Chapter IX: Beys and Pashas (1)

NO one has had the heart to write the history of Egypt during the three centuries of its subjection to the Sultans of Turkey, from its conquest by Selím the Grim in 1516 to Mohammad ‘Aly’s foundation of a virtually independent dynasty in 1805. The annals of this period are monotonous, and the great figures of the earlier mamlúk period are wanting. The whole action seems to be played upon a smaller stage by inferior performers. The incentives to public spirit supplied by foreign wars were withdrawn from a merely provincial government, and the profuse expenditure and sumptuous luxury of a sovereign court no longer stimulated art and handicrafts or quickened the emulation of the emírs. The cramping influence of dependence and the grasping fiscal policy of the Ottoman empire destroyed much of the old magnificence of the mamlúks. Yet there was no such vivid contrast between Cairo under the pashas and the city that Makrízy describes as has sometimes been imagined. Everything in the East changes by almost imperceptible degrees, and the mills of God in Egypt grind with the tedious slowness of the creaking sákiyas of the country. Deterioration there was, but it came very gradually. The emírs were still the dominant power, and the chief difference was that instead of a sultan elected by themselves they had over them a pasha appointed by the Sublime Porte. The pasha’s authority was checked by a council of mamlúk emírs—or beys, as they came to be called—and he was frequently deposed by them or by the intrigues of the mutinous soldiery. Though a pasha might arrive with a suite of twelve hundred persons, and scatter handkerchiefs full of gold coins on festal occasions, he could seldom make head against the military oligarchy. The chief mamlúk, or sheykh-el-beled (mayor of the city) as he was entitled, was a far more powerful personage than the pasha. The emírs were much what they had been under the Circassian dynasty: they were not the same men, because Selím had massacred as many as he could catch, but they were similar—Turks, Georgians, Circassians, risen from slavery to office and rank,—and they maintained great state in their palaces beside the Ezbekíya lake or on the Birket-el-Fil, in the Crossway, or the Street of Arms; were followed by large bands of retainers, and carried on their jealousies, civil wars, and street fights with as much fervour as before. A new element of discord was introduced by the Turkish battalions of ‘Azabs and Janizaries in the Citadel barracks, and the commanders of these troops became the most powerful emírs in Egypt. But these too were of precisely the same character as the earlier mamlúks, and save for the absence of a controlling influence such as a strong sultan sometimes exerted, but a delegated pasha almost never, there was little to choose between the state of Cairo under the new régime and its anarchic condition under the impotent direction of most of the later Circassian kings.

Egypt in fact was still ruled by mamlúks. Its pashas were perpetually changed, and lived in terror of their own garrison; the emírs held the real power, and used it in the old way for their own benefit and for the ruin by exile or execution of their rivals. They formed themselves into powerful cliques, such as the Kásimis and the Fikáris, and their retainers fought each other in the streets, and besieged the government ‘Azab troops for months together. They had already discovered that the Citadel could be commanded by artillery on the hill behind. We read in Gabárty’s chronicle of bands of troops fortifying themselves in the mosques of Ibn-Tulún, Almás, Mahmudíya, and so forth, and discharging cannon balls from the adjacent minarets. The anarchy at times was indescribable; streets were deserted, houses plundered, and no man dared to go as far as Bulák or Old Misr; then followed an interval of tranquillity assured by the temporary supremacy of some great lord. It is difficult to discover any very notable distinction between these later emírs and those of the golden age of mamlúk civilization. Their opportunities were less, because they could no longer carry on wars in Syria or Asia Minor in their own behoof, for the contingents that were constantly drafted in Egypt for foreign service were merely employed as an insignificant part of the Ottoman armies. But their characters, occupations, and tastes appear to have been much what they had been for the preceding two centuries. There was a difference in degree but not in kind: they were not as a rule such big men with large opportunities as their forerunners, but in race, in character, in action, they were the same.

Indeed some of them were remarkable personages fit to compare with those of the old school. ‘Othmán Bey Dhu-l-fikár, for example, in the first half of the eighteenth century,—after playing a bold part in the faction fight that centred round his patron Dhu-l-fikár Bey and Cherkes Bey, and seeing eleven emírs of rank done to death in the palace of the Defterdár, himself narrowly escaping with a sabre-cut in his turban,—became the most eminent noble in Cairo, with power to raise his own mamlúks to the rank of emír. He was chief of the pilgrimage (emír- el-hagg), one of the most coveted posts in Egypt, in 1739; and when ‘Aly el-Gelfy the deputy[83] was assassinated, ‘Othmán Bey deposed the pasha and appointed Rudwán to be deputy over the ‘Azab battalions. ‘Othmán was the first emír who ventured to invite the pasha of Egypt to a feast in his palace, and the other nobles were completely subject to him. He held a court in his own house to decide causes of complaint, and, incorruptible himself, he severely punished any cases of extortion or oppression that came before him, watched the market-inspector closely, prescribed a fixed tariff for bread and other necessaries of life, and insisted on the due payment of pious benefactions to their proper uses. Lofty in character, of noble ideas and thoughts, just, able, disinterested, of honest life, and proud as Lucifer, he left such an impression behind him, when the intrigues of his rivals banished him from Egypt, that he created an era: one heard people say, “such a thing happened so many years after the departure of ‘Othmán Bey,” or “I was such and such an age when ‘Othmán Bey left.”

Rudwán el-Gelfy, just referred to, was another notable figure of the eighteenth century. Whilst he and another deputy, Ibrahím, held office, the country enjoyed absolute peace, food was cheaper than was ever known before, and plenty reigned in all classes. In those days every great man kept open house twice a day, noon and evening, in a spacious hall to which all might enter. The lord and his guests sat at the head of the table, and his mamlúks and followers lower down, as it were “below the salt,” and it was held disgraceful to refuse admission to any stranger who presented himself. On feast days great dishes of rice and honey or milk were distributed to the poor, and sweetmeats were served on Fridays and festivals. One of Rudwán’s houses was on the Ezbekíya, on the border of the lake (as it then was, at least at high Nile). Its halls were surmounted by cunningly designed domes, in which gold arabesques on a blue ground harmonized with stained glass of many colours in charming combination. He built kiosks in a garden beside the canal, where he had laid out a lake and cascade, and there, when his ambition was satisfied, he took his pleasure, which savoured, it must be confessed, of debauch. Indeed Rudwán was no stern moralist, like ‘Othmán Bey, but allowed a considerable licence to the fair ladies of Cairo. The police had his orders not to disturb them or baulk their admirers,[84] and “Cairo then resembled a land of gazelles, a paradise of houris and darlings; its inhabitants drank their fill in the cup of delight, as though there were no reckoning to be paid on the day of judgment.” No wonder that poets sang his praises in such verses as “the Impurpled Wine” and “the Perfume of Paradise.” Rudwán’s palace is no more to be seen in the Ezbekíya, but his gate, the Bab-el-‘Azab, leading into the Citadel from the Rumeyla, preserves his memory. His end was tragic. Conspirators surrounded his house in the street of Kusún, and bullets began to pour in whilst he was engaged in the meditative process of having his head shaved. He fought while he had strength, and then, with a broken leg, struggled on horseback and fled to die in upper Egypt. He was the last great commander of the ‘Azabs.

