THE CASTLE OF ABOUKIR, AND TOWER OF ABULMENDERA.

The Castle of Aboukir stands on a point of land, near the Canopic branch of the river Nile, and forming the Western semicircle of the Bay of Bequier, where the British fleet, under Nelson, defeated the French, commanded by Brueys, on the 1st of August, 1798.The Eastern boundary of the bay is formed by the island of Delta, on which stands the Turkish tower of Abulmendera, a rude fortress. The small island of Bequier lays in front of the Castle of Aboukir, and betwixt them there is a rocky channel, deep enough for small craft to sail through. This island was fortified, and fired the first shot at the British fleet, as they rounded it and sailed into the bay. The Castle is very ancient; part of it rests upon pillars sunk into the ocean, and boats can shelter under the arches: to the right is seen, over low land and trees, Pompey's Pillar, and the minarets of the city of Alexandria; and on the left of the castle are the sand hills where Abercrombie landed with his army, and drove the enemy from them at the point of the bayonet. Every portion of this view presents something important and interesting to the reader.

The Castle of Aboukir is supposed to have been built by Julius Cesar, but the portion of it which stands upon arches is of more recent erection; the walls are very strong, and the apartments convenient on the roof are three small cannon, and in the front is a low battery of 24-pounders: about a mile to the westward of this, Pompey the Great was assassinated: he was flying from the field of Pharsalia, to place himself under the protection of the Sultan of Egypt; that imbecile monarch was alarmed, and thought, if he received the fugitive, the vengeance of Cesar would be visited upon him, and, by the advice of a eunuch, he resolved to invite Pompey on shore, and assassinate him.

The eunuch repaired on board, and persuaded Pompey to accompany, him in the boat, flattering him with a good reception. Pompey left his wife on board; and as the boat rowed towards the land, Pompey asked him "if he had not seen him somewhere before," to which the eunuch made a very peevish reply. The truth was, the fellow had once been a slave of Pompey's, and by him made free. Pompey perceiving that his conversation was not relished, stooped down, and began writing on his

tablets; the eunuch took the opportu nity, and stabbed him in the back. His wife, from the deck of the ship, gave a loud scream, and the mariners weighing anchor sailed away. The body of Pompey was thrown upon the beach, and at night his servant gathered a few sticks, burnt his body, and buried the ashes upon the strand.

It is the custom for historians to lament the fate of one who had ruled the world, thus perishing on a foreign soil by the hands of a wretch-less than man. For our parts we always looked upon his fate as merited, and a just retribution for the share he took in the murder of Cesar, who was his best friend, had pardoned him for rebellion, and advanced him to the highest commands in his army. Had Brutus and Cassius lived, they would, no doubt, have plotted against each others lives, and the survivor proved a greater tyrant than the man they murdered, for they possessed none of his gentleness of disposition, or magnanimity of soul.

The tomb of Pompey is a rude pyramid of stones, near which is a landing place for boats. We may say of him, in the highly poetic language of Doctor Johnson,

"His fall was destined to a villain's hand, "Upon a savage and a barren strand, "Leaving the name, at which the world grew pale,

"To point a moral, and adorn a tale."

Amongst the turrets of Alexandria, seen at a distance in our engraving, the most conspicuous is the column called: "Pompey's Pillar:" it was, however, not erected to the memory of Pompey, whom neither Augustus or the Egyptians were inclined to honour-A statue was anciently standing on the top, but only the feet now remain. Cleopatra's Needle is a beautiful pointed pillar, curiously carved with hieroglyphics; a similar one is prostrate on the earth, and both ornamented the entrance to Cleopatra's baths.

