
the assailants on the points of their lances, and forced
them back over the burning ruins of their rampart.
They could not, however, pursue them ; and the Sara
cen archers, standing at a little distance, rained show
ers of arrows in their turn. This was a fatal annoy
ance, and destroyed nearly all of the few remaining
26*

306 THE HOUSE OF
horses in the little company : the Grand Master and
four or five others alone remained on horseback.
The Saracens seeing them thus discomfited, again
charged in full force. The Grand Master, who had
lost one eye in Mansoura, was at this instant deprived
of the other by the stroke of a sword ; but, blind and
bloody, he forced his steed into the thickest of the
Saracen squadron, swung his sword at random, yet
with deadly effect, and sank, pierced wUh a hundred
wounds. The King now came to the aid of the Tem
plars, and routed the assailants with the same facility
as before.
Meanwhile, the Count de Poitiers was in great
peril. The infidel infantry advanced upon him, col
umn after column throwing their Greek-fire in every
direction, and the cavalry charged with effect among
the disordered knights. The brave Count threw him
self into the most dangerous situations, and was after
a time made prisoner. But as the Saracens were
leading him off in triumph, an unexpected reinforce
ment came to his rescue. The misceflaneous fol
lowers of the camp (placed in the rear for their own
protection, and not called on to assist in the combat)
seeing the Count, whom they all loved greatly, thus
in imminent danger, rushed forward as one man,
caught up indiscriminately the weapons with which
the ground was strewn, and fell upon the Saracens
with the utmost fury. The infidels, stunned by their
clamour and their sudden appearance, at once took
to flight, leaving the noble Count in the hands of his
volunteer militia.
The third and fifth battalions received the Sara
cens with steadiness, and repulsed them with great
slaughter. The seventh, under William of Flanders,

FAKREDDIN-BEN-LOKMAN.

307

SO disposed its lines as to cover the eighth, under Join
vifle. When the Saracens advanced to these united
battalions, the division of Joinville dispersed itself on
the two flanks, armed with bows ; and, by a galling
discharge of arrows, caused some disorder in the in
fidel ranks before they reached the knights. The lat
ter, with William at their head, improved the moment
to charge. The Turks could not for one instant sup
port the shock of this admirable troop ; they fled like
hares from the encounter, and part of their cavalry
escaped by the superior fleetness of their steeds ; but
for the infantry there was no hope ; confused, over
whelmed, surrounded by steel-clad men, whose
strength they coidd not cope with, whose armour
they could not penetrate, and whose impetuosity
they could neither understand nor resist, they sank
and disappeared to a man under the feet of their de
stroyers. Thus ended the battle ; the Crusaders everywhere
victorious. The Saracens had fled beyond the limits
of the camp, and were out of the reach of pursuit ;
but the field, for the length of a league and the breadth
of a thousand yards, was strewn, covered, piled with
the corses of their best troops,
Louis, seeing that the contest was terminated to
the great glory of his army, assembled his barons be
fore the royal tent and thus congratulated them :
" Lords and frieifds ! you can now see the great
goodness that God has shown and still continues to
show us. On Tuesday last, which was the day be
fore Lent, we did, by His assistance, chase and dis
lodge our enemies from their entrenchments, where
we are even now lodged. And to-day, on foot and
badly armed, we have defended ourselves against