It was not only the emírs who owned such splendid houses as Rudwán. Another house on the Ezbekíya belonged to a famous merchant, Ahmad esh- Sharáiby (the apothecary), whose family had produced emírs and owned mamlúks. They possessed immense wealth, and they used it as high-minded, honest gentlefolk. Learned men frequented their house, which was full of rare manuscripts as well as ordinary works of reference. Whatever book was in the market, if it was not in their library they bought it regardless of the price; and once there it was immediately placed at the disposal of every visitor. A scholar was sure to find any book he required in the Sharáiby library, and he was at liberty to carry it off on loan, or even to keep it altogether; for the princely merchants would never think of asking its return, but would merely seek out and buy another copy. From the scholar’s point of view it seems impossible to improve upon this system. The members of this family were more than enlightened book collectors and book lenders: they were strict observers of the austere rule of the Málikis, tenacious of sound morals, and exclusive in their connexions. They married only among their own large family circle, and their daughters never left the house except when they were married or borne to their grave. It was well to be cautious in days when the luxurious Rudwán was encouraging amatory adventures, and when a party of high-born dames, riding out to “smell the air,” as Cairo ladies do now, at the proper season, were set upon near the Ezbekíya and stripped of their jewels and every garment they had on. But the Sharáiby folk, though strict, could unbend. When marriage feasts were afoot, for example, they gave splendid entertainments, but so careful were they of their daughters that they waited till all the guests were safely engaged in prayer at the mosque of Ezbek[85] opposite the house, and then hurried the bride off to her husband’s abode under guard of a discreet body of matrons: after which there was plenty of gunfiring and torch waving, and all was merry.

The family had the custom of appointing one of their number trustee of all their property and business. It was his duty to collect the rents, gather the harvest and crops, receive the profits of their ventures, and pay all expenses, including the family’s dress and pocket-money. At the end of the year he drew up his balance sheet and paid each member his share. This excellent plan was not likely to last for ever, and one is not surprised to learn that at last the younger members quarrelled over the accounts, and the joint-stock company broke up in disorder. This was no doubt an exceptional family; but there were many of the kind, and there are some yet in Cairo, sterling honest folk, who walk in the old paths and guard a severe self-respect.

The zeal for books displayed by this family casts an interesting light upon the education and learning of the times. During the earlier mamlúk days many important libraries had been formed in Cairo, partly from the spoils of Syrian mosques, and if we are to take as evidence the long biographies of numerous sheykhs, professors, divines, historians, and poets, related with enthusiastic admiration by el-Gabarty, there was a vast deal of intellectual energy expended in Egypt in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, though perhaps it was hardly in the first rank of original genius. He reports a curious conversation, however, in 1750, between Ahmad pasha, a governor of mathematical tastes, and the sheykh ‘Abdallah esh-Shubrawy, of the Azhar. The pasha remarked that he had continually heard of the wonderful merits of Egypt as the home of learning, but he would like to see the results. “True, O my master,” replied the sheykh, “Egypt is as you have heard, the mine of sciences and knowledge.” “But where are they?” asked the pasha. “As far as I can see, you know nothing but law and metaphysic and other less important studies, and disdain practical science altogether.” The sheykh had to admit that at the Azhar they did not teach mathematics, beyond arithmetic, which was useful for the law of inheritance. “How about astronomy?” suggested the pasha. “It is needed for the hours of prayer, times of fast, and many other things.” The sheykh admitted that few studied astronomy, which demanded special aptitudes, and instruments, and physiological conditions, and a “sweet and tranquil disposition,” for its proper pursuit; but he said he could find the man whom the pasha wanted, though not in the Azhar. When the man appeared, it seems his arithmetical problems delighted the governor, who gave him a fur cloak, which the sage afterwards sold for 800 dinars. He drew beautiful sun- dials, on marble, to show the hours of prayer, with appropriate mottoes, and two of these were set up in the Azhar and on the roof of the mosque of the Imám esh-Sháfi‘y.[86] One gathers from this anecdote, as well as from the lists of works described by the historian, that study in Cairo at that time was rather zealous than profound, and that learning was decidedly in its decadence.

Religion, on the other hand, was more powerful than ever. The annals of the pashalik are full of references to the influence of the Azhar professors and of the seyyids, and we hear of something very near a revolution when a Turkish preacher got up in the mosque of el-Muáyyad and fulminated against the invocation of saints, a popular accretion which is certainly no part of the creed of Mohammad. The preacher urged the crowd to demolish the cupolas over the saints’ tombs, and the orthodox professors of divinity had much trouble to silence him and appease the crowd. There was often a very severe regulation of public behaviour in deference to religious notions, and we find, for example, a stern prohibition of smoking in the streets. Police marched up and down three times a day, and if any smoker was caught he had to eat his pipe- bowl. An old custom, mentioned by Násir-i-Khusrau (above, p. 109), was still in force: a man who had falsified documents was paraded on camelback through the streets, whilst a crier proclaimed, “Behold the punishment of forgers!” The Cairenes were clearly very superstitious, and when in 1735 a circumstantial rumour went round that the Resurrection would certainly take place on the next Friday, in two days’ time, they bade each other last farewells, and wandered about the fields and roads saying good-bye to the land they loved, whilst the people of Giza, moved by a superstition which ran in their minds from ages long before Islám was discovered, bathed hysterically in the Nile, both men and women. There was nothing but panic and repentance and prayer till Saturday—when behold! nothing had happened.

