During our drive we came to Europa Point, from which we could see Gibraltar and Spain, Algecirus, where the Peace Conference was held, the blue and hazy Atlas Mountains of Africa, the sparkling waters of the Mediterranean and, in the distance, the sweep of the broad Atlantic. The sight was beautiful beyond description, and more varied than it is often the privilege of humans to witness.
In the town were soldiers everywhere, mostly wearing red coats although some were clothed in khaki. Whichever way we turned were barracks, guns, ammunition and such things as pertain to war. Among the curiosities were a thousand-pound gun and the largest dry-docks in the world. In the bay lay the English squadron and many foreign men-of-war, one floating the Stars and Stripes and looking very homelike. Besides these the water was sprinkled with a collection of curious craft such as we never dream of at home.
While I write this some one says: “Land in sight!” so I must get up a moment to investigate. I find we are nearing the Island of Sardinia.
Returning to the subject of Gibraltar, I want to tell you how funny the street scenes are. Every step you meet one of the wee, solemn donkeys bearing immense baskets slung on each side of him, which are filled with coal, vegetables, and even milk cans. Then you bump into a drove of goats, standing idly while one of them is being milked to supply some customer. Flower women are numerous, and men with baskets of cakes, while peddlers of every sort are in evidence. The “shops” (English, you know,) are small and mostly kept by Moors and Spaniards. We visited the markets in the lower end of town. On one side the street are the English/Spanish markets, where are sold flowers, fruits, vegetables, dried dates and meats. The purchasers are mostly women and carry their goods home in quaint open-work baskets. I bought one of these baskets, filled with fine oranges and tangerines. Across the street is the Moorish market, where are sold eggs, birds and poultry (mostly alive), and baskets and mats. The market men here are Moors, and all over the town these queer people may be seen. They appear just as the pictures of them we have seen led us to imagine they would. They are barelegged, ragged, and dirty beyond comprehension, but the meanest wear red leather slippers and voluminous robes with hoods. The Moors come across the bay in swarms every day, and many remain and sleep upon the streets at night. Africa is only a step distant. After we left Gibraltar we had the coast line of Africa, with its glorious Atlas Mountains — snow-capped but with many shifting hues outlining their rugged slopes — in full view all the afternoon. Where the sun touched the snow it lent it lovely pink and red hues that were as beautiful as they were gorgeous.
Tonight is the night of the “Captain’s Dinner,” a formal ceremony that occurs near the end of every trip. The dining-room is being elaborately trimmed and the waiters will wear fancy costumes. I will write you about this event later on. Just now we are all eagerness to see the Bay of Naples, which we should enter early tomorrow morning. It is needless to say that I shall be up in time to catch the first glimpse of what I am told is one of the most beautiful bays in the world.
By the way, I forgot to tell you of the Moorish Castle at Gibraltar. It has been there since the Moors conquered Spain, and it looks it. It stands on a high bluff overlooking the sea, and its sides resemble a checkerboard. Some one says Gibraltar is peeling; but we didn’t notice it. Anyhow, there’s a good deal of peel left yet. It seems as solid as the Rock of Ages.
This letter may ramble some, but I can’t get my subjects to stand in a straight line, so I can introduce them one at a time. They’ve broken ranks, and I have to grab them as I come to them.
LETTER III. FROM ITALY TO EGYPT
Shepherd’s Hotel, Cairo
In my last letter I promised to tell you about the Captain’s Dinner, which is always given the last night aboard an ocean liner. The dining-room was beautifully decorated with Italian, German and American flags, with shields of the different countries between them. The dome in the center was festooned with greens and the pillars covered with bunting. On the three long tables were three tall lighthouses, one with a white light and the other two with red lights. On the small tables were wonderful concoctions of cake surmounted by the Goddess of Liberty, mermaids, fish, and so forth. They were also trimmed with small paper flags of all nations, as well as with those bonbons that snap and have caps in them. We were served an extra good dinner and had extra music. Just before dessert all the lights were turned off and the lighthouses were lighted up. Then the waiters appeared marching in single file with illuminated ice creams. First came some carrying Jap lanterns and banners, then the platter-bearers with round moulds of colored ices — green, white, pink and blue. The effect was obtained by freezing ice in the shape of an inverted bowl, coloring it before freezing, of course, and in the hollow placing a lighted candle. The frozen creams were arranged around this illuminated center, and were figures of Japs holding parasols, fans, etcetera. As the room was all in darkness save for these brilliant desserts, they made a pretty sight. The crowd was a jolly one, and we all opened our bonbons and wore the paper caps, as children do at a party.
