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Title: Khartoum and the Blue and White Niles, Vol. 1 (of 2)
Author: George Melly
Release date: February 23, 2026 [eBook #78014]
Language: English
Original publication: London: Colburn & Co, 1851
Credits: Galo Flordelis (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/Boston University Libraries)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KHARTOUM AND THE BLUE AND WHITE NILES, VOL. 1 (OF 2) ***
KHARTOUM,
AND
THE BLUE AND WHITE NILES.
* * * * *
VOL. I.
[Illustration: _Khartoum and the Niles._
London, Colburn & Co. 1851.]
KHARTOUM,
AND
THE BLUE AND WHITE NILES.
BY GEORGE MELLY.
[Illustration]
Second Edition.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
COLBURN AND CO., PUBLISHERS,
GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
1852.
LONDON:
Printed by Schulze and Co., 13, Poland Street.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
* * * * *
VOL. I.
KHARTOUM AND THE NILES _Frontispiece._
DRAGOMEN _Vignette._
MAP OF NUBIA _To face page_ 237
VOL. II.
IPSAMBOUL _Frontispiece._
THE AUTHOR _Vignette._
PREFACE.
* * * * *
The Work now presented to the public, is nothing more than a transcript
from a Journal kept by the Author during a tour in Egypt and Nubia,
(undertaken in company with other members of his family) only a few
months ago. The peculiarity of the relations of Egypt and the Porte at
the present moment, affords the Author the best excuse he can put
forward for appearing in print, and he hopes that observations so
recently made over a very interesting portion of the dominions of the
Pasha of Egypt, by a perfectly disinterested spectator, may be though
not unworthy the attention of the reader.
It is only here necessary to add, that we succeeded in penetrating Nubia
as far as Khartoum, the place of junction of the Blue and White Niles,
where few travellers had preceded us, and to which town no ladies had
ever penetrated before.
LONDON,
OCTOBER 5, 1851.
CONTENTS
OF
THE FIRST VOLUME.
* * * * *
CHAPTER I.
The Adriatic — Alexandria — The Grand Square — Pompey’s Pillar 1
— English invaders — Egyptian Cemetery — Cleopatra’s Needles —
Stroll through the streets — The Great Canal — The first pipe
CHAPTER II.
Up the Canal — Arab boats — Shoal of swimmers — Beautiful mirage 19
— Egyptian tillage — Atfeh — The lock — The Nile
CHAPTER III.
Cairo — Description of the inhabitants — Treatment of women 36
— Adventure of an Arab boy — Encounter with a native lady —
Courtship and marriage in the East — Taking home the bride
CHAPTER IV.
The water-carriers of Cairo — An Egyptian bath — The bazaars — 51
Turkish gallantry — Shopping in the East — The slave market — The
Court of the Cadis — Turkish justice
CHAPTER V.
The Citadel of Cairo — Mosque of Mehemet Ali — Moslem Carnival 70
— The College of Dervishes — Curious religious ceremony —
Presentation to the Viceroy — The Nepaulese Ambassador — Visit of
the ladies to Ibrahim Pasha’s hareem
CHAPTER VI.
Disgrace and flight of Artim Bey — Visit to Achmed Bey — Palace 87
of an Egyptian noble — Arabian horses — Tombs of the Caliphs —
The gardens of Shoobra — The imprisoned lady — Grotto of the
Virgin Mary — Heliopolis — Boulac — Ishmael Bey — The boats
CHAPTER VII.
Departure from Cairo — Ascending the Nile — Invasion of rats — 106
Our dragoman and retinue — The Pyramids — Nile etiquette — An
evening on shore — The Tombs of Beni Hassan — The first crocodile
— Shock of an earthquake
CHAPTER VIII.
Ossioot — The city gate — The mountain of tombs — Visit to Ismail 127
Pasha — Encounter with a Latin monk — Ekekian Bey — Story of a
cat — Arrival at Keneh — Visit to Hassan Said — The dancing girls
— Departure from Keneh
CHAPTER IX.
The Plain of Thebes 151
CHAPTER X.
Karnac and Luxor 165
CHAPTER XI.
Esneh — Dancing girls — Mehemet Ali — Summary justice — The 183
mountain of the Chain — Angling in the Nile — A battle with the
natives
CHAPTER XII.
Assouan — The treaty with the Reis — The quarries — The Persian 177
invasion — Caravan of slaves — Hunting for jackalls — Daireh’s
love story
CHAPTER XIII.
Philæ 208
CHAPTER XIV.
The first Cataract of the Nile 227
CHAPTER XV.
Korosko — Shooting excursion — Crocodiles — Ipsamboul — Colossal 231
statue
CHAPTER XVI.
Retrospect 255
CHAPTER XVII.
Itinerary for the Desert 282
------
APPENDIX 285
KHARTOUM,
AND
THE BLUE AND WHITE NILES.
* * * * *
CHAPTER I.
The Adriatic — Alexandria — The Grand Square — Pompey’s Pillar — English
invaders — Egyptian Cemetery — Cleopatra’s Needles — Stroll through the
streets — The Great Canal — The first pipe.
After a pleasant journey through Lombardy, and a very agreeable stay at
the city of gondolas and palaces, we arrived at Trieste on the 25th of
September, 1850, on our way to Egypt. Our party consisted of my father
and mother, my brother and sister, and myself. We had all travelled
much, and were thus pretty well accustomed to the small annoyances,
which those who leave comfortable homes in England to visit other lands,
must expect to encounter. But it should be borne in mind that two of our
number were ladies, which may show that the journey we contemplated was
neither too fatiguing nor too difficult; many may therefore follow in
our steps, and enjoy, as we did, a tour full of new and interesting
scenes.
We hoped, before returning, to be able to penetrate far into the depths
of Nubia; departing from the beaten track of Nile travellers, to reach
the 14th degree of north latitude, and add our names to those of the few
English who have gazed on the junction of the White and Blue Niles. Some
of us might have had wild wishes relative to the undiscovered source of
that mighty river: while others might have looked with some degree of
apprehension to the task of making a road where none existed, and
traversing a country hitherto explored only by men. We all agreed,
however, to go as far as it appeared safe and easy; meanwhile to bind
ourselves to nothing, but to be ruled entirely by circumstances; which,
in fact, are the real guide-books of travellers—more especially in an
unknown country.
The morning of the 27th of September, far as the year had advanced, was
a most charming one; for summer, like other visiters, lingers long on
the beautiful shores of the Mediterranean—never leaving the southern,
and but for a few brief months the northern coast of that blue lake.
In the middle of the harbour of Trieste, gay with Austrian frigates, and
Neapolitan corvettes, lay the ‘Europa,’ a large steamer, which was to
start for Alexandria at half-past eight. Before that hour we were all on
board; soon afterwards we bade adieu to Europe, and doubling the Pirano
point, stood down the Adriatic, skirting its rocky shores that were
backed by the distant blue hills of Illyria. Up to this moment we had
scarcely been able to look round us, so crowded were the decks with
shore-people, bidding adieu to Indian passengers, and Alexandria
merchants; but when delivered from these intruders, we found ourselves
in a large and commodious vessel, about the size of the boats plying
between Liverpool and Glasgow. Some thirty persons were walking the
deck, a few smoking cigars, and others lighting long chibouques, as if,
on weighing anchor to quit Europe, we were already in the East. We might
have thought that this was indeed the case; for the thick awning could
not protect us from the intense heat of the sun; and the Gulf of Venice,
unruffled by a single wave, looked more like a mirror than a sea.
As soon as we were well off, I observed a young Englishman, in a spirit
characteristic of our country, attack the captain about the passage—as
to whether it was likely to be rough or pleasant, with many similar
unanswerable questions as though the weather could be insured for the
next five days in the most changeable of waters. The captain—and when
does that authority not pretend to know the future movements of the
winds and waves?—averred that it would be a dead calm to Corfu, and
thence a “nasty bit.” That the dead calm might to a landsman be a stiff
breeze, I well knew; but the prospect of the “nasty bit” was really
serious, and remained a bug-bear to all concerned till the end of the
voyage. Like many such things, however, it proved more imaginary than
real; and we arrived at Alexandria after a beautiful passage of five
days, no one on board having any cause for disagreeable impressions.
Alexandria is flat, as is indeed all Egypt, up to the mountains which
form the Valley of the Nile. We were nearly at the end of our voyage
before we discerned any trace of the famous shores of Egypt; and then we
saw only the summit of Pompey’s Pillar, rising up, like some witness
from the past, to notify their antiquity and fame. Almost at the same
moment, we distinguished the masts of the Pasha’s fleet, and about half
an hour afterwards we could see the sand hills of Alexandria. At length,
we reached the port, entering through a channel between two rocks, not
two hundred yards apart, which constitute the natural defence of one of
the strongest harbours in the Mediterranean.
The instant we dropped anchor, the steamer was surrounded by boats, some
bringing off friends, and others sanitary officers; while many twenty-
four or thirty oared boats, full of sailors of the Pasha’s fleet,
dressed in white, kept continually passing and repassing, spite of the
burning sun, with all the animation of a regatta. In a few moments our
deck was covered. We had several ladies on board, who had come to rejoin
their husbands: they had deserted them and fled to Trieste on the
approach of the cholera—notwithstanding their conjugal vow as to
sickness and health. Their neglected spouses had hastened to receive
them, and were much affected at the reunion, sobbing like so many
children. Whether this, however, was in token of gladness, or in
lamentation for the loss of the liberty enjoyed during their
bereavement, it were hard to say. I observed that the gentlemen kissed
one another, and was surprised to find, on inquiry, that no relationship
existed between them, but that they were merely acquaintances. The
ladies, though it is their peculiar privilege in our own happy land,
were not complimented with these marks of affection; so completely is
the order of things reversed in this country!
Accompanied by a friend, who had kindly taken rooms for us at the
principal hotel, we made our way to the shore, where a carriage and some
donkeys, the animals most in fashion here, were pressed into service,
and we proceeded towards the great square, the chosen quarter of the
Franks. In the afternoon Mr.—— acted as our _cicerone_ to the lions of
Alexandria.
This, the first Eastern town to Europeans, and last of their country to
the Arabs—is of considerable extent. The houses are all flat-roofed, and
being chiefly white, look peculiarly glaring under the burning sun of
Egypt. The principal European square is a very gay place; and there the
traveller may take a last look at the mantillas, polkas, silks, crapes,
large-pattern trowsers, and black hats, which adorn the English and
French visitors and merchants, as they walk up and down on the shaded
side, parading themselves in the latest imported fashions. Each Consul
has his national flag flying from a high flagstaff, surrounded by a
circular staircase, from the top of which he can command a view of the
flat-roofed houses; the harbour sparkling with the flags of all nations,
and the beautiful blue sea beyond. English people, averse as they are to
public scrutiny, would, if exposed to it, consider these points of view
extremely disagreeable, they afford the means of discovering all that is
going on in neighbouring houses which they overlook.
In our way round the town we were obliged to resort once more to the
donkeys, and, to say the truth, they made no bad steeds. They are a
different race from those of England. The Egyptian donkey is always
pulling away at his bit, and is anxious to be off as fast as possible.
He never lies down, goes well, and scarcely ever seems spent. Instead of
a saddle, his equipment is a cushion of carpets, strapped over his sleek
and well-kept hide affording a comfortable seat.
The first of the Alexandrian antiquities that we visited was Pompey’s
Pillar, which, though it bears the name of the renowned General, was
raised by Diocletian. We could not but approach it with feelings of
veneration, as a tribute paid in a remote age to genuine heroism, and
majestic misfortune; but were disappointed to find that it was simply a
column of red granite, of great height, placed on the top of a hill. We
here, for the first time, noticed the disgraceful practice which has
grown up among travellers in the East, of defacing the temples and other
monuments of antiquity, by printing, smoking and carving their names on
stones which, apart from historical associations, Time has rendered
venerable. Pompey’s pillar has not escaped this irruption of the Huns
and Vandals; it is emblazoned in letters, two or three feet in length,
with the names of its barbarian invaders. I am sorry to add, that they
are British, as were most of those which we met with subsequently. After
expressing our disgust at the bad taste of such people, and their
effrontery in so parading it, we left the spot, wondering how so noble a
monument could have been subjected to such an outrage.
The hill on which this pillar stands, overlooks the burial-ground of
Alexandria, which, like all cemeteries in the East, is outside the town.
We learnt, on inquiry, that it is the custom to inter only one body in
every grave; and we were much struck with the curious appearance the
cemetery presented, each grave being marked by a little dome of plaster,
instead of a tombstone; being thus covered over as a protection from the
attacks of the numerous dogs that here prowl about at night. They are
also often surmounted by an aloe, the emblem of Eternity.
We rode homeward by Cleopatra’s Needles,—two fine obelisks of red
granite; one of them now lies prostrate, but the other, seventy feet in
height, may yet stand for ages. The fallen column is the property of the
English government, to whom it was presented by the Pasha; but a
disgraceful parsimony has hitherto prevented its removal.[1] Though
erected in honour of Ramesis III., an early King of Egypt, it is the
name of the wondrous Queen, that serpent of old Nile, that lends
interest to the spot, and we lingered to recal her strange, eventful
history, not without a feeling of sadness at the change which, since
that epoch, has come over her once mighty realm.
The streets of Alexandria are made of mud, battened down, which renders
them very dusty; and it is difficult, as there are no pavements, and
many people in the streets, to move along rapidly. Indeed, the crowds in
the Eastern towns excite great surprise in travellers; and it was not
till I went into the houses of some of the inhabitants, that I was able
to account for them. In England there are always, except in the leading
thoroughfares, more persons in the houses than out of them; but in
Egypt, during the afternoon especially, the entire population is from
home, except a few women employed in domestic duties. The children are
playing in the streets; the industrious are buying and selling in the
bazaars; and the idle, if poor, are lolling against the street walls,
or, if rich, smoking pipes and drinking coffee in the coffee-shops. Here
and there a carriage, full of gaily-dressed Frank ladies, preceded by an
out-runner, dashes by, in the avenue cleared for it by the Nubian’s
thick-lashed whip. Here a troop of soldiers, dressed in white, march
past, to the beat of a drum, which sounds as if it were broken; and with
the accompaniment of a fife, like a penny whistle, played grievously out
of tune; while in another quarter janissaries, in their hideous costume,
and armed with cracked pistols, hustle the people out of their way, as
they walk up and down. Every place is full of people, all trying who can
do the least, and kill time in the easiest manner; though occasionally,
at rare intervals, some young English clerk may be seen bustling along,
with his head full of business, quite indifferent to the scene around.
He is a new-comer, animated by our national activity, and it will take
some months to make him walk, and smoke, and loiter like one thoroughly
acclimated.
In the way back to our quarters, we passed the Mahmoudieh Canal, which
connects Alexandria with the Nile. This is one of the vast works of
Mehemet Ali, and the one, perhaps, in which he most signally displayed
his indifference to human suffering, and recklessness of human life. It
is said that 30,000 men were carried off by hunger and disease in the
prosecution of this gigantic undertaking—a fact which almost makes one
forget its great utility.
Here we saw many boats, but though they appeared sufficiently
commodious, they were generally very large, and we determined to wait
till we reached Cairo to select there the kind which we required, to
ascend the first cataract.
The thermometer being at 103°, the heat was very oppressive; we were
therefore anxious to get away as soon as possible, leaving the remainder
of the Alexandrian lions till our return. Accordingly, we made interest
with the Overland Transit Administration, who kindly entered into an
arrangement for providing a steamer to convey us up to Cairo.
Before we started, I was initiated into the art of smoking. We went to
call on a merchant, who received us in a room furnished all round with
divans—low sofas piled with cushions; and on our entrance, three
servants at once presented us with our first pipe of Latakia. I found it
more agreeable than I had expected, though—perhaps on the principle that
practice makes perfect—not so pleasant as many I smoked subsequently.
After this, little coffee-cups, holding about two spoonsfull, came on.
The cups were mounted in silver filagree; the coffee made thick, and was
extremely fragrant. I have never tasted any equal to what is made in
Egypt, though I am convinced it might be had, if we took as much trouble
to prepare it. The Orientals only roast the coffee when it is actually
wanted, and then put it, ground rather coarse, in boiling-water in a
little pot, containing just the quantity wanted. The moment it rises, it
is ready, and must be instantly drunk.
The custom of smoking, and coffee-drinking, is universal here, even
amongst the poorest Arabs, and you often see a peasant, arrayed in rags,
smoking out of a chibouque, the mouth-piece of which is worth at least
two or three pounds. It is often an hereditary pipe, handed down as an
heir-loom.
CHAPTER II.
Up the Canal — Arab boats — Shoal of swimmers — Beautiful mirage —
Egyptian tillage — Atfeh — The lock — The Nile.
The wind was blowing strongly from the south on the day we left
Alexandria. Thus we were at once to be exposed to all the hardships of
Eastern travelling, beginning the day with the sirocco, followed by the
worst night we ever had in Egypt. At an early hour we quitted our hotel,
and leaving our baggage to come on in an omnibus, proceeded in cars past
Pompey’s Pillar to the canal, where we discovered the small steamer
which was to convey us to Cairo. We at once proceeded on board, and
found more than a dozen other passengers assembled, including several
Jewesses, and the Indian officers and their ladies who had accompanied
us from Trieste. A few minutes afterwards we heard with surprise, and
with some degree of pleasure, the familiar direction to “go a-head.”
Soon our ears caught the corresponding cries of “stop her,” “ease her,”
we therefore made no doubt that the engineer was an Englishman; but, on
inquiry, he proved to be a black slave, whose whole stock of English was
summed up in these words. An Arab, anything but prepossessing in
appearance, was stationed in the prow, and kept up an interchange of
abuse, fortunately in his native tongue, with all the trading boats,
which seemed to make it their aim to offer us every interruption; and
certainly it was not their fault that they were unsuccessful.
We saw some pretty villas, though, for the most part, the passage on the
canal was in the highest degree monotonous. Its tedium was relieved,
however, from time to time by our watching the troops of children, of
all ages, who sprang into the water as our boat approached, and followed
us for some distance, gamboling alongside like a swarm of porpoises.
Indeed, water seems almost the natural element of the Egyptian; and it
was most amusing, when the wind fell, to see the crews of sailing
vessels jump into the stream, headed by a man with a rope in his mouth,
and swim ashore, where they towed away till, turning some sweep, the
white lateen sail again caught the breeze, when they all returned on
board. They swim well, but not in the European manner, for they use only
one hand at a time, which, though more expeditious, is much more
fatiguing.
When about ten miles from Alexandria, we came on a rare, and, to
strangers, most novel spectacle. It was the Egyptian mirage; and the
illusion was so perfect, that for some time, I could not be persuaded
that what I saw with such distinctness was not real. The vast plain of
sand, stretching far into the distance, assumed the appearance of a
boundless lake, smooth and serene as glass; the trees bordering the
Desert, became capes and headlands, washed by the tranquil waters, and
the white towers of the Suez telegraph, far in the background, were
transformed into a fleet of ships. The scene held us spell-bound, and it
was with a strong feeling of disappointment that we saw it vanish.
I have already mentioned that a sirocco was blowing; and though we had a
thick awning overhead, the heat was intense, rendering the steamer a
floating furnace. At last, we were fairly driven from the deck, and took
refuge in a small, close cabin, where, with every contrivance our
ingenuity could suggest, we were unable to obtain a breath of air. In
this situation, it was a relief to learn that we were approaching Atfeh,
the point at which we should quit the canal, and be launched on the
waters of the Nile.
Atfeh is a large village, composed of miserable mud huts, about six feet
high, surrounded by pigeon-houses; for everybody seems to keep pigeons.
We landed for a short time, and walked through the place, which we found
inhabited by the lower class of Arabs, and dreadfully infested by dogs.
What particularly struck us, was the ugliness, if I may be allowed so
harsh a word, of the Arab women; yet we found, as we proceeded further,
that it could be even more striking—in the lowest depth, a lower still.
The children suggested the idea of a plague of locusts, they were so
numerous; and, as if clothing was considered a superfluity in such a
climate, were all perfectly naked. And here I may remark, that in the
villages we visited, we found the inhabitants were all either very
young, or elderly; there were no persons of middle age; and it can
scarcely be conceived what a strange hiatus the absence of this link
created.
Returning on board, our steamer entered the lock, and as the water
poured in, gradually rose to the required level, when the flood-gates
were opened, and we floated on the Nile.
This was only an arm of the river, here scarcely broader than the Thames
at Putney, and muddier than ever was Thames at Blackfriars. Yet how can
I describe the feelings it awoke in us? or how eager and earnest was our
first glance at its waters?
From the earliest antiquity, the Nile has been everything to Egypt, and,
though no longer held in such high veneration, it is still her nurse and
mother. But for the Nile, her soil would be barren; her rich valleys, a
desert; her interior inaccessible. It is the Nile that fertilizes her
fields and pastures; the Nile that opens a highway to her remotest
villages.
It was, no doubt, for these reasons, that their great river was
associated by the ancient Egyptians with everything they held sacred. On
its waters they performed their solemn pilgrimages; celebrated their
festivals and triumphs; and when life was extinct, the bodies of the
dead were ferried over to their final resting-place. No wonder that they
regarded it with superstitious reverence—that they loved it as a
benefactor and worshipped it as a god.
Of course, till this moment, we held as an article of faith that the
Nile annually overflowed its banks, and inundated the whole country; we
found, however, that this was a vulgar error, as the river was now at
its highest elevation, yet remained within bounds. Indeed, the natural
level of the country is almost everywhere nearly two feet above the
reach of the water, and where this is not the case, artificial banks
have been raised, which effectually confine the river, while sluices
supply the means of irrigation. We saw this attained by other means as
we proceeded,—the water being drawn up in earthenware jars, secured
round large wheels, turned by oxen or camels; and each jar, as it came
up full, was emptied into a large trough, which poured its contents in
moderate quantities over a portion of soil. This machine is called a
sakiea. Another plan is to place a pole between two mud pillars, with a
weight at one end, and a goat-skin bucket attached by a rope to the
other. A man pulls the rope down till the bucket is filled with water,
when the weight brings it up again, and he overturns it into little
dykes, which, emptying themselves into sluices, are gradually discharged
on the land. Four men are required day and night to work one of these
shadoofs, and two or three are generally seen asleep, or smoking, while
another is hard at work. There is a similar contrivance every forty or
fifty yards, and thus the country is profusely watered.
We had gone but a short distance, when we came in view of a most
charming scene, and in the midst rose the little village of Foua,
composed of only a few mud huts, which, however, in this spot looked
exceedingly picturesque. A beautiful Egyptian sunset shed its glories
around, gleaming like gold on the tall palm trees, while the minarets of
the mosque, white as snow, stood strongly out on the dark blue sky.
Flocks of pigeons careered to and fro overhead, or alighted on the
glaring pigeon-house; and before us flowed the Nile, in her calmest
mood, giving a look of completeness and repose to the picture. It came
opportunely to compensate us for our hitherto monotonous passage, and
our eyes were unwilling to withdraw from it, for we now began to find
that the sketches of Roberts were not altogether imaginative, and that
we could recognise some of the places pourtrayed by his pencil.
This little oasis was succeeded by a flat, uninteresting country,
overgrown with reeds, and by extensive marshes, which abounded with
various species of birds; I noticed, among others, plovers, pigeons,
gray crows, variegated king-fishers, and huge hawks. Soon afterwards we
discovered two beautiful gazelles, which stood looking at our little
vessel for a moment, as if lost in amazement, and then flew with the
swiftness of light across the plain. Nothing could exceed the grace and
nimbleness of their movements, and we watched their progress with the
greatest interest. They are, I learnt, seldom found so low down the
river, though met with in great numbers up the country.
We were much amused by seeing a herd of buffaloes swimming for one of
the numerous islands. They were in charge of several men, who sat on the
hindmost of the drove, controlling the movements of the rest. It was,
however, no easy task to keep them in order, and the men had frequently
to jump from one buffalo to another, at the imminent risk of a ducking,
to reach some unruly beast which would not be restrained by moral
influence. I was surprised to see that these animals swam almost
entirely under water, only their heads being visible; yet they are
always drawn with the whole back above the surface. Such are the tricks
of artists!
It was now time to think of how we were to pass the night, and, with our
limited accommodations, this became a very grave question. The Jewesses
had taken possession of the ladies’ cabin, and with their inherent
predilection for garlic, and other national peculiarities, possession on
their part was tantamount to an exclusion of the English ladies. After a
consultation, however, it was determined to dispatch an embassy to the
fair Hebrews, to see if it were possible to effect some arrangement as
to windows, so as to secure a circulation of air; but, of course, the
mission proved abortive. We were now in a dilemma, and it required all
our ingenuity and gallantry to suggest a means of relief. At length, it
was resolved that the Jewesses should be left undisturbed, and that the
whole of the representatives of Christendom, numbering some twenty
persons, should pack in the gentlemen’s cabin—a little close place,
which gave an admirable idea of the black-hole of Calcutta.
Now Greek met Greek, and English good-humour and good-nature came out in
the most favourable colours. Here lay a captain of the Indian army, a
most agreeable fellow; but, in our restricted space, about a foot too
long, being of the unconscionable stature of six feet two. His head
rested on a sofa, and his feet on the table, in a very comfortable-
looking slant. In another corner, a Scotch lieutenant arranged some
cushions for his bride, whose wedding trip was by the Overland Mail; and
good care he seemed to take of her, though he took much more of himself.
My party disposed themselves as they best could. For my own part, I made
a good pillow of a carpet-bag, and went off to sleep with as little
delay as possible.
Morning found us very early on deck, in a tolerably dirty condition,
from the steam and soot which had poured through the open windows, and
with very narrow resources for amending the same. Indeed, a resolution
seemed to have been tacitly adopted, that henceforth every one was to
eschew razors, and moustachios and beards were to be allowed to develop
themselves in the wildest luxuriance.
On looking round, we found the country much improved, and could well
imagine it a land of perpetual plenty. The richly-cultivated plain,
scarcely two feet above the level of the river, was a perfect garden of
wheat, sugar-canes, beans, and lentils. Hundreds of men were baling
water with shadoofs, which discharged themselves over the fields, while
milk-white oxen, worthy successors of Pharaoh’s fat kine, walked round
and round in little sheds, turning the creaking sakiea. It was indeed a
scene such as only Egypt could furnish.
After breakfast, we came in sight of the Pyramids, which loomed out of
the horizon like huge mountains. They were still an immense way off, and
we were able to form some notion of their real height, when, though
standing on a plain of sand, they assumed at a distance such gigantic
proportions. From the moment they became visible, we could talk of
nothing else; and every one looked with impatience for the time when he
should stand at the foot of these Alps of art, and be able to inspect
them closely. Even the Jewesses were in raptures,—perhaps they went back
in their minds to that dark period when “the officers of the children of
Israel, which Pharaoh’s taskmasters had set over them, were beaten, and
demanded, wherefore have you not fulfilled your task in making brick as
heretofore?”
Early in the afternoon, we reached Boulac, the Wapping of Cairo, having
accomplished the passage from Alexandria in about thirty hours. We
landed amidst the greatest hubbub imaginable—as if all the population
had turned out to receive us. With some difficulty we made our way
through the crowd,—which had assembled to witness the arrival of the
boat, and conducted our ladies to a perfect London omnibus that we found
standing in readiness. We then saw our luggage hoisted on camels, which
bore our enormous packages, some weighing a thousand pounds, with the
greatest ease; but we were afterwards less astonished at this, when we
beheld a porter walk nimbly up a flight of stairs with a box weighing
three hundred weight, supported solely on his back, by a cord round his
forehead.
All being ready, we joined the ladies in the omnibus, which was dragged
off by four miserable Arab horses; and we soon found ourselves in
comfortable quarters at the Hôtel de l’Europe.
CHAPTER III.