308 THE HOUSE OF
numberless foes, well mounted, well armed, and sur
rounding us at all points."
And to France, to whom he owed nothing but the
truth, he sent this account, as honest and great as
his soul :
" On the first Friday in Lent, the camp was at
tacked by the whole Saracen force : but God declared
Himself for the French, and the infidels were repulsed
with great loss,"
Notwithstanding this second victory, Louis began
to be aware that the plan of his campaign was about
to fail. His army had sustained the loss of nearly afl
its horses, and a full third of its knights, and the re
mainder were exhausted with tofl ; while each day
augmented the numbers of the enemy. To proceed
to Cairo was impossible : to remain ih the present
encampment was perhaps possible, but certainly use
less an(i inglorious : yet, to retire to Damietta — to
retreat from a foe twice vanquished — this was not
to be thought of.
Such was the result of the first day's deliberations ;
and a fortnight of inaction passed, during which the
Christians vainly waited for a renewal of hostilities
on the part of the Saracens. Meanwhile the Chris
tians, rigidly observing the season of Lent, and re
stricting their diet, on the prescribed days, to the
miserable fish taken in the polluted waters of the ca
nal, began to suffer from the ^urvy ; the mephitic
exhalations from the half-buried and unburied corses
that burdened the ground, induced another epidemic
in the camp ; and these two phantoms caUed to their
aid one stfll more terrible — famine. The Saracens
had, with their fleet and their land-troops, completely
cut off all communication between the Crusaders and

FAKREDDIN-BEN-LOKMAN. 309
Damietta, and of course intercepted the supplies for
the army.
The last iflusion now vanished from the mind of
the King : retreat was indispensable ; U remained to
be seen 'if U were practicable. Preparations were
made at once to cross the causeway, regain the old
camp, man the flotifla, and proceed with afl haste to
Damietta. Louis was aware that this motion on his
part would draw upon him the full force of the Sara
cens, and he made his disposUions accordingly. The
sick and wounded were sent forward first ; after
them came the baggage and arms, and the King fol
lowed with a sufficient force to protect them. He
had, however, scarcely crossed the canal, when the
tumuU of a terrible attack by the Saracens on the
rear-guard, reached his ears. But the Count d'Anjou
and Gauthier de Chatillon with their best troops met
the infidels and repulsed them. The attack was not
renewed, and the rear-guard crossed the causeway
without further molestation.
The next day Louis despatched Messire Geoffrey
de Sargines, charged with full powers, to negotiate a
peace with the Sultan, The whole array watched
his departure, and awaited the issue in great solici
tude. About five o'clock in the afternoon he was
seen returning with a down-cast countenance.
. He reported that the negotiation proceeded thus :
Article I, Louis should restore to the Sultan the
city of Damietta, and the Sultan would place the
French in possession of Jerusalem. This was mutu
ally approved.
Article II, Louis should remove his troops, in
cluding the sick and wounded, to and from Damietta
without hinderance ; and should be allowed to take

310 THE HOUSE OF
from that city his stores of salted provisions. This,
also, was approved.
Article III. Louis proffered, as a hostage for the
fulfilment of his part of the treaty, one of his two
brothers, the Count d'Anjou or de Poitier's. The
Sultan, however, declined to receive any other host
age than the King himself: and here the negotiation
was broken off by Messire Geoffrey, who declared
that the whole Christian army, from its chief baron
to its meanest groom, would lay their lifeless corses
at the feet of the Saracen host, before one infidel
among them should place a finger upon the sacred
person of their King.
Retreat was now indeed unavoidable, and Louis
determined to march that very evening. Being him
self ill of the epidemic, he ordered Josselin de Cor
vant, inventor of the engines of war, to take post in
the rear ; and the moment the army commenced its
march, to destroy the causeway so that the Saracens
could not pursue them by a direct route. He then
summoned his mariners, and ordered them to have
their vessels in readiness at a specified hour to re
ceive all the sick and wounded, and safl for Dami
etta. One, only, of these important orders was executed.
For the purpose of deceiving the Saracens, the camp-
fires were lighted as usual ; and as soon as it was
dark, the disabled troops crowded towards the ves
sels, and the whole army began jts retreat : but, ei
ther from traitorous haste to escape, or from the im
practicability of the task, Josselin de Corvant failed
to break up the causeway ; and scarcely had a fourth
part of the sick and wounded been removed, when
the Saracens poured over the canal in overwhelming