Well, next morning we entered Naples. The bay is no doubt beautiful, but it was foggy, so at this time we could not get a proper idea of it. The top of Vesuvius was enveloped in clouds. While we lay at quarantine many natives came around the steamer in small boats, calling the names of friends they hoped would be in the steerage. Other boatmen offered violets to the first-class passengers by fastening bunches of the flowers to long poles and reaching these up to the deck so that you could take your choice of them. Attached to the pole was a small basket in which you could place your money. No one was allowed on board until the quarantine inspectors had been through the ship and given us a clean bill of health. When this ceremony was over, though, it seemed as if bedlam had been let loose, for everyone was rushing here and there after baggage and trying to get a boat to go ashore. We were soon transferred from the “Irene” to the “Hohenzollern,” without getting a chance to put our feet on the shores of Italy. Once in our new quarters we clung to the deck to watch the sights, for this steamer was also surrounded by native boats. Baskets of oranges “velly cheap” were offered by some, while from others expert divers leaped into the water to grasp a coin in their mouths tossed overboard by some passenger on our deck. Groups of musicians filled some of the boats, playing mandolins and violins and singing the Neapolitan songs. Fortunately, just before we sailed the sun came out and gave us a chance to see how really beautiful the Bay of Naples is.
We sailed at 12:30 and began a very stormy and rough trip to Alexandria. I had never dreamed any boat could roll so, but neither of us was sick. All the way over we had racks on the tables and lifelines on the decks. It was a frightful voyage, and in no way enjoyable.
Leaving the Bay of Naples we passed Capri, the beautiful island most famous as the residence of Tiberius. We could see his ancient castle and the rocky cliffs over which he tossed his prisoners — a little diversion to cheer him up on a gloomy day. These rocks look much more imposing than Gibraltar. We expect to visit Capri on our way back from Egypt.
Friday morning we reached historic Alexandria, and the first thing I saw in the famous city of Alexander, Antony and Cleopatra was a Standard Oil tank. My next vision was a line of automobiles on the quay, and these things were as disappointing as they were unexpected. I’d forgotten that if you visit Alexandria today you find the Alexandria of our civilization, and not the one we have read about. However, the scene on the quay was very gay, with Turks in their red fezes, the Arabs in their burnous, soldiers, sailors and citizens of all nations. We were promptly transferred by “Cook” from the boat to the train, so we could see nothing of the city; but that, too, is a sight reserved for the return trip. The railway journey to Cairo was intensely interesting, each station at which we stopped teeming with native life. The Egyptians wear a variety of colors, but principally favor the different shades of blue. The women, though, are clad all in black; only the men are gorgeous. We passed many camels with their riders and burdens —
the packs being immense in every case. Even the small donkeys were heavily loaded. All the villages and towns seemed made of mud, and had queerly shaped domes for roofs, the houses being round. In each town is a mosque of more or less imposing construction. The land is well irrigated and the crops appeared to be in a flourishing condition. Just now the Nile is gradually falling in volume, and the rule is to plant crops as soon as the water begins to recede. The stock consists of small brown sheep, buffalo-cows, camels, oxen and donkeys. I saw but one or two horses. In this part of the Delta the irrigation is obtained by means of water-wheels, which are turned by buffalo-cows which have been blindfolded, or by children. We crossed several branches of the Nile, passed through one city which was called Horus in ancient times, and many villages that looked like they had escaped the flood. Near Horus was found the Rosetta Stone, which has enabled Egyptologists to decipher the hieroglyphics.