Cairo — Description of the inhabitants — Treatment of women — Adventure
of an Arab boy — Encounter with a native lady — Courtship and marriage
in the East — Taking home the bride.
Alexandria had enabled us to form a conception of what we should see at
Cairo; but, in some respects, we found Cairo essentially different. What
first struck me, was the variety of race and caste distinctly marked in
the inhabitants, and the consequent diversity of costume, producing an
effect highly picturesque. Three-fourths of the population are Arabs,
and these are divided into two classes—rich and poor, or traders and
working-men. The latter are fine, well-made fellows, and being generally
about six feet high, with noble foreheads, and dark eyes, would present
an imposing appearance, were it not marred by a bad expression of
countenance. They have been denounced as excessively dirty, but I must
confess, that, on a pretty close view, I saw nothing to create such an
impression. Nor did I observe among them so many cases of blindness and
ophthalmia as I had been led to expect—though these diseases certainly
are more prevalent here than in Europe. In other points, however, I
found the labouring class in a much better position—healthier and better
fed, than the poor in our large towns; and I have seen more squalor and
wretchedness in the back streets of Liverpool than among the very dregs
of the people of Egypt.
The dress of the poorer sort of Arabs is generally a blouse of brown
cloth, or blue calico, sometimes it consists solely of a piece of cloth
thrown with something of a classic grace over the whole person; and a
tarboosh, or Greek cap, which, wrapped round with a roll of white
calico—a fashion much discouraged by the Pasha, as injurious to
health—becomes a turban. Their wives wear a long robe, also of blue
calico, a square of the same material thrown over the head; and a strip
of white or black cotton, secured across the nose by a brass clasp,
covering the whole face, except the eyes—the only attraction they have
to display. None but the very poorest and—since the dreadful truth must
be told!—the very plainest, have their faces uncovered in the streets;
hence it is fair to presume that these are the ugliest of their sex.
Indeed, though it may seem inexcusable to speak of the Arab women with
so little gallantry, I believe that they might all show their faces
without exciting the least sensation. Their complexions are very bad;
and, when married, they are tattooed over the chin, and their eyes,
though fine, are insufficient to light up features utterly vacant. They
seem to be regarded with consideration by their husbands, and are
treated with great politeness by the Arab donkey-boys, and others of the
male sex, with whom they come in contact in the streets.
The next class are the shop-keepers and native merchants, who dress much
better, wearing wide Turkish trousers, of white cotton or cloth, richly
braided; a jacket of the same colour, covered with braid; satin
waistcoat, and red pointed shoes. Their favourite colours are black,
blue, and chocolate, though many adopt a mixture of all. In this class,
besides the richer Arabs, must be included Greeks, Armenians, Copts, and
Jews. The Jews are marked by a slight difference in their costume,
having the trousers much longer, and wearing heavy turbans, made of
muslin and gold thread. Some of their dresses are very handsome, and all
are exceedingly expensive—the price of a common suit of cloth, including
gaiters, which, in wet or dirty weather, entirely cover the stockings,
being about eight pounds. Of course, it is easy to increase this to
thirty or fifty pounds, and even the last-named sum does not include the
magnificent turban and belt, and richly-ornamented sword. In this superb
attire, the rich citizen presents himself in public, riding a donkey—a
steed which may be thought very ill-adapted to such an equipment, though
here it does not present the sorry appearance that might be supposed.
The wives of these _bourgeois_ are costly articles, and their apparel
often amounts to a little fortune. A large, very full dress, slightly
fastened at the waist, and commonly made of shot silk, ranging over such
bright tints as red, yellow, orange, blue, and lilac, falls over wide
silk trousers, fitting on yellow boots, like demi-Wellingtons, which are
thrust into thick-soled clogs of the same colour. Over all this, from
head to heel, comes a sort of capacious cloak, of black silk; and a rich
lace veil completely covers the face and neck. Such a heap of clothes
naturally forms itself into a bundle; and it is no exaggeration to say
that one of these ladies, when in proper walking costume, takes the
street to herself, filling up the passage from wall to wall.
The highest class of native inhabitants embraces the Beys and Pashas, or
nobility. These personages dress something in the European manner, with
frock coats buttoned up the front, decorated with a star or crescent of
diamonds, which, by their degrees of splendour, denote the rank or
office of the wearer. Their wives are never seen in public, and a
glimpse of them can only be caught by great alertness, when they are
taken out, with an ostentatious cracking of whips, in a large close
carriage, emblazoned with gold or silver, and so jealously guarded and
curtained that even the air can scarcely reach them.
The vehicle is drawn by four horses, driven at full speed, and preceded
by a Nubian outrunner, whose long whip secures it a clear passage. The
adroit observer may then distinguish, through the half-screened windows,
certain piles of silk and muslin, and a few pairs of eyes; this is all
that appears of the lights of the harem.
The Nubian outrunners exercise their vocation in a very merciless way;
however, with equal surprise and pleasure, I saw one thwarted in his
vindictive purposes, in a manner that I cannot but record. An Arab boy,
with the mischievous propensities of his age, had scrambled up behind
the carriage of Ali Bey, a son of Ibrahim Pasha’s, when proceeding
through one of the streets of Cairo; but being perceived by the Nubian,
sprang down again, and made off. This, however, did not satisfy the
outrunner, who instantly dashed after him, his face distorted with rage,
leaving no doubt that he intended to inflict a most severe chastisement.
The poor little urchin ran for his life; at least one blow of the
Nubian’s whip, wielded by such a muscular arm, must certainly have
crippled him. So desperate were his efforts to escape, now darting up
the street, and then wheeling round and round, that the chase became
quite exciting, causing every one to stop and look on, though only one
dared to interpose. Just as the boy was sinking from exhaustion, a
Turkish lady drew him towards her, and threw her robe over him. Oriental
chivalry forbade the Nubian to advance; after a few moments’ hesitation,
he turned sullenly away, and the boy was set at liberty. Thus, the
ministering gentleness of woman everywhere makes itself apparent, and
her influence is felt and acknowledged.
Egyptian ladies of rank, as I have already remarked, are seldom seen in
the street; but soon after the adventure here described, it was my good
fortune to encounter another. I was alone in a narrow street, on my way
to the Consulate, when I saw a heap of female attire coming towards me,
taking up, as usual, the whole passage. My dismay may be conceived, as I
looked around in vain for some recess, where I might instal my poor
proportions till the pile had passed by. I was on the verge of despair,
when the lady, possibly in endeavouring to squeeze herself into a
smaller space, put her foot on her veil, which instantly brought it
down, disclosing a face of the most perfect beauty, a brilliant
complexion, and dazzling eyes, at this moment lit up by a smile. As she
picked up her veil, I caught a glimpse, through her half-open domino, of
a red silk dress, tied with a blue sash, white satin trowsers, and red
boots. She was evidently of high rank, and if so, could only have got
out alone in some clandestine manner.
The cruel seclusion in which the sex are kept by the Turks and
Egyptians, commences with infancy, and is preserved till death. This
makes an Eastern courtship and marriage as matter-of-fact an affair as
can well be imagined. As women are never seen by any of the opposite sex
but their husbands—not even by their cousins or brothers, except in the
streets, when it would be a gross breach of decorum to address them—a
gentleman who wishes for a spouse, having no opportunity of choosing for
himself, is obliged to communicate the circumstance to his mother, and
this worthy matron, who in all probability has previously well
considered the subject, soon indicates one whom she considers suitable.
The candidate for matrimony then requires a list of the lady’s good
qualities and attractions, which, of course, are in every case of the
most unexceptionable kind; and when he has made up his mind, he waits on
the lady’s father, and makes his proposals. These are to pay down a
certain sum, varying from £1000 to £20,000, not as a settlement on the
wife, but as compensation to the father, wives being always purchased
here. A part, however, of this money is laid by as a provision for the
wife, in case of her being divorced; and, as the husband would then have
to refund this, it serves to strengthen the bonds of matrimony in a
surprising manner. All being arranged, the father, suitor, and friends
repair—without the lady—to a mosque, where they celebrate the marriage,
which is little more than a simple question and answer. The question is
put to the father by the bridegroom, who asks, “Will you give me your
daughter to be my slave?” The reply is equally to the point, “My
daughter is your slave.”
Some days now elapse, when the bridegroom, accompanied by his friends,
proceeds to the house of his father-in-law, and brings away the bride,
who is placed, completely veiled, in a palanquin, which is covered by a
canopy, borne by the bridesmaids, who are under the direction of the
bridegroom’s mother. The palanquin is preceded by a grand procession,
composed of the bridegroom and his friends, a company of soldiers, and
two or three camels, carrying young children; and the whole are
marshalled forward by a band of music. In this way they traverse the
town, and at length reach the bridegroom’s residence, where the bride is
conducted by him, with great ceremony, to the apartments prepared for
her. He then offers her some magnificent presents, which she receives in
silence; and his mother and the other matrons, who are standing round,
politely recommend him to go and pray. On his return from the mosque, he
repairs to the apartment where he left his bride, and finds her alone.
He has not seen her face, or heard her speak, and a thousand
anticipations of her beauty flash across his mind. What if these should
disappointed? if her charms should be only imaginary, and her loveliness
an invention of his mother’s? With eager steps he approaches her, and
throwing off her veil, for the first time beholds his bride!
As I was not present at this interesting moment, it cannot be expected
that I should be able to state what the gentleman said. As a
conscientious traveller, I feel myself obliged to have recourse to that
extremely original phrase—the scene may be more easily imagined than
described.
CHAPTER IV.
The water-carriers of Cairo — An Egyptian bath — The bazaars — Turkish
gallantry — Shopping in the East — The slave market — The Court of the
Cadis — Turkish justice.
The water-carriers of Cairo, who rejoice in the not very flattering
appellation of beasties, form a large section of the population, there
being one attached to every house. An abundance of water, everywhere so
desirable, is here an absolute necessary, and, at the same time, is made
the means of the most luxuriant enjoyment. Who has not heard of the cool
fountains of the East, and of the value which is set upon them by
Oriental nations? Those of Cairo, with the ever-flowing Nile, furnish a
lavish supply of the precious element, which is carried in the goat-skin
buckets of the beasties to every house, and poured in floods into the
baths.
The baths are a feature in Eastern life, with which every European is
impatient to be acquainted, and I had been but a short time in Cairo,
ere I made my way to one—not, I must confess, without some dread of the
severe handling of the attendants for which I had been warned to
prepare. On entering, I found myself in a large octagonal room,
encircled by a raised divan, several feet wide, and covered with
matting. Here I resigned myself to a valet, who, after fulfilling the
duties of his office, conducted me into a narrow passage of white
marble, having a stream of tepid water, about an inch deep, running
through it, leading to a small room, where the water, now quite warm,
covered my feet, and ran over a marble slab on which I sat, enveloping
me in vapour. I was then taken along another marble passage, where the
water was warmer, into a second room, where it was still hotter, and so,
through another passage and another room, in which the temperature
gradually increased, to a large marble chamber, where the water was very
hot, forming a complete vapour bath. This prepared me for the Arcanum, a
room about nine feet square, as hot as a furnace, where the water, at
scalding heat, was continually running over the floor, which sloped
downwards, and was very slippery. There I was rubbed with a horsehair
glove, then plunged into a bath of the hissing water, about five feet
deep, and, being dragged out, was well soaped and scrubbed, drenched
with cold water, turned on my back, and treated in the most violent
manner. This process was followed by a second immersion, when I was
again pulled out, and shaved—a difficult operation in a dark room,
filled with steam; but which was happily accomplished, and all traces of
it effaced by a third and final plunge in the bath which completed the
course.
I had yet to undergo the severe operation of shampooing, for which I was
led back through the various passages, with the graduated scale of
water-heat, to the octagonal room, where beds had been laid out, and
every other preparation made. Reclining on one of the beds, I gave
myself up to the Philistines, and was shampooed till I seemed almost at
the last gasp, when, to my great relief, I learnt that all was over.
Coffee and pipes were then brought, and, under their soothing influence,
I began slowly but steadily to recover. Two shillings was the charge for
this luxury, which was certainly most agreeable in its effects, but must
be very enervating if used frequently.
The bazaars of Cairo constitute one of the attractions of the city. A
rather wide street, to the left of the Hôtel de l’Europe, leads to the
European bazaar, which is, in fact, nothing but a succession of small
and miserable shops, where every English luxury is sold, and,
considering the distance they have travelled, at not very exorbitant
prices. This is succeeded by a new street, the haunt of usurers and
money-changers, conspicuous among whom stand the sons of Judah; who may
be seen, with not a few Arab millionnaires, sitting at their well-worn
desks, with a large Milner’s safe open behind them, their features
impressed with that peculiar look of cunning, and sharpness, which
stamps the Shylock. Hence you immediately emerge on a more crowded
thoroughfare, and here, at last, a Babel of contending voices, and a
scene of bustle, baffling description, announce the native Arab bazaar.
The street, nowhere more than ten feet wide, is thronged in every part,
and the purchasers bargaining at the shops, are unceremoniously jostled
by donkeys, which are continually passing, laden with flour, sand, and
water, giving the idea of a Lilliputian market, while every now and then
they are pushed aside by a cart, drawn by a buffalo, and loaded with
sumptuous furniture, plate, or china, which the Pasha is removing, under
an escort of soldiers, from one palace to another. On one occasion I was
much surprised at the indifference with which the guards saw a piece of
gilding chipped off a magnificent looking-glass as the cart moved
clumsily by, crashing against a massive archway.
The whole of the people are in the street, as the shops, which are more
like little cages, can hold only the proprietor, who sits on a floor,
four feet from the ground, from which he can put his hand on all his
commodities, ranged in a small chamber behind. These consist chiefly of
the produce and manufactures of the country, such as pipe mouth-pieces,
and tobacco, corn, fruit, and every species of grain, Arab cotton
fabrics, and abundance of hardware and shoes. A savoury odour calls your
attention to a shop, where a quantity of little pieces of meat, pinned
through by a wire, are roasting at innumerable charcoal fires. They are
just a mouthful, and such a mouthful! the toughest beefsteak ever cooked
being tender to these kabobs. Yet the people eat them, with the coarse
bread bought at a neighbouring floor, with wonderful relish; washing all
down with water, which they buy for the tenth of a penny of the water-
carrier, who walks past calling out “moira! moira!” After this plain
breakfast, they adjourn to the coffee-shop, and regale themselves with
the never-forgotten pipe, and a cup of pure and fragrant Mocha,
undefiled by chicory, and pleasant in taste as in smell.
As the stranger advances, a different scene meets his eye. He has
escaped from the throng, and only two or three rich natives, mounted on
gorgeously-housed donkeys, are in the street, or a few Turkish ladies,
closely veiled, each attended by two of the watchful ogres of the
hareem. The richly-carpeted shops are enclosed in front by a divan, and
an old Turk or wealthy Arab sits in the midst, smoking a handsome silver
or gold narghileh, and complacently looking round on his wares, which
consist of Parisian jewellery, splendidly-mounted pipes, mouth-pieces of
lemon-amber, worth almost their weight in gold, rich silks from China,
muslins from India, swords from Damascus, and costly hilts from
Constantinople. A chain runs across the street in some places, and it
becomes necessary to dismount from the donkey and walk. Strangers
attract little attention, and I walked about here alone without exciting
any observation; but when accompanied by an English lady, she became the
centre of all eyes, and I have no doubt the old Turks were much shocked
at such a public exhibition of an unveiled lady, though I overheard them
likening her to a beautiful full moon, and making other flattering
remarks on her charms.
But though not stared at, the moment I accosted any of the merchants,
they replied to me in the kindest manner, and I was invited to sit on
the divan, and smoke the best pipe, whilst gold filigree coffee-cups
were dispatched for the thickest coffee, which made its appearance in
the most complimentary quantities. My hosts did not talk much, and were
very laconic in their replies to my questions as to the state of the
nation. They inquired after our ladies, but had I made any such inquiry
of them, they would have deemed it an unpardonable liberty. They were,
however, very communicative about their children, and, from what I could
learn, they all had a beautiful daughter at home. I went sometimes with
the dragoman, and sometimes alone, when, indeed, I was best received,
though I could only converse by signs, and this amused them much. But I
soon picked up a few words, particularly “taib,” good, which I told an
old Turk was the only word wanted there, as all was “taib.” He
immediately set to work unlocking case after case for my amusement,
displaying, among other precious things, some very rare slippers, which
I was afterwards assured were worn by ladies in bed. They were one mass
of pearls, and cost about £40 a pair. I was shown handkerchiefs of the
Parisian open work, in every stitch of which was a pearl, rendering the
article entirely useless; and mouth-pieces of amber were produced,
varying in price from £100 to £150, the value being thus raised by
diamonds, mounted in the gold rings between the joints.
I was never tired of this old man, and I saw him very often. He always
addressed me as the “Cavaghi,” a word which I had at first half
suspected to mean “dog of a Christian,” but was subsequently persuaded,
meant “Illustrious Stranger.” He never seemed to expect me to buy
anything—which indeed I never did, being content to see this done by
others. A lady, very richly dressed, came to him one day, and negotiated
for a pair of pearl slippers. She began by talking of all sorts of
things, and then offered about one third of the price named. The Turk
turned to me, and a long smoke ensued, when he came down a fourth, and
she came up, after another interval, to within about six pounds of his
last offer, and then she went off with the slippers, having stood the
best part of an hour. While the negociation was in progress, I offered
her my seat; but she did not seem to have the least idea of what I
meant, and stared at me with her beautiful but expressionless eyes, as
if she thought me extremely restless.
Lower down are numerous streets, composing the Greek bazaar and the
guild of the shoemakers’. In the former are the Manchester goods; the
latter is a sort of museum of red and yellow leather shoes.
One of the first of the public places in Cairo that I visited, was the
slave-market. It is a small square, the four sides of which form a sort
of barrack, or lodging-house, for the accommodation of the female
slaves. The males are exposed without, and I found here some eight or
ten little boys, from six to twelve years old, lolling about as they
pleased. They were a jet black, with very glossy faces, and thick hair,
matted with grease. They had a stolid look, and seemed very drowsy, but
appeared to be well-fed and contented. From them I turned to the female
slaves, and was introduced to one who was a beauty in her way, though of
the negro style, having large lips and a reduced nose, but remarkably
fine eyes, which, however, a tinge of dark blue round the lids sadly
disfigured. I put several questions to her, for the purpose of
ascertaining how far she was reconciled to her condition, and was
surprised to find, from her replies, that she did not consider captivity
irksome, preferring Cairo to her own country, and having a sanguine
expectation that she should obtain a good master. One of her hopes for
the future was, that she would be able to procure a good supply of
grease, to use in the adornment of her hair, which was dressed in little
plaits, having a very peculiar look, but was not at all dirty. Her
ambition being so humble, I could not refrain from gratifying it on the
spot, and won the life-long gratitude of herself and three other young
slaves, by giving them sufficient money to command the largest supply of
grease they had ever possessed. The price of these girls, I was
informed, was about thirty pounds each, but some younger ones were rated
at forty pounds. The boys ranged from five pounds to ten pounds. One
point in this melancholy exhibition I remarked with pleasure, not the
less because it was unexpected; and that was, the good understanding
that seemed to subsist between the slaves and their masters, and the
care with which the poor creatures were treated.
Our next ramble was to the Court of the Cadis, which, from its notorious
corruption, should be called the court of _in_justice. Here the scales
of justice are turned, not by the merits of the cause, but by the weight
of the bribe; and witnesses as well a judge must be purchased. The
judgment-hall includes three distinct tribunals, each of which has its
separate Cadi, and its own particular jurisdiction. The Cadis are all
appointed by the Sultan, at Constantinople, and pay a high price for
their offices, which invest them, in return, with the power of
dispensing justice to the highest bidder, and of practising the most
audacious acts of oppression.
The Court of the third Cadi, who tries the least important causes, was a
large open gallery, having a divan at one end, on which the reverend
functionary was seated, while a group of lawyers and scribes sat in a
semicircle before him. In this space two miserable Arabs, who had had a
quarrel, were arraigning each other with great acrimony, and witnesses
were called on both sides, who flatly contradicted each other in every
point—a common occurrence here, where a witness may be obtained to swear
anything for twopence halfpenny. Such petty causes are usually decided
in a summary manner, and the party who has the least money, not only
loses his cause, but is severely bastinadoed into the bargain.
In a large room above, we saw the second Cadi, a fine old man, with a
long white beard, which gave him a very venerable appearance. None but
great civil causes are tried by this court, which consists only of the
Cadi, and his clerk. We were passing on, when the Cadi invited us to
stay, and on our complying, ordered us coffee. Being accompanied by an
interpreter, we were able to converse with him, which we did for about
twenty minutes, and found him a strange compound of good sense,
shrewdness, and simplicity. He was very inquisitive about English
jurisprudence, and would hardly believe that corporal punishment was not
administered in our courts of justice, or that there was frequently a
long interval between the commission and the expiation of an offence. In
the East, a man commits a theft, and is tried, convicted, and punished
within the half-hour.
Leaving this hospitable magistrate, we proceeded to another room, where
we found the first Cadi, who is the supreme judge of the vice-royalty,
and tries only very difficult causes. He was magnificently dressed, in
red and gold, and was sitting alone, in great state, on a divan of rich
silk, where he smoked his long pipe in perfect ease. He seems to have
duties corresponding with our Lord Chancellor’s, is perfectly
independent of the Pasha, and subject only to the Sultan, from whom he
derives power, when the ends of justice require it, to summon the Pasha
and all his officers into his court, and call them to account. But I
have already intimated that no one well supplied with money need have
any misgiving about this great functionary. I must record one curious
instance of this. Mr. P——, the agent of a well-known house, had a bill
on a native, which he wished to recover, but it was necessary, as a
first step, to prove that the bill belonged to him, and, of course, it
bore the name of the firm. The difficulty seemed insurmountable, but a
native lawyer suggested a resource; and a shilling being invested in
witnesses, it was proved in court that Mr. P—— was the son of the firm;
on which the money was ordered to be paid.
CHAPTER V.
The Citadel of Cairo — Mosque of Mehemet Ali — Moslem Carnival — The
College of Dervishes — Curious religious ceremony — Presentation to the
Viceroy — The Nepaulese Ambassador — Visit of the ladies to Ibrahim
Pasha’s hareem.
On the heights, behind Cairo, rises the citadel, commanding a splendid
view of the city, and of the surrounding country. It forms the eastern
boundary of Cairo, and is strongly fortified and garrisoned. From its
ramparts, the spectator may survey all the public buildings, which rear
their stately minarets and cupolas on every side. Chief among these, is
a mosque founded by Mehemet Ali, and now nearly completed. It is an
extensive structure of stone, supported by twelve massive pillars,
formed of large pieces of Oriental alabaster, and surmounted by a lofty
and capacious dome, and two minarets of great height and beauty. A large
quadrangle, in the centre of which is a covered fountain, of polished
alabaster, gives a character of solemn quietude to the whole. But it is
impossible to do justice to the grandeur and beauty of the interior of
the edifice, which, when finished, will exceed in magnificence the far-
famed mosque of St. Sophia.
The majestic proportions of the dome, empanelled to the very top with
blue and gold, rise from many rows of stately pillars, superbly
polished, and gleaming in the light like mirrors, while the vast walls
and floor are of purest marble. The expansive ceilings are overlaid with
gold, and rich blue mosaic, producing a most imposing effect, subdued by
the chaste elegance of the alabaster columns. Hundreds of gilt chains
hang down from the roof, to which lamps may be attached during
festivals.
The structure is in the form of a Maltese Cross, and I should suppose
the interior to be larger than our St. Paul’s; but as hundreds of men
were at work there at the time of our visit, I could only make a guess
at its dimensions.
Only three of the mosques are open to the inspection of Europeans; and
these have, from some circumstance or other, almost lost their sacred
character in the eyes of the natives. One was polluted by Napoleon, who
converted it into a stable, quartering a regiment of cavalry in its
holiest precincts. Another is the mosque of Hassan—a very large
building, inclosing a square, in the centre of which is a magnificent
fountain, where the devout, carrying out the Moslem ritual, may perform
their ablutions before they enter the place of prayer. Four spacious
arches surround the quadrangle, one of which spans the pulpit, and
another extends itself over the reading-desk.
Our stay at Cairo was enlivened by a Moslem festival, which lasted four
days. It seemed to be a sort of carnival, and booths were erected under
the trees, the coffee-houses were crowded, every one turned out in
holiday attire, and some of the dresses were magnificent. No one could
be induced to work, and the feasting was general and lavish.
I witnessed a curious religious ceremony at the college of Dervishes.
Entering a large court-yard, I found between twenty and thirty persons
seated on cane divans, smoking pipes, and apparently waiting the time
appointed for commencing the service. A young boy offered me a seat, and
invited me to take a pipe and some coffee; so indiscriminate and
spontaneous are Eastern hospitality and courtesy, displayed even to
strangers, in the most public places. After a considerable interval, we
took off our shoes, and entered a spacious hall, rising to a dome of
great height, and hung round with knives, bucklers, and bows. Five
Dervishes were seated in a circle in the centre, on sheepskins; and
round the sides of the hall, bear and tiger skins were spread for
visitors. The Dervishes were now joined by others, and by a crowd of
devotees, on which they all began a low and rather monotonous chant,
though the effect, from the union of so many voices, was not
inharmonious. The Dervishes now numbered thirteen, but the devotees, who
seemed equally zealous, amounted to twenty-four, and were composed of a
captain in the army, a janissary, three or four soldiers, several men in
rich dresses, and a residue of beggars. Gradually their tones rose
higher, and they marked time with a motion of the body, swinging gently
from side to side. As the chanting grew louder, the swinging became more
violent, till, after an interval of about half an hour, they suddenly
became silent, and, jumping to their feet, threw off their coats and
waistcoats, and ranged themselves in a row, still standing on the
sheepskins. The singing was now resumed, and the whole party began to
swing their heads backwards and forwards; at first gently, but gradually
declining lower and lower both before and behind, till their heads
almost touched the ground each way, at every oscillation. So rapid was
the motion, that I counted fifty declinations in a minute.
From time to time, the dervishes left their places, in regular rotation,
and, rushing into the circle, incited the devotees to accelerate their
movements, seizing each by the hands, and making him a profound bow.
Suddenly a dervish darted round, and tore from every head its cap or
turban, which he flung into a heap in the middle of the hall. On this
two half naked negroes started up, and whirled furiously round on one
toe, keeping their arms outstretched, and moving so rapidly, that the
eye could scarcely follow them. In about a quarter of an hour they
stopped with the same abruptness, but only for an instant; they
commenced jumping to and fro, sometimes rising three feet from the
ground, and one young dervish, who joined in the exhibition, performed
feats that were worthy of Risley. This ended the first act, but so
exhausted had the performers become, that when, after a brief interval,
the second act commenced, only nine came forward; for the third there
were only four. As a denouement, one of the most zealous of these
fanatics, who had become excited into a perfect frenzy, endeavoured to
kill himself, by dashing his head against the wall. Being prevented from
accomplishing his design, he made a rush at me, which it was with some
difficulty I avoided. All the others, however, seemed calm and serious;
and I particularly remarked the grave demeanour of the soldiers, whom I
observed go home very quietly, beguiling the way with their pipes. I
then left the place, after paying about a shilling towards the
entertainment.
We desired, before leaving Cairo, to be presented to the Viceroy, Abbas
Pacha, and thought to have obtained this distinction on the occasion of
the presentation of the Nepaulese Ambassador, who had just arrived here
at this time, on his return to India. Our wish, however, could not be
complied with, as the Court was held expressly for the illustrious
envoy, and it would be an infringement of etiquette to make it a general
reception. All we could obtain, therefore, through the good offices of
Mr. Walne, her Majesty’s Consul, was permission to go in the
ambassador’s suite, and be passive witnesses of the spectacle.