An age that attached so much importance to religion was not likely to neglect its shrines. It is a mistake to ascribe the ruin of so many of the mosques of Cairo to the period of the Turkish pashas. On the contrary, the danger was that they might be “restored” out of all knowledge. Cairo is full of “Turkish” mosques, that is Turkish of the Othmanly style, which, if they cannot compare with the buildings of the earlier mamlúks, are nevertheless very creditable examples of their kind, and far superior to anything built, say, in England, during the past century. Indeed the mosques of Seyyida Safíya (1604) and of Mohammad Abu-dh-Dhahab (1774), are exceedingly noble buildings, and that little gem of Turkish mosaic work, el-Burdeyny, is beautiful in its own way. The architects of the Ottoman period abandoned the medresa style introduced by Saladin, which, as we have seen, had lost much of its original cruciform plan when the medresas were used as congregational mosques under the Circassian Mamlúks; but, whilst reverting to the older and simpler plan of the gámi‘, they modified it by substituting cupolas of Byzantine form for the level ceilings which formerly covered the sanctuary. In fact, the Ottoman mosque is practically a basilica. A special feature of the mosques and restorations of the Othmanly period is the introduction of faïence. The medresa of Aksunkur was restored by Ibrahím Aga in 1652, and the whole east wall covered with fine blue tiles, chiefly of the Damascus style, with a few so-called Rhodian, probably from Constantinople. It was not often that restoration proved so successful, and one has frequently to deplore the patching of Turkish additions upon the old masterpieces. Ahmad pasha restored the then dilapidated mosque of el-Muayyad in 1690; another pasha built the Arba‘ín mosque by the Karameydan Gate in 1704; Ahmad the deputy restored the Fátimid mosque of ez-Záfir, known as el-Fakahány, in 1735.

But the prince of restorers was ‘Abd-er-Rahmán Kiahya (Ketkhuda), who enjoyed great influence before the time when ‘Aly Bey—himself the restorer of the dome of the tomb-mosque of Imám Sháfi‘y and builder of the Bulák bazar—deposing the reigning pasha made himself king of Egypt from 1768 to 1772. ‘Abd-er-Rahmán’s father, ‘Othmán Ketkhuda, had architectural tastes. Out of his very ill-gotten gains he built his mosque, school, and fountain by the Ezbekíya lake, and on the day of opening filled the great central basin and all the ewers he could collect with sherbet for the congregation. He also built the school for the blind at the Azhar, and other benefactions. His son, however, far surpassed him. Every tourist knows his little _sebíl_—elegant like its founder, who was dainty in person and dress, and very fair—at the end of Beyn-el-Kasreyn, with its tiles, and open arched school above; but this was the least of his works. He built a mosque outside the Bab-el-Futúh, and another by the Bab-el-Ghureyyib, with a cistern, fountain, and school; a great reservoir, with fountain and school, near the Ezbekíya cemetery, for the sakkas or water-carriers; rebuilt the chapels of Seyyida Zeyneb and Seyyida Sekína, and erected others near the Karáfa Gate, in the Musky, in the Hoseyníya quarter, and in the ‘Abdín street, etc. Of his restorations the best known is that of the Azhar, which owes its present aspect largely to ‘Abd-er-Rahmán’s work. He put in fifty marble columns supporting groins of faced stone covered with costly woods; erected a new _mihráb_ and pulpit, built the two archways, one with a school for orphans above it, the other with a minaret; set up a tomb in the court, added libraries, reading-rooms, kitchens, and other apartments for the benefit of students from Upper Egypt; enlarged the Taybarsíya and Akbughawíya medresas attached to the Azhar, and built the splendid portal between them, opposite the wekála of Káit-Bey; furnished _riwáks_ (or partitions) for students from Mekka and from the Sudán; and settled rents in trust for the maintenance of these benefactions, besides giving every day in Ramadán to the Azhar kitchen a large quantity of rice, butter, oil, and meal for the evening refreshment of the students after the day’s fast. ‘Abd-er-Rahmán also restored the mosque of the Imám Sháfi‘y, and paved the corridor with variegated marbles; repaired the tomb of Seyyida Nefísa and the Maristán of Kalaún (then a madhouse), but after pulling down the dome he neglected to rebuild it, and merely boarded it over, and so it remains to this day. He took great pains to trace the bequests left by the founder and his successors to the hospital, and succeeded in recovering the title-deeds and restoring the revenues. By whatever means he acquired his wealth, and it was said the means were not above suspicion, there was no end to this man’s charitable acts. At winter time he distributed woollen clothes to crowds of the blind, who always abound at Cairo, and also to the muezzins to protect them from cold when chanting the nightly calls to prayer. The poor clamoured about his door in the evenings of Ramadán, waiting for the plates of food which were never refused, and after the meal they went away happy with two loaves and two paras ready for next day’s breakfast. Altogether, ‘Abd-er-Rahmán Kiahya built or rebuilt eighteen mosques, besides chapels, fountains, schools, bridges, and every sort of edifice. He had an architectural passion, and fortunately excellent taste in its gratification, and the people well named him “the great benefactor.” He died at Cairo in 1776 at a great age, after twelve years’ exile in Arabia; for all his charity could not protect him from the suspicions of ‘Aly Bey. All the ‘ulema, professors, students, and poor of his numerous benefactions, escorted his splendid funeral to the Azhar, where he lies in the tomb which he had built near the south gate.

The last great mosque built during the period of the pashalik was that of Mohammad Bey, known as Abu-dh-Dhahab, or “father of gold,” from his munificent way of scattering gold coins among the crowd. He was the favourite and trusted mamlúk of the great ‘Aly Bey, and he rewarded his patron by manœuvring his downfall and exile, and finally accomplishing his death. He was a brilliant soldier, fought successful campaigns in Arabia and Syria for his master, and achieved extraordinary popularity by his delightful manners and open hand. Egypt had peace whilst he held the reins of power, and the Sublime Porte, whilst appointing pashas as before, wisely left the real authority in the hands of the capable and popular emír. In 1774 Mohammad Bey founded his handsome _medresa_ opposite the Azhar, and there he lies in his tomb. It was built on the plan of an earlier mosque at Bulák (the Senaníya), and was “a marvel of architecture and richness: gilded ceilings, marble porticoes, and stupendous dome, with bronze dormers admirably worked,” etc. There were porticoes for the Hanafis, Málikis, and Sháfi‘is, and celebrated doctors came to profess the law there, and, contrary to the usual custom, received salaries, some as much as 150 paras a day (you could sometimes buy a pound of meat for 2 paras), and none less than 10 paras a day and an annual gift of 50 bushels of corn. On the day of opening the great man clothed the divines with cloaks of sables or white fur, according to their rank—a handsome form of university hood.