The celebrated Pharos, or WatchTower, once reckoned one of the Seven Wonders of the World, stood at Alexandria, but it is now a square fortress, with a lantern to direct ships into the two harbours; the rock on which it stands is joined to the main land by a causeway, that prevents the sea from rolling into the eastern harbour; anciently the Pharos was an island, about three-quarters of a mile from the shore. Julius Cesar, surprised by an insurrection of the Alexandrians, was defeated, and so hard pressed, that he rushed into

the sea, and swam to the Pharos, with the book of his Commentaries in his left hand: his escape from a shower of javelins was considered most miraculous. Buonaparte landed to the westward, near the old tower of Marabou, and occupied a defenceless city he ordered the Castle of Aboukir to be instantly garrisoned and put in a state of repair. The British and Turks, in gun-boats, cannonaded it for several days, but made no impression on the walls. Captain (now Adiniral) Hallowell landed, and destroyed a small camp, and numerous camels laden with military stores. The fire of the Castle was kept up briskly upon him, and the garrison making a sally, he had to wade into his boat chin deep.

From Alexandria to Aboukir there is a fine sheltered walk, amongst date and orange trees; and the village of Bequier, nearly behind the Castle, is famous for never being visited by the plague. A reason better than the salubrity of the climate can be given for this exception from that dreadful scourge: a canal, joined to the Nile, prevents all approach when the bridges are broken down: it reaches half way to the ocean, and the guns of the Castle effectually guard the rest; so that the very moment there are any symptoms of the plague in Alexandria, the Governor of Aboukir breaks down his bridges, points his guns, and suffers no living being to communicate with his district till the disorder shall

cease.

As a scene of Nelson's greatest achievment, our engraving cannot fail of being acceptable to our readers; for, of all the battles fought near Aboukir and Alexandria during ancient days, none surpassed in glory those victories gained on the land and the ocean, by Nelson and Abercrombie.

THE CALIPH'S LEGEND.

Of those who, wrapt in earth so cold,
No more the light of day review,
Should many a tender tale be told,
For many a tender tale is due.
Langhorne.

The castle of Abulmendera stands at the mouth of the Canopic branch of the river Nile; it is large, and rudely formed of ancient bricks highly glazed; it is a solid mass of stone, like the pyramids, and flat at the top, on which are mounted a battery of guns; it is ascended by steps projecting from the outward wall, and only one man can go up at a time; it has been excavated from above, and commodious apartments made, and over

the battery are rooms on pillars, where the officers of the garrison are agreeably lodged: it commands a fine view of the bay of Aboukir, the island of Delta, the city of Alexandria and adjacent coast: it is conjectured that this tower was built by the Israelites when in bondage, and the circumstance of bricks being employed gives probability to the idea.Upon this tower the French Colonel Sebastiana stood, on the night of Aug. 1st, 1798, and witnessed, in deep suspense, the battle of the Nile. Morning shewed him to which side victory leaned, and he had to contradict several messages he sent to Buonaparte during the darkness announcing that victory favoured the French. He says in one of his letters, that he recognised on the beach the bodies of many friends washed on shore by the waves, that he had left in health on board the l'Orient, and beseeches Napoleon to bear the intelligence with fortitude becoming a leader of republican Frenchmen. The Turkish legend of this remarkable tower is nearly as follows:

The Caliph Abulmendera was a hero who carried his arms to the confines of

India, and extended the worship of Ma

homet all over the shores of the Red Sea. He subdued Georgia and Circassia, and planted the standard of the crescent on the ruins of Babylon; he was feared abroad, and beloved at home. He returned to his capital of Memphis attended by tributary Kings, and his soldiers bent under the weight of riches they had accumulated.

He fortified his kingdom on every side, and the mouths of the Nile he beautified with a fine city, named Dimeta; of the marshy island of the Delta he made a garden, vieing with that in Paradise prepared for the souls of good men after death, to enjoy themselves in. Near this he built a tower, at once strong and magnificent, and this he made his country residence. There he used to assemble and entertain all the Viziers and Princes of his kingdom, and his mighty fleets used to pass in review under the walls up and down the Nile, with colours flying, martial music playing, and all the pomp of war.