At three o’clock in the afternoon—an early hour for courtiers—we mounted
our donkeys, and proceeded in full evening costume to the palace. Here
we waited for the ambassador’s _cortège_, which soon arrived. It was
composed of three carriages, the first of which, drawn by four horses,
contained the ambassador and his two brothers, with Mr. Walne, the
Consul; and the other two, his personal suite, and Major Cavanagh, the
political agent. We joined them on the grand staircase, and, ascending a
flight of marble steps, passed through two or three ante-chambers to the
reception-room, a large saloon, with a fine, chastely-carved ceiling,
terminated by a spacious recess, raised two steps from the floor. This
was fitted up with a divan of rich Indian shawls, and some state chairs;
which, however, failed to give it an imposing or even a furnished
appearance. The Pasha was seated in a chair, dressed in European
clothes, and wearing a tarboosh. We all took our seats on both sides of
him, Mr. Walne then advanced, and presented the ambassador, his
brothers, and one English officer; and the ceremonial was completed.
The striking figure of the Pasha, in his state chair, occupied the chief
place, giving greater effect, by the sober colour of his attire, to the
sumptuous apparel of the ambassador, which consisted of a complete suit
embroidered with silver lace, trimmed with rare sables, and his far-
famed turban, radiant with precious stones. His two brothers stood next,
in robes scarcely less royal, though of far less value. Four Nepaulese
nobles were gorgeously attired; and the uniforms of the British officers
had a particularly handsome appearance. Mr. Walne wore the full consular
dress, which is very rich. And a group of the Pasha’s ministers and
principal officers stood on one side, in the usual stately dresses of
the Egyptian court.
A series of complimentary speeches were now interchanged, commencing
with one from the Nepaulese Ambassador, which was repeated by Major
Cavanagh to an interpreter, who communicated it to the Pasha; and the
Pasha’s reply went the same round. All was in the most flattering
strain; which, if we are to put any faith in proverbs, this is the
practice at all courts, and is most certainly the etiquette in the East.
A more agreeable ceremony followed, which was the appearance of eighteen
white slaves, dressed in extravagant Parisian costume, each carrying a
splendid pipe, with bowl of gilt clay, and sticks embossed with gold and
silver lace, alternating on red or blue silk. The mouth-pieces were of
the most choice description; and rich tassels hung from the stem. One
was presented to each person, but I observed that there were scarcely
two of the same kind, and that each above me, was a degree more costly;
the choicest remaining with the Pasha, who had one about nine feet in
length, with a mouth-piece of lemon-amber held in the highest degree of
estimation, encircled by a ring of very large diamonds. The ambassador’s
pipe was even more valuable than this, and was magnificently decorated.
As soon as we had received our pipes, another troop of slaves advanced,
bearing brazen saucers, on which to rest the bowls whilst smoking, to
prevent injury to the fine matting which covered the floor. A third
troop, dressed in the same style, presented us coffee, the cups
decreasing in splendour, like the pipes, as the recipients were removed
from the Pasha. Those of the Pasha and ambassador were overlaid with
diamonds and pearls; mine was of wrought gold. As it contained only half
a tea-spoonful, I thought it had been emptied by mistake, but I found
afterwards, when I became more familiar with Eastern customs, that the
presentation of an empty cup is a high compliment, while one two-thirds
full is considered an insult.
We remained in the divan for about twenty minutes, when we all took
leave, and my party returned to our hotel, very much gratified by their
reception.
Our ladies were, of course, excluded from this visit to the Pasha, but
they were admitted to a higher privilege; and obtained access to the
late Pasha’s hareem. They left our hotel about one o’clock, accompanied
by an Italian lady, who, being in the habit of introducing European
ladies to these imprisoned houris, undertook to be their _chaperon_. A
long drive through the narrow streets of Cairo brought them to the
palace, alighting, they crossed a spacious court, filled with Nubian
slaves, and entered a lofty and commodious hall, hung with lamps, and
the floor covered with fine matting. Here they found a number of female
slaves, whose forms were models of grace, and some with features almost
beautiful. They were dressed in white calico, with wide or full
trousers, and a Cashmere shawl wrapped round them. Passing these, our
ladies ascended a superb staircase, almost lined with slaves, some very
fantastically attired; and were met on the landing by a daughter of
Ibrahim Pasha—a beautiful girl, about seventeen years of age, possessing
a dazzling complexion, and lustrous black eyes. The young princess wore
a bodice, scarf, and trousers of rich green brocaded silk, embroidered
with gold and coloured flowers, with priceless slippers covering the
tiniest of feet. Her long black hair was gathered up on one side, and
fastened by a brooch; on the other it was cut short, though behind it
fell in long plaits down her neck, and its luxuriance was partially
concealed by a turban of light green satin, put on very naïvely, which
gave an exquisite completeness to her appearance. At the summit of the
stairs they were received by the first wife—the head of the hareem—a
woman of commanding appearance, dressed in black brocaded silk, with a
very long train. By her they were led into a stately room, furnished
with silk divans, piled with cushions, and—what looked strange amongst
such Oriental furniture—two or three tables, the velvet coverings of
which were heavily embroidered with gold. Here they were joined by two
other wives, who, being extremely plain, had probably been married from
mercenary motives, though it is impossible to fix a limit to Turkish
taste. After a little time, two or three sons—of course, only
children—were introduced; and the company was further augmented by about
thirty slaves. The wives and their fair visitors now began to converse,
and, as usual in the East, paid each other some flattering compliments.
The former were very curious in their inquiries respecting a young lady
of the party, who they were astonished to find that she was not yet
married, concluding that she was at least betrothed, and would shortly
be claimed by her lover. When undeceived on this point, and assured that
she was perfectly free, they expressed their surprise in the most
amusing manner. During the conversation, a slave presented sweetmeats
and water, with napkins embroidered with gold. A second slave then came
forward, and kneeling, offered coffee in gold cups. Sumptuous pipes were
given to some of the ladies, but not to our party, who, as Europeans,
were known not to smoke. All this time the conversation proceeded, and,
turning on the subject of dress, was maintained with great
sprightliness—dresses on both sides being very closely examined. The
entire of the hareem were very animated, and seemed perfectly happy and
contented, as if their imprisonment and bondage, so mourned over by
Europeans, never cost them a sigh. At parting, the principal wife
attended our ladies to the foot of the stairs, and the door of the
court; and after an offer of sherbet (which was declined) the gratified
visitors came away.
CHAPTER VI.
Disgrace and flight of Artim Bey — Visit to Achmed Bey — Palace of an
Egyptian noble — Arabian horses — Tombs of the Caliphs — The gardens of
Shoobra — The imprisoned lady — Grotto of the Virgin Mary — Heliopolis —
Boulac — Ishmael Bey — The boats.
As soon as we were settled in Cairo, we proceeded to deliver our letters
of introduction; one was for Artim Bey, who had for many years held a
high post in the government. To our great disappointment, however, he
was not to be found, having absconded only a few days previously, in
order to avoid an examination of his accounts, which had been called for
by Abbas Pasha. It was said that he had gone to Italy, but it afterwards
turned out that he made his way to Constantinople, where he was
favourably received by the Sultan, and is now filling a distinguished
office in his service.
Another of our letters was for Achmed Bey, a son of Ibrahim Pasha, and
third in succession to the Vice-regal throne. I may here observe that
the title of Bey, which is hereditary, is given to all the sons of
Pashas; it is also frequently bestowed on men eminent for their
scientific attainments. Pasha denotes a much higher rank, though this is
sometimes conferred on Beys. Achmed Bey is by far the richest man in
Egypt. He possesses one of the largest estates in the vicinity of Cairo;
this alone brings him in £10,000 a year. He has numerous other estates,
and many ships and manufactories, besides upwards of five hundred
slaves, and last year he shipped from Alexandria twelve thousand bales
of cotton. He is said to be worth altogether about £200,000 a year.
On calling at the town residence of the great Bey, we found he was from
home, but were most politely received by his agent, with whom we had a
long conversation. The next day, this Afendi, as he was called, brought
us a message from the Bey, apologising for not visiting us, on the
ground of illness, and requesting that, as he was unable to shew us
Cairo himself, we would make use of his carriage for our ladies, and his
horses for ourselves, and go wherever we pleased. We thankfully accepted
his offer, and on the morrow, at nine o’clock an elegant English
carriage was driven up to the door, drawn by four Arabian horses, and
attended by two outrunners, with one of the Prince’s Afendis for our
guide: in this order we set off.
Our destination was one of the Bey’s palaces, a suburban residence, then
undergoing extensive repairs. We soon arrived there, and found it a
large white structure, of two stories, the lower one spanned by arches,
which had a very stately appearance. There were two wings, one of which
was to be appropriated to the white, and the other to the black slaves.
The lower apartments were intended for offices, and are on a scale
commensurate with the Bey’s dignity. On the first floor, opening from a
spacious hall, of greater dimensions than any I ever saw in a private
house, are the receiving and withdrawing-rooms, the guard-chamber, and
the apartment of the agent. The floor above comprises another large
hall, of the same size as the first, and four lofty rooms, painted with
the most exquisite art, and hung with dazzling chandeliers; while very
high windows, (inaccessible from the floor), give abundance of light.
These are the apartments of the four wives, or chief ladies of the
hareem, and could not have been approached at another time. I ought to
add that the upper floor is reached by a fine staircase, and that all
the recesses, both above and below, are gorgeously painted, and
furnished with superb candelabras.
On leaving the house, we drove to the stables, having had our curiosity
greatly excited by the stories we had heard respecting his stud. We were
first shown the great stable, which is about one hundred and twenty
yards long, and affords stabling to thirty-six horses, eighteen on each
side, every horse being allowed a space of about seven yards. They are
not kept in stalls, as in England, but are tethered by a rope to the
manger. The large stable was devoted exclusively to first-rate Arabs;
some of these were certainly very beautiful creatures, though small,
being not more than fourteen hands high. I particularly admired their
fetlocks and cleanness of limb, yet I have seen horses in England,
which, in my judgment, presented a more striking _ensemble_, and
especially excelled them in the shape of the head. The Bey’s horses were
all estimated at very high prices, varying from £500 to £1500, and a
filly three months old was valued at two hundred bourses, or £1000; but
these sums were merely nominal, as such animals are never bought or
sold. In an adjoining stable, we saw twenty or thirty carriage horses:
fine animals, but in no way remarkable. There was one magnificent horse
in the stud. He was an iron-grey Arab, thorough bred, with his pedigree
as carefully preserved, and as much prized as that of a German prince.
That we might see him to greater advantage, he was brought out of the
stable; and stood with lamb-like gentleness till an Arab boy, an Eastern
“petit Ducrow,” sprang on his back, when he became the wild horse of
Mazeppa. But the young slave was his master, and galloped him furiously
about, making him turn on one leg, and plunge and rear and kick in a
manner truly astonishing. During this performance, he quite realized the
masterly conceptions of Horace Vernet.
From the stables we strolled round the gardens, which are laid out in
the Italian style, without beds; are traversed by covered walks, while
streams of water, running in stone channels, (form continual cascades),
imparting a delicious coolness to the air. Shaded paths lead to a
circular pavilion, rising from marble columns, and overgrown with the
most beautifully-variegated creepers, red, blue, and jasmine. In the
centre is a bath of white marble, and a large marble fountain, carved
and polished in as finished manner, as if it had come fresh from the
chisel of Canova. Several handsome chairs and sofas were ranged around.
We were presented, on leaving, with two large baskets of fruit,
containing pomegranates, pears, grapes, peaches, and walnuts, all of
immense size, and of rare excellence. With these we returned to our
hotel, gratefully impressed by the civility and kindness of the Pasha.
We desired to see as much as possible of the environs of Cairo,
particularly the antiquities, and early one morning rode out to the
Tombs of the Caliphs; a most disagreeable ride, through a perfect Sahara
of sand. The tombs lie in a hollow, between some hills, from which may
be obtained a charming view of Cairo, the Pyramids, and the Nile, which
almost compensates for the blinding glare of the sand, and the scorching
heat.
At a distance, the place has the appearance of a large town, but it is a
city of the dead, being merely a collection of tombs and mosques, among
which the Caliph’s mosque, an extensive and stately building, now
falling into decay, is pre-eminent. Here, in a stone which no chisel can
cut, or impress with the slightest indentation, we saw some of Mahomet’s
footmarks, with indelible traces of his toes, left as a memorial to
believers through all time. The tombs, fast mouldering away, were of
every kind of architecture; varying in date from as early as 400, to the
present year.
Having ended our meditations among the tombs, we once more mounted our
donkeys, and an hour’s ride brought us to the petrified forest—an area
of about a mile square, covered with pieces of petrified wood, the
largest of which is not more than two feet in length. We were shown
three or four fragments, half embedded in sand, which still retain a
resemblance to trees. Searching about, I found some helix, which I never
met with before, and some fossils, chiefly fan-shells. The whole
journey, including Caliphs-Town, and our return home, occupied us from
nine till four o’clock.
Through the good offices of a Turkish merchant, with whom we had made
acquaintance, we obtained permission to visit the gardens of Shoobra.
The road thither, unlike that to Caliphs-Town, is one of the most
pleasant imaginable, winding through a picturesque avenue of acacias and
mimosas. The gardens are very extensive, and are laid out with admirable
taste. More flowers are grown here than at any spot near Cairo; and most
of the walks, radiating from the centre to every part of the grounds,
are covered with trellis-work, overgrown with beautiful creepers. Abbas
Pacha, however, has destroyed the retirement of the place, by laying out
carriage drives, which cut through the finest walks.
The great feature of Shoobra is the fountain: it rises from an immense
basin, seventy yards square, and nearly two in depth, and is surrounded
by a balustrade, dividing it from a sort of cloister, from which kiosks
project into the water. At each corner is a handsome room, expensively
fitted up, in the European manner, with easy chairs and sofas, and
divans, each in a different style of rose-coloured satin. The fountain,
which is the work of some eminent Italian artists, is supported by
columns of marble, of the most chaste and elegant design, and is
ornamented with curiously carved fishes and quadrupeds, over which the
water falls in glittering showers. In another part of the gardens is a
pavilion, the interior formed entirely of alabaster. From the windows,
looking in every direction, the eye may range over the gardens and a
wide extent of country, including the Nile and surrounding hills.
A palace, one of the residences of the Viceroy, rises in the midst of
the gardens. It is a stately structure, commanding a varied and
extensive prospect, and is fitted up with Asiatic splendour. It derives
a higher interest from its connection with a mystery, that has excited
many conjectures and speculations, and an incalculable amount of
curiosity; but has never yet been penetrated. That palace is a prison;
and the captive who pines within its walls, amidst everything that
dazzles and enchants the eye, is a young and lovely woman. Who she is,
or what has been her offence, no one can tell; or if a few possess the
secret, fear and prudence have effectually sealed their lips. Her
captivity has already extended over several years, and will probably
last till her death.
An hour’s ride from Cairo, along the picturesque bank of the river,
brought us to Old Cairo, a walled city, about a mile in circumference.
Here there is little to admire, though there are some strange-looking
buildings; and the archæologist, versed in antiquarian lore, will find
many objects of interest. The city is chiefly inhabited by Greek and
Coptic Christians, who seem to be a very simple and credulous people. We
were shown a Greek church, erected over a grotto, in which the Virgin
Mary, on reaching Egypt, is said to have found refuge from the Herodian
massacre; the building is regarded with the greatest veneration by the
devout Greeks. We were much more impressed by the flowing white beard of
the high-priest, than we had been by his Church.
Heliopolis, another vestige of antiquity, is a ride of two hours from
Cairo. The obelisk is very fine, resembling that in the Place de la
Concorde at Paris, though it is not in such good preservation. The
English Vandals have been at their work here, covering with vulgar names
a memorial honoured by a Ptolemy and a Cleopatra. A tree pointed out to
us as having given shelter to the Virgin and Child, during the flight
into Egypt, does not appear to be of this great antiquity; judging from
some I have seen, I should conceive its age not to exceed eight
centuries.
We frequently visited Boulac, the distance being not more than a mile
and a half; the road leading through the public gardens, under an avenue
of fine trees, chiefly acacias. The grand drive is terminated by three
immense mounds, looking like enormous barrows, enclosed by walls ten
feet high. We were surprised to find that these miniature mountains were
composed of provisions, such as corn, barley, beans, and lentils, which
the Pasha, like another Joseph, had laid up for the winter.
The streets and houses of Boulac are more spacious than are generally
seen in an Arab village; though much less clean, and commodious, than
those of Cairo. There is, however, quite a European air of bustle in the
town; the population having no lack of employment, is not seen, as at
Cairo, lolling about the leading thoroughfares, and in the coffee-shops,
eternally smoking and idling. On approaching the river from the bank,
one is nearly stifled by the clouds of dust rising, where vessels are
being loaded with corn or cotton, beans or lentils, shipped for every
country of Europe; and the stir among porters and lightermen strongly
recalls to mind an English dock.
There is a fine palace at Boulac, formerly a residence of Ishmael Pasha,
one of the sons of Mehemet Ali—a monster of iniquity and vice, who came
to a terrible end. He was engaged in a war with the Ethiopians, on whom
he had practised the most refined cruelties, when they fell upon him in
an unprotected spot, called Shendy, and heaping his huts round with
reeds, set them on fire, and burnt him alive with his whole hareem.
We availed ourselves of the opportunity afforded by our excursions to
Boulac to inspect the Arab boats, hoping to procure two, with suitable
accommodations for our transit up the Nile. We found a great many in the
river, of all classes and sizes, and with some difficulty escaped the
polite attentions of the Arab owners, who, whenever we presented
ourselves, would insist on our joining them with a pipe. Not seeing any
boats that exactly met our wishes, we one day proceeded from Boulac to
an arsenal belonging to Ali Bey, some distance up the river, where we
hoped to be more successful. Two young urchins, of the respective ages
of six and seven, carried us off in a small ferryboat, the cumbrous
lateen sails of which, puffed out by a strong north wind, were almost
more than they could manage. About an hour and a half brought us to our
destination, where we had our choice of boats; and having fixed upon a
pleasure-yacht, very clean, and just ready, were brought back by our
juvenile navigators, whom we dismissed with two piastres, (_anglice_
5_d._,) as a handsome remuneration for their services.
At Boulac, we picked up another boat, for which we were asked £20 a
month; we secured it at the rate of £20 for the first month, and £17
10_s._ for every subsequent month, and the contract was signed at the
Consul’s the next day. This we named ‘The Fanny,’ and it was taken
formal possession of by my brother and myself, as joint occupants and
commanders. The pleasure-yacht, which was not secured till after some
days’ bargaining, and considerable difficulty, at the high terms of £30
a month received the designation of ‘The Eagle;’ and was appropriated to
my father and our two ladies.
We had now to make our preparations. ‘The Eagle’ was soon equipped, and
‘The Fanny,’ to get rid of all redundancies, was first sunk, and then
painted inside and out, the divans being covered with new calico, the
floors matted, and muslin curtains suspended as a protection against the
swarms of flies. The awning was repaired, and the provisions and luggage
stowed. At length, after four or five days’ incessant toiling,
everything was announced to be ready. We had then to wait a day for the
Pasha’s firman, or letter of command, and it was not till the very last
moment that we received our game-certificates, which serve as a kind of
passport. Our boats, meanwhile, had been brought together, between Rhoda
Island and Old Cairo, about half a mile from the grand city, and there
awaited our arrival.
CHAPTER VII.
Departure from Cairo — Ascending the Nile — Invasion of rats — Our
dragoman and retinue — The Pyramids — Nile etiquette — An evening on
shore — The Tombs of Beni Hassan — The first crocodile — Shock of
earthquake.
A lovely full moon rose clear and calm on the blue sky, shedding its
silver radiance over the islet of Rhoda, and its dark green woods, and
over the calm and majestic Nile, which looked like a stream of light. On
the other side, the sun sank behind the hills, leaving his last rays,
upon the stately minarets of Cairo, whose groves of tall date-trees grew
darker every instant. The huge sails were loosed, and expanded to a mild
breeze, that had just strength enough to blow out the folds of our
Union-Jack, which waved proudly over our heads. It was an exciting
moment, but I cannot say that it was wholly free from melancholy; for
while we looked up the mysterious river with eager impatience for the
wonders we anticipated, we could not but feel, when our anchor was
hauled, that we threw off our last hold of society and completely
severed ourselves from all communication with our friends and country,
for we had crossed the confines of barbarism.
It was late before I went to bed, and I had scarcely fallen asleep, when
I was aroused by a pressure on my feet. At first, I thought some one
must be sitting upon my bed and was about to remonstrate but a sudden
squeaking undeceived me, and there I discovered that the intruders were
three enormous rats, which had settled themselves very comfortably on
the coverlet. Fortunately my boots were at hand, and I flung one into
the midst of them, on which they scampered off in great dismay,
vehemently protesting against such uncourteous treatment. I then got up,
and barricaded the door, in which I was assisted by one of our servants;
these men being rare specimens of their class, now claim a word of
notice.
Abdel Fateeh el Daireh, our dragoman, is a native of Ossioot. He was
recommended to us by the English Consul, Mr. Walne, and can produce a
heap of testimonials, all commending him in the highest terms, some
particularly lauding him as a lady’s man, in which light he was
certainly most attentive to our own ladies. He has attended several
distinguished characters, and been mentioned with praise in some well-
known works on Egypt. Being thus eminent in his vocation, the reader may
wish to hear what he is like, and I am but too glad to find a niche for
him in these ephemeral pages.
Daireh is thirty years of age, is not stout, and is about five feet
seven inches in height. His face, which is rather long, has the usual
Eastern expression of gravity and is adorned with scanty outlines of a
beard, moustache, and whiskers, apparently destined, spite of the pains
bestowed on them, never to arrive at luxuriance. A gay handkerchief
covers one eye, which he has lost by ophthalmia; the other beams out
kindly and bright. He wears a suit of fine brown cloth, à la Turque, and
a dashing red tarboosh. Daireh speaks Italian, French, English, Turkish,
and Arabic; harangues the crew, waits at table, washes up, and performs
a dozen other inestimable duties; charging for the same the sum of
thirty dollars a month, which those who know him consider very
reasonable.
Next comes Mahomet el Daireh, the brother of the dragoman. He is a good
valet, and when required, an excellent cook; is very clean and willing.
He speaks Italian and Arabic, and can wash, wait, and cut hair. He lets
out his services at ten dollars a month.
Our cook was Abbas, esteemed the best on the Nile, and the same who
attended Miss Martineau and Mr. Yates. He is a very handsome man, and
his dinners might be compared with any in the best restaurants of Paris.
His wages were twenty dollars a month.
Our fourth native servant was an Arab boy, whom we had impressed into
our service; and who, after being well washed, and dressed in a new suit
of clothes, made a most respectable page. Under the tutelage of the
servants, he became very useful, and especially excelled in lighting
pipes.
I should now add, that each boat had a reis or captain, a pilot, and a
crew of twelve men, all of whom were restricted from entering the cabin.
An order was also issued prohibiting smoking abaft the drawing-room, in
consequence of the proximity of the powder magazine.
After my first night on board, I rose early, and by six in the morning
was on deck. The sun was already high in the heavens, pouring his
dazzling beams over the sky, and making wood, field, and river sparkle
with light. We had advanced but little during the night, Cairo, where we
had spent so many pleasant hours, was still only three miles distant.
Its thousand cupolas and minarets, its marble palaces, and winding
streets, its groves and gardens watered by refreshing fountains, could
still be seen, spread out against the hills; hills that had looked down
on the wide plain for fifty centuries, unmoved by the fall of empires,
of dynasties, and of nations.
Mahomet made us some coffee and maccaroni, and we went on shore, taking
our guns, in case we should start any game. We passed through a number
of date plantations, and several villages, in one of which, called
Turnond, we found a manufactory of indigo. The country was so
interesting, and the objects so novel, that we were induced to walk a
considerable distance, beguiling the way with an occasional shot, by
which we brought down a crow, an owl, and several doves and hoopies. At
half-past nine we returned on board to breakfast, which on the Nile is a
perfect banquet; ours spoke volumes for the skill and proficiency of the
renowned Abbas.
After breakfast, we passed the pyramids of Abou-seer, Sakara, and
Dashour, and then beheld the mountains from which the stone used in
their construction had been excavated. We did not stop, intending, in
accordance with the established usage, to examine them narrowly on our
return. The landscape, as we advanced, became strikingly picturesque.
From the deck we could see a great distance—the banks of the river, now
at its highest point, rising but little above the level of the water,
and opening to view a wide sweep of richly cultivated land, interspersed
with villages and groves of date trees. Some interesting spot
continually presented itself, surpassing all that we could imagine of
Nile scenery. As day closed, the Mokatam mountains, on the east side of
the river, lent a thousand new features to the landscape, elevating
their rugged and fantastic peaks into the sky, to which the moon gave a
clearness and softness of tone impossible to describe. Surrounded by
such objects, we could scarcely tear ourselves from the deck; for even
at midnight—so marvellous is the light of the moon—this land of beauty
does not veil its charms.
The wind dying away, we were tracked up the river for some hours, at a
very good speed, by our active crews; they were at last relieved by a
fine fresh breeze, which carried us cheerily onward. We found the
scenery as interesting as on the previous day, though rather flat.
Striking objects, however, were not wanting; and the False Pyramid on
one side, and on the other a range of irregular rocky hills, stretching
far into the desert, varied its character. We anchored at about 8 P.M.
The next morning, a brisk wind earned us up to Benisooef, a large town,
situated on a picturesque bend of the river. It peeps out from a grove
of mimosas, of great size, that screen with their rich, green foliage
all the Arab quarter, disclosing only the dwellings of the wealthy,
among which two large white palaces, are pre-eminent. The mimosas yield
a delicious fragrance, that was wafted to us over the rippling water; on
looking round, I counted no less than fifteen plantations of date-trees.
We flew swiftly past, impelled by the fairest wind we had yet obtained,
aided by a spirit of emulation in the respective boats’ crews, growing
out of the most ridiculous rivalry. The race tested the relative sailing
qualities of the boats, and it was ascertained, on a comparison of the
result with their feats on other occasions, that “The Eagle” carried the
palm in a high wind, but in a mild or light air, “The Fanny” was her
equal, or even superior. This, as “The Eagle” was a Pasha’s yacht,
exceeded our most sanguine expectations; but I should not omit to say
that she was far the most heavily laden, as she carried all our stores.
The racing was kept up all day, and sometimes very unfairly: “The
Eagle,” on one occasion, in trying to get the bank, where there is less
current, ran her second mast straight through our mainsail, and tore it
to shreds. We had several other collisions, but this, the most serious
of all, obliged us to anchor for five hours, in order to repair the
tattered sail.
It can never be said that Nile travelling is tedious or irksome. With a
fair wind, the boats move rapidly along, and one finds abundance of
amusement in contemplating the changing scenery, so full of novelty and
interest, or watching the amusements of the crew. When the light breeze
dies away, leaving the broad and deep river beautifully calm, and the
tall woods silent and stationary, the traveller can go on shore with his
gun, and stroll through fields, meeting with abundance of objects to
engage his attention.
Our boats communicated with each other about four times a day. Generally
this could be done without difficulty, but in a very high wind, the task
was not so easy. “The Eagle” then came before us, and letting her gig
drift astern, we jumped into it, and were towed alongside, returning to
her consort in the same way.