Mohammad Bey’s is the last of the great mosques of Cairo, with the exception of Mohammad Aly’s sumptuous and very effective mosque in the Citadel, where it forms a conspicuous feature in the view from every side. This, however, is too obviously a foreign importation, a child of Stambúl, to harmonize with the true Cairo style, and, though it is perhaps a narrow prejudice, we confess we can never quite reconcile ourselves to Ottoman architecture in the old mamlúk city.

Enough has been said to show that it was not during the rule of pashas and beys that the mosques of Cairo suffered damage or demolition. They were well cared for. Their evil day came when Mohammad ‘Aly, a second but more successful ‘Aly Bey, made himself master of Egypt and inaugurated a new régime, compared with which the rule of the sternest of the mamlúks was mildness itself. It was Mohammad ‘Aly, who, in 1808-1810, laid hands on the Wakfs or religious endowments, which the piety of many centuries had placed in trust for the maintenance of the mosques and colleges of Egypt, and amidst the tears and curses of all the ‘ulema of Cairo, deprived them of the right to control the sacred monuments confided to their charge. From this act of confiscation, when title-deeds were lost or destroyed, and trust-funds confused and malversed, dates the most serious decay of the monuments of Cairo. The Europeanizing movement of the nineteenth century, inevitable, and in many ways most desirable as it was, brought with it a large destruction of mosques and other historic buildings which impeded carriage-traffic or stood in the way of the new streets and squares which the viceroys of Egypt planned with little or no regard to existing antiquities. The Shari‘ Mohammad ‘Aly was the most flagrant example of a street cutting its way remorselessly through historic monuments, but similar vandalism occurred in almost every part of the city, and the department which attends to the alignment of the streets has often exercised its powers in the narrowest spirit of county-councildom. That much worse has not happened is wholly due to the vigilance and firmness of the “Commission for the Preservation of the Monuments of Arab Art,” an official body in which happily large powers are vested, and to which we owe the maintenance of a multitude of Saracenic monuments of every class and all periods, which, but for its timely interposition, would now have disappeared or have been on the high road to ruin. It is impossible to over-estimate the excellent and patient work of the Commission. The seventeen annual reports it has issued—solid volumes, with plans and illustrations—form a library of valuable information, and testify in every page to the care and sense of responsibility shown by the members. I may here be permitted to quote a report on the results and methods of the Commission which I made at Earl Cromer’s request in 1895, and which was published in his annual survey of the progress of Egypt presented to Parliament in 1896.

_The Athenæum, London, December_ 12, 1895.

“MY LORD,—In accordance with your Lordship’s invitation, I have the honour to submit a few remarks on the work of the Commission for the Preservation of Arab Monuments, of which I made a detailed examination in the summer of this year.

The Commission was instituted by Decree of His Highness the late Khedive on the 18th December, 1881. Its duties were:—

1. To make an inventory of the Arab monuments of Egypt which possess historical or artistic interest.

2. To watch over the preservation of these monuments, and report to the Minister of Wakfs such repairs as were considered necessary for their maintenance.

3. To prepare plans for such repairs and scrupulously superintend their execution.

4. To see that plans of all the work executed should be preserved in the Ministry of Wakfs, and to indicate any fragments or detached objects which should be transferred to the Museum of Arab Art.

Political disturbance prevented much being done before the close of 1882; but when I made a general inspection of the Arab monuments of Cairo in January to March 1883, the Commission was in working order. I was then able to see the beginning of its labours, and am therefore in a position to compare the state of the monuments at the time when the Commission first took them seriously in hand with their present condition after the Commission has been over twelve years at work.

I can state with confidence that, comparing the general state of the mosques in 1883 and 1895, they are in a far safer and better preserved condition now than they were twelve years ago. Several monuments that then seemed inevitably doomed to destruction have been strengthened and supported, and, generally speaking, weak places have been detected and repaired, whilst a more vigilant supervision and protection against vandalism and robbery now prevail. These happy results are especially due to the energy and archæological or technical knowledge of the late Rogers Bey, of Franz Pasha, and of his Excellency Yakub Artin Pasha, whose name will always be honourably associated with the intellectual progress of Egypt. Some of their French colleagues have also rendered useful services from time to time, and the presence on the Commission of successive Under-Secretaries of Public Works, and notably at the present time of Mr [now Sir] W. E. Garstin, has proved a valuable source of strength. The most vital appointment under the Commission is, of course, that of the Architect, who surveys the monuments, recommends such repairs as are necessary or desirable, and personally superintends their execution. Since the creation of the Special Department (Bureau Spécial) of the Commission, which was separated at the beginning of 1890 from the Bureau Technique of the Wakfs, Mr Max Herz [Hon. F. S. A.] has been the Architect in charge of the work of the Commission, and it is bare justice to say that to his industry and considerable technical and archæological attainments much of the present improved manner of supervising and preserving the monuments is undoubtedly due. Herz Bey joins to the technical training of an architect a familiarity with the history of Arab art, together with a genuine enthusiasm for his work. His “Catalogue of the Arab Museum,” published this year in French, but shortly to be reissued in an English translation [published, 1896], furnishes proofs of an extensive study of the periods of development of Arab or Saracenic art, and of the literature, Arabic and European, relating to this subject; and the complete restorations he has made of a few of the smaller mosques are evidence of his insight into Arab construction and decoration, of his technical skill, and of his scrupulous fidelity to the original design. On this vexed subject of restoration, however, I shall have something to say later; but whatever may be thought of the principle, it is impossible to doubt that in the appointment of Herz Bey the Commission has been exceptionally fortunate.

_Preservation._ It must never be forgotten that the prime duty of the Commission is the preservation, not the restoration, of the monuments. A fairly complete list of the monuments which, on historical or artistic grounds, ought to be preserved has been drawn up by Sub-Committee 1, and the first obligation laid upon the Commission is to watch over the preservation of every monument in this list. So far as my observation went, its members are clearly alive to this obligation, and have endeavoured to fulfil it as far as their limited funds permitted. To enumerate the long catalogue of repairs, from the stablishing of the entire walls of a mosque to the removal of whitewash or dirt from a carved inscription or a mosaic, would extend these notes to an undue length. The details may be read in the excellent Annual Reports of the Commission, which, if they are scarcely as prompt in their appearance as they might be, leave little to be desired in point of accuracy or completeness. Much more, however, remains to be done, and many of the repairs already executed can only be regarded as temporary cheap make- shifts, pending the possibility of more thorough works when finances permit. The adequate and enduring preservation of the monuments is essentially a question of money. The Commission and its Architect know what ought to be done, but they cannot do it without an increased staff and a larger budget.