Arriving at Cairo we were dumped into a station filled with howling, shrieking maniacs. There were hundreds of Turks, Arabs and Fellahin Egyptians, all wearing red fezes and gowns of every color (dirt-color predominating) who grabbed every one at our luggage and yelled their foreign lingo at the top of their voices. At first I thought it was a free fight, and indeed it was wildly exciting for a while. But we were finally captured by two robbers who claimed to be a dragoman and a porter and driven in high style to our hotel. All three of our hirelings — driver, dragoman and porter — hustled us and our hand luggage into the hotel lobby, and then L. F. prepared to separate himself from his hard-earned savings. The bill was five piasters, or twenty-five cents.
Perhaps Shepherd’s is the most famous hotel in all the world. Although the most ancient one in Egypt, it is now quite modernized, and has been decorated in royal Egyptian style, which seems appropriate and enticing. We secured a nice room and busied ourselves getting unpacked and settled. In the evening we rushed to the dining-room, where I could easily imagine myself on the stage of a comic opera. The chairs are high-backed and upholstered all in red morocco leather. The waiters are Turks and Arabs. They wear white, baggy trousers, scarlet embroidered jackets and red fezes. I haven’t seen a native yet without his red fez. Perhaps he sleeps in it. The head waiters, or “directors” wear elaborate braided and embroidered costumes that are wonderful and awe-inspiring. And the guests have brought along their gladdest rags to show off in, so that the scene is fairly entitled to be called magnificent. A Hungarian Gypsy Band of sixty pieces, all in red and gold, was perched in a bower of ferns and saluted our entrance with selections from the Wizard of Oz. It was a decidedly novel experience, as you can imagine; but I thoroughly enjoyed it all.
After dinner we wandered into the streets and had coffee at a native restaurant, sitting at a little table on the sidewalk. We enjoyed that, too, for the street scenes are bewildering to plain American folks. Such color and such life! The people here — or many of them, anyway — eat, sleep and live in the streets, and here is peddled everything imaginable, from cake to cloth-of-gold. The minute a stranger steps out a dozen vendors are after him. There are the water-carriers with their queer-shaped jars, flower boys, men with souvenir postals, flywhips, strawberries and rolls of oilcloth. No women or girls sell goods. The females are all veiled, perhaps to hide their ugliness.
Before the carriages of the wealthy, men run to whip the horses and clear the way. Men of all ranks wear gowns — and these remind me of night-gowns more than anything else.
Cairo is the City of the Pyramids, and I forgot to mention that nine miles before we reached Cairo I could see the Libyan hills and the group of pyramids, in the distance. As yet we have not seen them much nearer. This morning we roamed around the streets, and this afternoon we visited the Museum, where we saw many of the wonderful works of this most ancient people. The carving on some of these monuments is wonderful, and those of red granite are exquisite in coloring and massive beyond compare. We think the work of the earlier dynasties better than the work of later ones, and especially is the proportion of the statuary better. There was an especially fine work from the period of the Third Dynasty, a group consisting of Prince Rahotep and his wife Nefert. Their features are colored to represent life, and the coloring is now as fresh as if it had been done yesterday. The eyes are made of white quartz, with dark pupils and colored iris, giving them depth and expression very lifelike. These quartz eyes are to be found in many of the earlier statues. The bodies of the Prince and his wife were a light copper color, giving us a clue to their complexions.
We saw the mummy of the Second Ramses, who is called “the Great.” His hair is bright red, he had high cheek bones, and a nose that is shaped like a Jew’s. To think that he should be here to be stared at by the public — he who had such a magnificent career and considered himself equal to a god! And the man himself seems so puny when compared to the mighty works that live after him and arouse our admiration to this day. His mummy case is beautifully decorated, inside and out, and he stares back at us, haughty and indifferent.