Off Benisooef, we were entertained by a ludicrous demonstration of Nile
etiquette. It is the custom, it should seem, in passing this place, to
give the crews a dollar to buy a sheep. The douceur was thankfully
received by the crew of “The Fanny,” but as “The Eagle’s” men were
employed by Government, the reis, after some hesitation, thought it
would be _infra dig_ to accept it, and declined. The men, however, were
not so particular as their captain; his conduct gave rise to a very
lively debate, ending in a compromise, by which it was agreed that the
present should be increased to two dollars, when it might be accepted
with perfect propriety. But this arrangement was decided on without
reference to a very important party—namely, the donor; he naturally
demurred, considering it unreasonable that the dignity of these men
should be maintained at his expense, and refused to advance a farthing
beyond the dollar. We considered the affair at an end; but in this were
premature, for soon afterwards the crew, wisely resolving to pocket
their dignity, sent a deputation to my father, and carried off the
dollar!
On the third day from Cairo, we for the first time saw several pelicans,
and flocks of herons. Next day, owing to the lightness of the winds, we
made but little progress. About half past five we anchored off a
miserable village: in the evening my brother and myself went on shore,
accompanied by Mahomet, and bent our steps to the coffee-house. There,
to our surprise, we found the crews of our two boats, drinking coffee
and smoking; we could not refrain from joining them with a pipe, while
we contrived, through the medium of Mahomet, to engage some of them in
conversation. The moon was glancing through the branches of the date
trees with a light so serene, it gave an air of holiness to the entire
landscape, which was marked by the most attractive features of Eastern
scenery. In the midst flowed the Nile, reflecting the stars of heaven,
winding past a village on her opposite shore, which reposed under the
shade of a forest of palms. Through the trees we beheld the figures of
the villagers engaged in a rustic dance: what most impressed us was the
appearance of the women, loitering about at that late hour, in their
singular drapery.
We left this place next morning, with a fair, though mild breeze, that
was soon succeeded by a dead calm. This made the heat very oppressive;
and it was decidedly the hottest day we had yet experienced. A rack of
clouds, of which we had not seen any since our departure from Milan,
would now have been a welcome sight, as the sun was never screened, and
the glare was almost beyond endurance. We passed the fine cliffs of Beni
Hassan, starting up abruptly from the water like the heights of Dover,
by their white front reminding us still more strongly of the chalky
shores of Old England. But here the resemblance ended; and the face of
the country, the character of the landscape, the drooping palms, and the
majestic mimosas, with the almost naked forms of tall, copper-coloured
Nubians, constantly appearing, told too plainly how far we were from
home.
As night came on, our Arabs were still propelling the boat, accompanying
every movement of the pole with a general shriek,—a poor substitute for
the Canadian boat-song. It was very dark, as the moon had not yet risen,
and our little craft floated gently along, leaving a streak of light in
her wake. Suddenly, I heard a louder cry than usual, and starting round,
saw one of the crew, who had dropped his pole in the river, spring
headlong overboard. In an instant he rose to the surface, struck out
manfully through the waves, and, seizing the stray oar with his left
hand, swam after us for about fifty yards, when he scrambled on board,
and was soon seated again at his oar.
We were grumbling at the long calm, when morning brought us a favourable
wind, which carried us gallantly along, and we got over a greater
distance than we had gained on any previous day. About noon we passed
Min’ieh, a very large village, containing a sugar-refining establishment
belonging to Mehemet Ali, which looks like a small Manchester factory.
Mountains of bones were heaped on the shore ready for use. The country
presented much the same appearance as before, occasionally opening very
beautiful vistas.
To wile away time, I asked the crew to sing. My request met immediate
compliance; to divert us still more, one man, a particularly sprightly
fellow, bundled himself up in a heap of clothes, and proceeded to dance
in a wild manner to very exciting music. Gradually he took off every
article of dress, flinging each in a different direction, with singular
dexterity. When perfectly stripped, he sprang overboard, and dived under
the vessel, then re-appearing on the other side, he clambered to the
deck, and, with similar antics, resumed his clothes. Throughout the
performance, the whole crew accompanied the music with terrific yells.
We were much won by the simplicity and the ingenuous nature of these
men, who were always desirous to please, and gratified at being noticed.
The most trifling acts of kindness made a sensible impression upon them,
and were in every case appreciated. They set a high value on everything
we did for them; I may as well add that they considered us perfect
Crichtons in our attainments. One of them, while employed aft, having
caught sight of a sketch of the diabeheeh, described it in such glowing
colours to the others, that I had no rest till it was displayed. I asked
them if they observed a resemblance, and they clapped their hands, and
pronounced it “taib catere” (very good). The feeling was unanimous;
every man instantly requested that a sketch might be made of himself.
For three successive days we made but little progress, the wind being
too feeble to impel us against the stream. The men did their best to
track us, but the towing ropes, owing to the continual strain upon them,
were constantly breaking; and in the whole three days we did not get
over thirty miles.
We passed Manfaloot, whence our course lay under a range of towering
crags, starting boldly up, and overhanging the river for some miles.
Their appearance was very grand and imposing.
Soon afterwards we caught sight of the Tombs of Benihassan, scarcely
visible in the distance; they made us long for the moment of our return,
when we agreed to examine them carefully. Other marvels, however, were
before us, luring us eagerly on. We had gone but a short distance
further, when we discovered our first crocodile. It was quite a young
one, about five feet long, and was lying comfortably on a bank, basking
in the sun. We flew for our rifles; they were unloaded, and before we
could get them ready for action “the illustrious stranger” took the
alarm, and toppled into the water.
On the third day, about half-past nine in the morning, we encountered a
slight shock of earthquake. The boat was aground, and I was writing in
the cabin, when I was startled by a concussion, like the trembling of
the engine on a steam-boat, and rushed on deck to see what had happened.
One of our party was ashore, and felt it much more perceptibly. The
earth, we found afterwards, split in many places a full inch; and though
the shock lasted only half a minute, it extended for many miles.
We arrived at Ossioot, or Siout, or Essoot—for it is spelt thus
differently—at one o’clock on the following morning, having been ten
days in coming from Cairo; the journey is usually accomplished in seven.
CHAPTER VIII.
Ossioot — The city gate — The mountain of tombs — Visit to Ismail Pasha
— Encounter with a Latin monk — Ekekian Bey — Story of a cat — Arrival
at Keneh — Visit to Hassan Said — The dancing girls — Departure from
Keneh.
At six o’clock I was aroused by Mahomet, with an intimation that the
donkeys were in attendance to take us to the mummy tombs of Ossioot.
They would have been reserved, like all the other antiquities, for our
return, but in their contract, the men had made a stipulation that they
should halt here to make bread. And while they halted, we explored.
The way led through a grove, or, more properly, an avenue of fragrant
mimosas and umbrageous oaks, interspersed with sycamore and fig trees,
which extended for more than a mile, when we passed through a very
pleasant garden, teeming with luxuriant vegetation, to the town. The
first view of Ossioot is very striking—no less than eleven dazzling
minarets, towering over the grove of mimosas, above which also peer the
cupolas of several mosques. A gate opens into a small square, planted
with fine trees, that offer a grateful shade, in which scores of Arabs
and turbaned Musselmen, in their picturesque attire, were strolling or
staring in admiration at two or three richly caparisoned horses, in
attendance on Ismail Pasha, who was transacting business in a range of
offices which form one side of the square. Round the other side is a
kind of exchange, where the merchants, of whom there is a tolerable
sprinkling, assemble and trade in corn, beans—and human beings!
Crossing the square, we came out at a bridge, which spans a branch of
the Nile, then almost overflowing its banks, and brought us to the town.
This is exceedingly well built, in which respect it surpassed any town
we had yet seen, not excepting Cairo, though it is much less populous,
and the streets have less animation. We soon made our way through it,
and arrived at a viaduct, bordered with beautiful trees swarming with
doves. This led us to what appeared to be another town, but, though it
displayed a profusion of domes and minarets, peeping through a forest,
and covered almost as much ground as Ossioot, I learnt from Daireh that
it was the cemetery. A bridge immediately adjacent crosses a wide canal,
constructed for the purpose of irrigation, and comes out in front of a
mountain, the resting-place of thousands of mummies.
A steep ascent brought us to one of the massive entrances, and in a
moment we stood among a multitude of dead. The mountain seems to be
entirely hollow, and serves the purpose of a vault, on a prodigious
scale. A strange but ample light was admitted through the portal,
penetrating to the inmost recesses; but, disregarding the close, earthy,
sepulchral smell, we pushed our way forward. Pitfalls and heaps of
rubbish, the result of antiquarian researches, met us at every step; and
mingled with the stones and earth were fragments of mummies, encased in
their parchment skin. Numerous chambers diverged from this centre,
strewn with these sad reliques. Never had so many vestiges of mortality
been presented to me: nor can I say that the spectacle was either
pleasing or profitable.
After inspecting several of the chambers, I crawled through an aperture
into a dark cave, filled by myriads of skulls, heaped curiously round. I
hastily retraced my way to the hall. As I reached the entrance, a far
different prospect met my eye, for, through the yawning porch, I caught
a glimpse of the pleasant corn-fields and luxuriant trees without,
watered by the bright blue river, and backed in the distance by the
lofty hills.
An hour’s ride took us back to the boats, where we enjoyed a hearty
breakfast, which I think we had fairly earned. About ten o’clock I again
went on shore, for the purpose of paying my respects to Ismail Pasha,
the Governor of Upper Egypt. He received me with marked courtesy, and I
found him a most gentlemanly and agreeable man. His person is strikingly
handsome; and sitting on his divan, in an easy and graceful posture, he
looked the model of Eastern satraps. He entertained me with pipes and
coffee, and much more, by his conversation, which, though displaying a
strange ignorance on what we consider in England, ordinary points of
information, showed him to be extremely shrewd and intelligent. His mode
of accounting for the difference of climate between England and Egypt, a
subject we happened to touch upon, is extremely original. He thought
that it admitted of easy explanation, and that, as we descended the Nile
in going from Ossioot, London was so much colder because it was two
thousand miles further from the sun! But Ismail Pasha makes a very
adroit governor, notwithstanding the paucity of his acquirements; I
could not but admire the dexterity with which, while wholly destitute of
military power, he contrives to carry on and administer the government.
Even the lawless Bedouins submit to his rule, and dare not violate his
commands. An instance of this transpired while we were at Ossioot. A
murder, no uncommon occurrence in Egypt, was committed by a Bedouin, who
effected his escape; not being able to discover him, Ismail sent a
message to the Sheiks of his tribe, requiring them to give him up, or
surrender themselves, and be punished in his stead. It might be
supposed, that being without soldiers to enforce obedience, his commands
would have been treated with derision; but the Sheiks knew that he
possessed another power. In fact, the various tribes regard each other
with the most rancorous hatred; and the Pasha has but to give the word,
when they would fall on any who might be refractory. By thus setting man
against man, Ismail succeeds in keeping them all in order.
On taking leave of the Pasha, I made a tour of the town, and visited
several grinding mills, and some indigo works; passing thence to the
bazaars. These are of some importance, and are well stocked with goods,
among which I noticed a number of bales bearing the widely-know impress
of Manchester. The _entente cordiale_ subsisting among the traders in
these emporiums is very new to an Englishman. Here you have a whole
street of persons embarked in the same trade, or following the same
calling; you pass from a range of pipe-shops into an avenue of tailors,
or through a hive of shoe-makers.
In another quarter of the town, I noticed some slaves, but they had not
the same happy look as those I had seen at Cairo, and, moreover, seemed
fagged and jaded. They are brought here from Darfour, a long and
wearisome journey, to them a most trying one, many dying of fatigue on
the road. They are not all for sale here, but Ossioot, from its central
situation, is a halting-place for the caravans, and thence they diverge
to the most opposite points.
On my way back to our boats, I encountered a Latin monk of the
Franciscan order; as he was dressed in Turkish costume, I should have
set him down for a devout Mussulman had he not answered my salaam with a
“buona notte.” We fell into conversation, and I found that he was
attached to a mission sent out by the Propaganda, who have established
no less than ten churches in this country, over a space extending from
Alexandria to Khartoum. He had been out ten years, and had yet to remain
at Ossioot two years longer, ere he would be recalled to his convent at
Rome, to which he looked forward with tears of joy. During his long
exile, he had met with but one or two missionaries like himself,
proceeding to the different stations; and he described his life as very
lonely. I took him on board our boats, and showed him round, by which he
was much gratified; and, after partaking of some refreshment, he invited
me to accompany him home.
It was a delightful evening, and as we stepped ashore, a gentle breeze
wafted us the fragrant odour of the woods. At the same moment, the deep
sonorous voice of an Imaum uttered the call to prayer from a
neighbouring mosque, and True Believers turned to respond. It acted like
a spell on a motley crowd in the street, collected round a convicted
thief, who was undergoing the ordeal of the bastinado, and, at every
touch of the lash, yelled out most manfully. While all turned to the
temple of the False Prophet, I followed the priest through a low door,
and found myself in a chapel dedicated to the Messiah.
My surprise was great when I looked about me; I could almost have
imagined myself in Italy. The little church was clean and neat in the
extreme, with a quiet religious light creeping through the windows, and
falling softly on the three altars, each of which was adorned with an
admirable painting, such as one does not see often out of Italian
cities. The centre dome contained a picture of St. Ferdinand, presented
by the Emperor of Austria: there was another of St. Catherine, the gift
of the Empress. The good priest, who took great pride in his church, was
much pleased at my surprise, and at the estimate I formed of his
paintings; this led to a long conversation. His flock, he told me,
consisted of about seven hundred Copts, converted Turks and Armenians.
We smoked a friendly pipe, and took leave of each other with the most
cordial feeling on both sides.
We brought out some newspapers for Ekekian Bey, a distinguished officer
of engineers, who had been some time in the service of Abbas Pasha, but,
like all the Viceroy’s scientific officers, had just been dismissed. The
Bey is an elderly man, well-informed, and of courteous manners, though
rather abrupt. He is accustomed to English society, having been educated
at Stonyhurst, and resided for a long time at Leasowes Castle, near
Liverpool. By such intercourse, he has been led into more enlarged views
than are generally adopted by his countrymen. He came on board to
dinner, and entertained us with some amusing stories and anecdotes,
interspersed with shrewd remarks upon his countrymen, to whose
peculiarities, as a travelled man, he was singularly awake.
One thing he mentioned, in which we all most heartily concurred—that the
Egyptians have no idea of truth, time, or distance; and it requires but
one day in Alexandria to impress this on the dullest understanding. The
Bey had made part of the Khartoum journey, and gave us a lively
narrative of what we should have to encounter; encouraging our ladies to
look forward to the deserts with courage, and even confidence.
We left Ossioot early the next morning, and proceeded slowly up the
river, unwilling to remove our eyes from the scene we were leaving. The
wind was, for the first time, decidedly adverse, and we tacked all day,
moving at a very slow rate, and only accomplishing about six miles in
ten hours. The sun blazed fiercely the whole time, and seemed to
concentrate its rays upon our boat. We should have spent the day more
pleasantly, and perhaps as profitably, among the tombs, but on the Nile
it is well not to lose time; these six miles is a step onward.
Three more days of adverse winds, or calms, under a still raging sun,
were spent much in the same way; the Arabs towing us along very
unsteadily; with our stoppages, we did not cover more than five miles
each day. Our crews were certainly very lazy fellows; but their good-
humour was so perfect, that it almost atoned for their indolence. As we
proceeded, we saw many ibis and pelicans at a distance, but we did not
shoot any; and, during the whole time, we had but little sport.
On the third morning, we missed our cat, a most sprightly animal, which
had been engaged at Ossioot, and had become a particular favourite with
the crew, who were much dejected at its disappearance. Hearing, however,
that a heaven-born cat had fallen from the clouds into the other boat, I
thought that such a prodigy might possibly be able to give some account
of ours. On boarding our consort, I found its resemblance so striking,
that when four of ‘The Fanny’s’ crew made a solemn declaration it was
the same, I laid claim to it. ‘The Eagle’s’ men, undaunted by our
scepticism, persisted in asserting that they had seen it come down from
heaven; but the earthly character of the cat was proved beyond dispute,
and she was carried back in triumph, to the great joy of our crew.
A fair wind came with the following morning, and carried us along
rapidly for about a dozen miles, when it grew so boisterous, that we
were obliged to draw up by the bank, and drop the anchors. It continued
blowing all day, and during the greater part of the night, whirling past
our cabin windows in furious gusts, such as might be looked for in rough
weather on the coasts of England. It lulled towards morning, and with
the first light we hoisted sail, and resumed our voyage.
This day we gained sixty miles, passing Giorgeh, and many other towns
and villages, all nestling under the pleasant shade of date and palm
trees. These trees, viewed at a distance, appear like dwarfed oaks, with
sturdy, wide-spreading branches, covered with luxuriant foliage, but on
coming nearer, their leaves take a fan-like shape, and their graceful
boughs are found to be loaded with fruit, some of the clumps comprising
as many as two or three hundred separate nuts. Soon after passing
Giorgeh, we saw an enormous crocodile, which, as if to show its fair
proportions, scrambled out of the water on to a small islet, where he
strolled leisurely about. Unfortunately we could not get a chance of a
shot, for before he came well out, the breeze bore us swiftly past, and
he was soon out of sight. By the evening we advanced as far as
Shandowak.
The wind continuing propitious, we made considerable progress next day;
and on the day following we had a gentle breeze, which earned us past
Farshook, with its countless tall chimneys and busy sugar-works, and in
front of Dishnek, and graceful Esneh, famed for its Almi or dancing
girls. At eight o’clock on the morning of the 5th of November, in honour
of which day we had hoisted our three flags, the boats came to anchor
about five miles from Keneh, having accomplished the journey from Cairo
in seventeen days, the time it usually occupies.
Early next morning we reached Keneh, and immediately going on shore,
proceeded to our Agent, who is Her Majesty’s Consul, for our letters,
which were to await us here. We were directed to the bazaar, and on our
way, passed through several spacious coffee-shops already pretty well
attended. Among the company, we noticed some fine-looking Arabs, in
their high turbans and flowing robes, with long white beards falling on
their breasts. Pipes and coffee were in great request among these sages.
The bazaar, whither we soon arrived, was equal to that of Ossioot. Our
dragoman brought us to the Consul, a son of Anak, of colossal
dimensions, and upwards of a century old, having confessed to ninety-
seven five years ago, though, in accordance with Eastern custom, he has
since retrograded to ninety-four. He was enveloped in no less than five
togas, the outermost of which was a blanket, and the one next his skin
composed of fine linen. His head was immured in a turban, at least three
feet in diameter, forming a perfect mountain of white muslin,
intervolved with a Cachmere shawl. This venerable patriarch, who bore
the name of Hassan Said, was seated in a sort of box, in front of his
shop, which was stored with a variety of commodities. By his side sat
his grandson and great grandson, the former of whom had reached the
mature age of twenty-five.
Hassan, though a very intelligent old man, and the representative of
England in these parts, can neither read nor write. He was a good ripe
age when the French invaded Egypt, and talks very glibly about Napoleon
and Kleber. He is reputed extremely wealthy, and possesses a great deal
of land, and herds of camels and sheep. His grandson, by his direction,
conducted us to his house, where we obtained our letters, and our
firman, giving us permission to traverse Nubia. Some chairs were brought
into the court-yard, which was cold and muddy; and here we were regaled
with pipes and coffee, both of inferior quality.
We lost no time in looking over our letters, and were thus engaged, when
a man came into the court, dressed in a short English pea-coat, and _ci-
devant_ fashionable trowsers, the work of a Parisian artist; and
introduced himself as a Greek merchant, who could give us some
information about the country. The fellow made the most extraordinary
gestures I ever saw; the attitudes he assumed were so ludicrous, that it
was with difficulty I could refrain from laughing. By his own account,
he was familiar with the route to Khartoum, and had often crossed the
desert; it is but justice to say, that when we resumed our journey, the
information he had given us proved both valuable and correct. I invited
him on board ‘The Fanny’ to smoke a pipe, and, on our way down,
questioned him about the hippopotami and millia, on which he stopped in
the middle of the road, and commenced a series of antics, illustrative
of the habits of those animals, till all the Arab children within hail,
though not easily aroused to action, came rushing up to see what was the
matter. Then he showed me how the gazelle runs, and how it could best be
shot, winding up with a lesson in camel riding, during which he swung
himself backwards and forwards in the drollest manner, as if he were
actually on a camel’s back. I was glad to retreat to the boat, where we
had two pipes, and talked about Khartoum, with illustrations by the
Greek, till the subject was exhausted.
Meanwhile, our Consul, being lifted on his ass, came down, heavy with
years and turban, to call upon us, under the pretext of paying his
devoir to our ladies, but his real mission was maraschino. The fact is,
old Hassan is noted for his impudence, and his _penchant_ for brandy,
and is always on the look-out for presents. We gave him a pipe and some
coffee, but he was disappointed in the brandy; and finding, after an
interval of about half an hour, that it was not forthcoming, he went
off.
In strolling through the town, I saw some of the dancing girls. They
were standing at their doors, laughing and joking, and seemed a merry
and reckless set. Their forms, more liberally displayed than was
strictly consistent with Oriental decorum, seemed elastic and graceful,
and were attired in gorgeous dresses of pink silk, bedizened with
jewellery.
A melancholy contrast to these nymphs met us on the beach—a party of
wretched old hags, bent with age and want, and having their half-naked
forms hung with rags. These were the dancing girls of a past age.
By noon, Daireh, who acted as our caterer, had completed his purchases,
and hoisting our sail, a mild breeze bore us away. We kept on our course
for five hours, when we hauled in the sails, and anchored for the night.
The evening passed in comparing notes respecting what we had seen, in
looking over and filling up our journals, in making drawings, and—in
talking about home.
The next two days we had but little wind, and were obliged to resort to
tacking. Meanwhile, one of our Arabs, whose services could ill be
spared, went on the sick list, and I had a strong suspicion that he was
skulking. Whether he were or not, his docility and obedience to orders
made him a pattern patient; could we imitate the Arabs in these points,
we should prove much less profitable to the doctors. He was given a dose
of medicine, and kept without food for twelve hours, when he came aft,
and petitioned for a pipe. This was refused, but gruel allowed, and next
day he was convalescent, and showed himself very alert.
As we advanced further up the river, the flies, which had all along been
very troublesome, became a perfect torment, and so bold, that we had
great difficulty in keeping them out of our eyes. The breeze dying away,
left us completely at their mercy; when evening fell, we had the
mortification of learning that we were still two hours’ sail from the
point we had hoped to reach. Even the next day brought us no wind, and
it was not till one in the afternoon that we anchored off a grove of
sycamores, and turned our eyes on the majestic ruin around. It was
THEBES!
CHAPTER IX.
The Plain of Thebes.
Many miles from the renowned city, we could distinguish in every
direction its vast remains, lying about in confused heaps. Rounding a
bend in the river, a wide plain extends from either bank, sweeping back
to a range of mountains, which lock it in on every side. It is
cultivated to the water’s edge, and groups of date-trees rise amidst
waving sugar-canes, or encircle the fields of golden corn, that stretch
far back, covering with verdure the fragments of one of the noblest
capitals of the ancient world.
Geologists have displayed to us the changes which the crust of the earth
has undergone from a period long anterior to any history, sacred or
profane; and have made known its strange inhabitants, during these
remote times. On the surface, there are wonders quite as marvellous as
those beneath it, in the various strata which have been created by the
convulsions of Time, wherein are fossils, apparently as extravagant in
their proportions, as any that figure in Palæontology. Thebes stands
prominent among the wonders of the buried Past—the most stupendous of
the Saurians of history—colossal in its proportions, extraordinary in
its character, and totally distinct in all its features from the cities
of the Present. The fossils of Natural History, however different as
organized beings from the fossils to which I am alluding, possess much
similarity with them. To carry the simile further, Egypt may be looked
upon as the old red sand-stone of history, abounding in traces of a
remote age, and a different state of being. It is impossible to express
the sensations which the modern traveller, with his modern sympathies
and associations, experiences on being, for the first time, brought
under the influence of a long-buried century. In gazing upon Thebes, he
looks back upon the world some thousands of years. There is nothing,
either in art or in nature, in the observation of which he is so
completely detached from himself and his era.
It was Sunday, and an atmosphere of silence and repose spread from one
ridge of mountains to the other, as if the Sabbath here extended even to
nature. The sun, as we advanced up the river, had risen slowly over the
heights, breaking the mist into silvery fleeces, and steeping the lofty
peaks in the most radiant tints. We saw the temples in the distance,
looming through the haze, like cities of refuge; and it seemed as if
they would never come nearer. A breath of wind filled our sail,
propelling the bark for a few moments, and inspiring us with new hope;
but soon we were again becalmed, and slowly and with difficulty made any
progress. The telescope passed from hand to hand; and as we looked more
narrowly, the confused mass took shape and order, and we gazed with
wonder over the acres of ruin, which bear the proud name of Karnac, to
the summit of Medeenah Haboo, under whose picturesque crags lie the
tombs of the kings.
On reaching the anchorage by the famous sycamores, we were obliged to
wait two hours for ‘The Eagle,’ which had been left far in our wake; and
we spent the interval in making arrangements for an excursion on shore.
At length she came up, but took the wrong side of the river; and it was
not till after considerable further delay that our party united, and
were all safely landed. We were then quickly in the saddle, and after
passing through several fields of corn and sugar-cane, emerged on an
expanse of bare stony land, full of holes; doubtless once smooth as a
lawn, and tracked with the fairest avenues of the city. It now verges on
the desert, near which is the small temple of Gournou—an interesting
ruin, but from its humble dimensions, scarcely noticed by the traveller.
After strolling through it, we spurred forward with increased
impatience, and a short ride brought us to the Memnonium.
The astonishment and awe which the first view of this stupendous fabric
inspires can scarcely be conceived. We glanced from one pillar to
another, on every side of the vast area, till we became perfectly
bewildered, and felt inclined to doubt that we were contemplating a work
of man. The grandeur and magnitude of the structure, wrought out in the
minutest details, revealed the hand of those reckless builders who
thought to raise “a city and a tower whose top should reach unto the
heavens;” beholding what they achieved, one hardly wonders at what they
designed. They have, indeed, made themselves “a name upon the earth,”
which the storms of thirty centuries have failed to obliterate. The
enormous pile, surviving the fall of thrones, and the extinction of
races, still rears its countless columns, erect as cedars, and
immoveable as rocks. Unincumbered by the heaps of fragments which entomb
the fair proportions of other ancient works of art, it stands up in
massive nakedness, invulnerable to the attacks of weather or the
encroachments of time.
The propylon, which is almost perfect, is covered with masterly
sculpture, depicting a triumph of Rameses, who, is represented by a
gigantic figure, at least thirty feet high. His hand grasps a club, with
which he is in the act of smiting a number of comparatively pigmy
captives, whose stature does not exceed six feet, and whom he holds up
by their hair. His queen Amnure looks on with admiration, strangely
blended with queenly dignity and repose. The effect of the whole is
singularly grand.
The propylon is exactly opposite the temple of Karnac, on the other side
of the river; and an avenue of sphinxes, leads from each edifice to the
water’s edge, but whether they were connected by a bridge or a ferry, no
fragment remains to declare. From the propylon we passed to a large
chamber, enclosed by peculiarly light and graceful columns, the capitals
of which, still in their prime, are ornamented with rich paintings, in
red, green, and other bright colours, as fresh as though they were of
yesterday’s creation. Close by is a prodigious block of grey granite,
which, on nearer inspection, proved to be a portion of the celebrated
statue of Memnon. Its dimensions may be conceived from our knowledge of
its weight, which has been computed at 887 tons. It was hewn in one
piece out of the rocks of Assouan; but how it could have been removed to
this place, a distance of so many miles, is one of the mysteries of
ancient science. The monster idol was represented sitting on his throne,
his hands resting on his knees, and his face and posture impressed with
majestic repose. Every morning, if we are to believe the testimony of
certain chronicles, he greeted with a melodious welcome the rising sun,
and at night lamented his setting, giving utterance to a sound full of
melancholy sadness. Age followed age—the boundaries of nations were
changed—empires past away—still this Colossus was firmly seated on a
throne that appeared likely to last out the world. At length, it was
overthrown by Cambyses, the Eastern Attila, and only the upper part of
the statue now remains. This, however, sufficiently attests its once
colossal proportions, and it seems likely to outlast many a modern
monument.[2]
The temple of Memnon, though in a state of exquisite preservation, was
much larger than its present appearance suggests. Two only of its nine
chambers now exist. A centre circle of columns, which marks another
precinct, is still standing, and the earth is strewn with the fragments
of the massive roof, gleaming with stars on a ground of deep blue.