Meanwhile, there are two or three points to which the attention of the Commission should, I think, be specially and immediately directed, since they can be dealt with even on the present insufficient annual grant.

1. In cases where a thorough repair would be too costly to be undertaken on the present budget, there is a mode of preservation, in a literary and artistic sense, which ought to be invariably adopted when there is any risk of further immediate decay. The great mosque of Sultan Hasan is an instance in point. In such a case, where many thousands of pounds would be required for substantial preservation, the Commission cannot at present entertain the plans which have been drawn up for so elaborate a work. But what they can do is to prepare an exact record of the present state of the mosque, to draw full architectural plans and elevations, photograph every detail of ornament or inscription, reproduce mosaics and other coloured decoration in the colours of the originals, and generally to make it possible at any time to reproduce the entire mosque in its true proportions and exact details of ornament.[87] To students of the history of Arab art such a record would be invaluable, whilst it would make the task of preservation possible even should want of funds postpone the work till the mosque had fallen into much more lamentable decay. To prepare such records would necessitate an increase in the staff of the Commission, but if the memoirs were published, with adequate historical introductions and explanations, the sale would probably repay a large part of the expense. At the same time, these records should not of course be regarded as a substitute for actual preservation, or as a reason for deferring necessary repairs. They should be used merely as a safeguard against the total or partial obliteration of a monument by a sudden catastrophe (which might happen any day to one of the minarets of Sultan Hasan), not as a ground for refusing to avert the ruin.

2. Another and much simpler precaution should be taken in the case of the numerous small mosques of Cairo which are more or less roofed in. These have generally windows of open tracery, or grille-work, and often a small opening in the centre over the court. The central opening should be covered with glass to keep out the weather, and the open windows should invariably be furnished with wire-netting outside to exclude the birds, which do much mischief in the interiors. All covered-in mosques require frequent inspection with this view, and every cranny which could admit rain or birds should be carefully stopped.

3. A more expensive but absolutely necessary step is the compulsory expropriation of the shops or booths which cling like limpets to the façades of many of the mosques. The proprietors of these shops use the mosques behind as dust-bins, and throw their refuse and broken crockery through the windows. The appearance of the mosques, both inside and out, is seriously impaired by these excrescences which narrow the street (_e.g._, the Suk-en-Nahhasin), impede traffic, and prevent the façades of the mosques being seen in their true proportion and effect.

In order to avoid the risk of any historical monument being overlooked and neglected, it would be well if the Commission were to divide Cairo into a certain number of definite quarters, and that the scheduled monuments in each quarter should be periodically visited by the Sub- Committee of Inspection and the architect at least once a year. The number of monuments in the list is so large, that it might be impossible to arrange more than one or two inspections of each in every season. Such visits should be recorded, with notes on the condition of each monument, in a special book.

An important question is that of the private monuments, whether mosques, houses, _sebils_, _wekalas_, or other buildings. The Government apparently has no power either to compel owners to maintain and preserve the historical buildings which they inhabit or let, or to force them to sell. The few mediæval houses still standing in Cairo are artistically more valuable than the mosques maintained by private wakfs, for they form almost the sole remaining examples of the domestic style of Arab art. It is greatly to be wished that they could be brought under the control of the Commission, and if due compensation were made for ejectment or interference, the owners would have little ground for complaint.

_Restoration._—The Commission has not confined its labours strictly to preservation, it has also undertaken the complete restoration of several monuments. There is a well-founded prejudice in artistic and archæological circles against restoration of any and every description; but I believe that an examination of some of the recent restorations carried out by Herz Bey would remove these natural and generally just apprehensions. This architect’s principle, as he explained it to me, appears sound and reasonable. It is this. No unique monument (_e.g._, the Mosque of Ibn-Tulun) or monument belonging to an architectural period of which there are very few examples (_e.g._, the Fátimid Mosques), must on any account be restored; preservation is the only possible treatment for such cases, and nothing more must be done than is absolutely necessary for the stability of the building, and its security from weather and other injury. But when there are numerous mosques of the same period, nearly resembling one another in style, and often even in detail of ornament (_e.g._, at the period of Kait-Bey), then a few may safely be selected for complete restoration at all points, so as to present as nearly as possible their original appearance, as when first opened for public worship. Herz Bey has given a few examples of his theory of restoration in mosques of a well-represented period. They are not equally successful, and it is evident from the latest specimens that experience has taught him much, especially in regard to colour. But I think the most rigid opponent of restoration would find very little to criticize in the careful and beautiful manner in which the little mosque of [Kády] Abu-Bekr ibn Muzhir in the Bargawan has been restored to almost its original condition; and whatever may be said about the tampering to which the mosque of el-Muayyad was subjected under a former régime, there is no doubt that the inscriptional frieze and the painted ceiling have been restored as perfectly and as scrupulously as skill and knowledge could attain. I can assert from personal observation that nothing can exceed the care and precautions which are observed by the architect of the Commission in order to make sure that he has really discovered the original design and colouring beneath centuries of dirt and whitewash, or the pains he takes to reproduce them faithfully. And I may here observe that the staff of the Commission includes workers in metal and wood, who are able to copy the designs so accurately, that it is almost impossible to distinguish them from the originals. (They are not yet successful in stained glass, however.) This merit has the obvious drawback that, unless great care is taken, the details of the monuments (_e.g._, the bronze bosses and plaques on doors, or the wood and ivory carvings and inlay work of doors and _minbars_) may be falsified.

