Discoveries in Egypt, Ethiopia and the peninsula of Sinai, in the years 1842-1845, during the mission sent out by his majesty, Frederick William IV of Prussia.

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Title: Discoveries in Egypt, Ethiopia and the peninsula of Sinai, in the years 1842-1845, during the mission sent out by his majesty, Frederick William IV of Prussia.
Author: Lepsius, Richard
Language: English
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*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Discoveries in Egypt, Ethiopia and the peninsula of Sinai, in the years 1842-1845, during the mission sent out by his majesty, Frederick William IV of Prussia." ***
ETHIOPIA AND THE PENINSULA OF SINAI, IN THE YEARS 1842-1845, DURING THE
MISSION SENT OUT BY HIS MAJESTY, FREDERICK WILLIAM IV OF PRUSSIA. ***

[Illustration:

On Stone by W. L. Walton. Printed by Hullmandel & Walton.

MOUNT BARKAL. (NUBIA)

London. Richard Bentley New Burlington Street, 1852.]

DISCOVERIES

EGYPT, ETHIOPIA,

AND THE

PENINSULA OF SINAI,

IN THE YEARS 1842-1845,

DURING THE MISSION

SENT OUT BY

HIS MAJESTY FREDERICK WILLIAM IV. OF PRUSSIA.

BY DR. RICHARD LEPSIUS.

EDITED, WITH NOTES, BY
KENNETH R. H. MACKENZIE.

[Illustration: MEROE.]

SECOND EDITION, WITH ADDITIONS AND CORRECTIONS.

LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
Publisher in Ordinary to Her Majesty.
1853.

ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT,

WITH

THE DEEPEST RESPECT AND GRATITUDE.

AUTHOR’S PREFACE.

The purpose of the Scientific Expedition, sent out in 1842 by his
Majesty the King, was an historical and antiquarian research into, and
collection of the ancient Egyptian monuments, in the valley of the Nile,
and the peninsula of Sinai. It was by royal munificence provided with
the means for remaining three years; it rejoiced in the favour and
interest of the highest person in the realm, as well as in the most
active and kindly assistance of Alexander Von Humboldt; and under such a
rare combination of fortunate circumstances, it completed its intended
task as fully as could have been hoped. A “Prefatory account of the
expedition, its results, and their publication,” (Berlin, 1849, 4to.)
was published with the first parts of the great monumental work, which
is brought out at the command of his Majesty, in a manner corresponding
to the importance of the treasures brought back, and contains a short
abstract of the more important results of the Expedition. The work,
there announced, “The Monuments of Egypt and Ethiopia,” will contain
more than 800 plates, of the largest size, of which half are already
prepared, and 240 plates already published, will lay before the public
these results, as far as concerns the sculptures, the topography, and
architecture, while the accompanying text will explain them more fully.

It however, appeared necessary (without taking the purely scientific
labours into account), to lay before a larger circle of readers a
picture of the external events of the expedition, of the relative
operations of its members, of the obstacles, and the favourable
circumstances of the journey, the condition of the countries through
which it passed, and their effect upon the actual design of the
undertaking; finally to offer a few observations on the remarkable
monuments of that most historical of all countries, as must continually
recur to the well prepared traveller, and which might rouse others who
have already perceived the importance of the newly founded science, to a
more active interest. If, besides, it be of the greatest utility for a
just understanding of these scientific labours which are gradually
coming to the light, and which have been caused by the journey; that the
circumstances under which the materials for them were collected, I think
that the publication of the following letters requires no farther
excuse, as they make no pretension to any particular literary
perfection, or descriptive power, or, on the other hand, to be a
strictly scientific work.

The letters are almost in the original form as they were written,
sometimes as a report direct to his Majesty the King, sometimes to his
Excellency, the then Minister of Instruction, Eichhorn, or to other high
patrons and honoured men, as A. Von Humboldt, Bunsen, Von Olfers,
Ehrenberg, and sometimes to my father, who followed my progress with
the most lively interest. Several of them were immediately printed in
the papers on their arrival in Europe, particularly in the _Preussische
Staatszeitung_, and thence in other papers. The unessential changes
mostly relate to the editing. All the additions or enlargements have
been added as notes; and among these belong particularly the arguments
and grounds as to the true position of Sinai, which, since then has been
proved in various quarters, and again disproved, and again concurred in.
The thirty-sixth letter, on the arrangement of the Egyptian Museum in
Berlin, turns certainly from the subject; but we may allow the
exception, as this point is not alone interesting to Berlin, but in all
points the examination is worth while, where there is any resemblance to
or comparison with modern art.

It is proposed to add a second part to these letters, in which several
treatises, written during the expedition, or on different points
relating to Egyptian art or history, will be published.

BERLIN, _2nd June, 1852_.

CONTENTS.

LETTER I.--ON BOARD THE ORIENTAL STEAMER, SEPT. 5, 1842 Page 1

Sea voyage to Alexandria.

LETTER II.--ALEXANDRIA, SEPT. 23, 1842 6

Malta.--Gobat.--Isenberg.--Krapf.--Alexandria.--Mohammed Ali.

LETTER III.--CAIRO, OCT. 16, 1842 11

Alexandria.--Pompey’s Pillar.--Cleopatra’s Needle.--Collection of
Werne.--Departure from Alexandria.--Sais.--Nabarîeh.--Cairo.
--Heliopolis.--The king’s birth-day
kept at the pyramids.--View from the pyramid of Cheops.

LETTER IV.--AT THE FOOT OF THE GREAT PYRAMID, JAN. 2, 1843 24

Pyramids of Gizeh.--Private tombs.--Sphinx.--Storm of
rain.--Christmas.--Life in the Camp.

LETTER V.--PYRAMIDS OF GIZEH, JAN. 17, 1843 32

The hieroglyphical tablet on the pyramid of Cheops.--Historical gain.

LETTER VI.--PYRAMIDS OF GIZEH, JAN. 28, 1843 37

The oldest royal dynasties.--Tomb of Prince Merhet.--Private
tombs.--Destruction by the Arabs.--Oldest obelisk.

LETTER VII.--SAQARA, MARCH 18, 1843 44

Pyramids of Meidûm.--Architecture of the pyramids.--The Riddle of the
Sphinx.--Locust.--Comet.