The sun was sinking behind the hills, before we could tear ourselves
away, to finish, if possible, in one day our hurried inspection of the
left bank of the river. Galloping along the stony ground between the
Memnonium and Medeenah Haboo, we passed by the Sphinxes—which the
receding waters prevented us from approaching very close.
We gazed in wonder down the line, mutilated and deranged thought it was,
remarking the solemn and majestic features, bearing the impress of their
mystic character; and even where the face was broken, we could trace the
same expression of thoughtfulness and sorrow. In strange contrast with
these wondrous ruins, hundreds of paddy-birds, the loveliest birds of
Egypt, were stalking about, displaying their brilliant plumage in all
its beauty, and hovering round the fallen temple like the birds which
Jupiter called from Memnon’s funeral pile, when it flamed on the plains
of Troy.
We soon reached Medeenah Haboo, which is almost buried by the modern
buildings that surround it. After scrambling over heaps of crude bricks
and mud walls, we at last gained entrance to one of the largest and most
interesting of the Egyptian monuments. It consists of the usual propylon
and several chambers beyond, one of which is more than one hundred and
twenty feet square.
This spacious area was once encompassed by two rows of pillars,
measuring in circumference almost as much as in height; many of them
still stand erect. In the midst are the remains of an early Christian
church, the unpretending dimensions of which contrast strongly with the
vastness and solemn grandeur of the surrounding structures. But the
church is characteristic of the faith that was taught within its walls:
that had its origin in simplicity, modesty and humility. It was left for
later times to make the worship greater than the God, and the temple a
grand accessory in establishing the deification of the priest.
While strolling through the chambers, some Arabs, with a great show of
secrecy (the sale of ancient reliques being prohibited by the
Government), offered us a number of rings, scarabæi, and other
antiquarian treasures, which, however, our dragoman, Daireh, pronounced
to be “no original, all home manufacture,” and there was no denying that
they wore a very Brummagem look. We procured some, however, of a less
questionable character, among which was a mummy hand—the hand of a young
girl, looking painfully perfect, though dug up, we learnt, only a few
days previously from its tomb of three thousand years. What if it were
the hand of a Pharoah’s daughter—perhaps a sister of Thermeuthis, who
looked on when the favoured child, the future lawgiver of Judah, was
rescued from his ark on the Nile! It may, in its day, have a crowd of
suitors, and power to interpose between life and death; now—none so poor
to do it reverence!
We left the temple just in time to see the sun sink behind the hills,
leaving his last beams on their craggy points, and casting a gleam of
light far beyond, on the hoary walls of Karnac and Luxor. In a few
minutes more, the Union-Jack, which floated proudly over our boats, was
hauled down, and the shadows of evening began to creep over the plain.
We had no time to lose, and therefore started at once for the anchorage.
On our way, we were overtaken by two Bedouins, mounted on camels, which
bore them quickly past. As we were now shortly to adopt the same mode of
transit, when we should commence the passage of the desert, our eyes
followed them, as they rode on, with the greatest interest; but their
forms gradually grew more and more shadowy, and, before long, were lost
in darkness.
CHAPTER X.
Karnac and Luxor.
A brilliant Egyptian morning succeeded our visit to the left bank of the
river, and found our boats moored, pursuant to a plan previously
arranged, under the opposite shore, close to the frowning ruins of
Luxor. A fresh breeze came cheerily up the stream, as if to tempt us
onward; but not the sweet south, stealing o’er a bank of violets, could
that day have lured us from Thebes. The sky was cloudless, as it ever is
here, for in Egypt at this season there are neither clouds nor rain.
Indeed the fertilizing shower so precious in other regions, is not
required in such a region as this, where art irrigates the thirsty soil
with its thousands of sluices, drawn from the inexhaustible Nile. In
Egypt all is the Nile.
Our two captains would gladly have prevailed upon us to take advantage
of the fair wind, and push forward; deferring the inspection of the
remaining section of Thebes for our way down—an arrangement frequently
made by travellers, though it leaves too much to be done—almost a
surfeit of temples and tombs in a very limited period, while the
curiosity is tantalized during the first part of the voyage. At the same
time, progress, when there is a favourable breeze, is only too agreeable
to the crews, who abhor the labour of tracking, and like to take
advantage of the wind when it blows. The dragoman, equally eager to
proceed, lends his powerful aid to the conspiracy, and the traveller
usually yields. In our case, however, all pleaded in vain, happily as on
our return we did not even land, and it was determined to devote the day
to Thebes.
We soon completed our equipment, which included the very important item
of water, secreted from light and heat in a capacious “goolah,”—a kind
of bottle, made of undressed clay, in which, when wrapt round with a wet
towel, let the sun blaze as it may, the water lies as cool and as fresh
as in a well. All travellers, particularly if they meditate a journey
beyond Wady Halfa, should provide themselves with a good supply of these
bottles at Keneh, where they are made, as it is impossible to procure
them afterwards, and the want of them would be severely felt. We found
ours invaluable and in the desert they were a never-failing spring,
yielding us delicious draughts of cool and sweet water, during a
scorching torrid heat, under which we must have sunk but for such aid.
So useful had they been, that when we learnt, towards the end of our
southward journey, that our last goolah was broken, we felt as though we
had lost a friend, and it was long before we could bring ourselves to
endure the warm and nauseous water which swung in leather bottles at our
saddle-bows.
Daireh wiled away the time, as we proceeded, with reminiscences of his
former visits to Thebes; and we were much amused by his anecdotes of
gentlemen sallying forth, like knights-errant, armed with dagger and
pistol, in search of adventures for their journals, and finding none. In
fact, Egypt under Abbas Pasha, has become so provokingly quiet, that a
second Don Quixote might traverse the whole country without finding
occasions for the display of his valour.
We deferred visiting Luxor till our return, and galloping through some
fields of wild grass, came out on a wide tract savouring more of the
neighbourhood of Birmingham than of Thebes. This is the site of a large
powder manufactory; we found whole acres covered with heaps of charcoal,
while a number of Arabs, whose dark skins were perfectly coated with
grime, moved to and fro like so many demons. A powder manufactory on the
sight of ancient Thebes, overlooked by the propylon of Karnac! The
sublime and matter-of-fact in singularly close conjunction. But such are
the metamorphoses of Time. In some future age perhaps, the gunpowder
manufactory may give place to a Club for the use of the Peace Congress.
Clearing this Cimmerian waste, we arrived at Karnac, the grandest and
most renowned ruin of Egypt. It is approached through an avenue of
sphinxes, of which nothing remains but the mutilated bodies, half
embedded in sand. This leads to a triumphal arch of extreme beauty,
covered with hieroglyphics and sculpture, in many parts still fresh and
perfect. Beyond is a wide tract of ruin, heaped with blocks of time-worn
stone, of extraordinary magnitude, each weighing several tons; while,
here and there, a few columns stand up, transformed from decorations of
a populous city, to be monuments of a deserted sepulchre. Hence the
spectator, passes to “the grand hall of the temple,”—a noble area,
surrounded by a forest of columns, rising to the height of eighty feet.
Right and left, at each point of the compass, the eye is carried down
vistas of pillars, uniform in height and girth, and differing only in
the quaint and grotesque capital. Occasionally the order is broken by a
column half impending, but held up by a monster block, which attaches it
by its weight to the roof. Many of the blocks composing this roof have
fallen, and through the apertures the eye comes on the clear blue sky,
that lights up the vivid colours immediately beneath, leaving only
gloomy shadows beyond. At the end rise up walls twenty-five feet in
thickness, from which colossal stones have fallen, forming a sort of
ascent almost to the roof. Here a boundless prospect is opened, and vast
ruins, now grouped in perfect order, now thrown in mighty heaps, rear
themselves on every side. There was something even touching in the
spectacle presented at intervals, of a solitary pillar, the last vestige
of a court or vestibule, standing up amidst mounds of prostrate and
crumbling fragments, while far in the distance rose two triumphal
arches, once entrances to the temple.
We stood in silence on the roof, and looked round in wonder and awe. We
felt that it was a time and place for reflection. It afforded us an
opportunity from the world of the Present to look back upon the world of
the Past—to contrast a period of the highest social elevation, and
intellectual development, with another marked by the most degraded
slavery and the most intense ignorance—a state of existence enjoying the
advantages of railway travelling, steam voyaging, and electric
communication, contrasted with one which wrapped every phase of life in
mystery, and shrouded all the better impulses of humanity in a darkness
more gloomy than that of the grave.
At length we tore ourselves from Karnac, and rode home by Luxor, which
is approached through a village of wretched hovels, branching off from
the magnificent obelisk presented by the Pasha to the English
government, is the companion to that erected in the Place de la
Concorde, at Paris. This obelisk is of red granite, hewn out of the
rocks of Assouan, and is covered with symbolic sculptures and
hieroglyphics. The propylon follows, opening on the temple, now so
completely perverted to modern purposes, that it furnishes a site and
materials for a mosque, which is reared against a part of its wall, and
rests its little weight on several of its columns. We found the place a
perfect hive of Arab children, mingling in happy harmony with sheep,
kids, and fowls; while howling dogs, mounted on every heap and wall,
kept up an incessant barking.
Beyond the mosque are many ancient chambers, and spacious areas, crowded
with lofty and colossal pillars, which open on a colonnade of great
beauty, formed of noble and very massive columns. This is the most
striking part of Luxor, and is peculiar, as no vestige of wall remains.
When the ground was unencumbered with rubbish, so grand a range of
pillars, extending over such a space, must have had a singularly
imposing effect from the Nile; but it is now intercepted by a mountain
of sand and fragments, choking up numerous chambers, and almost shutting
out the river. We had hardly time to scramble through all these marvels;
for the sun, our real cicerone, was fast sinking to a level with the
hill, and we were soon warned to withdraw.
At six we returned on board; the dozing crew, lying on the deck, wrapped
up in their coarse blankets, were aroused, and the boats were cast from
their moorings. ‘The Fanny’ swung slowly round the creek of Luxor; the
large sail was unloosed to the too eager breeze, and she darted off. As
‘The Eagle’ wore after her consort, we all assembled under her awning,
and turned our lingering eyes on the classic shore. The stupendous
obelisk of Luxor, and the propylon of Karnac, loomed up against the blue
sky, as the last gleam of sunlight crowned them with gold, and a solemn
hush seemed to fall on the scene. The Union-jack was hauled slowly down,
and ‘The Fanny,’ obedient to the concerted signal, struck her flag at
the same moment. The sun had set!
CHAPTER XI.
Esneh — Dancing girls — Mehemet Ali — Summary justice — The mountain of
the Chain — Angling in the Nile — A battle with the natives.
Our dragoman, Daireh, had made a solemn prediction, that the favourable
breeze, which lasted all the time we lingered at Thebes, would, on the
morrow, entirely die away; and though modern prophesies are seldom
realized, the result proved him a complete Murphy. For two days we were
becalmed, and with our utmost efforts, could only accomplish ten miles.
But the morning of the third brought out Æolus once more, and the huge
sail swelled to the wind, and bore us rapidly on. Gradually the breeze
increased, and the water became quite troubled, making the motion
extremely disagreeable. This lasted till three o’clock, when we arrived
at Esneh, distant from Thebes between fifty and sixty miles; here we
anchored, being under an engagement to remain twenty-four hours, that
our crews might bake a fresh supply of bread.
Esneh is, in point of size, a town of some importance, but has little
else to recommend it. It is the Egyptian Botany Bay,—all loose and
depraved characters being sent there from Cairo. We had a glimpse of the
staple of the population in some dancing-girls, who, immediately on our
arrival, came down to the shore, and danced for some time before our
boat. The performance was anything but graceful, and by no means
delicate. All the time it lasted, these Eastern Undines kept up an
incessant cry for baksheesh, making our ears ring with their voices; and
certainly, if a douceur could ever be turned to account, baksheesh would
have been well bestowed in getting rid of them.
Soon afterwards we had a visit from a person of a different stamp, but
who was scarcely less importunate. This was an officer in the service of
the Governor, who, with as little ceremony as can well be imagined,
quietly ensconced himself in our cabin, and seemed determined on
retaining possession. He was very inquisitive, asking questions with
American avidity, and took a strange fancy, which he by no means strove
to conceal, to everything his eye fell upon. One moment he wished to be
presented with our rifles; the next, he begged hard for the inkstand;
and what was more amusing, refusal made not the least impression upon
him. It was with some difficulty that, after repeated efforts, we got
rid of him, at last, with the help of some cigars and a little wine.
The people on shore were at the same pitch of barbarism; on going over
the town, we were mobbed in every street, while swarms of children, who
followed in the background, cheered us in the most vehement manner. This
did not prevent our visiting the various places of resort, and I had the
satisfaction of hunting out a temple, which almost escapes the notice of
travellers, and is not mentioned in the guide-books with sufficient
praise. It is approached from the bazaar, on emerging from which it
presents itself. Thirty-six lofty and massive columns, with capitals of
distinct orders, support the roof, which is entire, and in beautiful
preservation. Three of the sides, embellished with hieroglyphics, both
indented and in relief, are also standing; and, having been cleaned by
Mehemet Ali, look amazingly fresh. The columns are extremely grand, and
are untainted by the grotesque. Antiquaries, fix the date of the
structure at about A.D. 20, which would make it of Roman origin; and
from the unique character and beauty of the architecture, superior to
anything we had yet seen, we were inclined to concur in their verdict.
Esneh also boasts a royal palace, which, as one of the retreats of the
renowned Mehemet Ali, we could not leave unvisited. It is a quiet little
villa, furnished with innumerable divans, and painted and decorated in
the usual manner. In one of the rooms we found a handsome French
bedstead, which seemed strangely out of place, the rest of the furniture
being so essentially Oriental. The grounds, though not extensive, are
laid out in good taste, and include a tolerable kitchen-garden. In the
time of Mehemet Ali, they were kept in admirable order, though on one
occasion, arriving unexpectedly, the great Pasha found they had been
neglected, and sending for the Governor of Esneh, admonished him to take
care this did not occur again, giving him two hundred lashes with the
bastinado to impress it on his memory. The lesson had its effect, and
there never was any further cause for complaint.
We were much concerned, in our way through the town, to observe the
numbers of men who had maimed or mutilated themselves to escape the
hateful yoke of the conscription. So great is the repugnance to this
cruel servitude, that in Esneh there is scarcely one man in five,
between the ages of twenty and fifty, who has not been hideously
disfigured by his own hand. Some have deprived themselves of an eye;
others have torn out their teeth; and several, more desperate, have
chopped off their fingers, or their good right hand. Such are the
horrors of Eastern despotism!
It was nearly five o’clock before we could get away from Esneh, when the
wind, which had been pretty steady hitherto, began to fall, and our
progress became slow. On the two following days we had a succession of
little breezes, carrying us on a few miles, and then dying away. The
second evening brought us to Gebel-Silsilus, or the Mountain of the
Chain, where, according to Arab authorities, one of the ancient kings
fixed a chain across the river, and exacted toll of all vessels passing
beneath. Here we went on shore, and climbing a lofty hill, obtained a
commanding view of the desert, which stretched far away on either side,
while the Nile, girded with a narrow strip of vegetation, growing every
moment “beautifully less,” lay stretched out below. The desert was not
the boundless, unbroken plain of sand of our home traditions; and ridge
upon ridge of towering hills met our eyes, following at intervals upon
each other, nearly all crowned with the tomb of a Sheik, which in the
distance formed a most picturesque object. There was one of these rude
memorials on the hill where we stood; and a few of our sailors, who had
followed us up from the boat, deposited some five para-pieces in its
centre heap, as an offering to the mouldering bones beneath.
While our boats were at anchor, we made some experiments in fishing, and
not without a degree of success. First we hooked up a turtle, eighteen
inches long, and weighing twelve lbs., which our ingenious Abbas very
soon converted into capital soup. Our next prize was a more startling
one, though no great delicacy, being nothing less than an alligator-
lizard, about four feet long, supposed by the ignorant natives to be the
product of an addled crocodile’s egg. We preserved its skin as a trophy.
These tranquil occupations were interrupted by a dire uproar, such as
would have disturbed the serenity even of Izaak Walton. Our two crews,
like all Arabs, had very imperfect perceptions of _meum_ and _tuum_, and
in this respect, were aptly described by the dragoman as “very rascal
people.” It was their constant practice, whenever an opportunity
presented itself, to carry off from the shore every fragment of wood
they could lay their hands on, wholly regardless as to who was the
lawful owner; and on the present occasion, being hard pushed for fire-
wood, and finding nothing portable, they had pounced upon a shadoof, at
that moment actually in operation, and brought it bodily off. This
outrage aroused the indignation of some labourers, by whom it had been
observed, and they collected on the shore, demanding restitution. Our
men, however, were in no mood for it—stripping to the waist, they
snatched their sticks from the boat, and announced their determination
to retain their spoil. On this, the enraged labourers set up a yell,
that would have done honour to Tipperary, at the same time throwing
handfuls of dust in the air, which, I presume, is the Egyptian mode of
declaring war, being invariably followed by an onslaught. The tocsin
sounded by their voices elicited a prompt response; and from every
quarter—
“On right, on left, above, below,
Sprang up at once the lurking foe.”
At least fifty half-naked savages came rushing down, armed with
murderous-looking clubs, and not a few with spears, while one gaunt
fellow, a very Ramesis in stature, ostentatiously brandished a sword.
They made a desperate attempt to board the boat, but were driven off,
when the fight was continued in a cotton-field, the owner of which, a
poor, inoffensive old man, had his arm broken in the _mêlée_. At length,
the enemy gave way, though not till we had lost a tarboosh, belonging to
one of the crew, that was displayed as a trophy by its captor, who,
however, made an overture for the suspension of hostilities. Orders had
already been given to restore the shadoof; and, now that a truce was
established, it was most amusing to see some of our men, who were
natives of this part of the country, recognizing brothers and kinsmen
among their antagonists, and kissing them in the most loving manner. To
render the spectacle more ludicrous, these fraternizing warriors
exhibited on their faces significant tokens of each other’s prowess. On
the whole, however, the casualties were slight. Our dragoman, who
greatly distinguished himself, received a blow in the height of the
combat, from one of his own comrades, which sprained his wrist; and our
two captains were both severely bruised. One had maintained, for some
time, an unequal contest with an Arab, armed with an axe, which he most
adroitly parried with a stick, though, with all his dexterity, it
frequently came much too near his head. But the occurrence, however
annoying in some respects, taught all a lesson, and strict orders were
issued that no such provocation should be given again, and no more wood
stolen. Meanwhile, peace was re-established, and all but the crew and
two or three of their friends dispersed, leaving the shore deserted—
“It seemed as if their mother earth
Had swallowed up her warlike birth.”
A light wind brought us next morning to Assouan, after a passage of
twenty-seven days from Cairo—an average run, the range of passages being
from twenty-one days to thirty-one.
CHAPTER XII.
Assouan — The treaty with the Reis — The quarries — The Persian invasion
— Caravan of slaves — Hunting for jackals — Daireh’s love story.
The approach to Assouan is through a scene singularly beautiful. The
river, sweeping abruptly round, opens into a kind of bay, shut in by the
picturesque island of Elephantina, and terminated by high, bold rocks,
looking like the boundaries of a lake. Assouan lies, like a nest, under
towering crags, crowned with ruins, the remains of a town of importance,
and is itself a village of some pretensions. It is on the left bank of
the river, here much contracted, entering upon a region of a totally
different character. The prospect from the heights is of great extent,
and surpassing interest, including a wide sweep of Egypt and
Nubia—countries most distinct in their features—and a noble expanse of
wood and water, hill and lowland, in the midst of which lie the lovely
shades of Elephantina.
We had arranged to receive our letters at Assouan; and after being so
long without intelligence from home, and a full month having elapsed
since we had even seen a European face, we were most impatient to
ascertain what awaited us. We were soon on our way to the Post-office,
where the postmaster, a fine old Arab, received us very courteously, and
produced two budgets of letters and a copy of the “Times,” for which we
paid the not unreasonable charge of six shillings and sixpence. These
treasures had been brought from Cairo overland, by pedestrian
messengers, called runners, who relieved one another at stated
distances; and the packets had been fingered by every Pasha and Bey of
the various towns on the route. The “Times” was a month old, but quite
fresh to us; even the advertisements were devoured, and proved tolerably
digestible.
Assouan is the porch to the first cataract of the Nile; and our news
from England was scarcely discussed, when the cataract authorities, ever
alive to business, paid us a visit, and set to work to get as high a
price as possible for carrying us over. One would have supposed,
however, from the tenor of their conversation, that such a project was
the very furthest from their thoughts, and it was long before they could
be entrapped into the most remote allusion to it. Daireh predicted that
the negotiation would last three days; but we were determined, if our
united tact could accomplish it, to finish all at one sitting. Pipes and
coffee were introduced, and the most alluring hints thrown out; but the
Reis of the cataract, who saw a trap in every word, would speak of
anything but what he had come about. At length, he remarked, with great
gravity and decision, that it was quite out of the question to think of
taking our boat up, as it was too large, and could not possibly be got
over. Hereupon the bargaining commenced, and after a contest of two
hours’ duration, it was definitively settled that we should be taken up
the cataract on the morrow, and let down on our return, for the sum of
£7, being £3 10_s._ for each boat.
While the various articles of this important treaty were being
discussed, a crowd collected in front of the boats on shore, gradually
increasing to several hundreds, and giving great animation to the scene.
Some had friends among our crews, a few of whom, as old hands, had
ascended the cataract again and again; and these kept up a dialogue of
the most sprightly character. Others were connected with the Reis of the
cataract, or felt interested in the negotiation; and many were venders
of articles of _vertu_, as it is understood here, embracing in their
stock an assortment of spears and clubs, ostrich eggs and feathers, and
some genuine modern antiquities, among which I noticed the blade of a
knife, marked with the hieroglyphics of Rogers & Co. But as soon as the
contract was settled, the Reis took his departure, and the crowd
dispersed.
In the afternoon, when the heat of the day had subsided, we rode out to
the quarries of red granite and sienite, which are a short distance from
the village, on the other side of the Nile. The excavations are on a
scale commensurate with the vast works they were destined to construct,
and the rocks have been hewn out as easily as if they had been clay. The
wedge, which seems to have been used from the earliest ages, was the
great power in requisition for such service. When the block was marked
out by wedges, water was poured in, which, causing the wood to swell,
the rock burst asunder, and gave forth material for a column, or a god.
The shattered heights are covered with rude inscriptions, referring to
blocks cut out, and some commemorating victories of the ancient
Pharoahs, by whose command the excavations were made. All seems as if it
were the creation of yesterday; as if the artificers, called off by some
emergency, had but just left their mighty labour. Even the traces of the
wooden wedges are still apparent in the rocks; and the obelisk which was
hewn out for removal, but in consequence of some flaw not taken away,
still stands where it was left by the workmen. The excavations are said
to have been arrested by the Persian Conquest, which, at the same time,
overthrew the proud temples they had helped to raise, and heaped the
country with ruins. It would almost seem, on glancing round, that the
same imperious hand had diverted the natural course of the river, as a
strip of desert lies between the quarries and the high ground near the
water, strewn with enormous boulders, looking as though they had but
just been washed from the heights by some resistless torrent, while the
Nile forces a passage over rocks beyond, forming the first cataract. But
this may appear an idle speculation, and standing here, only one problem
presents itself—how such stupendous blocks, cut in one mass from the
quarries, could be removed to such a distance as Thebes? The exact means
of transit indeed must ever remain a mystery, but it seems certain that
they were conveyed by land; and Herodotus, who took infinite pains to
arrive at the truth, mentions that two thousand men were employed three
years in transporting one block to its destination.
It was with some reluctance that we turned from these strange diggings,
and retraced our steps to the boats. On our way we descried a covey of
partridges, the first we had yet seen, but which proved the harbingers
of many others. Fortune, however, delights in cross-purposes, and it so
happened that this was the only time we had come on shore without our
guns, being utterly weary of carrying fire-arms for no purpose. But we
had now a prospect before us, and for the future went prepared.
Just before reaching the boats, we came upon a large party of female
slaves, on their way down to Cairo, where, in the lottery of the slave-
market, they were to pass to new masters. They were penned like sheep in
a range of little huts, formed by hanging matting round a clump of palm
trees, which spread their grateful shade above. It was most amusing, as
we drew near, to see the rush they made to gain cover, and how they
ducked their heads under the matting, to avoid being seen, though
curiosity, the weak point of the sex, brought up again many a pair of
bright eyes, to look at us as we passed. They were nearly all young
girls, varying in age from twelve to sixteen; and a merrier set could
not be met with. The woods rang with their pleasant laughter; and one
might have thought—what perhaps was not very far from the truth—that in
place of now entering the house of bondage, they had left it behind in
their own country. Their masters, from all we could learn, are uniformly
kind to them; and whenever we encountered a party, we found that the
girls were much attached to the head of their caravan. The bevy we now
saw was from Abyssinia—whence, indeed, most of the female slaves of
Egypt are drawn—and was destined, as the Abyssinian girls usually are,
for the Turkish hareems, or as wives of shop-keepers and affluent Arabs.
Their colour was a glossy black; they were exceedingly well made, and
had bright cheerful faces, lit up by sparkling black eyes. They all
seemed very shy, and could not be induced to come out of their huts, or
even to let us approach them. There was but one who showed more
confidence, a very fine young woman, apparently about twenty-five years
of age, who brought out her baby, a most beautiful child, almost a
Murillo in colour, and exquisitely formed. We offered to purchase it,
but, though she seemed flattered, the mother’s heart clung to her child,
and she could not be tempted to part with it. We gave her some money for
grease, which had an immediate effect on her spirits, and then left her,
the envy of the whole sisterhood.
In the evening we went out with our guns, and accompanied by a guide, in
quest of jackals, which he undertook to find for us. It was quite dark,
and we walked silently along, in Indian file, over the hill, keeping
both eye and ear on the alert, and our guns ready for service. We soon
discovered traces of the enemy, and heard his wailing cry, but this was
the limit of our success. The moon rising, rendered it light as day; and
though our companion, putting a good face on the matter, was still
profuse in promises, it required no long time to convince us that there
was but little chance of our obtaining any sport. The pursuit, however,
had not been unattended with excitement, and we were amply compensated
for our walk by the brilliant landscape, which, in that mystic light,
surpassed anything that could be imagined.
Returning on board, we found that the crew had retired, and all was made
snug for the night. Daireh, our dragoman, was lying on his rug at the
cabin-door, his usual resting-place, and was half asleep; but quickly
aroused himself, and in another moment was seen smoking. The two
watchers were amusing each other by recounting the Arabian Nights; and
Daireh, between the long puffs of his pipe, translated one story,
recording the eventful fortunes of the prince who was carried off from
Damascus in his drawers, in the dead hour of the night. From this, being
in a communicative mood, he turned to some incidents of his own life,
and then related how he first fell in love, and with what result,
expressing himself with indescribable delicacy and feeling.
