CHAPTER VIII
INTIMATE TALKS WITH TWO KHEDIVES
To-day Egypt is governed by a king. Her last sovereign had the title of sultan, and for fifty years before that she was ruled by khedives. There were four khedives in that time, and with two of them I had face-to-face chats. The first was with Tewfik Pasha, whom I met in the Abdin Palace during my second visit to Cairo. The other was with Abbas Hilmi, the son and successor of Tewfik, with whom I talked sixteen years later. Abbas Hilmi’s pro-German intrigues finally led to his being deposed by the British and to the establishment of the Protectorate, which ended in the nationalization of Egypt under a ruler with the title of king.
I give you here the stories of the two interviews, reproducing the notes I made at the time.
I have just returned from a long audience with the Khedive of Egypt. Khedive is a Persian-Arabic word, meaning “king,” and Mohammed Tewfik occupies much the same position now as the Pharaohs did in the days of Moses. It is true that he is in a measure the vassal of the Sultan of Turkey to whom he pays a tribute of about three and three quarter million dollars a year, and that he has also several European advisers who keep sharp watch over the revenues of his kingdom to see that a great part of them go to the interest on the debts that he and his predecessors have contracted with the bankers of Europe. But he is, nevertheless, the king of Egypt, and as kings go to-day, he has more power than many other monarchs. His residence in Cairo is a grand palace with hundreds of rooms filled with magnificent furniture. He drives about the city with soldiers carrying swords, riding prancing horses in front of his carriage, and with a score of cavalry following behind. He has five hundred thousand dollars a year for his personal expenses, and he has several palaces besides the one he occupies in Cairo.
It was at the Abdin Palace that I met His Highness to-day. The interview had been arranged by the American consul general. We left his office together in the consular carriage. The dragoman of the legation, a bright-eyed Syrian in the most gorgeous of Turkish clothes of brown covered with gold embroidery and with a great sword shaped like a scimitar clanking at his side, opened the carriage door for us and took his seat by the coachman. The Arabian Jehu cracked his whip and away we went through the narrow streets. We drove by the modern European mansions of the rich Greeks, past the palaces of Egyptian princes from which came the sweet smell of orange flowers and over which whispered broad spreading palms. We then went through a business street amid droves of donkeys, through a caravan of camels, by veiled women clad in black, past the palace in which Ismail Pasha had his harem when he was khedive, and on into a great square of many acres. On the right of this square were vast barracks filled with Arab troops in blue uniforms and fezzes. A regiment of Egyptian troops was going through a gymnastic drill, performing the motions as well to-day as they did at the time when our American General Stone was their commander and when General Grant reviewed them and said that they seemed to be good soldiers for everything except fighting.
The Abdin Palace, built in the form of a great horseshoe, is at the end of this square. It is a vast building of two stories, of brown stucco, with many windows and a grand entrance way in the centre. At the left there is a door leading to the harem, and as our carriage drove up we were passed by a closed coach drawn by two magnificent Arabian horses. On the box beside the liveried coachman sat a scowling eunuch whose black skin and dark clothes were all the more sombre by contrast with his bright red skullcap. In front of the carriage ran two fleet syces with wands or staffs held up in the air in front of them, warning plebeians to get out of the way. I was told that the carriage was that of a princess who was about to make a call upon the Khedivieh, or queen. These runners, who are a part of every nobleman’s turnout, are among the most picturesque sights of Egypt.
At the door of the palace stood two pompous soldiers with great swords in their hands. They were in Turkish costumes with embroidered jackets of blue and gold and full zouave trousers of blue broadcloth. Upon their heads were turbans, and their faces made me think of the fierce troops that conquered this land in the days of the Prophet. Passing up the massive steps we came to the palace door which was opened by an Arab clad in European clothes and wearing the red fez, which the Egyptian never takes off in the house or out of it. We were ushered into a grand entrance hall, floored with marble mosaic, the walls of which were finished in cream and gold. In front of us a staircase so wide that two wagonloads of hay could be drawn up it without touching led by easy flights to the second floor, while at the right and the left were the reception rooms for visitors and halls leading to the apartments reserved for the chamberlains, masters of ceremonies, and other officers of the royal household. After chatting a moment with one or two of the cabinet ministers, who were just passing out after a council with His Highness, we moved on up the stairs. In one of the drawing rooms on the second floor we were met by another Egyptian official in black clothes and red fez who conducted us to a reception room, the door of which stood open, and motioned us to enter.
In the centre of this room, which was not larger than a good-sized American parlour, there stood all alone a man of about thirty-six years of age. He was dressed in a black broadcloth coat buttoning close up at the neck like that of a preacher. Lavender pantaloons showed below this, fitting well down over a pair of gaiter-like pumps. On the top of his rather handsome head was a fez of dark red with a black silk tassel. This man was the Khedive of Egypt. He is, I judge, about five feet six inches in height and while rather thick-set, does not weigh more than one hundred and fifty pounds. His frame is well rounded, his head is large, and his features are clean cut. He has a nose slightly inclined to the Roman. His forehead is high, and the dark brown eyes that shine from under it change from the grave to the smiling during his conversation. The Khedive extended his hand and said he was glad to see me and that he liked to have Americans come to Cairo. Seating himself on a divan, with one leg doubled up under him, he motioned me to join him. There was an absence of pomp or snobbishness in his manner, and though dignified he did not put on half the airs of the average backwoods member of our House of Representatives. As he seated himself, his black coat opened so that I had a chance to note the contrast between his costume and that of the gorgeous rajahs whom I have met in India. His only jewellery consisted of a set of pearl studs the size of the smallest of peas and a watch chain of thin links of gold. He wore a cheap black bow tie in his white turnover collar, and his cuffs, though scrupulously clean, had not the polish of the American laundry.