a special place in the wall cupboards. The furniture of the room was simple. Its floor was strewn with mats covered with carpets, and seating accommodation consisted of mattresses and cushions covered with rugs of fine workmanship. There were also a number of cupboards fixed to the walls with shelves and pigeonholes, where Hajj Birmawy kept a beautiful collection of blue china and urns in carved copper.
The work of the house was carried out by female slaves. These were supplied by gallabs (slave dealers), who generally sent a batch of three or four for the mistress of the house to choose from. They were usually young girls, twelve to fifteen years of age. They would be displayed to the lady of the house naked, but for a girdle around their loins, and a few beads around their necks, resembling bronze statues. If the mistress of the house was dissatisfied with any of her slaves, the gallab was sent for and a substitute chosen, taking into account any difference of price between the two. When their good fortune led them to a kindly household, these slaves were generally well treated, and on growing old, regarded themselves and were looked upon as members of the family.
The household duties were divided among the slaves. Some prepared bread with great skill. On baking day, they would rise at dawn, particularly during the summer months to avoid flies, there being no glass panes to the kitchen windows. Other slaves were responsible for the washing, others for the cleaning and tidying of rooms; still others cooked or looked after the children. Slavery in Egypt was to disappear gradually in the 1880s and the 1890s.
The ladies of the house supervised the work of the slaves and did the sewing and mending. They were skilled at embroidery, and ecclesiastic vestments were often made by their pious hands. In those days, unfortunately, very few women were taught reading and writing. Upon his grandfather’s death, Marcus recounted how the house was plunged into deep mourning according to Coptic tradition.
On my grandfather’s death, my mother and her sisters, as was the custom in those days, turned down the carpets, had all furniture covered with black sheets, veiled the mirrors, sprinkled the walls with indigo, and in their grief they broke the fine collection of old blue china which adorned the shelves of the drawing room. I still remember vividly my pain as I piously collected some fragments. Later I searched and found a few dishes and bowls that are still in my possession.6
| 2 | A Love of Learning |
Marcus’s father was a devout man who almost never missed a church service either by day or by night. He often took Marcus with him. Like their ancestors, the early Christians of Egypt, every leading Coptic family consecrated one or two of its sons to the service of the Church, and Marcus had been chosen by his father for holy orders.
Marcus started his education at the Coptic Patriarchal School, in the immediate neighborhood of his home. This school, founded by Patriarch Cyril IV (r. 1854–61), was entirely maintained by the Coptic patriarchate and was open to children of all nationalities and denominations free of charge. It also contained a boarder section for poor Coptic boys from the provinces, who were accepted there without fees. Most of the students, however, came from well-to-do Coptic and Muslim families. Copts were not allowed to attend state schools, and it was only when Ali Pasha Mubarak, on the orders of Khedive Isma‘il (r. 1863–79), decreed in 1867 that Copts could attend state schools and also study abroad at state expense that this law was abolished. It was under this new ruling that Abd al-Messih and Rizqallah, the two elder brothers of Marcus, were sent to the School of Law on their graduation from the Patriarchal School, soon to be followed by Marcus’s younger brother Abdallah.
At school, Marcus studied the Bible and learned Coptic, Greek, and Arabic. His father forbade him to learn any European languages, lest they distract Marcus from ecclesiastic studies and interfere with his plan of consecrating Marcus to the service of the Church. At that time, young men possessing knowledge of one or more European languages were in great demand and commanded high pay in most of the state departments, especially in the railways administration. Marcus was keen on learning and begged and begged to be allowed to study a European language—English or French—but to no avail. One day, Marcus overheard the boys of his age, who attended the English language class, translating into Arabic the legend of the battle between the king of Persia and Queen Semiramis. This lesson was taught from a general history textbook entitled Peter Parley’s Universal History, on the Basis of Geography.7 He heard how the soldiers of the great king came to battle mounted on elephants, and how the troops of Queen Semiramis went out to meet them riding on camels camouflaged with elephant skins, and how the real elephants trampled the camels to death. The story fascinated him, and he resolved to find a way to convince his father to allow him to learn English.
I went home that night refusing to take any food and declaring that I would continue to keep a strict fast until I was allowed to attend the English class. After many entreaties and the shedding of many tears, my parents at last allowed me to learn English and I went to work with such good-will that before long I was at the top of the class.8
Marcus always acknowledged that his success was thanks to the help of his eldest brother, Abd al-Messih, who not only assisted him in his studies, but also introduced him to Mr. Sheldon Amos (1835–86), the judicial adviser to the British Agent, Sir Evelyn Baring (later Lord Cromer). Amos had been a professor at London University and had come to Egypt for health reasons. He was eventually to become the first Briton to be appointed to the Egyptian High Court of Appeal. Abd al-Messih arranged for Marcus to give Amos lessons in Arabic, in exchange for English lessons. Marcus became a frequent visitor at the Amos home, where he made the acquaintance of Mrs. Amos and their two children, their son Maurice, later Sir Maurice Sheldon Amos (1872–1940), and their daughter Bonté, later Mrs. Percy Elgood (1874–1960). Bonté was the first female doctor appointed by the Egyptian government, after her graduation from medical school at London University in 1900. It was at their table that Marcus learned for the first time how to use a knife and fork. He spent a great deal of his time with the Amos family, and often stayed at their villa at Ramla in Alexandria improving his English.
In his memoirs, Marcus vividly recollects most of his teachers. The Arabic language teacher was Sheikh Muhammad al-Kinawi, a strong and healthy man of about seventy-five years of age. He had lost an eye, making him look sinister when angry, but he was also very witty and enlivened his lessons by many an anecdote. He kept a heavy leather strap steeped in oil rolled up in a thin case, which he used on boys who merited punishment. He would make the culprits reach up to the top of the blackboard with the tips of their fingers and beat them with the strap on their backsides. The boys avenged themselves on his little donkey, which was tied to the railings of the garden of the patriarchal residence during his teaching sessions, by cutting off pieces of its tail. It was a day of great rejoicing for the boys on the rare occasion when the donkey was not at its accustomed place, on account of some indisposition of its master. Kinawi, like most teachers of Arabic at that time, was Azhar-educated. He taught the children that God created the first man from mud, then sent him to sleep, and from his rib created woman. When some mud was left over, he created the palm tree, which he called the “aunt” of man, because when a man throws a stone at the palm tree, the kind aunt answers back by throwing dates. Marcus recounts how Sheikh al-Kinawi did all he could to gain proselytes to the Muslim faith:
He frequently vaunted to us the advantage of Mohamedanism and its superiority over all other religions. I have still a vivid recollection of his praise of Islam. I may mention as an example the following quotations he made: On the day of the last judgment non-Moslems will say, “We wish we were dust adhering to the soles of the shoes of the Moslems,” because, he continued, “on that day all must cross the bridge thinner than the edge of a sword from this world to the next. Moslems are helped by the prophet, while non-Moslems fall under that bridge into hell below.”9
Another remarkable character was the English teacher, Mikhail Effendi Abd al-Sayed, who was the editor and proprietor of the newspaper al-Watan, and whose son was to become the well-known physician, Dr. Ibrahim Pasha Abd al-Sayed. He also kept a strap in a thin case in his pocket and would let the brightest students use the strap on their lazier classmates. Marcus, who was usually top of the class, recollects using it very frequently on his classmates’ palms. Mikhail Abd al-Sayed was one of