Chapter XVI The Campaign of Tel-el-Kebir

At Genjis Osman, Arabi, now the chief personage in the state, though still holding rank only as War Minister, held daily a kind of court, to which the provincial magnates, the Cairo Ulema, and the great merchants thronged. A huge tent, formerly belonging to the Viceroy Saïd, received them, Saïd's widow having presented it to her husband's once A. D. C. as a national offering, while Nazli Hanum and others of the princely ladies showed also their enthusiasm by gifts to the hero of the day.² It cannot be denied that Arabi's head was somewhat turned by these flatteries, and that they were the occasion of military jealousies which proved detrimental to the cause when soon after the pinch came. If Arabi should succeed in repelling the English attack to the point of their having to come to terms with him, it was felt that he would remain master of Egypt; and officers far better educated than himself, and with a better knowledge of the art of war, and who knew Arabi for what he was—a very poor soldier—felt aggrieved at the thought of his future fortunes and his present pre-eminence. Arabi himself was doubtless quite unaware of this, and in his dreamy way followed where fortune led him, and with an ever-growing superstitious belief in his high destiny and his providential mission as saviour of his people. His religious tastes led him to surround himself especially with holy men, and much of the time which he should have given to the secular duty of organizing the defence was wasted with them in chaunts and recitations. This seems to have been continued by him to the very end. What his ultimate military plan was it is difficult to determine. According to Ninet his calculation was that if he could prolong the resistance for a few months, Europe would be obliged to come to terms with him. The Conference was sitting at Constantinople, and the Sultan was being urged on all sides to intervene, and the worst that could