This is a great museum, and has many treasures of rare antiquity. We saw plans of ancient reservoirs, many statues in copper, beautifully executed, others in wood most skillfully carved, and numberless granite sphinxes. The wood statues are in a good state of preservation, and one of them has jointed limbs, like a modern doll. The steles, or stellae, used as doors before tombs, are interesting. They bear inscriptions relating the deeds and works which the occupants of the tombs accomplished in life. Alabaster sarcophagi are plentiful, and there are sacrificial tables and statutes of the same precious stone. Tablets bearing hieroglyphic inscriptions make one long to be able to read them. On one is depicted the wars of an unknown king, and finally his leave-taking of all the good things he has gained on earth to begin his journey to the Unknown World. This inscription is carved and colored, and still very fresh and bright.
But we have been only one day in Cairo, as yet. If the place proves as interesting as it promises, there will be much more to tell you later.
LETTER IV. CAIRO
Shepherd’s Hotel, Cairo
Wednesday we hired a guide — one of the native Egyptians whose blood is still pure and not contaminated by Arabic or Turkish infusions — and proceeded to “see Cairo” in a methodical fashion. The guide is a “dragoman” in Egypt, you know, and a person of much dignity and importance. He takes you wholly in charge, hires your carriages, pays your admittance fees to all the mosques and other places, plans your program in his own way, takes a paternal care of you wherever you may be, and each evening settles with you for the day’s expenses. He speaks good English and is chock full of information concerning everything that has happened or existed for the last six thousand years. You sometimes suspect he is not quite accurate, but it will require a lot of study to prove it. If your dragoman differs from the guide books or the historians and Egyptologists, you will find it most comfortable to decide that they are all wrong and he is right. As a matter of fact, his information is usually reliable and of vast assistance to the uninformed tourist.
On this Wednesday we saw most of the famous mosques of Cairo. That of Sultan Hassan was built in 1356 of huge blocks of stone taken from the pyramids. In the center of the court is a fountain, such as all mosques have, where the devotees wash their feet, hands and faces before they venture to pray. The Mohammedan must be clean before he addresses God or the Prophet. In a corner of the courtyard stands the tomb of Hassan. Napoleon’s army partially destroyed this mosque, one of the most important in Cairo; but just now it is being restored. A more magnificent and stately edifice is the mosque of Mohammed Ali, known as “the alabaster mosque,” because it is built throughout of that rare material. It took about all the alabaster there is in Egypt, and an attendant holds a candle behind a four-foot wall and lets you see that the stone is clear and transparent. Indeed, this mosque is very beautiful and impressive. It is in perfect condition and in daily use. The fountain of the court is also alabaster, and resembles in shape an octagonal summer house. On each of the
sides is a place for the votary to perform his ablutions. When he raises a bronze ring, that reminds one of an old-fashioned knocker, the water issues forth in a stream. All mosques contain pulpits placed high above the heads of the people and reached by an ornamental flight of steps. Here the priest stands to read the Koran every Friday. Each mosque also provides a handsome chair for the use of the Sultan or the Khedive. There are no other chairs. The men kneel on the stone floor, facing the east (where Mecca lies) and the women are huddled into the galleries. There is always an arched altar, built of ornamental colored stones, where the Sultan is supposed to kneel to offer up his prayers.
The mosque of Mohammed Ali is lighted by hundreds of glass lamps suspended by means of chains from the high-domed ceiling. The lamp itself is shaped like a fish-globe and filled with water and oil. The oil rises to the top and a wick floats upon it. These lamps are lighted but once every year. There are many elaborate stained glass windows, in which green, the holy color, predominates. Handsome and almost priceless rugs cover the floor, and the Christian dogs are only allowed to enter a mosque after covering their feet with consecrated slippers provided for that purpose and paying a fee to assist in the support of the faithful.
Cairo is full of mosques, all similar in construction, and the above general remarks apply to all alike. But each mosque of course has its peculiarities and its history. That of the Sultan Hassan boasts magnificent doors of bronze, gold and silver, most beautifully and skillfully worked. There is also a vast deal of carved inlaid work of ebony, ivory, mother of pearl and silver in every mosque that claims the least importance. In a tower of the mosque of Mohammed Ali is a clock presented to the great Sultan by King Louis Philippe of France.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 895