In recent restorations of Arabic inscriptions the inscription itself is made to tell the date of its restoration; but many small details of ornament are not distinguished at all from the original work whose gaps they supply. This defect calls for immediate correction before the distinction is forgotten by the restorers themselves. Every _plaque_ of metal or panel of wood or mosaic should bear an unmistakable distinguishing mark, such as the date of restoration in Arabic cyphers; and detailed plans of all restored monuments should be preserved in the archives of the Commission, in which the new portions should be clearly distinguished by colour or shading. If this rule is carefully observed I confess I can see nothing but advantage in the complete restoration of a _limited_ number of mosques _under the restrictions_ already mentioned. When the work is executed with the skill and honesty which one observes in the case of the Mosque of Abu-Bekr ibn Muzhir, there is no falsification but rather preservation in the most complete and satisfactory sense. The beauty of these restored mosques seems to appeal to the eyes of the worshippers, and there is no doubt that the Mosque of el-Muayyad has been far more frequented for prayer since its _liwan_ was restored to something of its original beauty and richness of gold and colour. This is a consideration to which the Ministry of Wakfs can hardly fail to attach considerable importance. At the same time there is possibly some risk of the vital work of preservation being sometimes neglected in order that restorations, which are naturally more interesting and effective to both the architect and the public, should be carried out.

At present there are five mosques in course of restoration,[88] viz., those of Zeyn-ed-din Yahya, near the Musky; Gami‘-el-Benat; of Asunbugha, in the Darb-es-Sa‘ada, and of Kagmas el-Ishaky; besides el- Muayyad and Abu-Bekr ibn Muzhir, which may be regarded as finished. Two of these mosques, however, are private wakfs, and are being paid for by private persons. Still, in my opinion, enough restoration has been undertaken for the present, and the chief attention of the Commission should be directed for the next two or three years to a fresh and complete examination of all the monuments on their list with a view to their thorough preservation. At all events the selection of a new mosque for complete restoration should be a subject of anxious thought, and should not be lightly undertaken. Restoration, it must be remembered, is costly, and cannot judiciously be embarked upon so long as the funds of the Commission are scarcely sufficient for preservation alone. . . .

Such, my Lord, are the conclusions which suggested themselves to me after my inspection of the results of the Commission’s labours. I have confined my remarks to Cairo, because I had no opportunity this year to examine the work that has been done in other towns of Egypt. In Cairo, as I have endeavoured to show, the Commission has done excellent work, and has accomplished a great deal in face of inadequate funds and frequent obstruction and opposition. The few suggestions and criticisms I have ventured to make are trifles in comparison with the quantity and generally high quality of the work of preservation and restoration carried out under the authority of the Commission. In my opinion the Wakfs and the Public Works together should raise the annual budget of the Commission to £10,000, and then leave it to manage its own affairs, as it is fully competent to do. Were it possible to create a Ministry of Fine Arts, which should include the Archæological Directorate as well as the Commission, the Giza as well as the Arab Museum, this would probably be the most satisfactory course. But the consideration of so thorough a reconstruction is beyond the scope of the Report which your Lordship has asked me to submit.”

To these remarks I have nothing to add. All subsequent observation has confirmed the belief that the Commission has done and is still doing a noble work for the monuments of Cairo. The passages omitted in the preceding extracts related to the financial status of the Commission, and the result of these recommendations is thus stated in Lord Cromer’s covering report, which also strongly supported the various suggestions offered for the better protection of the monuments, and added some excellent provisions for the inclusion of the Coptic churches in the field of operation of the Commission. Lord Cromer wrote:—

“I have for long been well aware that the grants heretofore obtained from the Wakf Administration were inadequate, and that, if greater activity was to be displayed in this branch of the Administration, additional expenditure would have to be incurred. Indeed, one of the main objects I had in view in consulting Mr Stanley Lane-Poole was to obtain suggestions from him as to the best method of spending more money, supposing it to be available.

“On receipt of Mr Stanley Lane-Poole’s Report, I placed myself in communication with the authorities of the Financial and Public Works Department with the result that a proposal was made to the Commissioners of the Public Debt that they should grant a sum of £20,000 from the Reserve Fund at their disposal to be spent under the direction of the Preservation Committee during the years 1896 and 1897. I am glad to say that this proposal was received by the Commissioners in a very friendly spirit. The money has been granted, and the details of the expenditure now alone remain to be settled. . . .

“I should add that, in addition to the £20,000, which is to be spent exclusively on works of different sorts, the Egyptian Government has consented to give a permanent grant of £1000 a-year from the Treasury in order to provide for the additional staff which will without doubt be required.”

The effects of this munificent addition to the funds placed at the disposal of the Commission have been far-reaching. The list of monuments that have benefited by the timely succour is too long to quote, but the repairs effected in the great mosque of el-Maridány at a cost of £4000 must be specially mentioned: it was a work greatly needed, and the money has been well spent. Every visitor to Cairo is struck by the difference in the condition of the mosques since the Commission took them under its charge. Many which seemed doomed are now safe; others have their lives at least prolonged; and no fragment of Arab art, no vestige of the city wall, no piece of carving or inscription, is beneath the watchful care of the Commission. When a monument cannot be preserved, such fragments of ornament or inscriptions as remain are carefully gathered and transported to the Arab Museum, which itself is evidence of the good work that has been done in the past twenty years. These years have indeed been fruitful in serious labour to repair the injury which natural decay, and unnatural confiscation, neglect, and vandalism have worked in the past upon the relics of mediæval Cairo.

RULERS AND MONUMENTS OF CAIRO[89]

* * * * *

1. ARAB PERIOD

A.D. A.H. A.H.

640-868 20-254 Ninety-eight governors †Mosque of ‘Amr 21
under caliphs of
Damascus and Baghdād

Town of the Tent 21
(el-Fusṭāṭ)

First Nilometer at 98
er-Rōḍa

Faubourg el-‘Askar 133

*Second Nilometer 247
at er-Rōḍa

2. TURKISH PERIOD

HOUSE OF ṬŪLŪN

868 254 Aḥmad ibn Ṭūlūn Faubourg el-Ḳaṭāi‘ 256

Palaces of 256 ff.
el-Ḳaṭāi‘

Māristān 259

*Mosque of Ibn-Ṭūlūn 263-5

883 270 Khumāraweyh b. Aḥmad Palaces of 270 ff.
el-Ḳaṭāi‘

895 282 Geysh b. Khumāraweyh

896 283 Hārūn b. Khumāraweyh

904 292 Sheybān b. Aḥmad b. Ṭūlūn

CALIPHS’ GOVERNORS

905-934 292-323 Thirteen governors

HOUSE OF EL-IKHSHĪD

934 323 Moḥammad el-Ikhshīd Palace in Kāfūr’s
Garden and at Rōḍa

946 334 Abū-l-Ḳāsim Ūngūr b. Māristān at Fusṭāṭ 346
el-Ikhshīd

960 349 Abū-l-Ḥasan ‘Aly b. Mosque of el-Gīza 350
el-Ikhshīd

966 355 Abū-l-Misk Kāfūr

968 358 Abū-l-Fawāris Aḥmad b.
‘Aly

3. FĀṬIMID PERIOD

969 358 el-Mo‘izz Foundation of 358
el-Ḳāhira

Great East Palace, 358
etc.