LETTER VIII.--SAQARA, APRIL 13, 1843 51

H. R. H. Prince Albrecht of Prussia.--Rejoicings in Cairo.--Return of
Pilgrims.--Mulid e’ Nebbi.--Doseh.--Visit of the prince to the
pyramids.--Oldest use of the pointed arch in Cairo.--Oldest round arch
in Egypt.--Night attack at Saqâra.--Judgment day.

LETTER IX.--CAIRO, APRIL 22, 1843 64

Situation of the fields of pyramids.--Cairo.

LETTER X.--RUINS OF THE LABYRINTH, MAY 31, 1843 67

Departure for the Faiûm.--Camels and dromedaries.--Lisht.
--Meidûm.--Illahun.--Labyrinth.--Arab music.--Bedouins.--Turkish
khawass.

LETTER XI.--LABYRINTH, JUNE 25, 1843 78

Ruins of the Labyrinth.--Its first builders.--Pyramid.--Lake Mœris.

LETTER XII.--LABYRINTH, JULY 18, 1843 85

Excursion through the Faiûm.--Mœris embankments.--Birqet el
Qorn.--Dimeh.--Qasr Qerûn.

LETTER XIII.--CAIRO, AUGUST 14, 1843 91

Departure of Frey.--Ethiopian manuscripts.

LETTER XIV.--THEBES, OCT. 13, 1843 93

Nile passage to Upper Egypt.--Rock-cave of Surarîeh. Tombs of the sixth
dynasty in Middle Egypt, of the twelfth at Benihassan, Sint,
Bersheh.--Arrival at Thebes.--Climate.--Departure.

LETTER XV.--KORUSKO, NOVEMBER 20, 1843 100

Greek inscriptions.--Benihassan.--Bersheh.--Tombs of the sixth
dynasty.--El Amarna.--Siut--Alabaster quarries of El Bosra.--Echmin
(Chemmis).--Thebes.--El Kab (Eileithyia).--Edfu.--Ombos.--Egyptian
Canon of Proportion.--Assuan.--Philae.--Hieroglyphic demotic
inscriptions.--Series of Ptolemies.--Entrance in Lower
Nubia.--Debôd.--Gertassi.--Kalabsheh (Talmis).--Dendûr.--Dakkeh
(Pselchis).--Korte.--Hierasykaminos.--Mehendi.--Sebûa.--Korusko.--Nubian
language.

LETTER XVI.--KORUSKO, JANUARY 5, 1844 133

Scarcity of camels.--Wadi Halfa.--Ahmed Pasha Menekle and the new Pashas
of the Sudan.

LETTER XVII.--E’DAMER, JANUARY 24, 1844 137

Nubian desert.--Roft mountains.--Wadi E’Sufr.--Wadi Murhad.--Abâbde
Arabs.--Abu Hammed.--Berber.--El Mechêref.--Mogran or Atbara
(Astaboras).--E’Damer.--Mandera.

Letter XVIII.--On the Blue River, Province of Sennar, 13° North
Latitude, March 2, 1844 155

Hagi Ibrahim.--Meroe.--Begerauie.--Pyramids.--Bounds of the tropical
climate.--Khawass.--Ferlini.--Age of the monuments.--Shendi.--Ben
Naga.--Naga in the desert.-- Mesaurât e’
Sofra.--Tamaniât.--Chârtum.--Bahrel Abiad (the White River).--Dinka and
Shilluk.--Soba.--Kamlîn.--Bauer.--Marble inscription.--Baobâb.--Abu
Harras.--Rahad.--Nature of the country.--Dender.--Dilêb-palms.
--Sennâr.--Abdîn.--Româli.--Sero.--Return northward.--Wed
Médineh.--Soriba.--Sultana Nasr.--Gabre
Mariam.--Rebâbi.--Funeral.--Military.--Emin
Pasha.--Taiba.--Messelemieh.--Kamlîn.--Soba.--Urn and inscription.

LETTER XIX.--CHARTUM, MARCH 21, 1844 207

Military revolt in Wed Médineh.--Insurrection of slaves.

LETTER XX.--PYRAMIDS OF MEROE, APRIL 22, 1844 211

Tamaniât.--Qirre mountains.--Meroe.--Return of the Turkish army from
Taka.--Osman Bey.--Prisoners from Taka.--Language of the Bishari from
Taka.--Customs of the South.--Pyramids of Meroe.--Ethiopian
inscriptions.--Name of Meroe.

LETTER XXI.--KELI, APRIL 29, 1844 233

Departure from Meroe.--Groups of tombs north of Meroe.

LETTER XXII.--BARKAL, MAY 9, 1844 237

Desert of Gilif.--Gôs Burri.--Wadi Gaqedûl.--Mágeqa.--Desert
trees.--Wadi Abu Dôm.--Wadi Gazâl.--Koptic church.--Greek
inscriptions.--Pyramids of Nuri.--Arrival at Barkal.

LETTER XXIII.--MOUNT BARKAL, MAY 28, 1844 248

Ethiopian kings.--Temple of Ramses II.--Napata.--Meraui.--Climate.

LETTER XXIV.--DONGOLA, JUNE 15, 1844 251

Excursion into the district of cataracts.--Bân.--Departure from
Barkal.--Pyramids of Tanqassi, Kurru, and Zûma.--Churches and fortresses
of Bachît, Magal, Gebel Dêqa.--Old Dongola.--Nubian language.

LETTER XXV.--DONGOLA, JUNE 23, 1844 262

Isle of Argo.--Kermâ and Defûfa.--Tombos.--Inscriptions of Tuthmosis
I.--Languages of Darfur.

LETTER XXVI.--KORUSKO, AUGUST 16, 1844 264

Fakir Fenti.--Sese.--Soleb.--Gebel Doshe. Sedeinga.--Amâra.--Isle of
Sâi.--Sulphur-springs of Okmeh.--Semneh.--Elevation of the Nile, under
Amenemha (Mœris).--Abu Simbel.--Greek inscription under Psammeticus
I.--Ibrîm (Primis).--Anibis.--Korusko.

LETTER XXVII.--PHILAE, SEPTEMBER 1, 1844 271

Wadi Kenus.--Bega language of Bishari.--Talmis.--Philae.
--Meroitic-Ethiopian inscriptions.

LETTER XXVIII.--THEBES, QURNA, NOV. 24, 1844 274

Excavations in the Temple and Rock-tomb of Ramses II.--Sudan
languages.--Ethiopian history and civilisation.

LETTER XXIX.--THEBES, QURNA, JAN. 8, 1845 277

Removal of monuments and plaster casts.

