The Englishwoman in Egypt
Letters from Cairo
9781465630292
313 pages
Library of Alexandria
Overview
The blessing of going into port, at the conclusion of a first long voyage, awakens feelings so deep and so lasting, that it must form a striking era in the life of every traveller. Eagerly, during a long morning, did I and my children strain our eyes as the low uninteresting coast of Egypt spread before our view, that we might catch the first glimpse of one or more of those monuments of which we had hitherto only heard or read. The first object which met our view was the Arab Tower, which stands on a little elevation; and shortly after, the new lighthouse on the peninsula of the Pharos, and the Pasha’s army of windmills, showed our near approach to Alexandria, and the Pillar (commonly called Pompey’s) seemed to rise from the bay. The coast presents to the Mediterranean a long sandy flat, bearing throughout a most desolate aspect, and in no part more so than in the neighbourhood of Alexandria. To the west of this town we see nothing but a tract of yellowish calcareous rock and sand, with here and there a few stunted palm-trees, which diversify but little the dreary prospect. The old or western harbour (anciently called Eunostus Portus) is deeper and more secure than the new harbour (which is called Magnus Portus). The former, which was once exclusively appropriated to the vessels of the Muslims, is now open to the ships of all nations; and the latter, which was “the harbour of the infidels,” is almost deserted. The entrance of the old harbour is rendered difficult by reefs of rocks, leaving three natural passages, of which the central has the greatest depth of water. The rocks occasion a most unpleasant swell, from which we all suffered, but I especially; and I cannot describe how thankfully I stepped on shore, having passed the smooth water of the harbour. Here already I see so much upon which to remark, that I must indulge myself by writing two or three letters before our arrival in Cairo, where the state of Arabian society being unaltered by European innovations, I hope to observe much that will interest you with respect to the condition of the native female society. I do not mean to give you many remarks on the manners and customs of the male portion of the people, my brother having written so full a description of them, the correctness of which has been attested by numerous persons, who cannot be suspected (as his sister might be) of undue partiality. To tell you of our landing, of the various and violent contentions of the Arab boatmen for the conveyance of our party, of our really polite reception at the customhouse, and of our thankfulness when enjoying the quiet of our hotel, would be to detain you from subjects far more interesting; but I long to describe the people by whom we were surrounded, and the noisy crowded streets and lanes through which we passed. The streets, until we arrived at the part of the town inhabited by Franks, were so narrow that it was extremely formidable to meet any thing on our way. They are miserably close, and for the purpose of shade, the inhabitants have in many cases thrown matting from roof to roof, extending across the street, with here and there a small aperture to admit light; but the edges of these apertures are generally broken, and the torn matting hanging down: in short, the whole appearance is gloomy and wretched. I ought not, however, to complain of the narrowness of the streets, for where the sun is not excluded by matting, the deep shade produced by the manner in which the houses are constructed, is most welcome in this sunny land; and, indeed, when we arrived at the Frank part of the town, which is in appearance almost European, and where a wide street and a fine open square, form a singular contrast to the Arab part of the town, we scarcely congratulated ourselves; for the heat was intense, and we hastened to our hotel, and gratefully enjoyed the breeze which played through the apartments.