*Mosque el-Azhar 359

975 365 el-‘Azīz West Palace, etc.

*Mosque of el-Ḥākim 380-403

996 386 el-Ḥākim Mosque of Rāshida 393-5

„ el-Maḳs

1021 411 eẓ-Ẓāhir

1036 427 el-Mustanṣir *Mosque el-Guyūshy 478

*Bāb-en-Naṣr, 480-484
*Bāb-el-Futūḥ,
*Second wall,
*Bāb-Zuweyla

Mosque of Nilometer 485

1094 487 el-Musta‘ly

1101 495 el-Āmir *Mosque el-Aḳmar 519

Several mesgids
(Yānis, Kāfūry,
Bāb-el-Khawkha)

*Mihrābs of Azhar
and Seyyida Ruḳeyya

1131 524 el-Ḥāfiẓ

1149 544 eẓ-Ẓāfir †Mosque el-Afkhar 543

1154 549 el-Fāiz

1160 555 el-‘Āḍid *Mosque of eṣ-Ṣālih 555
Ṭalāi‘

4. HOUSE OF SALADIN

1169 565 en-Nāṣir Ṣalāḥ-ed-dīn Mosque of 566
(Saladin) ibn Ayyūb Negm-ed-dīn Ayyūb

College Nāṣirīya 566

„ Ḳamḥiya 566

„ Ḳuṭbīya 570

„ Ibn-el-Arsūfy 570

„ Suyūfīya 572

Citadel and 3rd 572
Wall begun

Māristān 575

College el-Fāḍilīya 580

1193 589 el-‘Azīz, son of Saladin Mosque of c. 591
Ibn-el-Benā

College Ushkushīya 592

1198 595 el-Manṣūr b. el-‘Azīz „ Ghaznawīya

1200 596 el-‘Adil Seyf-ed-dīn „ ‘Ādilīya

„ Sherīfīya 612

1218 615 el-Kāmil b. el-‘Ādil Restor. of M. of 607
Shāfi‘y

*College Kāmilīya 622

„ Fakhrīya 622

Zāwiya Ḳaṣry c. 633

M. Ibn-esh-Sheykhy c. 633

1238 635 el-‘Ādil II. b. el-Kāmil College Ṣayramīya c. 636

„ Fāizīya 636

1240 637 eṣ-Ṣāliḥ Ayyūb b. „ *Ṣāliḥīya 639
el-Kāmil

Mosque, etc., of
er-Rōḍa

1249 647 el-Mu‘aẓẓam Tūrān-Shāh Zāwiya Khaddām 647
b. eṣ-Ṣāliḥ

5. TURKISH MAMLŪKS

1250 648 Queen Sheger-ed-durr *Tomb of eṣ-Ṣāliḥ 648

1250 648 el-Mo‘izz Aybek College Ḳuṭbīya 650

„ Ṣāḥibīya 654

1257 655 el-Manṣūr ‘Aly b. Aybek

1259 657 el-Muẓaffar Ḳuṭuz

1260 658 eẓ-Ẓāhir Beybars *College Ẓāhirīya 660

Meshhed el-Ḥoseyny 662

College Megdīya 663

Mosque el-Afram 663

*Mosque eẓ-Ẓāhir 665

College
Muhedhdhibīya

„ Fārikānīya 676

1277 676 es-Sa‘īd Baraka b.
Beybars

1279 678 el-‘Ādil Selāmish b.
Beybars

1279 679 el-Manṣūr Ḳalā’ūn *College Manṣūrīya 684
and Māristān Ḳalā’ūn

Zāwiya el-Gemīzy 682

„ el-Ga‘bary 687

„ el-Halāwy 683

Convent 688
el-Bunduḳdārīya

1290 689 el-Ashraf Khalīl b. *Gate from ‘Akka
Ḳalā’ūn

1293 693 en-Nāṣir Moḥammad b.
Ḳalā’ūn

1294 694 el-‘Ādil Ketbughā

1296 696 el-Manṣūr Lāgīn Restor. M. of 696
Ibn-Ṭūlūn

College Ṭafagīya c. 698

„ Mangūtimurīya 698

1298 698 en-Nāṣir, second reign „ *Nāṣirīya 699-703

„ Karāsunḳurīya 700

„ Gemālīya 703

Restor. of Ḥākim, 703-4
Azhar, Ṭalāi‘

Mosque of Ṭaybars 707

1308 708 el-Muẓaffar Beybars *Convent of Beybars 706-9
_Gāshnekīr_

1309 709 en-Nāṣir, third reign *College Ṭaybarsīya 709

Zāwiya of el-Ḥimṣy 709

Mosque of el-Gāky 713

*Citadel palace, 713
aqueduct

College Sa‘īdīya 715

Convent of Arslān c. 717

*Mosque of Citadel 718

*Mosque of emīr 719
Ḥoseyn

*College Ālmelikīya 719

*College Gāwalīya 723

*Tomb of Ordūtegīn 724

*College 725
Mihmandāriya

„ Buktumurīya 726

Mosque of 729
el-Khazāny

„ *of Almās 730

„ el-Barḳīya 730

*Mosque of Ḳūṣūn 730

„ of Sārūgā c. 730

*College Aḳbughawīya 734

*Tomb of Tāshtimur 734

*Palace of Beshtāk c. 735

*Convent of Ḳūṣūn 736

„ at Siryāḳūs 736

†Mosque of Beshtāk 736

„ Aydemir 737

„ et-Turkmāny 738

„ *el-Māridāny 740

1341 741 el-Manṣūr Abū-Bekr} „ *Sitta Miska 740
}
} „ Ibn-Ghāzy 741
}
1341 742 el-Ashraf Kuguk }
}
1342 742 en-Nāṣir Aḥmad }sons
} of
1342 743 eṣ-Ṣāliḥ Ismā‘īl }en- Mosque of 745
}Nāṣir eṭ-Ṭawāshy
}
1345 746 el-Ḳāmil Sha‘bān } „ Ibn-eṭ-Ṭabbākh 746
}
1346 747 el-Muẓaffar Ḥāggy } „ *Kuguk 747
}
1347 748 en-Nāṣir Ḥasan } „ †Āḳsunḳur 747

„ †el-Ismā‘īly 748

„ *Ḳutlubugha 748

„ el-Asyūṭy c. 749

*Convent of Umm-Anūk c. 749

„ Algībughā c. 750

*Mosque of Mangak 750

„ *Sheykhū 750

College of 750
el-Kharrūba

*Cistern of Lāgīn 750

College Ḳaysarānīya 751

„ Ṣaghīra 751

1351 752 eṣ-Ṣāliḥ Ṣāliḥ b. Nāṣir

1354 755 Ḥasan, second reign *Convent of Sheykhū 756

College Fārisīya 756

„ 756
*Ṣarghitmishīya

„ *Sulṭān Ḥasan 757 ff.