LETTER XXX.--THEBES, FEBRUARY 25, 1845 279

Description of Thebes.--Temple of Karnak and its history.--Luqsor.--El
Asasif.--Statue of Memnon.--Memnonium.--Temple of Ramses II.--Medînet
Habu.--The Royal Tombs.--Private tombs of the time of
Psammetichus.--Time of the Cæsars.--Koptic convent and church.--The
present Kopts.--Revenge of the Arabs.--Dwelling in Abd el Qurna.--Visit
from travellers.

LETTER XXXI.--ON THE RED SEA, MARCH 21, 1845 313

Immigrations from Qurna to Karnak.--Journey to the Sinai
peninsula.--Qenneh.--Seîd Hussên.--Stone bridge and inscriptions of
Hamamât.--Gebel Fatireh.--Lost in the desert.--Quarries of porphyry at
Gebel Dochân.--Gebel Zeit.

LETTER XXXII.--CONVENT OF SINAI, MARCH 24, 1845 333

Landing in Tôr.--Gebel Hammâm.--Wadi Hebrân.--Convent.--Gebel
Mûsa.--Gebel Sefsaf.

LETTER XXXIII.--ON THE RED SEA, APRIL 6, 1845 338

Departure from the convent.--Wadi e’ Sheikh.--Ascension of Serbâl.--Wadi
Firan.--Wadi Mokatteb.--Copper-mines of Wadi Maghâra.--Rock inscriptions
of the fourth dynasty.--Sarbut el Châdem.--Slag-hills.--Wadi
Nasb.--Harbour of Zelimeh.--True situation of Sinai.--Monkish
traditions.--Local and historical relations.--Elim near Abu
Zelimeh.--Mara in Wadi Gharandel.--Desert of Sin.--Sinai, the Mountain
of Sin.--The mountain of God.--Sustenance of the Israelites.--Raphidîm
near Pharan.--Sinai-Choreb, near Raphidîm.--Review of the Sinai
question.

LETTER XXXIV.--THEBES, KARNAK, MAY 4, 1845 372

Return to Thebes.--Revenge.

LETTER XXXV.--CAIRO, JULY 10, 1845 374

Dendera.--El Amarna.--Dr. Bethmann.--Taking down the tombs near the
pyramids.

LETTER XXXVI.--CAIRO, JULY 11, 1845 376

The Egyptian Museum in Berlin.--Wall paintings.

LETTER XXXVII.--JAFFA, OCTOBER 7, 1845 389

Journey through the Delta.--San (Tanis).--Arrival in Jaffa.

LETTER XXXVIII.--NAZARETH, NOVEMBER 9, 1845 391

Jerusalem.--Nablus (Sichem).--Tabor.--Nazareth.--Lake of Tiberias.

LETTER XXXIX.--SMYRNA, DECEMBER 7, 1845 394

Carmel.--Lebanon.--Berut.--Journey to Damascus.--Zahleh.--Tomb of
Noah.--Barada.--Abel’s tomb.--Inscriptions at Barada.--Tomb of
Seth.--Bâlbek.--Ibrahim.--Cedars of Lebanon.--Egyptian and Assyrian
Rock-sculptures at Nahr el Kelb.

APPENDIX 420

INDEX 449

[Illustration:

MAP
of
EGYPT,
_and the higher Nile Countries_
to
LEPSIUS’S
LETTERS FROM EGYPT & ETHIOPIA.
1852.

_View of Mount Sinai from the Sea at Gebel Zeit._

_London, Richard Bentley, 1852._ _T. Brooker sc._
]

LETTERS

FROM

EGYPT, ETHIOPIA, AND THE PENINSULA

OF SINAI.

LETTER I.

ON BOARD THE ORIENTAL STEAMER.
_September 5, 1842._

All our endeavours were taxed to the utmost to render our departure on
the 1st of September possible; one day’s delay would have cost us a
whole month, and this month it was necessary to gain by redoubled
activity. My trip to Paris, where I arrived in thirty hours from London,
was unavoidable; two days were all that could be spared for the
necessary purchases, letters, and notes, after which I returned richly
laden from that city, ever so interesting and instructive to me. In
London I obtained two other pleasant travelling companions, Bonomi and
Wild, who had readily resolved to take part in the expedition. The
former, long well known as a traveller in Egypt and Ethiopia, is not
only full of practical knowledge of life in that country, but is also a
fine connoisseur of Egyptian art, and a master in Egyptian drawing; the
latter, a young genial-minded architect, enthusiastically seeks in the
Orient new materials for his rich woof of combination.

At length everything was bought, prepared, packed, and we had said
farewell to all our friends. Bunsen only, with his usual kindness and
untiring friendship, accompanied us to Southampton, the place of
embarkation, where he spent the evening with us.

As one usually arrives at a sudden, scarce comprehensible quietude, on
entering a harbour from the stormy sea, after long and mighty
excitement, and yet seems to feel the earth swimming beneath one, and to
hear the breakers dashing around, so did it happen to me in a contrary
manner, when, from the whirl of the last days and weeks in the haven,
from the immeasurable world-city, I entered on the uniform desert of the
ocean, in the narrow-bounded, soon-traversed house of planks. And now
there was nothing more to be provided, nothing to be hurried; our long
row of packages, more than thirty in number, had vanished, box by box,
into the murky hold; our sleeping-places required no preparation, as
they would scarcely hold more than our persons. The want of anxiety
caused for some time a new and indefinite uneasiness, a solicitude
without any object of solicitude.

Among our fellow-passengers I mention only the missionary Lieder, who, a
German by birth, is returning with his English wife to Cairo. There he
has founded and conducted a school since 1828, under the auspices of the
English Missionary Society, which is now destined exclusively for the
children of the Koptic Christians. Lieder has introduced into this
school the study of the Koptic tongue, and thus once more brought into
honour that remarkable and most ancient language of the country, which
for several centuries has been totally superseded among the people by
the Arabic. The Scriptures are, however, yet extant in the Koptic
tongue, and even used in the service, but they are only intoned, and no
longer understood.