Poor Daireh, it should seem, was attending a traveller in the Syrian
desert, when they encountered a large caravan of slaves, one of whom, a
lovely young girl, who had seen some fifteen summers, won the dragoman’s
heart. He described her as very fair, with beautiful soft eyes, like a
gazelle’s, and raven hair, and as having a light, ringing laugh, which
struck on his ear like music. All at once, Daireh discovered that he
should be very lonely when he returned home, and he mentioned the
subject to his master, who, with the sagacity of Achitophel, recommended
marriage. Accordingly, Daireh, only too eager, went to the head of the
caravan, and bought the girl for fifteen pounds, on which, with a
delicacy very foreign to the usages of his country, he asked her to
marry him, at the same time telling her that she was perfectly free, and
could act as her own choice directed. Even if she could, under such
circumstances, have hesitated, a tempting promise of the dresses and
delicate food, with which Daireh adroitly backed his offer, was
irresistible, and the fair enslaver gave a glad consent. They were
married at Beyrout, and thence proceeded to Cairo, where, having a
competent income, they lived very happily for two years, in the course
of which Daireh was presented with a very fine boy, on whom both he and
the fond mother centred all their hopes. Now came the blight on the
honest dragoman’s life. The child sickened and died!
It was most touching to hear the poor fellow describe, in his mournful
tones, how he had tried to console and support his wife under their sad
bereavement. Like all the women of the East, she had a passion for
dress, and he thought to win her from her sorrow by costly presents; but
the time was gone when, in the freedom of a happy heart, such things
could bring light to her eye, or a smile to her lip. Her tears still
flowed, and the world, which had just before been so full of promise,
had for her lost all its charms. Her heart was weary and heavy-laden,
and pined for that last resting-place, which held in its cold embrace
her buried treasure. On the third day the poor mourner died.
Such was Daireh’s tale, evincing a tenderness and a flow of sentiment
which seemed quite incongruous in one of his race and caste. Who, under
so rugged an exterior, would have looked for the pearl of genuine love,
or the cherished memories of a secret sorrow? But nature asserts her
sway under every peculiarity; and savage indeed is the bosom that is not
moved in some way by the impulses of human kindness!
I could offer him no consolation, when he had finished his story, though
I felt, without a word being said, that his emotion was all the more
painful for being repressed. Perhaps the unwonted stillness, and the
solemn repose of the surrounding scene, resplendent with almost
unearthly light, were more in unison with his feelings, and exercised
over him both a soothing and consoling influence. He finished his pipe
in silence, when I bade him good night, and left him to his reflections.
CHAPTER XIII.
Philæ.
Eight o’clock on the following morning brought us the various
authorities of the cataract, eager to secure their prize; and we
instantly set sail, beating up the river with a fair wind, without which
it would have been impossible to force our way against the current. The
Nile, hitherto as broad as an estuary, is here very narrow, and strewn
with islands and shoals. The richly-cultivated banks, the groves of palm
and date trees, the busy shadoofs, and the troops of husbandmen, giving
such animation to the scene, have vanished; and in their place, we now
see a wild and desolate shore, choked with sand-banks, over which frown
high precipitous rocks. Though attended with danger, the passage was
full of novelty, which made it agreeable and nature appeared more
striking in her naked grandeur and simplicity. Perhaps a sense of peril
was not without effect on the crew; I never, during our stay in Egypt,
knew Arabs so quiet, and never saw them so active and prompt.
At every turn, there was something to excite new caution; and the river,
opening like a lake, wound its way through banks and rocks, where the
least oversight would have led to the most disastrous consequences. In
these intricate channels the steering was inimitable, and showed a
thorough mastery of the navigation. The water, usually so smooth and
gentle, had become a rapid, and in mid-channel dashed along like a
torrent; but our boats pushed on, and stemmed it bravely. Once only a
fall of about two feet impeded their progress, but the Sheik, with
surprising alertness, immediately sprang overboard, and with a rope over
his neck, made his way through the current to a small rock, round which
he fastened the rope, and then pulled us on. In two hours a sweep in the
river opened the view to some distance, and we came in sight of the
cataract, pouring down its volume of water in a sheet of foam, which
sparkled in the sun like light. We now drew on one side, and anchored
under the lee of an island, whose eastern shore, girded by bold and
rugged rocks, forms one of the barriers of the cataract.
At this place we expected, according to our agreement with the Sheik, to
find a number of natives assembled, for the purpose of dragging us up
the falls; but, of course, not a solitary individual could be seen. The
Sheik, who was one of the coolest fellows imaginable, understood all
this, and very deliberately went on shore, loaded with the imprecations
of the crew, to enlist the men whom he had promised to have awaiting us
on the spot. We found, therefore, that grumbling would have no effect,
and that we must be content to remain stationary for the next twenty-
four hours, as there was not the least chance of our being able to
proceed earlier.
The scenery was such as might have reconciled us to a longer sojourn,
and the eye was never weary of its attractions, glancing from the whirl
of waters, as they dashed over the fall, to the abutting rocks, which
reared their flinty summits in a thousand fantastic shapes, or at the
little islands further down, rising from the rapid waves through a
framework of lupins and beans, with their gay blossoms washed by the
stream. But we were impatient to visit a spot, pre-eminent even here for
its beauty and renown. Philæ, was only a short distance above the
cataract, and we determined to spend the day in an excursion to its
shores.
Our two jolly-boats were hoisted over the cataract in a quiet way, with
the greatest facility, and now awaited us just beyond. We walked round,
and on reaching the rendezvous, were surprised to find that,
notwithstanding our unobtrusive movements, a crowd had assembled to see
us set off. There were the usual venders of antiquities and ostrich
eggs, and all the idlers the neighbourhood could furnish. Some, who
could devise no other means of laying us under contribution, proposed to
swim across the river, at the point where the current was most violent,
for the smallest consideration imaginable; and it was with difficulty we
escaped from their overtures. No feat they could perform in the water
would have excited our astonishment, being aware, from what we had seen
on our way up, that habit had made it almost their element. As we shoved
off, we saw a woman ferrying herself over on a plank, which she moved
along by paddling her feet, at the same time bearing an enormous load of
grass on her head. It was amazing to see how composedly she sat, while
piloting herself among the rocks and reefs, and supporting such a heavy
weight.
The river here opens into innumerable little creeks and channels,
flanked by rocks, which assume at a distance the appearance of temples,
and on coming nearer, are found to impend over the water in the most
singular manner, as if the slightest touch would hurl them down. Through
this romantic avenue the traveller obtains his first glimpse of Philæ,
which rises up out of the deep-blue of the Nile, its whole front covered
by the temple, the chaste columns and granite walls of which are
overshadowed by trees.
On either side, the main land is embanked by mighty boulders, piled up
with such a show of art, and so much precision, it is difficult to
believe that they have been thrown there by the hand of Nature.
One immense heap surprized us greatly. It was by far the highest, and
rose at the summit in the form of a triangle—one half abutting from a
huge mass below, hung in mid-air, while the boulder on which it thus
partially rested appeared also to be suspended. We could not resist the
temptation to climb these dangerous heights; looked down from their
grotesque peaks on the fairy island below, which, Narcissus like, seemed
to be contemplating its image, so faithfully mirrored in the bright,
clear waters.
Philæ undoubtedly owes much to its position, which combines with its
peculiar attractions, to render it the most beautiful island in the
world. It is belted round with a quay, though the work of very early
times, some still in good condition; and where the stones have mouldered
away, or fallen, some ministering hand has planted lupins, which clothe
the whole place with verdure. The island seems to have formed one vast
temple, and its crumbling ruins, spread over its surface, still retain
an appearance of order, and of completeness, strange even in Egypt. We
landed at some broken stairs, and made our way through a court-yard,
heaped with fallen pillars, to a spacious hall, decorated with
paintings, in red, yellow, green and blue, brighter and fresher than any
we had yet seen. The ground was carpeted with grass; moss and wild
flowers sprang from the ancient stones; and, here and there, a tall
palm-tree threw its shadow on the wall, or a mimosa drooped gracefully
over a broken column. Thence we wandered away into the dark chambers,
which the light of day had never entered. There are a great number of
these rooms, and it is impossible to conjecture the purpose they were
devoted to. Perhaps here were solemnized, under a veil of darkness,
rites which outraged every feeling of humanity; or mysteries which
masked, in idolatrous myths, the principles of true religion. Here the
candidate for the priesthood may have been taught the duties of his
office; here the sacrifice may have been prepared and adorned for the
altar. The long range of chambers once probably resounded with midnight
orgies, and bacchanalian shouts; or, which seems more probable, may have
been the prison of groaning captives, destined as a propitiation to
Moloch.
From these mysterious precincts we passed to a propylon, and then,
through a noble porch, into a large open court, once enclosed by double
rows of columns, most of which still remain. It was no doubt in this
area that the laity congregated, previously to entering the temple to
worship. Some authorities have asserted that, on certain great days, the
priests assembled here to prophesy, and even to display their erudition
to the people.
A massive staircase, constructed in the thickness of the wall, brought
us to a platform above, where we came on a beautiful little temple,
standing quite alone, on the verge of the quay, which commanded a
magnificent prospect of the river. The columns, that run along the whole
front, are surmounted by square blocks, instead of the usual elaborate
capitals, and have a very striking effect. The island here expanded
before us like a map, showing all its picturesque features at a glance;
and, with one consent, we instantly fixed upon it as our most eligible
resting-place.
In sauntering through the ruins, we fell upon some amusing and even
ludicrous inscriptions. By one it appeared that, in those olden times,
Philæ was a favourite haunt of the Egyptian nobility; who, however, with
an eye to economy worthy of more modern days, expected, on visiting this
sacred retreat, to be feasted and lodged at the expense of the
priesthood. The consequence of this custom was, that the priests were
impoverished, and the temple left unprovided; at last the former, losing
all patience, made a representation of the circumstances to the King.
The petition is duly set forth on the stone; and above, couched in the
same magniloquent phrases, is the King’s answer, which prohibits the
nobility for the time to come victimizing these holy men.
In strange conjunction with these venerable memorials, stand
inscriptions by the travellers of to-day, usurping equal prominence on
the time-honoured walls. All who are interested in the sentiments of a
tourist named Smith, who lately visited the ruins, may find his
impressions of the place legibly recorded, with his classic and unique
name written in full, below. A long list of other names, with kindred
pretensions to renown, are paraded on the adjoining wall, in letters of
fearful length, and the traveller has the satisfaction of ascertaining
that he has been preceded in his visit by divers representatives of the
Thompsons and the Browns. To impress this more indelibly on his memory,
the fact is emblazoned on fragments which even the ruthless hand of Time
has scrupled to touch, that retain the perfect beauty and even the
bright fresh colours with which they were originally decorated.
Our boatmen, indifferent alike to the beauties of nature and the wonders
of art, had become impatient at our long stay, and at length we
gratified them by returning. They pulled along most vigorously, and soon
reached the landing-place, where we scrambled ashore, and made our way
round the cataract to our vessels.
CHAPTER XIV.
The first Cataract of the Nile.
The cataract is an incline of about one hundred feet in length, and
eight or ten feet in depth. The river narrowing just above, precipitates
its immense volume of water down this slope, with prodigious violence,
and with a noise like thunder. The rocks on either hand, washed by the
flood, make the picture more striking, and add to the difficulty and the
danger of the ascent.
Soon after breakfast, a very long and staunch rope was fastened round
the masts of ‘The Fanny,’ and then laid along the rocks as far as it
would go, to be pulled on a concerted signal; a shorter one was laid out
in the same way; and a third was fastened midships, and thrown ashore,
to keep the vessel, on her way up, close to the rocks, as the current
would otherwise drag her into the middle of the stream, when certain
destruction would ensue. This catastrophe nearly happened a few years
ago, when one of the Pasha’s boats got into the rapids, and his
Highness, who was on board, had a narrow escape of his life. From that
time, the greatest precautions have been taken to prevent any similar
occurrence.
Hundreds of people had now assembled on shore to witness the ascent; at
length the boats were manned, and the boat loosed from her moorings. The
cataract pilot seized the helm; the Reis, a fine, hale old man, gave the
word to proceed; and a hundred and thirty men on shore, and about thirty
on deck, hauled away at the ropes. The cataract came thundering down;
the air rang with the cries and shouts of the pullers; the water flew
past in foaming waves, dashing its clouds of spray over the deck; and
the gallant boat held on her way. In a moment more, she bounded against
the bottom; the rushing flood seemed to struggle for the mastery, making
her tremble in every plank. But instantly the old Reis darted overboard,
dived under her stern, and, with a desperate effort, shoved her on. Then
he sprang ashore, struck in among the lazy pullers, who were invoking
help from Allah, and laid about him right and left with a whip. Thus
driven, the men hauled away at the ropes, while those on bread, who
worked with great diligence, kept thrusting planks between the vessel
and the rocks, to prevent her grazing against them. Others ran
alongside, and every now and then plunged into the water, to shove her
off a sunken shoal, or over a shallow. Stronger and stronger became the
torrent; the waves beat more furiously against the boat; the spray and
the foam whirled over her; the roar grew more and more deafening; and
then, with one mighty lift—one lurch forward, she passed the fall, and
floated in smooth water.
The hauling-up occupied sixty-five minutes, though less than half the
number of English sailors would have accomplished it in half the time.
Indeed, ‘The Eagle,’ though a heavier boat, was hoisted up within the
fifty minutes, and moored alongside her consort.
A small island lay between the boats and the shore, and over this the
men brought all our stores and baggage, which, in order to lighten the
vessels, had been taken out below the cataract, and piled up on the
bank. It was really quite exciting to watch them coming across this
romantic spot, bearing every kind of burden, in regular succession, as
if the place were a haunt of pirates or smugglers collecting their
booty. This booty constituted a very miscellaneous assortment; but
barrels of flour and rice, bags of sugar, books and guns, formed, after
all, no bad supply of the munitions of war.
At noon our sails were again loosed, and expanding to the breeze, bore
us steadily on. After proceeding a short distance, we hove-to for a few
minutes, to land the Reis of the cataract, who, as the navigation was
somewhat difficult at first, came with us till we were perfectly clear
of all obstacles. I was much taken with this old man, whom Mr.
Warburton, in his widely-known work, has already introduced so
favourably to the English reader. Having a copy of ‘The Crescent and the
Cross’ at hand, I showed him his portrait, and made Daireh translate
what the Author has said of him, at which, as may be imagined, he was
much gratified. He remembered Mr. Warburton very well, and expressed a
hope that he would soon come to Egypt again, and pay him another visit.
We now entered the narrow channel that washes the banks of Philæ, and as
we sailed past, obtained a charming view of the island, which at
different points, broke upon us like a fresh scene. Then we came on the
wild and desert shores of Nubia, with their battlements and pinnacles of
rock, starting up in every diversity of height and form. At long
intervals, villages of wretched huts crown the heights, or straggle down
to the river; and a few palm-trees or acacias, instead of groves of date
trees, and plantations of the fragrant mimosa, throw a scanty shade
around. The people, too, have changed; and the hardy Nubian, with his
unveiled wife, and dark, chubby children, forms a striking contrast to
the effeminate Egyptian. A fine open countenance, lit up by expressive
eyes, with stalwart limbs, and magnificent proportions, express both his
character and his strength. The Nubians have the same reputation in
Egypt that has been won by the Swiss in Europe, and are distinguished
alike for honesty, courage, and sagacity. The women, tutored only by
nature, have a style and beauty peculiarly their own. Their little blue
dress, which but half veils their forms, is worn with an air almost
classic, and they possess in a high degree the grace of motion. This is
especially apparent in the young girls, whose only attire is a girdle of
leather, thickly hung with beads. The children abandon dress altogether,
though in presence of strangers, they go about very timidly, and can
hardly be tempted to closer acquaintance by any amount of biscuit. When
once their diffidence is overcome, however, they are extremely docile;
indeed, in their conduct, they might teach a lesson to the children of
the polite world. It is a pleasant sight to watch a troop of the little
urchins following their mother or sister from the well, playing merrily
about her, with shouts of mirth and ringing laughter, as she walks
thoughtfully along, bearing on her head a large jar of water, and
displaying in every movement a grace unstudied and unconscious.
CHAPTER XV.
Korosko — Shooting excursion — Crocodiles — Ipsamboul — Colossal statue.
Korosko, situated on the bend of the river, was the first Nubian village
we visited. It is merely a collection of huts, formed of mud walls,
covered in at the top with matting. There are no turreted pigeon-house
towers over the roof, as in the villages of Egypt, and there is an
absence of all attempt at ornament. The little hovels, however, are much
cleaner, and there is even an appearance of comfort about them, which is
never seen in Arab domiciles. As we stayed here all night, we saw a good
deal of the people, and were much prepossessed by their simplicity and
integrity. They possess many excellent characteristics; in short, they
present us with the Oriental character under one of its most agreeable
aspects. In personal appearance they differ from the Egyptians only in
colour, but their fine limbs have no covering, and a cloth round their
loins is all their dress. They wear their beard long, and reeking with
oil; and, like the Eastern nations of antiquity, have the nose hung with
a ring, generally of gold or silver. The women also wear these pendants,
both in the nose and ears.
A caravan had just arrived, which, with our boats, made the little
community quite busy, and brought every one out of doors, flocking to
the river, just in front of our anchorage: the scene, as evening came
on, was exceedingly animated and picturesque. The camel-drivers, a
rugged, unsophisticated race, were prominent figures in the crowd; from
them the eye turned on the patient and submissive camels, lying down by
their huge burdens, after their long march over the burning sand. The
drivers trafficked in ostrich feathers and eggs; and, to make friends
with them, we bought some of each, paying almost a London price for the
feathers; which, however, were very fine ones. They told us, among other
things, that we need be under no fear of wanting water in the desert, as
it had lately rained there, and this would insure a good supply. We
found they had been thirty days coming across from Khartoum, and had
suffered much from the heat.
At Korosko, we lost what, in our emigrant vessels, is called a stow-
away; a man, named Ali Suleiman, who had come on board at Cairo without
our knowledge, and obtained a passage to Nubia. After we started, he
well earned this indulgence by his assiduous attention and diligence,
and we had learnt to consider him an acquisition. He was a most devout
Mussulman; and, in accordance with the Prophet’s command, knelt five
times a-day in prayer. I have seen his fine form bending on the deck
under the glare of the noon-day sun; and frequently, when I have come
late on deck, have found him praying at midnight. He was still some
distance from his native village, which we should not reach till the
next day; but, impatient to arrive at home, he determined to walk on,
and was soon on his way.
We left Korosko ourselves early in the morning, and borne along by a
fine southerly breeze, the first we had had from that quarter since our
departure from Cairo, came to Dour by half-past three in the afternoon.
The shore, as usual, was crowded with persons awaiting our approach; and
foremost in the throng was honest Ali Suleiman, easily distinguished by
his flowing robe of white calico, and his yellow turban, drooping at the
end. He came to renew his thanks, and to present us an offering of
dates—a simple but gratifying tribute, rendered in the most graceful
manner.
Soon afterwards we went on shore, taking our guns, but there was little
shooting, except doves, of which we might have brought down any number.
As we proceeded we met a boy with a camelion, which he offered for sale,
and we were only too willing to become its purchasers. This, however,
was no easy matter, as its owner, like the robber-boy in the “Heart of
Midlothian,” who preferred the white siller to the more precious and
unknown gold, knew only one class of coin, and could not be brought to
appreciate any other. We offered him half a piastre, but he refused it,
demanding ten paras, about half the sum in copper; and it required our
last halfpenny to make up the amount. At length we concluded the
bargain, and carried off our camelion.
The day closed with a sunset of surpassing beauty, such as no language
could adequately describe, or any imagination conceive. The brilliant
red glow gradually softened away in a thousand varied tints, appearing
in the distance with new distinctness, in numberless bright reflections
like liquid flame. Then the gorgeous colouring blended with the first
shades of twilight, ushering in the dawn of Venus, followed by the
rising moon, in whose silver light, as it spread over the heavens, the
planet set. Beneath were the creeping shadows, the calm, placid waters,
and the silent and quiescent landscape, composing altogether a scene
bright enough to awaken inspiration.
[Illustration: INDEX MAP _TO_ KHARTOUM _AND_ THE NILES, _BY_ GEORGE
MELLY.
Becker’s Patent on Steel.
LONDON, COLBURN & Co., 1851.]
As we penetrated further, the country underwent a material change. Palm
trees, of which there had hitherto been but a sprinkle, increased in
number; and, no longer stripped of their upper leaves, assumed a
beautiful appearance. Doom trees, too, though not so numerous as in more
northern latitudes, started up here and there along the heights, and
attained great luxuriance. In the fields, durra and castor-oil plants,
the staple of Nubian vegetation, quite superseded the crops of cotton;
and lupins and beans grew in the mud on the banks. At intervals, the
ground was lying waste, too sterile and too stubborn to invite the
labour of the husbandman; here the banks were clothed with thorny
mimosas, over which, at every dozen yards, bright green creepers threw
their graceful festoons, and we could see the golden sand pouring in a
stream between the stems below, like a tributary to the river. These
strips of desert became more and more frequent as we advanced; and even
where tillage resumed its sway, the cultivated tracts were rarely more
than half a mile in breadth. Animal life, too, had more than
proportionately decreased. There was no game; iguanos comprised the
whole of what we met with in the way of sport, from the time of our
leaving Assouan. These were by no means scarce; and we killed one,
which, on being dissected, was found to contain twenty-seven eggs. They
were immediately handed over to our cook, the ingenious Abbas, whose
skill in gastronomy would have procured him immortality under the Caliph
Haroum Alraschid; and he served them up at dinner, converting them into
a very palatable, if not a dainty dish.
We kept a sharp look-out for crocodiles, but for some time were
disappointed, though once, in the evening, when it was too dark to
distinguish objects, we heard a loud splashing close by, which we had no
doubt was caused by some of these monsters gamboling in the water. Next
morning we heard from an old shepherd, who came to sell us some milk,
that a man had been carried off by a crocodile during the night, while
mending his sakeia. It appeared that the monster had first struck him
down with his tail, and then seized him, and threw itself into the
river. The same crocodile carried off a man last year, in a similar
manner, and about the same hour. It is said to be a well known
individual, though very rarely showing itself; that in consequence of
its cunning, careful observation of its habits is extremely difficult.
From the moment the circumstance was reported, our crews, who were
incorrigible news-mongers, would talk of nothing else; they were not so
willing to plunge into the water as they had been heretofore, though
they had shown no hesitation in places where crocodiles are more common,
as at Manfaloot.
At Kreem we anchored under a lofty crag, crowned by a ruined castle,
which formed a most striking object from the river. The cliff contains
several caverns, once repositories of the dead, who, though in their
day, mighty men on the earth, have left no name behind. Being almost
perpendicular, the ascent was very difficult, but with the aid of a
rope, fastened to one of the lintels above, we managed to scramble up.
Our first discovery was a square chamber, in which we found three idols
in a sitting posture, niched in the rock, each recess being enframed in
hieroglyphics. The ceiling was coloured yellow, in square patterns. With
the help of a rope, we made our way to two other chambers, constructed
on the same plan. They were, however, in better preservation, and in one
there were four idols, tolerably perfect. Another cave is of
comparatively modern date, and is inscribed with hundreds of names.
We had now two days’ calm, and it was not till Sunday evening that we
reached Ipsamboul, having been just a week from Philæ, and two from
Thebes. For miles before we arrived, we could see the colossal statue
which watches over the temple, standing up erect at his post, a landmark
and a beacon to all who approach. The temple is an excavation in the
heart of the rock, and the three great figures which guard the entrance,
as if it were the portal of another world, are cut out on the face of
the rock, in one solid piece. The expression of the face is solemn
repose, and, judging from the portion still visible, the attitude is
full of grandeur and majesty. The pedestals are embedded in sand, which
rises to the knees, and, indeed, has covered one of the figures as high
as the neck. It falls down between the two hills like a mountain
torrent, and has been converted into an ascent to the idol’s beard, on
which, with their usual discriminating taste, several of the Thomsons
and Smiths have inscribed their names. The poor god’s face, too, still
retains traces of the cast in plaster of Paris, which was taken for the
British Museum. I followed in the steps of more notable travellers, and
paid my devoir to his remains. Standing on his lips, a man of ordinary
height will be unable to reach his eyes—a fact which may give some idea
of the enormous magnitude of the figure. There was formerly a fourth
statue, of the same gigantic dimensions; but some relentless antiquary,
in a paroxysm of love and devotion, cut it down. Such is the fate of
gods and men!
The entrance to the wondrous temple, which is nearly blocked up by sand,
and threatens to be completely so in a short time, is through an
aperture about four feet high, which can only be penetrated in a
stooping posture. The visitor, to gain admittance, slides down on his
back, carrying with him a good addition to the accumulations of sand;
and then, with the aid of a torch, which the darkness renders
indispensable, finds himself in a wide and lofty chamber, forming the
principal hall of the temple. On either side rise four square pillars,
massive and tall; each faced by a huge figure, cut, as usual, in one
piece. I climbed on the shoulder of one, and standing there, was not
able, with my arms extended, to reach the top of the head. The walls of
the chamber are covered with representations of battle scenes and
triumphs, as if the heroes of those olden days despised the fugitive
page of history, and would only record their deeds on imperishable
stone. From this chamber we passed to a smaller one, adorned on each
side with similar rows of square pillars, though of smaller dimensions.
This was terminated by a sanctuary, in which, as we advanced, our torch
flashed upon the mutilated remains of four colossal idols, sitting on a
stone divan, fronting a block of granite, which had probably been an
altar. A number of chambers opened beyond, and we wandered through room
after room—formerly, perhaps, accessible only to the priesthood. The
walls are carved and coloured with an almost endless picture,
commemorating new scenes of conquest and triumph, illustrated by
hieroglyphics; many of which, though we had seen them in almost every
direction, were quite new to us. We particularly noticed a troop of
black slaves, and copper-coloured natives, drawn with great boldness and
power. In another chamber, all the figures from the foremost to the
last, wore black bracelets, armlets, and necklaces. The vigour of
outline, and brightness and delicacy of colouring, apparent in every
figure, could scarcely be surpassed. Many of the faces were beautiful,
and we were especially impressed by the serene and benevolent
expression, and the air of greatness and dignity which characterized all
the colossi. Rameses, the hero of the pictures, was represented at his
customary pastime, holding up a bunch of captives by the hair; but, as
usual, his vast stature made the achievement anything but difficult. In
another place, he is dismounting from an immense chariot, while his
Queen, a woman of great beauty, stands by, and presents him with a
goblet of wine. There are many other drawings of women in this temple,
more than we have ever seen in one place before; and the hieroglyphics,
designed to illustrate the marvellous pictures, present an almost
endless variety.
The subordinate temple, constructed on the same plan as the other, is of
much smaller dimensions. There are several suites of chambers, all
adorned with figures and sculptures, but everything is on a reduced
scale, and the impression created is not so striking. The colossi,
unlike those in the larger temple, are represented standing, and, though
executed in a masterly manner, have not the same majestic appearance.
The _façade_ of the temple, however, which is hewn out of the rock
overhanging the river, is very grand and imposing.
After exploring the whole, we returned to the principal chamber of the
great temple, and regaled ourselves with a pipe. The silence around was
absolute, and we did not care to break it. For the scene was of a
character to engross all our thoughts. Around and above were the dark
mysteries of the past: while our torch, flashing brightly up, threw its
ruddy light over our own figures, lying at the feet of those grim idols.
In the background were our Arab attendants, sitting or lying down, and
half shrouded in the darkness. A legion of bats, which had been startled
by our invasion, flew wildly about; the only tenants of the temple.
With reluctance we turned our steps from this wondrous fabric, and as
evening was now stealing on, repaired to our boats. Next morning,
however, we were up at sunrise, and took one more look at its mystic
chambers. Then all was over, and we bade an unwilling adieu to
Ipsamboul.
As soon as the anchor was weighed, a fresh breeze, which had been
blowing all night, swelled our sails, and carried us merrily on. It
lasted through the day, and by five o’clock we reached Wady-Halfa, where
our water journey was to terminate.
