The French influence is evidently suffering an eclipse since the Franco-German war—perhaps because heretofore too much asserted. The young everywhere were, I was told, now preferring to learn English instead of the French language, which hitherto had been taught in almost all classes of schools along with the native language of the place. Indeed, I saw many indications that our national popularity in the East generally was steadily rising—probably because England has always shown the greatest deference and consideration to the Turkish governments, or perhaps I should rather say Turkish misrule.
In returning to our hotel I was addressed (somewhat aside) by a middle-aged, sailor-looking Arab. He spoke a few broken English and French words, which I did not well comprehend, nor he mine; but I understood he wished me to engage as a servant for my travels a young man about eighteen, with a fine open face, very black, but not negro, who stood a few paces off. He was dressed in a blue cotton sailor’s jacket, but otherwise like an Arab, and I think he was said to be from Nubia. On mentioning this circumstance to a gentleman at the hotel, he said the man was a slave dealer from the south, who was trying to sell me some of his stolen property! This certainly had not occurred to me at the time, but it is possible, because such things are, I was told, still occasionally done—privately of course.
By rail to Cairo, along the Nile Valley, is 130 miles—a most interesting journey. The engines and plant are English or French make, the fuel being artificial coal. The villages, “highways,” and irrigation works are specially novel. In the distance the former seem like large-sized square huts clustered in groups. They are built of sun-dried bricks, which are quite as black as and not unlike Scotch peat. This locality is thickly populated, and we saw in the distance several considerable towns and numerous villages.
In this delta the Nile is broken into numerous branches. Standing north and south is a beautiful long line of palms so remarkably uniform as to give the idea of a vast line of columns of singular architectural merit. Seen from a distance the illusion was in my eyes perfect, and I have no doubt the famous Moorish Arch was originally suggested by some such row of palm trees, not only in its form, but even in its details.
Egypt gets drier and more healthy as we travel inland. There no rain falls; the soil is sandy, and the temperature so high that vegetable or animal matters not devoured by the dogs get so quickly dried up that putrefaction or fermentation is rarely seen. Otherwise the country would not enjoy the high hygienic repute it does. The Nile water tastes pleasantly, but after a time many travellers find it necessary to drink it sparingly.
We stayed about a fortnight in the Grand New Hotel, a very fine stone building, of great size, and conducted quite in the Parisian style—cooking somewhat inferior, as also the viands—and here, at the large table-d’hôte, a citizen of the world is quite at home. The only other great hotel is Shepherd’s—equally well known. In such a ménagerie of travellers, one occasionally meets with most desirable company, but caution and selection are needful, and in this matter our party was fortunate. The dinner table was too large for general conversation, but it was carried on partially in groups; and I noticed that while the adventures of the day—the Nile, the Pyramids, the bazaars, the opera, and the circus—were all freely discussed, and the dishes of the table occasionally (but with bated breath), politics, social questions, and religion were carefully avoided. Just recently the postal system in Egypt has been made excellent, but then complaints were many and loud.
“I thought I heard you say, sir, that the mails were in this morning.”
“Yes, so they are, for I came from Brindisi along with them.”
“Then we must go and ask for letters at the Consul’s.”
“No,” a third would say, “you need not: the Consul, or his Vice, or perhaps his Cavasse, or somebody, has got a headache, so the mail bags cannot be opened till he gets better—I intend inquiring again to-morrow.”