On the 1st of September, at 10 o’clock, we left Southampton. We had the
wind against us, and therefore did not reach Falmouth for four and
twenty hours, where our vessel awaited the London post, to take the
letters. There we remained several hours at anchor in a charming bay, at
each side of the entrance of which an old castle lies upon the heights,
while the town, situated in the background, form a most picturesque
group. About 3 o’clock we went to sea again; the wind took us sideways,
and caused much sickness amongst the passengers. I esteem myself
fortunate, that in no passage, however stormy, have I had to complain of
this disagreeable condition, which has, for the unsharing spectator, a
comical aspect. It is, however, remarkable, that the very same movement
that cradles every child to soft slumber, and forms the charm of a sail
down the river, causes, by its protracted pendulum-like motion,
unconquerable suffering, prostrating the strongest heroes, without,
however, bringing them into any very serious danger.

Next day we reached the Bay of Biscay, and ploughed laboriously through
the long deep waves that rolled to us from the far-off shore. Sunday
morning, the 4th, we had a very small company at breakfast. About 11
o’clock we assembled to prayers, notwithstanding the continual motion.
Over the pulpit the English flag was spread, as the most sacred cloth on
board. Herr Lieder preached, simply and well. Toward 4 o’clock we began
to see the Spanish coast, in light misty outlines. The nearer we
approached it, the shorter the waves became, as the wind blew from the
shore. The air, the heavens, and the ocean, were incomparably beautiful.
Cape Finisterre and the neighbouring coast line came out more and more
prominently. Gradually the whole company, even the ladies, assembled on
deck. The sea smoothed itself to a bright mirror; the whole afternoon we
kept the Spanish coast in sight. The sun set magnificently in the sea;
the evening-star was soon followed by the whole host of heavenly stars,
and a glorious night rose above us.

Then it was that the most splendid spectacle commenced that I have ever
beheld at sea. The ocean began to sparkle; all the combs of the breaking
waves burnt in emerald-green fire, and from the paddles of the vessel
dashed a bright greenish-white torrent of flame, which drew behind it,
for a great distance, a broad flashing stripe amidst the darkling
waters. The sides of the vessel and our downward-looking faces were
shone upon as if by moonbeams, and I could read print with the greatest
ease by this water-fire. When the blazing mass, which, according to
Ehrenberg’s researches, is caused by infusoria, was most intense, we saw
flames dancing over the waves to the shore, so that it seemed as if we
were traversing a more richly-starred heaven than the one we beheld
above us. I have also beheld the oceanlight in the Mediterranean, but
never in such extraordinary perfection as this time: the scene was
magical.

Suddenly I saw new living fire-forms among the waves, that fled
radiantly from the sides of the vessel. Like two giant serpents, which,
judging from the length of the vessel, must have been from sixty to
eighty feet long, they went trailing along beside the ship, crossing the
waves, dipping in the foam of the wheels, coming forth again,
retreating, hurrying, and losing themselves at last in the distance. For
a long time I could assign no cause for this phenomenon. I recollected
the old and oft-told tales of monstrous seasnakes that are seen from
time to time. What I here beheld could not have resembled them more than
it did. At length I thought that it might only be fishes, who, running a
race with the steamer, and breaking the uniform surface of the water,
caused the long streams of light behind them by their rapid motions.
Still the eye was as much deceived as ever; I could discover nothing of
the dark fishes, nor guess their probable size, but I contented myself
at length with my supposition.

LETTER II.

ALEXANDRIA.
_September 23, 1842._

My last letter I posted on the 7th of September, at Gibraltar, where we
employed the few hours allotted to us in examining the fortress. The
African continent lay before us, a bright stripe on the horizon; on the
rocks beneath me climbed monkeys, the only ones in Europe in a wild
state, for which reason they are preserved. In Malta, where we arrived
on the eleventh of September, we found the painter Frey, from Basle,
whose friendship I had made at Rome. He brought me intelligence by word
of mouth that he would take part in the expedition, and for that purpose
he had arrived several days before from Naples. We had to wait almost
three days for the Marseilles post at this place. This gave us, at all
events, the opportunity to visit the curiosities of the island,
particularly the Cyclopean walls discovered some years before in the
neighbourhood of La Valette, and also to make some purchases. Through
Lieder I made the acquaintance of Gobat,[1] who until now had been the
principal person at the Maltese station of the English Missionary
Society, but who was now awaiting some new destination, as pecuniary
circumstances had caused the Society to give up this station altogether.
I had great pleasure in knowing so distinguished a person.

From Malta we were accompanied by the missionary Isenberg, who resided
for a long time with Gobat in Abyssinia, and who is favourably known to
philologists by his grammar of the Amharic language. Under his
protection there was a young lady of Basle, Rosine Dietrich, the bride
of the missionary Krapf, who has married her here, and will now return
to the English missionary station at Shoa, by the next Indian steamer,
with her and his colleagues, Isenberg and Mühleisen. He was married in
the English chapel, and I was present as a witness at the solemnity,
which was celebrated in a simple and pleasing manner.

On our arrival, on the 18th of September, we found Erbkam, Ernst
Weidenbach, and Franke, who had been awaiting us for some days.

Mohammed Ali had sailed out in the fleet, as he looked anxiously forward
to the arrival of Sami Bey, who was to bring him the desired reduction
in tribute: instead of it he obtained the appointment of Grand Vizier.

The Swedish General Consul D’Anastasi, who manages the Prussian
Consulate for our absent Consul Von Wagner, and who interests himself
zealously in our behalf, presented us to-day to the Viceroy, and we have
just returned from the audience. The Pasha expressed great pleasure at
the vases which I had brought him in the name of His Majesty. Still more
did he feel himself honoured by the letter of the King, of which he
immediately had a translation prepared, reading it very attentively
through in our presence. He signified to me his intention of giving us
the reply when we again left the country. He received and dismissed us
standing, had coffee presented, and showed us other attentions, which
were afterwards carefully explained to me by D’Anastasi. Boghos Bey, his
confidential minister, was the only person present, nor did he seat
himself. Mohammed Ali showed himself brisk and youthful in his motions
and conversation; no weakness was to be seen in the countenance and
flashing eye of the old man of three-and-seventy springs. He spoke with
interest of his Nile expeditions, and assured us that he should continue
them until he had discovered the sources of the White River. To my
question concerning his museum in Cairo, he replied that it was not yet
very considerable; that many unjust requisitions were made of him in
Europe, in desiring rapid progress in his undertakings, for which he had
first to create the foundation, that had been prepared long since with
us in Europe. I touched but slightly on our excavations, and took his
permission for granted in conversation, expecting it to be soon given me
in due form.[2]

LETTER III.