From the size of Wady-Halfa on the maps, we had expected to find a large
town, or, at least, a place of some importance; but, to our great
disappointment, it proved a miserable Egyptian village, with about three
hundred inhabitants. We paid a visit to the Governor, who, on being
shown our firman, treated us with marked courtesy, and promised his aid
in making an arrangement for our transit across the desert. Whether his
interference was of any service, or did not tend to raise the terms, is
a difficult question to decide, but such good offices are generally
dictated by self-interest in this part of the world.
Next morning we crossed to the other side of the river, the rendezvous
for camels, and thus escaped both the noise of the busy sakeias, and the
gaze of the idle crowd, to which we had hitherto been subjected. Here we
landed, and for the first time mounted some camels, and tested their
capabilities. The experiment was satisfactory; and we found the new way
of riding, though a little difficult at first, by no means
uncomfortable. From this we made our way to the Mount of Names, and the
second cataract.
The mount so enviably distinguished, rises perpendicularly from the
river, but to no great height, and on the land side, the elevation is
only a few yards. These elevations are entirely covered with names,
including some of European celebrity. On a spot dedicated to the
purpose, we felt a pleasure in inscribing our own, a task of no great
difficulty, as the rock, which is composed of white lime-stone, is
easily marked. We could not but think, on inspecting the great tablet,
that the name of Belzoni appeared to more advantage here than on the
sphinx at Karnac, or the doorway of Ipsamboul; and it was a satisfaction
to ascertain that a name so widely popular as Miss Martineau’s could be
found nowhere else. I am happy to say that we can make the same boast of
ours.
It was not till the following morning that we reached the Cataract,
which we skirted, on our way back, in our little boat, and viewed its
whole extent from the summit of a cliff. It is inferior to the Cataract
of Assouan, both in the grandeur of the fall, and in its situation. The
river is so broken and contracted by a number of little islets of black
rock, sprinkled through it for about three miles, and nowhere leaving
the channel wider than from twenty to thirty yards, that the water is
necessarily impeded, and descends with but little force. The flat
shores, almost level with the river, offer no object of interest; and
memory reverts with more pleasure to the romantic heights and rushing
waters of the first Cataract.
We have now reached the first stage of our journey, and have
accomplished the passage from Cairo in thirty-six days, which is about
the usual time. The boats, with a fairer allowance of wind, would have
done it in less, having throughout sailed in the most creditable manner;
but we have had many calms, and the process of tracking is very slow and
tedious. Of the winds on the Nile it is impossible to speak in anything
but the most severe terms. They are of the most variable nature, and
more fickle than Fortune. It is impossible to count on a breeze for a
single day.
We had every reason to be satisfied with the boats, though ‘The Fanny,’
spite of the precautions of the Reis, was, at starting, somewhat
infested with rats. But the strong remedy of a cat obviated this
inconvenience, and we had no further ground for complaint.
The two crews I cannot commend too highly. For Arabs, they worked
uncommonly well, and were exceedingly willing. The plenary power of the
Reis, as administrator and disciplinarian, were exercised very seldom,
when one or two of the men received a box on the ear, in the heat of
argument or remonstrance; and once a sailor was bastinadoed for being
tipsy. This was but a lame affair, the Reis being, in fact, very
reluctant to administer the punishment at all; however, as he had sworn
to do so, he made the man lie down, and receive a dozen over his coat,
which, being of no common thickness, effectually protected his skin.
CHAPTER XVI.
Retrospect.
Before I proceed to describe our journey through the desert, it may be
as well to take a glance at the country we have passed, and look once
more at its people.
The Egyptian Fellah, who forms the staple of the population, rarely
exceeds the middle stature. His head, and the whole of his face is
generally shaved; of course leaving him neither moustache nor beard. He
is not industrious; nature has not given him much to do, and he has
scarcely energy to do that.
The land will annually produce, at least four times as much as is
required for the subsistence of the people. With a rude instrument, not
unlike the pointed stick with which cabbages and lettuces are planted in
England, he bores a hole in the mud, on the islands left by the receding
river, and the beans or lentil-seeds, which are dropped into it, will
become ready for gathering without further attention. More labour is
necessary to make the land, not immediately on the banks of the river,
produce its wonted harvest, and shadoofs, so often spoken of in these
pages, are requisite for its irrigation.
This is managed in the following way: the ground is parcelled out in
beds about twelve feet square, which are raked in the most careful
manner; while little acqueducts run round each, and a slate filling up
the sluice, lets the water, ever running from the shadoofs, on and off,
as it may be required.
As far as I could learn, these fields, if properly attended, will
produce three crops annually. Pigeons, and sometimes hares, are
devouring the seed as it is thrown into the prepared mud, or nibbling
the cornsprouts as they raise themselves to the surface. Every two or
three days, the little sluices are thrown open, and the flowerbeds
covered with an inch or two of water.
As you walk along, you are struck with the great amount of population;
five or six fellahs are working in each field, and their wives and
children are assisting them, or play about, awaiting their return to the
village. These villages, as I have already shown, are exceedingly
pretty. Up to Ossioot they are all on the brink of the river, which
flows tranquilly past. A dozen mud dwellings, a whitewashed mosque, with
its tall minaret, and a grove of waving palms form the picture; and a
very charming one it is. A few clumsily-built boats are lying moored
against the high bank, and the gaudy blue and yellow dhabehee of the
Cavaghi adds another feature to the scene.
In entering their humble dwellings, you must stoop low to pass through
the doors. There are four or five rooms, all filled with smoke, from a
miserable fire in the outer room, made of little cakes of dung and sand,
emitting a most disagreable odour. A few old women, often as many as
four or five, are warming their withered hands over the embers, or
stirring the large cauldron in which the soup of lentils, or the mess of
beans is preparing for the family repast. These ancient women almost
suggest the question:
“What are these?
So withered, or so wild in their attire,
That look not like the inhabitants o’ th’ earth,
And yet are on ’t?”
But they are not witches, and as they hurriedly drop their veils (I
always thought they meant a kindness to the spectator), they resume the
very domestic occupations of spinning, and nursing some little
grandchild.
Around the outer room hang household utensils and agricultural
implements; in the others, mats stretched on the ground, or little
bedsteads covered with undressed sheepskins, constitute the only
furniture. Dogs, sheep, and pigeons dispute every inch of territory, and
the smoke soon forces you to retire.
Women, in their ever-graceful blue robes, carry up jars of water from
the river side, while their children are playing on the shore, or
swimming round the boat for backsheesh. I was particularly struck with
the invariable good-humour of the little urchins on the Nile. They have
not the sharp, impertinent look of the juvenile mendicants in our large
towns, and are as far removed from the stolid stupidity of the youth of
our rural and agricultural districts, who, as they open a gate not a
mile distant from some large village, respond to your question as to its
whereabouts, with a “Doan’t know,” or a long stare. They seem
intelligent and bright; familiar, though always respectful. I never saw
them ill-treating each other; might does not, in their estimation,
essentially constitute right, nor did I ever observe any bigger boy
bullying a weak or delicate child, as is too often done in England.
What I missed most in my visits to these people, was the affection and
filial tenderness which should naturally subsist between children and
their parents; but this, though not ostentatiously displayed, is not
always wanting. The existence of such feelings was strikingly evinced in
the behaviour of our Reis to his son.
The Reis had brought his son away from home, preferring the corrupting
influences of boat life to the chances of his being torn from his
mother’s care by the hateful conscription, and a parent more
affectionate, or a child more dutiful, I never beheld. Said—so the boy
was named—was about ten years old, and of most engaging appearance, with
fine bright eyes, and a clear copper complexion, beautifully shaded. He
was very intelligent, and from the day of his appearance amongst us, we
dressed him in bright chintz, always clean.
We promoted him from the office of do-nothing to the very important one
of gun-cleaner and pipe-bearer, and he always accompanied us on our
shooting excursions, proving himself a capital retriever. On one
occasion, he had broken some dinner knives of ours, and as far as I
could learn had not confessed with his usual veracity, as he was a very
honest boy. For this, he was most mercilessly punished—a duty his father
evidently disliked; this clouded the harmony previously existing between
them, as the son did not take the well-deserved chastisement in the way
he probably would have done previously to the indulgence and
independence he had enjoyed on board. The next night, as he was leaning
over the prow of the boat, then darting forwards under a heavy gale, he
fell overboard, and instantly disappeared beneath the waters. I was
standing by his father, who was at the helm, on the top of the high
cabin, and was a witness of the catastrophe. He would not, even to save
his son, neglect his duty, which at that moment involved the safety of
others, and it was left to strangers to rescue his only child from
destruction. Quick as thought, however, three men dashed overboard; the
boat was lowered to pull them up; and in a few minutes, the boy, though
in a state of insensibility, was restored to his father. The latter
neither exhibited deep anxiety at his threatened loss, nor intense
gratitude at his child’s almost miraculous preservation; we were much
surprised at his apparently stern indifference and apathy. But in his
desire to conceal his feelings which nature had given him, he had
overrated his strength; the same night he was taken very ill, and
several days elapsed before he recovered his usual energy.
As I lay on the deck one night talking to Daireh, and enjoying the
exquisite moonlight and soft cool air, among other stories which he told
me was the following, accounting as he said in a curious manner for the
origin of the three varieties of Arab character.
“When Noah was about to enter into the Ark, he went to the first
shipwright then dwelling in the world, and asked him if he would build
him a boat, according to the measurements he had prepared; but the man
answered:
“‘You have asked God to make us equally rich, and as I am as rich as
you, why should I build you a boat?’
“Noah answered:
“‘I will give you my beautiful daughter in marriage.’ Then the great
builder of ships agreed, and built the Ark.
“But in its construction, they wanted the great worker in iron, and Noah
offered him in vain heaps of that money which he possessed in as
sufficient quantities as himself; and again the much-coveted daughter
was promised as the price of the iron fittings. The Ark was built, but
had to be furnished for its long voyage, and the corn merchant refused
to stock the vessel with the requisite provisions, except at the already
twice promised price of the beautiful daughter. This was agreed to, and
now all was prepared, the ark was ready, and the three sons-in-law
wended their way towards the embarrassed parent. The young maiden was
carrying water from the ever-flowing well, as, every one being equally
rich, no one would work for another; but her dog had strayed into her
room, and as the father entered the house with the great ironmonger, he
found a beautiful daughter where he had only left a dog, and the happy
man departed with the miraculously changed animal. Then came the grain
factor, and departed with an ass transformed into the shape of its
mistress; and Noah felt relieved of the anxiety which his indiscreet
promises had caused him. And now together approached the real daughter,
conversing with the shipwright, and Noah joined their hands, and they
all went into the Ark together, and when the waters rose, they sailed
away.”
As Daireh finished his tale, he turned to the least intelligent of the
sailors, and as he called him, and he answered with a long and stupid
“What?” He said: “you see he come from the donkey mother; and that man
which so quarrel with the other Reis, you see, he come from dog parent;
and when you see our young lady, you no can doubt she descend from real
Noah daughter.”
“But Daireh,” said I, “do you really believe that tale?”
“Why! clever Dervish tell it me.”
I was unable, by frequent conversations with the dragoman, to discover
what position the Dervishes filled among the village people. An old
grey-headed man was always to be seen smoking or idling about in the
court-yard of the mosque; he, though having evidently no salaams, was
attached to these Dervishes, who have the monopoly of professional
begging, and are always wonderfully dressed in piles of clothes, of all
ages and fashions, from European frock coats, to untanned tiger and lion
skins. They made very free with our party, always laying their hands
upon me, and invoking many blessings on my head, in which, if I am to
trust the interpretations of Daireh, length of years and eternal youth
figured conspicuously.
These are the real Dervishes, or priests, but all clever Arabs are
called by the same title. We have a sailor on board one of the boats, or
rather a man taken by the crew as a servant, who we were assured, “was
quite real Dervish.” He was dressed as the rest of the crew, and used to
read aloud from some dirty manuscript, which he kept in his hat, nearly
every night; it was generally the “Arabian Nights,” but sometimes a more
modern work. He wrote all the agreements, kept all the accounts of the
other men, and prayed much more frequently than any of them.
The people pray on rising and on going to rest, and once or twice
besides, in the middle of the day. In our boats, these devotions were
very regularly performed; and nearly all day some one or other of the
crew was prostrating himself on the roof, his face turned towards the
city of his Prophet; or washing, previously to his devotions, in the
little boat behind.
Most of the crew were married, and some had many children, though they
all seemed to have lost a good number, whom they talked of meeting again
in Heaven.
Women are invariably spoken of with great respect, and always treated
with kindness. “He very bad man, beat his wife,” was Daireh’s severest
censure; nor could I find any who had had more than one wife at a time.
They divorce themselves, however, very easily; a quarrel, or even a
difference of opinion, seems to constitute sufficient cause for a
separation; while the wife can demand a divorce, in Egypt, because her
husband does not give her as much sweet-smelling scents as she wishes,
or in Nubia because he does not give her the quantity of oil and grease
to which her rank, as his wife, entitles her.
I was surprised, under these circumstances, that divorces were not more
frequent; but on Daireh’s explaining the manner in which the dowries are
managed, I began to understand it without difficulty. At the wedding,
the husband settles a dowry on his wife—perhaps a pigeon-house and its
feathery occupants, or a few acres of land, or a diabeheeh, or some
household utensils; and should he dismiss her, from whatever cause,
except, of course, those which would seem sufficient in more civilized
lands, he must hand over her dowry, which, as no odium is attached to
the discarded wife, speedily procures her another husband.
The Arabs are very tenacious of property, and one can hardly guess how
many matrimonial squabbles are happily prevented by the wholesome fear
of losing the pigeon-house, or having to give up the diabeheeh.
Pigeon-houses, as the reader may have observed from my descriptions, are
quite a feature in Nile scenery; and the upper story of every dwelling,
in some villages, is crowded with pigeons and their nests. They are kept
solely for their manure, and seem in themselves common property. We were
always allowed, and even encouraged to kill as many as we liked, except
close to the village, where the owners were afraid we should scare them.
Not so the doves, which, as Abbas told me, “are not lucky for man to
kill,” though, when killed, he appeared to have no objection to cooking
them in the most approved style; and very good they were, our ladies
preferring them to partridges.
I expected to have found the Arabs more superstitious than they are. Our
servants were as much so as any one we met; our crews, wild and
courageous, were the reverse. The most popular and deep-rooted prejudice
was against Wednesday; and all the undertakings commenced on that day,
were, they thought, sure to be disastrous. At Cairo, bricklayers will
not begin a work, or finish it, on Wednesday; nor will native merchants
be easily induced to buy or sell; business on Wednesdays, therefore, is
“very dull,” and articles “heavy of sale.” On Friday, on the contrary,
business is peculiarly “brisk,” as on that day there is a lucky hour,
which is to be seized upon, as the unlucky one on Wednesday is, if
possible, to be avoided.
It often occurred to me, that what was lucky to the seller might be
unlucky to the buyer; but this does not seem to have struck the
Egyptian, and he persists in being very prudent on Wednesdays, and very
rash on Fridays.
Our crews were a constant source of amusement to us, they were always
merry and good-humoured, and particularly so when the wind blew strong
from the north, filling our huge sail; and then our Reis at the helm,
telling his son some tale, in a low and monotonous voice, would leave
the sailors free to amuse themselves as they liked. They had but one
enjoyment, but it seemed never to fail. Gathering round the man whose
duty it was to sit at the rope which held the mainsail, the drum was
produced—a sheep-skin stretched over a kind of earthenware jar, open at
the other end—and a pipe wonderfully constructed; and then commenced a
concert, the airs being all in one key. They had but few songs; and some
I recognised as having been thought worthy of translation. I insert two,
the composition of a kind friend—
I.
Like the low sweet music of thy voice
Is the whispering stream;
And my soul, in its melody, fain
Would for ages dream!
II.
Thine eyes resemble the wild gazelle’s,
And thy perfumed hair
Is soft as robes of embroidered silk,
Such as proud Sheiks wear.
III.
Oh! beautiful maiden of Araby,
Fair as a young new moon,
I’ll prize for ever one smile of thine
As life’s dearest boon.
IV.
Sell me, I pray, in the Turk’s bazaar
As a Moslem slave,
Or bid me in the Nile’s dark stream
Find a watery grave:
V.
For sooner shall I forget to swim,
And my lips to eat,
Than cease to recall the hour when first
I knelt at thy feet.
VI.
But I know by thy shy radiant glance,
Which I dimly see,
An obedient wife, and a faithful slave,
Wilt thou be to me.
VII.
Costly and rare the gifts I’ll bestow
When once thou art mine,
Gums and rich jewels, spices and shawls,
They shall all be thine.
VIII.
Oh! beautiful maiden of Araby,
Fair as a young new moon,
I’ll prize for ever one smile of thine
As life’s dearest boon!
* * * * *
I.
Sing, boatmen, sing, it will beguile
Our voyage up the dark-blue Nile;
Pray we for a northern wind,
Though leaving homes and wives behind;
Too fierce the heat for us to row,
Against the rustling current’s flow.
The great Cavàghi is on board,
And we to home shall be restored,
When safely shall his hareem reach
The wind-kissed, pebbly Theban beach.
II.
Sing, boatmen, sing, our hearts are free
From grinding care, though poor we be;
Our wives locked up, are well secured,
And happiness for them ensured
By food in plenty; so no Beauty
Need to swerve from her heart’s duty.
But, comrades, should the bad Turks come,
With clash of cymbal, beat of drum,
Will not our ardent bosoms burn,
When we to Cairo shall return,
Should they have forced our wives away,
And treachery thus our love repay?
III.
No, boatmen, no, our Arab wives
Shall happy make our future lives;
Since skies midst storms retain their blue
Our lovely maids will still be true.
And when our purses shall be lined,
May Allah send a southern wind,
To speed us on our homeward way!
And hail we soon that blissful day,
Which shall to us our wives restore,
Whom absence makes us love the more.
Then, boatmen, sing, it will beguile
Our voyage down the dark-blue Nile.
At the end of each verse, which is sung by one person, the crew join in,
sometimes with a yell of horror, sometimes with a shout of delight, as
the occasion may require, and sometimes only repeating the last line in
chorus. That apathy which so especially distinguishes the Arab,
disappears altogether when under the influence of music; and I have seen
some of the men worked up to a state of wild enthusiasm, or fearful
rage, by a well-sung account of their domestic circle going wrong during
their absence. But Daireh had such an aversion to translating the words
of their numerous effusions all to one tune, that I was obliged to
conclude that there were but few of them adapted to “ears polite.” I
have often thought, however, that Daireh was a very free translator. The
first time I had any doubt about his veracity as an interpreter, was at
Ossioot, where the following conversation ensued between the Governor
and myself, through his agency.
“Daireh, tell his Excellency, that I could not pass through this city
without having the honour of seeing him.”
“No, Herr George, I not say that, I say his having honour to see you:
then give you pipe directly.”
_The Pasha._ “What are you saying?”
_Daireh._ “He say he very great man from England, come on purpose all
the way to call upon very mighty Governor of Ossioot.”
_The Pasha._ “Taib, hat tchibouque.” (Good, bring a pipe for him.)
“Daireh,” I asked, “what did you tell him?”
“Oh! I tell him he ought to make much honour to see you. You very great
man.”
“Undeceive him directly. Tell him I am an English traveller.”
_Pasha_ (_evidently uneasy about our prolonged “asides”.)_ “Is the
Cavaghi come by himself?”
_Daireh._ “No; he have very big family on very fine boat.”
_Pasha._ “Taib” (and a long smoke ensued).
I now began to insist on a real translation of my speeches, and I made
some progress in Oriental conversation. I think it was in this interview
I discovered that crossing one’s legs whilst sitting in a divan or
chair, and putting one’s hand’s in one’s pockets, were abominations to
the Egyptians.
CHAPTER XVII.
Itinerary for the Desert.
Our plan was to ride from Wady Halfa to Dongola, cutting off all the
bends of the river, but endeavouring to sleep nightly on its banks. From
Dongola, we intended to cross over to Gebel Berkel, passing through the
desert of Argab-Teschagoa. We should cross the river at Merowah, and
make our way through the desert of Bayiouda to Metamneh, or Wady
Bashara, as our guides, in that country the supreme authorities, should
direct. From this point, we should proceed to Khartoum, whence boats
were to carry us to Berber, where we could procure camels to Korosko,
about seventy miles above Assouan. No ladies had ever as yet succeeded
in penetrating to the south of Dongola, and we by no means bound
ourselves to that adventurous course.
Our three tents, and innumerable boxes were got out of the hold of the
two boats: the Cairene water-skins, which of course all leaked, were
repaired, and our small desert wardrobe was already stowed in our little
carpet-bags. We then explained to the Reis that five weeks were to
elapse before he left Wady Halfa, on his downward journey to Korosko,
but Daireh took the word out of our lips, and said:
“You see the moon; when it go away, and come again big as now, you still
wait till you have prayed seven times on the top of the cabin, in the
night; and when the moon come small before it go, and you have had your
prayer seven times, then turn the boat, and row.”
In my anxiety to try how a tent served for a bedroom, I carried up all
my things, and pitched my canvass dwelling on the shore, regardless of a
violent gale blowing at the time, I installed myself within; but my
house was indeed founded on the sand, and about midnight, the whole
fabric was blown down. I passed a very uncomfortable night indeed, but
the morning broke at last, and we prepared for our first real day in the
desert.
APPENDIX
TO
VOL. I.
The annexed observations were made by my father up to the time of his
death, and have been continued with, I hope, the same accuracy and
attention.
We used an aneroid barometer, which we found had not varied the least
during this long journey, when we compared it at Cairo on our return
there. As the greater portion of the observations refer to the journey
described in the first volume, they are introduced here, in preference
to placing them at the end of the work.
+------+-------+-----------+----------+-----+--------+------------------+
|Date. | Hour. | Place. |Barometer.|Heat.|Maximum.| Observations. |
+------+-------+-----------+----------+-----+--------+------------------+
|1850. | | | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
|6 Oct.|12 A.M.|Cairo, | 29·90 | 86 | 104 |Cloudless, |
| | |Hôtel | | | |Sirocco. |
| | |d’Europe. | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
|7 .. |.. .. |.. .. | 29·92 | 86 | 92 |.. N.E. light. |
| | | | | | | |
|8 .. |9 A.M. |.. .. | 29·91 |81·5 | 90 |.. .. .. |
| | | | | | | |
|9 .. |12 A.M.|.. .. | 29·72 |86·5 | 89 |Very light clouds.|
| | | | | | | |
|10 .. |.. .. |.. .. | 29·82 | 87 | 90 |.. |
| | | | | | | |
|11 .. |.. .. |.. .. | 29·91 | 82 | 90 |Cloudless. |
| | | | | | | |
|12 .. |.. .. |.. .. | 29·93 | 83 | 87 |.. |
| | | | | | | |
|13 .. |.. .. |.. .. | 29·96 | 83 | 84 |.. |
| | | | | | | |
|14 .. |.. .. |.. .. | 29·99 |80·50| 83 |.. |
| | | | | | | |
|15 .. |2 P.M. |.. .. | 29·94 | 83 | 84 |.. |
| | | | | | | |
|16 .. |12 A.M.|.. .. | 29·90 | 81 | 83 |Cloudy for a |
| | | | | | |couple of hours, |
| | | | | | |a few drops of |
| | | | | | |rain. |
| | | | | | | |
|17 .. |1 P.M. |.. .. | 29·80 | 84 | 86 |Cloudless. |
| | | | | | | |
|18 .. |12 A.M.|.. .. | 29·75 | 80 | 84 |Very slight |
| | | | | | |clouds. |
| | | | | | | |
|19 .. |.. .. |.. .. | 29·81 | 77 | 83 |.. |
| | | | | | | |
|20 .. |.. .. |Boat, near | 29·83 |77·5 | 83 |Cloudless. |
| | |Memphis. | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
|21 .. |12 A.M.|.. at | 29·95 | 78 | 80 |Cloudless. |
| | |False | | | | |
| | |Pyramids. | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
|22 .. |1 P.M. |.. | 29·95 | 79 | 81 |.. |
| | |Benisooef. | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
|23 .. |12 A.M.|.. Sheik | 29·92 | 78 | 82 |.. |
| | |Embarak. | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
|24 .. |.. .. |.. | 29·83 | 81 | 85 |.. |
| | |Colosaneh. | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
|25 .. |.. .. |.. Minieh. | 29·81 |86·50| 89 |.. |
| | | | | | | |
|26 .. |.. .. |.. Sheik | 29·79 |84·50| 93 |.. N.N.E. breeze. |
| | |Abadeh. | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
|27 .. |.. .. |.. Deir el | 29·79 |77·50| 86 |Clouds early, N. |
| | |Cossair. | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
|28 .. |.. .. |.. Ossiout.| 29·72 | 83 | 85 |Light clouds, no |
| | | | | | |wind. |
| | | | | | | |
|29 .. |.. .. |.. .. | 29·71 |82·50| 91 |.. .. |
| | | | | | | |
|30 .. |.. .. |.. near | 29·75 | 83 | 87 |Cloudless, light |
| | |Ossiout. | | | |S.E. |
| | | | | | | |
|31 .. |.. .. |.. Calieh. | 29·79 |82·50| 88 |.. N.E. very |
| | | | | | |light. |
| | | | | | | |
|1 Nov.|.. .. |.. | 29·80 | 81 | 91 |Light clouds, no |
| | |Meshrala. | | | |wind. |
| | | | | | | |
|2 .. |.. .. |.. Sondfi. | 29·74 | 83 | 91 |Cloudless, S.E. |
| | | | | | |very light. |
| | | | | | | |
|3 .. |.. .. |.. | 29·76 | 79 | 90 |.. N.E. fresh |
| | |Shendowill.| | | |breeze. |
| | | | | | | |
|4 .. |.. .. |.. Samatar.| 29·79 | 73 | 83 |.. .. |
| | | | | | | |
|5 .. |.. .. |.. near | 29·77 |72·50| 77 |Cloudless, N.E. |
| | |Dishneh. | | | |light breeze. |
| | | | | | | |
|6 .. |12 A.M.|.. Keneh. | 29·76 | 78 | 79·50 |Light clouds, |
| | | | | | |N.E. light breeze.|
| | | | | | | |
|7 .. |.. .. |.. Ballas. | 29·76 | 73 | 82 |Cloudless, |
| | | | | | | |
|8 .. |.. .. |.. Demfig. | 29·74 | 74 | 81 |.. no wind. |
| | | | | | | |
|9 .. |.. .. |.. near | 29·73 |77·50| 80 |.. .. |
| | |Thebes. | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
|10 .. |8½ .. |.. Luxor. | 29·73 |68·25| 80 |.. N.W. fresh |
| | | | | | |breeze. |
| | | | | | | |
|11 .. |12 .. |.. | 29·76 | 75 | 77·50 |.. .. |
| | |Gebelein. | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
|12 .. |.. .. |.. Esneh. | 29·73 | 67 | 74 |.. .. |
| | | | | | | |
|13 .. |.. .. |.. | 29·71 |70·50| 71 |.. N.W. very |
| | |Eilethya. | | | |light. |
| | | | | | | |
|14 .. |.. .. |.. near | 29·70 |71·50| 78 |.. N. light. |
| | |Silwa. | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
|15 .. |.. .. |.. | 29·69 |76·50| 80 |.. N.W. very |
| | |Koom-Ombo. | | | |light. |
| | | | | | | |
|16 .. |.. .. |.. near | 29·67 |75·50| 81·50 |.. N.W. fresh |
| | |Assuan. | | | |breeze. |
| | | | | | | |
|17 .. |5 P.M. |.. First | 29·69 | 82 | 82 |.. .. |
| | |Cataract. | | | | |
| | | | | | | |
|18 .. |12 .. |.. Philæ. | 29·83 | 70 | 78·50 |.. .. |
| | | | | | | |
|19 .. |.. .. |.. | 29·80 | 69 | 73·50 |Very light |
| | |Kalabsheh. | | | |clouds, N.W. |
| | | | | | |fresh breeze. |
| | | | | | | |
|20 .. |.. .. |.. Seboua. | 29·82 | 68 | 71 |.. .. |
| | | | | | | |
|21 .. |12 A.M.|.. Korosko.| 29·79 | 71 | 73 |S.W. very light. |
| | | | | | | |
|22 .. |12 A.M.|.. Ibrim. | 29·72 | 74 | 79 |Cloudless, N.E. |
| | | | | | |light. |
| | | | | | | |
|23 .. |.. .. |.. past | 29·68 | 78 | 78 |Light clouds, no |
| | |Ibrim. | | | |wind |
| | | | | | | |
|24 .. |.. .. |.. | 29·69 |75·50| 82 |Very light |
| | |Ipsambul. | | | |clouds, no wind. |
| | | | | | | |
|25 .. |.. .. |.. past | 29·71 | 74 | 82·75 |Few clouds, N.W. |
| | |Ipsambul. | | | |fresh breeze. |
| | | | | | | |
|26 .. |.. .. |.. Wadi | 29·70 | 60 | 76 |Rather cloudy, |
| | |Halfa. | | | |N.W. light breeze.|
| | | | | | | |
|27 .. |.. .. |.. .. | 22·71 | 62 | 79 |.. N.W. fresh |
| | | | | | |breeze. |
| | | | | | | |
|28 .. |.. .. |.. .. | 29·57 | 59 | 78·50 |Light clouds, N. |
| | | | | | |very light. |
| | | | | | | |
|.. .. |5½ P.M.|Tent, | 29·45 | 81 } |Cloudless, .. |
| | |Desert nr. | | } | |
| | |River. | | } no | |
| | | | | }regular | |
|29 .. |5½ A.M.|.. .. | 29·40 | 58 }register|Light clouds, .. |
| | | | | } kept. | |
|.. .. |5½ P.M.|.. .. 2nd | 29·41 |78·50} |Cloudless, .. |
| | |day. | | } | |
| | | | | | | |
|30 .. |6 A.M. |.. .. .. | 29·40 |58·50|} |Light clouds, N. |
| | | | | |} midday|fresh breeze. |
| | | | | |} heat. | |
|.. .. |6 P.M. |.. .. 3rd | 29·20 | 80 |} |Cloudless, N. |
| | |day. | | |} |very light. |
| | | | | | | |
|1 Dec.|5½ A.M.|.. .. .. | 29·14 | 62 |} |.. N.E. .. |
| | | | | |} 95 | |
|.. .. |3 P.M. |.. .. 4th | 29·34 | 83 |} |.. .. Hours |
| | |day. | | |} |.. Travelled.|
| | | | | | | |
|2 .. |5½ A.M.|.. .. .. | 29·39 | 66 |} |Some } |
| | | | | |} |clouds, } |
| | | | | |} 93 |N.W. .. } |
| | | | | |} | } 9h. 10m.|
|.. .. |6½ P.M.|.. .. Dahl.| 29·20 | 83 |} |Cloudy, } |
| | | | | |} |.. .. } |
+------+-------+-----------+----------+-----+--------+------------------+
[H.: Hour; B.: Barometer.; Obs.: Observations.]