„ Bedīrīya 758

„ *Ḥigāzīya 761

„ Beshīrīya 761

„ Sābiḳīya 763

1361 762 el-Manṣūr } „ Sābiḳīya 763
Moḥammad } grand-sons
} of
1363 764 el-Ashraf } en-Nāṣir *Tomb of Ṭulbīya 765
Sha‘bān }

*Mosque of Sha‘bān 771

*College Bubekrīya 772
(Asunbughā)

*College of Gāy 775
el-Yūsufy

„ Baḳrīya c. 775

1376 778 el-Manṣūr ‘Aly b. Sha‘bān „ Ibn-‘Irām 782

1381 783 eṣ-Ṣāliḥ Ḥāggy b. Tomb of Umm-Ṣāliḥ 783
Sha‘bān (dep. 1382,
restored 1389-90)

6. CIRCASSIAN MAMLŪKS

1382 784 eẓ-Ẓāhir Barḳūḳ *Tomb of Anas 783

[interrupted 791-2 by *College of Aytmish 785
Ḥāggy]

*College of Barḳūḳ 788

*Mosque of 790
Zeyn-ed-dīn

*College of Īnāl 795
_Ustāddār_

„ Maḥmūdīya 797

„ *Muḳbil 797
Zemāmīya

„ Ibn-Ghurāb 798

1399 801 en-Nāṣir Farag b. Barḳūḳ M. of 803
Ibn-‘Abd-eẓ-Ẓāhir

*College of Sūdūn 804

„ Mahally c. 806

1405 808 el-Manṣūr ‘Abd-el-‘Azīz *Convent and Tomb 803-13
b. Barḳūḳ of Barḳūḳ and
Farag, and College
of Farag

1405 809 Farag, second reign *College of 811
Gemāl-ed-dīn

Mosque of Hōsh 812
(Citadel)

1412 815 el-Musta‘īn (caliph) „ 814
Birket-er-Raṭly

1412 815 el-Mu’ayyad Sheykh M. of eḍ-Ḍiwa 815
(Citadel)

Mosque of el-Bāsiṭy 817

„ el-Ḥanafy 817

„ ez-Zāhid 818

*Māristān of 818
el-Mu’ayyad

*Mosque of 819-23
el-Mu’ayyad

*Coll. of 821
‘Abd-el-Ghany

Mosque of el-Fakhry 821

*Coll. of Ḳāḍy 823
‘Abd-el-Bāsiṭ

1421 824 el-Muẓaffar Aḥmad b.
Sheykh

1421 824 eẓ-Ẓāhir Ṭaṭar

1421 824 eṣ-Ṣāliḥ Moḥammad b.
Ṭaṭar

1422 825 el-Ashraf Bars-Bey *College of Bars-Bey 827

*Mosque of Gāny-Bek 830

*College of Feyrūz 830

*Conv. and tomb of 835
Bars-Bey

1438 842 el-‘Azīz Yūsuf b.
Bars-Bey

1438 842 eẓ-Ẓāhir Gaḳmaḳ *College of 844
Taghry-Berdy

*Mosque of Ḳāny-Bey 845

1453 857 el-Manṣūr ‘Othmān b. *M. and tomb Ḳāḍy 848-50
Gaḳmaḳ Yaḥyā

*Mosque of Gaḳmaḳ 853

1453 857 el-Ashraf Īnāl *Coll., Conv., tomb 855-60
of Īnāl

1461 865 el-Mu’ayyad Aḥmad b. Īnāl

1461 865 eẓ-Ẓāhir Khūshḳadam *Tomb of Gāny-Bek 869

*Mosque of 870
Nūr-ed-dīn

*Mosque of Sūdūn c. 870

*College of Ḳānim c. 870

1467 872 eẓ-Ẓāhir Yel-Bey

1467 872 eẓ-Ẓāhir Timurbughā

1468 873 el-Ashraf Ḳā’it-Bey *Mosque of Timrāz 876

*M. of Ezbek b. 880
Tutush

*Palace of Yeshbek 880

*Ḳā’it-Bey’s Coll. 879
and tomb

„ *Coll. in town 880

„ *Wekāla by 882
Azhar

„ *Sebīl 884

„ Wekāla, B. 885
en-Naṣr

„ *Wek., c. 885
Surūgīya

„ *Faḍawīya c. 886
cupola

„ *Palace and 890
mekān

„ *Restor. of 890
S. gates

„ *Coll. at 896
er-Rōḍa

*Mosque of Gānim 883

*Coll. of Abū-Bekr 885
b. Muzhir

*Mosque of Ḳagmās 886

*Coll. of Ezbek 900
el-Yūsufy

1496 901 en-Nāṣir Moḥammad b. *Palace of Mamāy 901
Ḳā’it-Bey (Beyt-el-Ḳāḍy)

1498 904 eẓ-Ẓāhir Ḳānṣūh *Tomb of Ḳānṣūh 904

1500 905 el-Ashraf Gānbalāt

1501 906 el-‘Ādil Ṭūmān-Bey

1501 906 el-Ashraf Ḳānṣūh el-Ghūry *Tomb el-‘Ādil 906
Ṭūmān-Bey

*Mosque of Kheyr-Bek 908

*Coll. Ḳāny-Bek 908
emīr akhōr

*Coll. of el-Ghūry 909

†Tomb-mosque of 909
el-Ghūry

*Tomb of Sūdūn c. 910

*College of 911
Ḳāny-Bek Ḳarā

Restoration of
aqueduct to

Citadel 911

1516 922 el-Ashraf Ṭumān-Bey

1517 922 ‘OTHMĀNLY CONQUEST OF EGYPT

TABLE FOR CONVERTING HIJRA YEARS INTO ANNI DOMINI.