CAIRO.
_October 16, 1842._

We were detained nearly fourteen days in Alexandria. The whole time went
in preparations for our journey; the Pasha I saw several times more, and
I found him ever favourably disposed towards our expedition. Our
scientific researches were inconsiderable. We visited the Pompeian
pillar, which, however, stands in no relation to Pompey, but, as the
Greek inscription on the base informs us, was erected to the Emperor
Diocletian by the Præfect Publius. The blocks of the foundation are
partly formed of the fragments of older buildings; on one of them the
throne-cartouche of the second Psammetichus was yet distinguishable.

The two obelisks, of which the one still standing is named Cleopatra’s
Needle, are much disintegrated on the weather side, and in parts have
become quite illegible.[4] They were erected by Tuthmosis III. in the
sixteenth century A.C.; at a later period, Ramses Miamun has inscribed
himself; and still later, on the outermost edges, another King, who was
found to be one, till now, totally unknown, and who was therefore
greeted by me with great joy. I must yet mention an interesting
collection of ethnographical articles and specimens of natural history
of every kind which have been collected by a native Prussian, Werne,[5]
on the second Nile expedition of the Pasha to the White River, in
countries hitherto quite unknown, and have been transported to
Alexandria but a few months ago. It appeared to me to be so important
and so unique of its kind that I have purchased it for our museum. While
we were yet there it was packed up for transport. I think it will be
welcome in Berlin.

At length the _bujurldis_ (passports) of the Pasha were ready, and now
we made haste to quit Alexandria. We embarked the same day that I
received them (on the 30th of September), on the Mahmoudîeh canal.
Darkness surprised us ere we could finish our preparations. At 9 o’clock
we left our hotel, in the spacious and beautiful Frank’s Place, in M.
D’Anastasi’s two carriages; before us were the customary runners with
torches. The gate was opened at the word that was given us; our packages
had been transported to the bark several hours before upon camels, so
that we could soon depart in the roomy vessel which I had hired in the
morning. The Nile, into which we ran at Atfeh, rolled somewhat
considerable waves, as there was a violent and unfavourable wind.
Sailing is not without danger here, particularly in the dark, as the two
customary pointed sails, like the wings of a bee, are easily blown down
at every gust; therefore I advised the sailors to stop, which they did
every night when it was stormy.

Next day, the 2nd of October, we landed at Sâ el Hager to visit the
remains of ancient Saïs, that city of the Psammetiche so celebrated for
its temple to Minerva. Scarcely anything exists of it but the walls,
built of bricks of Nile earth, and the desolate ruins of the houses:
there are no remains of any stone buildings with inscriptions. We paced
the circumference of the city and took a simple plan of the locality. In
the northwestern portion of the city her Acropolis once stood, which is
still to be distinguished by higher mounds of rubbish. We stopped the
night at Nekleh. I have the great charts of the _Description de
l’Egypte_ with me, on which we could follow almost every step of our
trips. We found them, till now, very faithful everywhere.

On the 3rd we landed on the western bank, in order to see the remains of
the ancient canal of Rosetta, and afterward spent nearly the whole of
the afternoon in examining the ruins of an old city near Naharîeh; no
walls are now visible, only rubbish-mounds remain; but we found in the
houses of the new town, several stones bearing inscriptions, and mostly
used for thresholds, originally belonging to a temple of King
Psammetichus I. and Apries (Hophre). Next night, we stopped on the
western shore near Teirîeh, and landed there the next morning, to seek
for some ruins situated at about an hour’s distance, but from which we
obtained nothing. The Libyan desert approaches quite close to the Nile
here, for the first time, and gave us a novel, well-to-be-remembered
prospect.

On the following morning we first perceived the great pyramids of
Memphis rising up above the horizon: I could not turn my eyes away from
them for a long time. We were still on the Rosetta branch; at noon we
came to the so-called Cow’s Belly, where the Nile divides into its two
principal arms. Now, for the first time, could we overlook the stately,
wonderful river, resembling no other in its utmost grandeur, which rules
the lives and manners of the inhabitants of its shores by its fertile
and well-tasting waters. Toward the beginning of October it attains its
greatest height. But this year there is an inundation like none that has
been known for generations. People begin to be afraid of the dykes
bursting, which would be the second plague brought upon Egypt in this
year, after the great cattle murrain, which down to last week had
carried off forty thousand head of cattle.

About five o’clock in the evening we arrived at Bulaq, the port of
Cairo; we rode immediately from the harbour to the city, and prepared
for a longer residence in this place. By-the-by, that we should say
Cairo, and the French _le Caire_, is a manifest error. The town is now
never called by any name but Mas’r by the Arabs, and so also the
country; it is the ancient Semetic, more euphonious for us in the dual
Mis’raim. First, at the foundation of the present city in the tenth
century, New Mas’r was distinguished from the ancient Mas’r el Atîgeh,
the present Old Cairo, by the addition of El Qâhireh, _i. e._ “the
Victorious.” The Italians omitted the _h_, unpronounceable in their
language, took the Arabic article _el_ for their masculine _il_, and so
considered the whole word, by its ending too, a masculine.

The holy month of the Mohammedans, the Ramadan, was just beginning,
during which they take no sustenance throughout the day, nor do they
drink water or “drink smoke;” and accept no visits, but begin all the
business of life after sundown, and thus interchange day and night,
which caused us no little trouble on account of our Arab servants. Our
Khawass (the honorary guard of the Pasha that had been given us), who
had missed the time for embarking at Alexandria, joined us here. As our
Prussian Vice-consul was unwell, I addressed myself to the Austrian
Consul, Herr Champion, to whom I had been recommended by Ehrenberg,
regarding our presentations to the representative of the Pasha at this
place. He interested himself for us with the greatest alacrity and zeal,
and obtained us a good reception everywhere. The official visits, at
which Erbkam and Bonomi mostly accompanied me, had to be made in the
evening at about 8 o’clock, on account of the Ramadan. Our torch-bearers
ran first, then came, on donkeyback, first the Dragoman of the Consul
and the Khawass of the Pasha, and lastly ourselves in stately
procession. We nearly traversed the whole town, through the Arab-filled
streets, picturesquely lighted by our firebrands, to the citadel, where
we first visited Abbas Pasha,[6] a grandson of Mahomet Ali; he is the
governor of Cairo, though seldom in residence. From him we proceeded to
Sherif Pasha, the lieutenant of Abbas, and then to the war minister,
Ahmet Pasha. Everywhere we were received with great kindness.