FAKREDDIN-BEN-LOKMAN. 311
numbers, dispersing the surprised men-at-arms, and
slaughtering without mercy all the invalids they ap
proached. AU was now lost: the carnage was gen
eral; the plain for an extent of two leagues, was one
death-bed. The mariners cut the cables of their gal
leys, and departed with the few who were on board ;
a battalion of men was formed and placed under the
command of Erard de Vallery ; and Louis, with his
faithful Sargines, took post in the rear : the wound
ed, the sick, and the dying, were unavoidably aban
doned to the tender mercies of the enraged infidels.
The little band of Crusaders marched all night.
In the morning a strong wind arose which embar
rassed the flotilla, but materially aided the troops on
shore, as it drove clouds of sand in the faces of their
pursuers'. The Saracens saw that the Crusaders
were about to escape ; when, according to the Arab
historian, Salih, the Cadi Gazal-Uddin spoke to the
wind with a loud voice :
"In the name of Mahomet, I command thee to
direct thy breath against the French !" and the ve
racious historian adds, that the wind obeyed.
And, indeed, the wind changed, and so agitated
the surface of the Nile, that many vessels of the flo
tilla were upset, and others stranded. At the same
time the troops on shore were wofully discomfited by
the sand and the Saracens. They continued to re
treat, however, in tolerable order until they arrived
at Minie, where Louis was compelled to dismount in
so feeble a state, that his attendants thought he could
not live through the day. The Saracens soon arriv
ed in pursuit. Louis, for greater safety, was con
veyed to the palace of Abiah-Allah, Bey of Minie ;
and the Crusaders placed themselves at the entrance
ofthe narrow street that led to his quarters.

312 THE HOUSE OF
Here the last struggle took place. De Chatillon
commanded the band, which was composed of the
flower of French chivalry. The defence, as may be
supposed, was brave and obstinate to the last de
gree : but no valour could avail against such an ar
ray of numbers. The knights fell one by one to the
very last man ; not one escaped : but they lay terri
ble in death ; having slain an incredible proportion
of their assaflants.
The infidels now rushed upon the palace. When
Louis heard them attacking the doors, the courage of
the warrior triumphed over the resignation of the
martyr ; he arose and seized his sword, but almost
immediately fainted. In this condition he was found
by the Saracens. The next day he was removed to
Mansoura, taken to the house of Fakreddin-Ben-Lok
man, and placed under the guard of the eunuch
Sahib. Turan-Shah could not realize the truth of such a
victory, until a sight of the captive King demonstra
ted it : he then wrote to all his Governors, announ
cing the great news. The Arab historian, Makrisi,
has preserved one of these letters, which runs thus :
"Let thanks be rendered to the Almighty, who
has changed our sadness into joy I To Him alone we
owe the victory. The favours he has heaped on us
are innumerable, and the last is the most precious.
You wiU announce to all Mussulmans that God has
given us a prodigious victory over the Christians. On
Monday, the first day of this year, we opened our
treasury, and distributed its contents among our faith
ful soldiers. We gave them arms. We cafled the
Arab tribes to our assistance. A *countless multitude
of men ranged themselves under our standard. Du-

fakreddin-ben-lokman. 313
ring the night between Tuesday and Wednesday our
enemies abandoned their camp and baggage, and fled
towards Damietta. We pursued them, notwithstand
ing the darkness. Thirty thousand of their corses
strewed the field, and we cannot estimate the num
ber of those who threw themselves into the Nile, to
escape the fury of our soldiers. We killed and cast
into the river prisoners without number. The King,
having retreated to Minie, implored our clemency.
We have granted his life, and rendered him the hon
ours that his rank demands."
The news was not long in reaching Dattiietta. The
queen and the garrison were overwhelmed with
amazement and grief, but no care was lost in secu
ring the city against an attack from the Saracens.
One evening a considerable troop of armed men
appeared, in the distance, and directed their steps
toward the city. They wore the arms and displayed
the banners of the Christians ; but, as there was some
thing singular in their manner of advancing, the Gov
ernor caused the gates to be closed as they drew
near ; and, indeed, Oliver de Thernes soon discov
ered the tawny visages and long beards of the dis
guised Saracens, who had hoped to surprise the town.
Finding that their trick was detected and frustrated
by the vigilance of the Christians, they retired peace
ably. In the mean time, Turan-Shah proceeded to take
advantage of his victory by negotiating with the Kin<T
for his ransom ; and he proposed to set Louis at lib
erty, on condition of his restoring Damietta and the
cities previously taken by the French in Palestine.
The King replied that Damietta was his, because the
Lord had permitted him to conquer it ; but the cities
27