+-----+----+----------+-----+-----+----------+------------+----------+
|Date.| H. | Place. | B. |Heat.| Mid-day | Hours | Obs. |
| | | | | | Heat. | travelled. | |
+-----+----+----------+-----+-----+----------+------------+----------+
|1850.| | | | | | H. M. | |
| | | | | | | | |
|3 |5¼ |Tent, |29·21| 71 |}in tent. | 7 5 |Cloudy, |
|Dec. |A.M.|Succout. | | |} 88 | |W.N.W. |
| | | | | |} | |fresh |
| | | | | |} | |breeze. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|5¾ |.. 6th |29·20| 81 |} | |Light |
| |P.M.|day. | | |} | |clouds, ..|
| | | | | | | | |
|4 .. |5½ |.. .. |29·19| 62 |}in tent. | 7 40 |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.| | | |} 90 | |N. strong |
| | | | | |} | |breeze. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|6 |.. |29·25|78·50|} | |.. N. |
| |P.M.|Sadaenga. | | |} | |fresh |
| | | | | |} | |breeze. |
| | | | | | | | |
|5 .. |6 |.. 7th |29·27|62·50|}in tent. | 7 30 |.. .. |
| |A.M.|day. | | |} 88 | | |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|6½ |.. Open |29·16| 74 |} | |Cloudy, |
| |P.M.|desert, | | |} | |N. stormy.|
| | |high | | |} | | |
| | |ground. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|6 .. |5¼ |.. .. |29·14| 56 |}in tent. | 8 50 |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.| | | |} 86 | |N. fresh |
| | | | | |} | |breeze. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|6¾ |.. nr. |29·30|74·50|} | |Cloudy, ..|
| |P.M.|River, | | |} | | |
| | |9th day. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|7 .. |6 |.. .. .. |29·24| 62 |}in tent. | 8 0 |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.| | | |} 88 | |.. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|6 |.. Haffir |29·23| 79 |} | |Light |
| |P.M.|country, | | |} | |clouds, |
| | |10th day. | | |} | |N. light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|8 .. |5½ |.. .. .. |29·16| 57 |}in shade,| 10 18 |.. .. |
| |A.M.| | | |}open air.| | |
| | | | | |} 84 | | |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|7 |.. |19·14|73·50|} | |.. no |
| |P.M.|Dongola. | | |} | |wind. |
| | | | | | | | |
|9 .. |7½ |.. .. |29·13| 56 |}in tent. | 0 0 |.. N. |
| |A.M.| | | |} 92 | |light |
| | | | | |} | |breeze. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|6 |.. .. |29·12| 85 |} | |.. .. |
| |P.M.| | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|10 ..|7 |.. .. |29·07| 57 |}in tent. | 0 0 |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.| | | |} 85 | |N. high. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|7 |.. .. |29·11| 73 |} | |Light |
| |P.M.| | | |} | |clouds, |
| | | | | |} | |light |
| | | | | |} | |breeze. |
| | | | | | | | |
|11 ..|7 |.. |29·16| 56 |}in tent. | 0 0 |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.|Dongola. | | |} 82 | |N. high. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|6 |.. .. |29·19| 69 |} | |.. N. |
| |P.M.| | | |} | |light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|12 ..|7 |.. .. |29·20| 47 |}in tent. | 1 0 |.. N. |
| |A.M.| | | |} 84 | |fresh |
| | | | | |} | |breeze. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|6 |Desert of |29·23| 72 |} | |.. .. |
| |P.M.|Argab- | | |} | | |
| | |teschagoa | | |} | | |
| | |East side | | |} | | |
| | |of the | | |} | | |
| | |Nile. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|13 ..|5½ |Tent, .. |29·21|56·50|}in shade.| 7 45 |.. N. |
| |A.M.|1st day. | | |} 82 | |high. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|6¼ |.. .. .. |29·22| 70 |} | |Light |
| |P.M.| | | |} | |clouds, ..|
| | | | | | | | |
|14 ..|6 |.. .. 2nd |29·25| 52 |}open air.| 8 17 |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.|day. | | |}82 high | |N. light. |
| | | | | |} wind. | | |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|6½ |.. .. .. |29·07| 69 |} | |Light |
| |P.M.| | | |} | |clouds, |
| | | | | |} | |N.E. |
| | | | | |} | |fresh. |
| | | | | | | | |
|15 ..|5½ |.. .. 3rd |28·97| 48 |}open air.| 9 3 |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.|day. | | |}84 high | |N.E. |
| | | | | |} wind. | |light. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|8¼ |.. .. .. |29·01| 64 |} | |.. .. |
| |P.M.| | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|16 ..|7½ |.. .. 4th |28·97| 53 |}open air.| 9 57 |.. N.E. |
| |A.M.|day. | | |} 83 | |very |
| | | | | |} | |light. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|8 |.. |29·09| 75 |} | |.. N.E. |
| |P.M.|Merawah | | |} | |light. |
| | |River. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|17 ..|7½ |.. East |29·08| 56 |}open air.| To Gebel |.. N.N.E. |
| |A.M.|side. | | |} 84 | Berkel and |high. |
| | | | | |} | back. | |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|7½ |.. .. .. |29·07| 71 |} | |.. N.N.E. |
| |P.M.| | | |} | |light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|18 ..|7½ |.. Desert |29·09| 55 |}open air.| 6 35 |.. N.N.E. |
| |A.M.|of | | |} 86 | |very |
| | |Bayouda. | | |} | |light. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|7 |.. .. 1st |28·94| 75 |} | |.. N.N.E. |
| |P.M.|day. | | |} | |light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|19 ..|6 |.. Desert |28·89| 55 |}in shade | 8 45 |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.|of | | |}of trees.| |N.N.E. |
| | |Bayouda. | | |} 80 | |very |
| | | | | |} | |light. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|7 |.. .. 2nd |28·64| 81 |} | |Light |
| |P.M.|day. | | |} | |clouds, |
| | | | | |} | |N.N.E. |
| | | | | |} | |light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|20 ..|5½ |.. .. |28·55| 57 |}open air.| 7 58 |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.| | | |} 96 | |.. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|6¼ |.. .. 3rd |28·28| 76 |} | |.. .. |
| |P.M.|day. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|21 ..|5½ |.. .. |28·20| 66 |}open air.| 8 52 |.. N. |
| |A.M.| | | |} 100 | |light. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|6 |.. .. 4th |28·35| 80½ |} | |.. N. |
| |P.M.|day. | | |} | |very |
| | | | | |} | |light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|22 ..|5¾ |.. .. |28·39| 72 |}in tent. | 9 20 |.. N.E. |
| |A.M.| | | |} 88 | |very |
| | | | | |} | |light. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|7 |.. .. 5th |28·24| 82 |} | |.. .. |
| |P.M.|day. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|23 ..|5¾ |.. .. |28·20| 70 |}in shade | 9 48 |Light |
| |A.M.| | | |}of trees.| |clouds, ..|
| | | | | |} 94 | | |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|7 |.. .. 6th |28·45| 81 |} | |.. .. |
| |P.M.|day. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|24 ..|5 |.. .. |28·39| 79 |}open air.| 7 4 |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.| | | |} 104 | |.. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|7 |.. River |28·55| 86 |} | |.. .. |
| |P.M.|at Hafir. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|25 ..|5½ |.. .. |28·50| 73 |}open air.| 8 33 |.. N.E. |
| |A.M.| | | |} 102 | |light. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|7 |.. Saial, |28·52| 84 |} | |.. .. |
| |P.M.|near | | |} | | |
| | |River. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|26 ..|5 |.. .. |28·53| 70 |}open air.| 9 42 |.. N.E. |
| |A.M.| | | |} 96 | |fresh. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|8 |.. |28·55| 72 |} | |.. .. |
| |P.M.|Opposite | | |} | | |
| | |Khartoum. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|27 ..|7 |.. |28·54| 62 | | } |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.|opposite | | | | } |N.E. high.|
| | |Khartoum. | | | | } | |
| | | | | | | } | |
|.. ..|8 |.. .. |28·54| 75 | | } |.. N.E. |
| |P.M.| | | | | } |very high.|
| | | | | | | } | |
|28 ..|7 |.. .. |28·50| 62 |}in shade.| } |.. N. |
| |A.M.| | | |} 96 | } |very high.|
| | | | | |} | } | |
|.. ..|6 |Mud |28·49| 82 |} | } |.. N.E. |
| |P.M.|Palace, | | |} | } |fresh. |
| | |Khartoum. | | |} | } | |
| | | | | | | } | |
|29 ..|7 |.. .. |28·51| 70 |}open air.| } |.. N.E. |
| |A.M.| | | |} 94 | } |light. |
| | | | | |} | } | |
|.. ..|9 |.. .. |28·53| 79 |} | } |Light |
| |P.M.| | | |} | } |clouds, ..|
| | | | | | | } | |
|30 ..|7 |.. .. |28·50| 76½ |}open air.| } |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.| | | |} 96 | } |N.E. very |
| | | | | |} | } |light. |
| | | | | |} | } | |
|.. ..|10 |.. .. |28·48| 80 |} | } |.. no |
| |P.M.| | | |} | } |wind. |
| | | | | | | } | |
|31 ..|7 |.. .. |28·48| 77 |}open air.| } |.. .. |
| |A.M.| | | |} 92 | } | |
| | | | | |} | } | |
|.. ..|6 |.. .. |28·44| 85 |} | } |Light |
| |P.M.| | | |} | } |clouds, |
| | | | | |} | } |no wind. |
| | | | | | | } | |
|1851.| | | | | | } | |
| | | | | | | } | |
|1 |7 |.. .. |28·44| 78 |}open air.| } |.. .. |
|Jan. |A.M.| | | |} 95 | } | |
| | | | | |} | } | |
|.. ..|4 |Boat, |28·41| 87 |} | } |Cloudless,|
| |P.M.|opposite | | |} | } |.. |
| | |Halfay. | | |} | } | |
| | | | | | | } | |
|2 .. |6½ |.. near |28·46| 67 | | } |Light |
| |A.M.|Saial. | | | | } |clouds, |
| | | | | | | } |N. strong.|
| | | | | | | } | |
|.. ..|6 |.. .. |28·61|80·50| | } |.. .. |
| |P.M.| | | | | } | |
| | | | | | | } | |
|3 .. |7 |.. near |28·63| 59 |}open air.| } |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.|Rayan. | | |} 80 | } |N. fresh. |
| | | | | |} | } | |
|.. ..|6 |.. near |28·67| 77 |} | } |Light |
| |P.M.|Habisher. | | |} | } |clouds, ..|
| | | | | | | }Travelling| |
|4 .. |6¾ |.. near |28·59| 64 |}open air.| } in |Light |
| |A.M.|Habisher. | | |} 82 | } Dihabieh |clouds, |
| | | | | |} | } day |N. strong.|
| | | | | |} | } and | |
|.. ..|6 |.. |28·64| 74 |} | } night. |Cloudless,|
| |P.M.|Metameh. | | |} | } |N. fresh. |
| | | | | | | } | |
|5 .. |7 |.. Shendy.|28·71| 65 |}open air.| } |.. .. |
| |A.M.| | | |} 82 | } | |
| | | | | |} | } | |
|.. ..|7¼ |.. |28·69| 76 |} | } |Light |
| |P.M.|Kaboushir.| | |} | } |clouds, |
| | | | | |} | } |N. light. |
| | | | | | | } | |
|6 .. |6 |.. .. |28·69| 69 |}open air.| } |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.| | | |} 81½ | } |N. light. |
| | | | | |} | } | |
|.. ..|6 |.. |28·66| 77½ |} | } |.. .. |
| |P.M.|opposite | | |} | } | |
| | |Halyhab. | | |} | } | |
| | | | | | | } | |
|7 .. |6½ |.. before |28·70| 66 |}open air.| } |.. N. |
| |A.M.|Damer. | | |} 86 | } |fresh. |
| | | | | |} | } | |
|.. ..|6½ |.. at |28·71| 81 |} | } |.. N. |
| |P.M.|Berber. | | |} | |light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|8 .. |9 |.. .. |28·75| 70 |}open air.| 1 20 |.. N. |
| |A.M.| | | |} 92 | |very |
| | | | | |} | |light. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|7 |Tent, |28·69| 82 |} | |.. N. |
| |P.M.|Desert, | | |} | |light. |
| | |nr. | | |} | | |
| | |Berber. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|9 .. |6 |.. .. .. |28·62| 63 |}open air.| 10 15 |.. .. |
| |A.M.| | | |} 92 | | |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|10½ |.. .. nr. |28·72| 82 |} | |.. .. |
| |P.M.|5th Cat. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|10 ..|7 |.. .. .. |28·67| 64 |} Desert | 4 54 |Light |
| |A.M.| | | |}hot-wind,| |clouds, |
| | | | | |}shade 96 | |N. light. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|7 |.. .. |28·61| 81½ |} | |.. .. |
| |P.M.|past 5th | | |} | | |
| | |Cat. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|11 ..|6½ |.. .. .. |28·60| 64 |}in shade.| 7 10 |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.| | | |} 88½ | |N. very |
| | | | | |} | |light. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|6½ |.. .. |28·69| 88 |} | |.. .. |
| |P.M.|along the | | |} | | |
| | |Nile. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|12 ..|6½ |.. Desert |28·67| 65 |}open air.| 7 0 |Light |
| |A.M.|along the | | |} 93 | |clouds, |
| | |Nile. | | |} | |N. very |
| | | | | |} | |light. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|7 |.. .. .. |28·69| 82 |} | |.. .. |
| |P.M.| | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|13 ..|6½ |.. .. .. |28·67| 64 |}in shade.| 3 25 |.. .. |
| |A.M.| | | |} 92 | | |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|6 |.. .. |28·67| 89 |} | |.. .. |
| |P.M.|Gagee, | | |} | | |
| | |Nile. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|14 ..|6½ |.. .. at |28·71| 65½ |}in shade.| |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.|Gagee. | | |} 92 | |N. fresh. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|6 |.. .. .. |28·72| 88½ |} | |.. N. |
| |P.M.| | | |} | |high. |
| | | | | | | | |
|15 ..|9 |.. .. .. |28·77| 74 | shade. 92| |.. .. |
| |A.M.| | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|16 ..|9 |.. .. .. |28·76| 68 | shade. 94| |.. .. |
| |A.M.| | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|17 |9 |.. .. .. |28·71| 75 | shade. 85| |Slight |
|.. |A.M.| | | | | |clouds, |
|[3] | | | | | | |N. high. |
| | | | | | | | |
|18 ..|9 |.. .. .. |28·73| 81 |}in shade.| |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.| | | |} 88 | |.. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|7 |.. .. .. |28·69| 85 |} | |Slight |
| |P.M.| | | |} | |clouds, |
| | | | | |} | |no wind. |
| | | | | | | | |
|19 ..|12 |.. .. .. |28·81| 81 | | |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.| | | | | |N. very |
| | | | | | | |high. |
| | | | | | | | |
|20 ..|6 |.. .. .. |28·61| 55 |} shade, | 7 0 |.. no |
| |A.M.| | | |}very high| |wind. |
| | | | | |}wind. 69 | | |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|9 |.. near |28·76| 72 |} | |Cloudy |
| |P.M.|Abouhamed.| | |} | |and windy.|
| | | | | | | | |
|21 ..|7 |.. .. |28·76| 57 |}in shade.| 1 45 |Slight |
| |A.M.| | | |} 76 | |clouds, |
| | | | | |} | |no wind. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|6 |.. |28·71| 56 |} | |Cloudless,|
| |P.M.|Abouhamed.| | |} | |N. strong.|
| | | | | | | | |
|22 ..|8¼ |.. Desert |28·81| 74 |}tent. 75 | 7 10 |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.|of | | |}high N.E.| |N. very |
| | |Korosko. | | |} wind. | |strong. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|9 |.. .. 1st |28·73| 66 |} | |.. light. |
| |P.M.|day. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|23 ..|8 |.. .. |28·71| 51 |}tent. 73 | 8 30 |Light |
| |A.M.| | | |}cloudy, | |clouds, ..|
| | | | | |}very high| | |
| | | | | |} wind. | | |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|9½ |.. ..2nd |28·65| 63 |} | |Cloudy, |
| |P.M.|day. | | |} | |N.E. |
| | | | | |} | |light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|24 ..|8 |.. .. |28·65| 53 |}tent. 74 | 8 25 |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.| | | |}fresh N. | |.. |
| | | | | |} wind. | | |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|9 |.. .. 3rd |28·79| 71 |} | |.. N. |
| |P.M.|day. | | |} | |fresh. |
| | | | | | | | |
|25 ..|7½ |.. .. |28·72| 53 |}tent. 76 | 8 20 |.. .. |
| |A.M.| | | |}light E. | | |
| | | | | |} wind. | | |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|8 |.. .. 4th |28·63| 73 |} | |.. no |
| |P.M.|day. | | |} | |wind. |
| | | | | | | | |
|26 ..|7½ |.. .. |28·57| 54 |}tent. 79 | 4 30 |.. .. |
| |A.M.| | | |} slight | | |
| | | | | |}clds. no | | |
| | | | | |} wind. | | |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|7¼ |.. Well |28·60| 78 |} | |Light |
| |P.M.|in middle | | |} | |clouds, |
| | |of | | |} | |light. |
| | |Desert, | | |} | | |
| | |5th day. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|27 ..|7 |.. .. |28·56| 64 |} tent. | 8 25 |.. no |
| |A.M.| | | |}78 very | |wind. |
| | | | | |}cloudy, | | |
| | | | | |} calm. | | |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|8 |.. Desert |27·99| 75 |} | |Cloudy, ..|
| |P.M.|of | | |} | | |
| | |Korosko, | | |} | | |
| | |6th day. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|28 ..|7½ |.. .. |27·88| 62 |} tent. | 8 30 |.. .. |
| |A.M.| | | |}92 very | | |
| | | | | |}cloudy. | | |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|7½ |.. .. 7th |28·26| 84 |} | |Very |
| |P.M.|day. | | |} | |cloudy, |
| | | | | |} | |rain. |
| | | | | | | | |
|29 ..|7½ |.. .. |28·18| 66 |}tent. 92 | 9 10 |Cloudy, |
| |A.M.| | | |} light | |calm, |
| | | | | |}clouds. | |drops of |
| | | | | |} | |rain. |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|8 |.. .. 8th |28·59| 86 |} | |Slight |
| |P.M.|day. | | |} | |clouds, |
| | | | | |} | |calm. |
| | | | | | | | |
|30 ..|5½ |.. Desert |28·50| 74 |} very | 10 25 |Slight |
| |A.M.|of | | |}cloudy, | |clouds, |
| | |Korosko. | | |}drops of | |calm. |
| | | | | |} rain. | | |
| | | | | |} | | |
|.. ..|7½ |.. .. 9th |28·95| 71 |} | |Cloudy, N.|
| |P.M.|day. | | |} | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|31 ..|7¼ |.. .. |28·95| 62 | | 2 45 |Cloudy, |
| |A.M.| | | | | |rainy, no |
| | | | | | | |wind. |
| | | | | | | | |
|1 | |.. .. | | | | | |
|Feb. | |11th day. | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|2 .. |10 |Boat, at |29·65| 63 | | |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.|Assuan. | | | | |calm. |
| | | | | | | | |
|.. ..|7½ |.. near |29·75| 70 | | |.. N. |
| |P.M.|Assuan. | | | | |fresh. |
| | | | | | | | |
|3 .. |9 |.. at |29·70| 57 | | |.. calm. |
| |A.M.|Daraou. | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|.. ..|6 |.. |29·71| 69 | | |.. N.W. |
| |P.M.|Koom-Ombo.| | | | |fresh. |
| | | | | | | | |
|4 .. |10 |.. near |29·70| 62 | | |Light |
| |A.M.|Edfou. | | | | |clouds, |
| | | | | | | |S. light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|.. ..|7½ |.. near |29·69| 75 | | |.. .. |
| |P.M.|Esneh. | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|5 .. |9½ |.. at |29·69| 61 | | |Very |
| |A.M.|Esneh. | | | | |foggy, |
| | | | | | | |calm. |
| | | | | | | | |
|.. ..|64 |.. below |22·60| 69 | | |Misty, |
| |P.M.|Esneh. | | | | |drops of |
| | | | | | | |rain. |
| | | | | | | | |
|6 .. |12 |.. Thebes.|29·50| 69 | | |Cloudy, |
| |A.M.| | | | | |drops of |
| | | | | | | |rain, S. |
| | | | | | | |light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|7 .. |7 |.. Keneh. |29·49| 63 | | |.. hard |
| |P.M.| | | | | |rain all |
| | | | | | | |night, |
| | | | | | | |N.W. |
| | | | | | | |fresh. |
| | | | | | | | |
|8 .. |11 |.. .. |29·56| 67 | | |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.| | | | | |S. light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|.. ..|8 |.. below |29·50| 63 | | |.. S.W. |
| |P.M.|Keneh. | | | | |light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|9 .. |9 |.. |29·59| 58 | | |.. calm. |
| |A.M.|Farshoot. | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|10 ..|10¾ |.. past |29·66| 64 | | |Cloudless,|
| |A.M.|Girgeh. | | | | |S.E. |
| | | | | | | |light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|.. ..|8½ |.. at |29·78| 68 | | |.. calm. |
| |P.M.|Ekhmim. | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|11 ..|11 |.. at Gow |28·81| 64 | | |.. S. |
| |A.M.|El Kebir. | | | | |light, |
| | | | | | | |all day. |
| | | | | | | | |
|.. ..|5 |.. near |29·76| 75 | | |.. N. |
| |P.M.|Ossiout. | | | | |light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|12 ..|9 |.. |29·79| 59 | | |.. N. |
| |A.M.|Ossiout. | | | | |fresh. |
| | | | | | | | |
|.. ..|6½ |.. .. |29·61| 68 | | |.. N. |
| |P.M.| | | | | |light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|13 ..|10½ |.. past |29·80| 61 | | |.. N. |
| |A.M.|Ossiout. | | | | |very |
| | | | | | | |light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|.. ..|9 |.. |29-79| 68 | | |.. N.E. |
| |P.M.|Mahabdi. | | | | |very |
| | | | | | | |light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|14 ..|10 |.. |29·84| 62 | | |.. calm. |
| |A.M.|Darout- | | | | | |
| | |e’- | | | | | |
| | |Sherif. | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|.. ..|10 |.. Beni |29·70| 65 | | |.. .. |
| |P.M.|Hassan. | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|15 ..|8½ |.. past |29·52| 57 | | |.. S. |
| |A.M.|Minieh. | | | | |strong. |
| | | | | | | | |
|.. ..|7½ |.. |29·54| 65 | | |Hazy, |
| |P.M.|Gindieh. | | | | |S.E. |
| | | | | | | |light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|16 ..|11 |.. near |29·66| 64 | | |Slight |
| |A.M.|Benisooef.| | | | |clouds, |
| | | | | | | |S.W. |
| | | | | | | |fresh. |
| | | | | | | | |
|.. ..|7½ |.. Eddeir.|26·75| 67 | | |Cloudy, |
| |P.M.| | | | | |W. very |
| | | | | | | |light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|17 ..|10 |.. Atfieh.|29·93| 63 | | |Light |
| |A.M.| | | | | |clouds, |
| | | | | | | |N. light. |
| | | | | | | | |
|.. ..|6 |.. |29·95| 67 | | |.. .. |
| |P.M.|Dashour. | | | | | |
| | | | | | | | |
|18 ..|8 |.. Cairo. |29·93| 52 | | |Cloudy, |
| |A.M.| | | | | |calm. |
+-----+----+----------+-----+-----+----------+------------+----------+
LONDON:
Printed by Schulze and Co., 13, Poland Street.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: Since the above remarks were written, public attention has
been called to this neglected relic of antiquity through the all-
powerful medium of _The Times_. In such hands the question may be very
safely left; but surely the nation that can throw away untold sums on a
fabric like the Marble Arch, can spare £2,000 for the preservation of
this fine column, which, transplanted to English soil, might commemorate
the deeds of an Abercrombie or a Nelson.]
[Footnote 2: The remains of the statue of Memnon, as well as a splendid
obelisk at Karnac, are, like the prostrate Cleopatra’s Needle, the
property of the English Government, but the wealthiest nation of the
earth cannot afford the outlay required for their removal, and they are,
therefore, left unclaimed.]
[Footnote 3: At 6½ P.M. on the 17th there was a partial eclipse of the
moon, which lasted two hours.]
Transcriber's note:
pg 124 Changed: "a sketch of the diabekeeh" to: "diabeheeh"
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