The day after my arrival I received a diploma as an honorary member of
the Elder Egyptian Society, of which the younger one, that had sent me a
similar invitation while in London, was a branch. Both had meetings, but
I could only attend the sittings of one, in which an interesting memoir
by Krapf, on certain nations of Central Africa, was read. The
particulars had been given him by a native of the Enarea country, who
had travelled into the Doko country in commercial pursuits, and who
described the people in much the same way that Herodotus does the Libyan
dwarf-nation, after the narrations of the Nasamoneans, viz., as little
people of the size of children of ten or twelve years of age. One would
think that monkeys were spoken of. As the geographical notices of the
till now almost unknown Doko country are of interest, I have had the
whole paper copied, to send it, together with the little map that
belongs to it, to our honoured friend Ritter.[7]

On the 13th of October we made a trip to the ruins of Heliopolis, the
Biblical On, whence Joseph took his wife Asnath, the daughter of a
priest. Nothing remains of this celebrated city, which prided itself on
possessing the most learned priesthood next to Thebes, but the walls,
which resemble great banks of earth, and an obelisk standing upright,
and perhaps in its proper position. This obelisk possesses the peculiar
charm of being by far the most ancient of all known obelisks; for it was
erected during the Old Empire by King Sesurtesen I., about 2,300 B.C.;
the broken obelisk in the Faîum near Crodilopolis, bearing the name of
the same king, being rather an obelisk-like long-drawn stele. Boghos Bey
has obtained the ground on which the obelisk stands as a present, and
has made a garden round it. The flowers of the garden have attracted a
quantity of bees, and these could find no more commodious lodging than
in the deep and sharply cut hieroglyphics of the obelisk. Within the
year they have so covered the inscriptions of the four sides, that a
great part has become quite illegible. It had, however, already been
published, and our comparison of it presented few difficulties, as
three sides bear the same inscription, and the fourth is only slightly
varied.

Yesterday, the 15th of October, was His Majesty’s birthday. I had
determined on this day for our first visit to the great pyramid. There
we would hold a festival in remembrance of our king and country with a
few friends. We invited the Austrian Consul Champion, the Prussian
Consul Bokty, our learned countryman Dr. Pruner, and MM. Lieder,
Isenberg, Mühleisen, and Krapf to this party, at which, however, it is
to be regretted that some were not able to assist.

The morning was indescribably beautiful, fresh, and festal. We rode in
long procession through the quiet streets, and along the green alleys
and gardens that are planted outside it. Almost in every place where
there were well-tended plantations, we found that they had been laid out
by Ibrahim Pasha. By all accounts, he appears to adorn and repair every
portion of the country.

They were incomparable minutes, those, when we came forth from among the
dates and acacias; the sun rising to the left behind the Moqattam
Mountains, and illumining the heads of the pyramids opposite, that lay
before in the plain like giant mountain crystals. All of us were
enraptured by the glory and greatness of this morning scene, and
solemnly impressed by it. At Old Cairo we were ferried across the Nile
to the village of Gizeh, whence the larger pyramids receive the name of
Háram el Gizeh. From here one may ride to the pyramids in the dry
season in a direct line for an hour of little more. As, however, the
inundation is now at its highest point, we were obliged to make a great
circuit upon long embankments, coming almost up to Saqâra, and did not
arrive at the foot of the great pyramid for five and a half hours.

The long and unexpected ride gave a relish to the simple breakfast that
we immediately took in one of the tombs cut in the rock here about five
thousand years ago, in order to strengthen us for the ascent. Meanwhile
a spacious gaily-decked tent came down, which I had hired in Cairo. I
had it pitched on the north side of the pyramid, and had the great
Prussian standard, the black eagle with a golden sceptre and crown, and
a blue sword, on a white ground, which had been prepared by our artists
within these last few days, planted before the door of the tent.

About thirty Bedouins had assembled around us in the interval, and
awaited the moment when we should commence the ascent of the pyramid, in
order to assist us with their powerful brown arms to climb the steps,
about three to four feet in height. Scarcely had the signal for
departure been given, ere each of us was surrounded by several Bedouins,
who tore us up the rough steep path to the apex like a whirlwind. A few
minutes afterward our flag floated from the top of the oldest and
highest of all the works of man with which we are acquainted, and we
saluted the Prussian eagle with three cheers for our king. Flying toward
the south, the eagle turned its crowned head homeward to the north,
whence a fresh breeze was blowing, and diverting the effects of the hot
rays of the noontide sun. We too, looked homeward, and each remembered,
aloud, or quietly within his own heart, those whom he had left behind,
loving and beloved.

Next, the prospect at our feet enchained our attention. On one side is
the valley of the Nile, a wide ocean of inundated waters, which,
intersected by long and serpentine embankments, broken now and then by
island-like high-lying villages, and overgrown tongues of land, filled
the whole plain of the vale, and reached to the opposite mountain chain
of Moqattam, on the most northerly point of which the citadel of Cairo
rises above the town lying beneath. On the other side, the Libyan
desert, a still more wonderful ocean of sand and desolate rock-hills,
boundless, colourless, soundless, animated by no beast, no plant, no
trace of human presence, not even by graves; and between both is the
desecrated Necropolis, the general plan and the particular outlines of
which unfolded themselves sharply and plainly, as upon a map.

What a landscape! and with our view of it what a flood of reminiscences!
When Abraham came to Egypt for the first time, he saw these pyramids
which had been built many centuries before his arrival; in the plain
before us lay ancient Memphis, the residence of those kings on whose
graves we were standing; there lived Joseph, and ruled the land under
one of the mightiest and wisest Pharaohs of the New Empire. Farther on,
to the left of the Moqattam Mountains, where the fertile plain borders
the eastern arm of the Nile, on the other side of Heliopolis,
distinguishable by its obelisk, begins the fruitful country of Goshen,
whence Moses led his people forth to the Syrian wilderness. Indeed, it
would not be difficult to recognise from our position, that ancient
fig-tree, on the way to Heliopolis, by Matarîeh, beneath the shade of
which, according to the legends of the land, Mary rested with the Holy
Child. How many thousands of pilgrims from all nations have sought these
wonders of the world before our days,--we, the youngest in time, and yet
only the predecessors of many thousands more who will come after us, and
behold, and climb these pyramids, with astonishment. I will describe no
farther the thoughts and feelings that came flooding in at those
moments; there, at the aim and end of the wishes of many long years, and
yet at the actual commencement of our expedition; there, on the apex of
the Pyramid of Cheops, to which the first link of our whole monumental
history is fastened immoveably, not only for Egyptian, but for universal
history; there, where I saw beneath the remarkable grave-field whence
the Moses-rod of science summons forth the shadows of the ancient dead,
and lets them pass before us in the mirror of history, according to rank
and age, with their names and titles, with all their peculiarities,
customs, and associations.