314 the house of
of Judea were not his, and he could not barter them.
The Sultan then proposed to receive Damietta and
the castles of Rhodes and the Temple. But the King
answered that compliance with this proposition was
equally impossible, as the Qastellians and governors
of these fortresses had sworn never to yield them to
the Saracens as a ransom for the body of any man:
not even that of the King.
Tiiran-Shah became exasperated at these answers,
and directed his ambassadors to inform Louis that he
should be put to the torture, unless he would accede
to his conditions. The King replied that he was the
Sultan's prisoner, and the Sultan could do with him
what he chose : for his own part, he would welcome
all pain which the Lord Jesus pleased to send.
The Sultan, stifl foiled, ordered the massacres ofthe
prisoners to re-commence ; and many thousands more
were slain and thrown into the Nfle. However, the
counsellors of the Sultan now remonstrated, and, at
their suggestion, a third proposal was made to the
King : viz. that he should be released, on the payment
of five hundred thousand livres. Louis returned an
swer that a King of France could not be ransomed
with gold ; but that he would redeem his army with
the sum specified, and himself by the restoration of
Damietta, Tiiran-Shah was so pleased with the no
bleness of this offer, that he exclaimed :
" By my faith ! the Frenchman is liberal, and scorns
to haggle about so large a sum. Go, tell him that I
accept the city of Damietta for his ransom, and abate
a hundred thousand crowns from the sum offered for
the ransom of his people."
The bargain was concluded, and the Sultan gave
orders that the King and his barons should embark

FAKREDDIN-BEN-LOKMAN. 315
in four galleys, and proceed to Damietta. The ves
sels came to anchor at Charescourt, where an inter
view was to take place between the two monarchs.
Turan-Shah had been educated in exfle on the
shores of the Euphrates, and had acquired there the
habits of indolence and' effeminacy bequeathed by
the Assyrians to their successors. He possessed a cer
tain elevation of character, but he lacked firmness of
purpose and maturity of judgement. When he arri
ved at Cairo, he seized upon his father's treasures, and
distributed them among his favourites : a most im-
pohtic act : as it impoverished the state to enrich a
parcel of useless men ; and, more especially, as it
gave great offence to those who had just saved Egypt
at Mansoura. These latter were the Baharite Mam
elukes, commanded by Bibars ; a body of men who,
at that time and for seven succeeding centuries, dis
posed of the lives of the Egyptian Sultans. The corps
was originally formed by Nedjm-Eddin, the father
of Turan-Shah. At the siege of Naplosa, he was one
day basely abandoned by his troops, and bravely sup
ported by his Turkish slaves, purchased from Syrian
merchants. Grateful for the courage and devotion
which he had no right to expect, he loaded these
men with benefits ; raised them to the highest digni
ties, and confided to their care the palace he had just
built on the island of Roudah.
Such men were to be feared : and the wiser coun
sellors of the new Sultan advised him not to break
terms with them. But he, young, inexperienced,
transferred abruptly from exfle to a throne, and from
the dignity of a monarch to the triumph of an almost
unheard-of conqueror, laughed at advice given, as it
usually was, in the midst of his orgies. He would.