Abulmendera had wedded a Circassian captive, who was fair as the first dawn of a summer's morning, and fragrant as the light breeze that wafts perfumes from the fields of Elysium; he loved her, and she returned his passion with sincerity. Years glided away; the kingdom and the Caliph were at

peace, and happiness smiled on every side.

Envy of the Caliph's glory called to arms the King of Persia, and the brave Abulmendera flew to meet him; he parted with his Sultana, nor would hear of her going with him to the field; he loved her far to well to expose her to danger. He assigned her the castle at the mouth of the Nile and the gardens of the Delta for her residence, during his absence, and apppointed the vizier El Hamet commander of her body guard. A man upon whom he had lavished riches and honour.

El Hamet became deeply smitten with the charms of the Sultana, and madly blabbed his passion to her, she heard him with the deepest indignation, and threatened him with the Caliph's vengeance on his return.

El Hamet's love was now kindled into hatred, and thoughts of his own preservation-he bribed her maids and attendants, and wrote to the Caliph, taxing his beloved Sultana with prostituting her heavenly charms to an Ethiopian slave.

The Caliph was distressed; the age and fidelity of the Vizier, left him no doubt of his truth, and he became like one distracted, nevertheless he pursued the war to a conclusion and then led his troops back in sorrow to the shores of the Nile. He arrived alone at the castle and summoned the Vizier before him, who repeated his accusations against the Sultana, and was corroborated by all her female domestics. The Caliph, burning with rage, ordered her to be instantly beheaded, and Elhamet saw the order put into execution with savage joy. The innocent Sultana protested her purity, and the Caliph turned a deaf ear to her screams, as they rose from the base of the castle where she was beheaded upon a black stone. For ever after, the Caliph was miserable; and one of the women, on her death bed, disclosed to him the conspiracy that had deprived his Sultana of existence, and him of all hopes of happiness this side the grave.

By his direction the Vizier and all the Sultana's accusers were thrown headlong from the highest tower of the castle, and their bodies left a prey to the jaws of the crocodile.

This bloody, but just sacrifice being over, the Caliph set his kingdom in order, and solemnly resigned his power into the hands of his only son Omar, who was born to him by the Sultana. Of all his mighty empire, he reserved to himself only the castle and the island of

Delta: there he passed his days in the deepest affliction & solitude, and suffered no one to approach him but his son, the reigning Caliph, who once a year made a journey, to mingle his tears with those of his father. This way of life was too severe to last long. One morning Abulmendera was missing; his afflicted attendants sought him, in the garden and on the shores of the Nile, in vain; but returning in the evening, sorrowing, they beheld him stretched a breathless corse and clasping the black stone marked with the blood of his beloved Sultana.

The castle has fallen for ever; the tower alone remains, from whence the detestable Vizier and his confederates were precipitated, and the black stone, enclosed in a temple, is to this day held sacred by Mahometans.

Such, reader, is the Turkish legend relating to the Tower of Abulmendera.

NAMES OF STREETS.

·

We remember hearing of an Irishman in Dublin who asked a gentleman if he knew "Mr. Brown, in London ?”— Were the Post-office to have a letter addressed to" Mr. Smith, Charles-street,' it would be long, we suspect, even with the admirable arrangements of that establishment, before it could reach its destination, if it ever did. It would not be any exaggeration to say that Christian names in most common use have furnished the titles of one-tenth of the squares, streets, courts, lanes, and alleys of the metropolis. There are above 50 John-streets, and 40 Charles-streets; Charlotte, the name of her late Majesty, is given to npwards of 30; and George, which is quadruply dear to the country, is actually given to no less than 75 places in London; so that the loyalty of the motive, praiseworthy as it is, will hardly excuse the confusion it creates. And to crown all, because we have not George-streets enough before, the wiseacres of St. Giles's have lately dignified that sink of filth and iniquity Dyott-street, with this Royal appellation. Next to the King comes the Church, which occurs upwards of fifty times; and the four winds, with Brown, Bull, Broad, and Castle, are to be found in every parish; while new and old have been hackneyed till the former has become the latter over and over again. A Correspondent suggests, very sensibly, as a remedy for this, that the sole power of naming streets, &c. should be left to the different district surveyors, who should be enjoined not to allow the same name to be used twice over.