After I had narrowly scanned the surrounding graves, with the intention
of selecting some spots for future excavations, we descended once more
to the entrance of the pyramid, procured lights, entered the slanting
shaft with some guides, like miners, and reached the gallery by ways I
well knew by drawings, and at the so-called King’s Chamber. Here we
admired the infinitely fine joinings of the monster blocks, and examined
the geological formation of the passages and spaces. Then we commenced
our Prussian national hymn in the spacious saloon, the floor, walls, and
ceiling of which are built of granite, and therefore return a sounding
metal echo; and so powerful and solemn was the harmony, that our guides
afterward reported to the other Bedouins outside, that we had selected
the innermost recesses of the pyramid, in order to give forth a loud and
universal prayer. We then visited the so-called Queen’s Chamber, and
then left the pyramid, reserving the examination of the more intricate
passages for a future and longer visit.

In the mean time our orientally-decked tent had been put in order, and a
dinner prepared within, in which Prussians only took part, with the
exception of our two English companions. That our first toast here was
“His Majesty and the Royal family” need not be told; and no great
eloquence was necessary to render all hearts enthusiastic in drinking
it.

The rest of the day passed in gay, festal, and hearty reminiscences and
conversations, till the time of our departure arrived. We had yet to
wait a quarter of an hour after sunset, to give our attendants,
donkey-drivers, and the rest of our Arab suite, time to eat their
frugal dinner, which they had not yet taken, despite all the heat and
labour of the day, in consequence of the Ramadan. Then the bright full
moon guided us in the cool still night over the sand and water ocean,
through villages and plantations of date-trees, back to the city. We did
not arrive there until about midnight.

LETTER IV.

AT THE FOOT OF THE GREAT PYRAMID.
_January 2, 1843._

Still here! in full activity since the 9th of November, and perhaps to
continue so for some weeks of the new year! How could I have anticipated
from the accounts of previous travellers, what a harvest we were to reap
here,--here, on the oldest stage of the chronologically definable
history of mankind. It is remarkable how little this most-frequented
place of all Egypt has been examined hitherto. But I will not quarrel
with our predecessors, since we inherit the fruits of their inactivity.
I have been obliged the rather to restrain our curiosity to see more of
this wonder-land, as we may half solve the problem at this place. On the
best charts of former times, two graves have peculiar designations,
beside the pyramids. Rosellini has only examined one grave more, and
Champollion says in his letters, “_Il y a peu à faire ici, et lorsqu’on
aura copié des scenes de la vie domestique, sculptées dans un tombeau,
je regagnerai nos embarcations!_” [There is little to be done here, and
when they have copied the scenes of domestic life sculptured in one
tomb, I shall regain our vessels.] We have given in our exact
topographical plan of the whole Necropolis forty-five graves, with whose
inmates I have become acquainted by their inscriptions, and I have
enumerated eighty-two in all, which seemed worthy of notice on account
of their inscriptions, or some other peculiarities.[8] Of these but few
belong to the later time; nearly all of them were erected during or
shortly after the building of the great pyramid, and therefore present
us with an inestimable series of dates for the knowledge of the oldest
definable civilisation of the races of man. The architecture of that
age, concerning which I could formerly offer only a few speculations,[9]
now lies before me in the fullest circumstantiality. Nearly all the
branches of architecture are to be found developed; sculptures of
complete figures of all dimensions, in haut-relief and bas-relief,
present themselves in the most astonishing variety. The style is very
marked and finely executed, but it is clear that the Egyptians had not
then that peculiar canon of proportion which we find universally at a
later period.[10] The painting on the fine plaster is often more
beautiful than could be expected, and occasionally exhibits the
freshness of yesterday in perfect preservation. The subjects on the
walls are usually representations of scenes from the life of departed
persons, and seem mostly intended to place their riches, cattle, fish,
boats, hunts, and servants, before the eyes of the observer. Through
them we become acquainted with every particular of their private life.
The numerous inscriptions describe or name these scenes, or they set
forth the often widely-extended family of the departed, and all his
offices and titles, so that I could almost write a Court and State
Directory of the time of King Cheops, or Chephren. The most stately
tombs or rock graves belonged chiefly to the princes, relations, or
highest officers of those kings near whose pyramids they are situated;
and not unfrequently I have found the graves of father, son, grandson,
and even great-grandson; so that whole genealogies of those
distinguished families, the nobility of the land fifty centuries ago,
may be formed. The most beautiful of the tombs, which I have discovered
among many others in the all-burying sand, belongs to a prince[11] of
King Cheops.

I employ forty to sixty people every day in excavations and similar
labours. Also before the great Sphinx I have had excavations made to
bring to light the temple between its paws, and to lay open the colossal
stele formed of one block of granite, eleven feet high and seven feet
broad, serving as a back wall to the temple, and covered to about its
own height with sand. It is one of the few memorials here of the great
Pharaohs of the New Empire, after the expulsion of the Hyksos. I have
had a plaster cast taken of it.

The Egyptian winter is not always so spring-like as one occasionally
imagines in Europe. At sunrise, when every one hurries to work, we have
already had +5° Réaumur, so that the artists could hardly use their
fingers.

Winter began with a scene that will ever remain impressed upon my
memory. I had ridden out to the excavations, and as I observed a great
black cloud coming up, I sent an attendant to the tents, to make them
ready against it, but soon followed him myself, as it began to rain a
little. Shortly after my arrival, a storm began, and I therefore had the
tent ropes made fast; soon, however, there came a pouring rain, that
frightened all our Arabs, and sent them trooping to the rock-tomb, where
our kitchen is situated. Of our party, Erbkam and Franke were only
present. Suddenly the storm grew to a tremendous hurricane, such as I
have never seen in Europe, and hail fell upon us in such masses, as
almost to turn day into night. I had the greatest difficulty in hunting
our Arabs out from the cavern, to bring our things to the tombs under
shelter, as we might expect the destruction of our tents at any moment;
and it was no long time ere first our common tent broke down, and then,
as I hurried from it into my own, to sustain it from the inside, that
also broke down above my head. When I had crept out, I found that my
things were tolerably well covered by the tents, so that I could leave
them for the present, but only to run a greater risk. Our tents lie in a
valley, whither the plateau of the pyramids inclines, and are sheltered
from the worst winds from the north and west. Presently I saw a dashing
mountain flood hurrying down upon our prostrate and sand-covered tents,
like a giant serpent upon its certain prey. The principal stream rolled
on to the great tent; another arm threatened mine, without quite
reaching it. But everything that had been washed from our tents by the
shower was torn away by the two streams, which joined behind the tents,
and carried into a pool behind the Sphinx, where a great lake
immediately formed, which fortunately had no outlet.