316 THE HOUSE OF
on these occasions, draw his sabre, cut off the wicks
of the candles that lighted the repast, and exclaim :
" Thus wfll I serve the Baharites !"
His triumphs and his follies, however, were desti
ned to a speedy termination. He gave a feast at
Charescourt to his Mamelukes, which was sumptuous
and free ; but, he did not observe, that during the re
past, the Mamelukes held occasional conversations in
whispers, with the other guests. When he arose to re
tire, he asked Bibars to hand hitn his sabre, which he
laid down on entering the apartment. The Emir did
not obey, and the Sultan reiterated his demand in an
imperious voice ; when Bibars drew the sword from
its sheath, and struck him with it, cutting severely the
third and fourth fingers of his hand. The Sultan
held up his bleeding hand, and shouted to the com
pany for help ; but the other Emirs drew their sa
bres, exclaiming, " We do to thee but as thou wish-
est to do to us ; and it is better that thou, who art a
coward, shouldest die, than we, who are brave !"
Turan-Shah saw his danger, fled swiftly to the tow
er, and fastened the doors behind him. Bibars, fear
ing that the army might come to the Sultan's aid,
immediately left the pavflion, and addressed the
troops. He assured them that Damietta was taken,
and commanded them in the name of the Sultan, to
repair thither at once. Not suspecting any deception,
they promptly obeyed, and the Mamelukes were soon
left alone to deal with their victim.
The Sultan now came to a Vi^indow of the tower,
and appealed for mercy to the Mamelukes, who were
all under arms beneath him. Bibars commanded
him to descend ; but he refused, unless they would
first promise that his life should be spared. Bibars

FAKREDDIN-BEN-LOKMAN.

317

yet hesitated to attack the tower, lest some soldiers
might be concealed there, who were disposed to de
fend the Sultan. He, therefore, formed with his
men a large circuit, completely enclosing the tower
between them and the Nile : he then ordered a dis
charge of heated arrows on this last refuge of his un
fortunate sovereign. The tower, buflt of wood, was
soon enveloped in flames ; and Turan-Shah, to es
cape being burned alive, was forced to throw him
self from a window about twenty feet from the
ground ; he then ran towards the river, hoping to get
on board the gaUey of that King, whom, only the
day before, he had menaced with perpetual captivity
or death.
The Mamelukes pursued him, and Bibars gave him
another wound before he reached the water. He
plunged in, however, and struck out for the gafleys ;
but he was soon overtaken by the Mamelukes, who
despatched him with poignards, and drew his body to
the shore.
Bibars then took a boat, and with a number of his
brethren, went on board the King's galley. He
agreed to conform to the conditions of the treaty
made by his murdered master, and words and oaths
were mutually pledged for its fulfilment.
Damietta was free. The King paid down one
half of the stipulated ransom for his troops ; and the
sick and wounded were left as hostages for the re
mainder. In a few days, Louis, having faithfully performed
his promises as a King and a Christian, departed
from Egypt —the queen and her retinue having sail-
. ed a day or two before — with three galleys, and
five hundred knights ; the only remains of that army

318 THE HOUSE OP FAKREDDIN-EEN-LOKMAN.
which originally landed at Damietta in eleven hun
dred vessels, and which consisted of nine thousand,
five hundred cavaliers, and a hundred and thirty
thousand foot-soldiers.
Eighteen years after, an Arab poet, named Ismael,
having learnt that Louis was preparing for a second
Crusade, wrote the following words :
" Frenchman ! art thou ignorant that Tunis is the
sepulchre of Cairo ? Think of the fate that awaits
thee. Thou wilt find in Tunis a tomb instead of the
house of Fakreddin-Ben-Lokman ; and the two an
gels ofdeath, Monkyr and Nekyr, superseding the eu
nuch Sahib, wifl ask thee. Who is thy God ? Who is
thy Prophet ?"
Louis embarked for Tunis ; and on the 25th of Au
gust, A. D. 1270, the prediction of the poet was ac-
compHshed.

THE END.

3 9002 07617 8640

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