THE REBEL's ESCAPE.

(A TRUE STORY.)

The days of the children of men are all numbered, and until his appointed time arrives every man is immortal. Life of Gustavus Vasa.

During the rebellion of 1798, in Ireland, many atrocities were committed on both sides, which humanity shudders to think of; hundreds were drawn into the crime of rebellion through mistaken ideas of liberty, and when the bright visions which dawned upon mankind, at the commencement of the French revolution, faded away, and closed in an evening of despotism and gloom, thousands saw their error too late, and repentance could not save them from the avenging power of the laws. Amongst those who lived to repent of his enthusiasm, and die a good and peaceable subject of the monarch whose power he once braved, and whose protection he despised, was Mr. Robert Gihon, a merchant of Belfast, in the metropolis of the North of Ireland, where he carried on business extensively as a linen-draper, and wine and spirit merchant; he was a single man, and brought up a little girl, the child of an only brother who lost his life during that unhappy, and turbulent period. Ā Miss B- whose family, of great respectability, were ruined by the rebellion, attended in Mr. Gihon's shop, and educated the child; she was a pretty delicate woman, about 22 years old, of a very sensible understanding, and highly accomplished. Mr. Gihon placed in her the most unbounded confidence, and all his wealth passed through her hands unchecked and secure.

Anxious to revenge the death of his brother, and at the same time an enthuslast in the cause of liberty, he joined the rebels then encamped at Ballynahinch, and it is said took a leading part in that battle. I am inclined, however, to believe his own word, for he was a man of strict veracity, and at the time 1 allude to had no reason for concealing the truth, he declared he ouly looked on from the hill, and did not even join the rebels after the victory. Thus his hands were actually unstained with blood, but he admitted furnishing both his councils, and his cash to forward the enterprises of the demoniacs in arms. He remained in the town of Belfast attending to his business, but kept communicating intelligence to the rebels in the mountains, making short and secret journies to their hiding places; he was then a very young man, but of a remarkably sober disposition, different from almost all the trai

tors engaged in these nefarious transactions: his advice carried great weight, and influence with the rebels in the counties of Antrim and Londonderry; he may be compared to Mavorocordato in Greece, 66 more expert with the pen than the sword," and many proclama tions written by him, and addressed to the insurgents, reccommend mercy in very forcible terms, and shew his character in an amiable light, that must make any man of feeling regret such a generous, humane,and noble mind should ever have suffered itself to be led

"Wild from wisdoms way"

by an infuriated multitude and specious ideas of unbridled freedom which man was never fitted to enjoy.

The style of the rebels proclamations and letters, disclosed that they were composed by some men of superior abilities, and the manner in which they counteracted many of the designs of the military, argued that they had intelligence lines of circumvallation. from Belfast, which was guarded by

Manned with a strong garrison and the head quarters of General Barber, who was district commander in chief,this enterprising and vigilant officer, soon discovered that Mr. Robert Gihon was "the head and front of the offending party," and sent an officer with ten men to seize him "dead or alive," at his dwelling. Mr. Gihon had no suspicion that he was found out, and was sitting that evening as usual in his arm chair, on the first floor, smoking a cigar, when a stone, round which was wrapt a piece of paper, entered the open window, and fell at his feet: he took it up, and seeing some writing, which he was unawhich his ble to decypher, he rung for a candle, tired into his bed-room to read it. servant brought, and re

He had not time to think; for hearing a stir in the yard, he looked out of the window, and perceived by a glimmer of light from the warehouse window, soldiers with pistols and swords advancing cautiously to the drawing room stairs, he threw off a dressing-gown that he wore and made a spring from the bedroom window on to the roof of a low house opposite, the distance being nine feet; the tiles gave way with his weight and he fell into a lady's bed room, who was in the act of dressing herself to receive company.