Just picture this scene to yourself! our tents, dashed down by the storm
and heavy rain, lying between two mountain torrents, thrusting
themselves in several places to the depth of six feet into the sand, and
depositing our books, drawings, sketches, shirts, and instruments--yes,
even our levers and iron crowbars; in short, every thing they could
seize, in the dark, foaming, mud ocean. Besides this, ourselves wet to
the skin, without hats, fastening up the weightier things, rushing after
the lighter ones, wading into the lake to the waist to fish out what the
sand had not yet swallowed; and all this was the work of a quarter of an
hour, at the end of which the sun shone radiantly again, and announced
the end of this flood by a bright and glorious rainbow.

It was difficult to see at once what we had lost, and where we ought to
begin to bring things into order again. The two Weidenbachs and Frey had
observed the whole scene from the tombs where they were at work, as a
mighty drama of nature, and without even dreaming of the mischances that
had happened to us, until I sent for them to assist in preparing for the
quickly-approaching night. For several more days we fished and dug for
our things. Some things were lost, many were spoilt; the greater part of
all the things that were not locked up inside chests or trunks bore at
least more or fewer marks of this flood. After all, there was nothing of
much importance lost; I had first secured the great portfolios, together
with my manuscripts and books; in short, after a few days the whole
thing took the form of a remarkable picture, leaving no unpleasant
reminiscence, and of which I should grudge my memory the loss.

Since then, we have suffered much from violent gales, that occasionally
so fill the atmosphere with sand that respiration is rendered difficult,
painting with colours is totally precluded, and drawing and writing
paper is continually covered with a most disagreeable, ever-renewed
dust. This fine sand penetrates one’s clothes, enters all our boxes,
even when most closely shut, fills one’s nose, ears, hair, and is the
unavoidable pepper to every dish and drink.

_January 5._ On the evening of the first Christmas holiday, I surprised
my companions by a large bonfire, which I had lighted at the top of the
greatest pyramid. The flame shone magnificently upon the two other
pyramids, as well as on the Necropolis, and threw its light far over the
dale to Cairo. That was a Christmas pyramid! I had only confided the
secret to Abeken, who had arrived, with his ever merry humour and his
animated and instructive conversation, upon the 10th of December. With
his assistance I prepared something for the following night, in the
Royal Chamber of the Great Pyramid. We planted a young palm-tree in the
sarcophagus of the ancient king, and adorned it with lights and little
presents that I had sent for from the city for us children of the
wilderness. Saint Sylvester also must receive due honour. On New Year’s
eve, at midnight, there arose mighty flames from the heights of the
three great pyramids, and announced, far and wide in the regions of
Islâm, at their feet, the change of the Christian year.[12]

I consider it a proper mental diet for our company to break and
interrupt our laborious, and, for the artists, very monotonous
occupations, not only by the hebdomadal rest of Sunday, but also by
pleasant parties of pleasure and gay festivals, as often as opportunity
will admit. As yet, the harmony and good humour of our society have not
been disturbed by the slightest echo of discord; and they gain new
strength every day, as well by the fulness of our novel impressions and
the reciprocal tastes and natures of our companions, as by the obstacles
and hardships of this Bedouin life.

How manifold the elements of our community are, you may perceive by the
true Babel of languages in which we are ever moving. The English
language is sufficiently represented by our companions, Wild and Bonomi;
French and Italian serve as a medium of communication with the
authorities, our chance guests, and the Levantine merchants; in Arabic
we command, eat, and travel; and in very capital German we consult,
chatter, sing, and live. As long as it is day we are generally each
alone, and uninterruptedly at work. The morning coffee is drunk before
sunrise; after sunset, dinner is served; and we breakfast while at work.
Thus our artists have been already enabled to prepare a hundred great
folio leaves, partly executed in lead, partly finished off in colours,
for our swelling portfolios.

LETTER V.

PYRAMIDS OF GIZEH.
_January 17, 1843._

The inscription composed in commemoration of the birthday festival of
His Majesty has become a stone tablet, after the manner of the ancient
steles and proscynemata. Here it is:--

[Illustration]

and its contents, which, the more they assimilate with the Egyptian
style, become proportionately awkward in the German, are as follows:--

“Thus speak the servants of the King, whose name is the Sun and Rock of
Prussia, Lepsius the scribe, Erbkam the architect, the brothers
Weidenbach the painters, Frey the painter, Franke the former, Bonomi the
sculptor, Wild the architect:--Hail to the Eagle, Shelterer of the
Cross, the King, the Sun and Rock of Prussia, the son of the Sun, freer
of the land, Frederick William the Fourth, the Philopator, his country’s
father, the gracious, the favourite of wisdom and history, the guardian
of the Rhine stream, chosen by Germany, the giver of life. May the
highest God grant the King and his wife, the Queen Elisabeth, the
life-rich one, the Philometor, her country’s mother, the gracious, a
fresh-springing life on earth for long, and a blessed habitation in
Heaven for ever. In the year of our Saviour 1842, in the tenth month,
and the fifteenth day, on the seven and fortieth birthday of His
Majesty, on the pyramid of King Cheops; in the third year, the fifth
month, the ninth day of the Government of His Majesty; in the year 3164
from the commencement of the Sothis period under King Menephthes.”

Upon a large and expressly hewn and prepared stone, at some height, by
the entrance to the Pyramid of Cheops, we have left the hieroglyphical
inscription upon a space of five feet in breadth, and four feet in
height, painted in with oil-colours.

It seemed good to me, that the Prussian Expedition, while it dedicated
this tablet to the much-respected prince who had sent the Expedition
hither, should leave some trace of its activity in this field, where it
had been reserved for that enterprise to gather in the plenteous
materials for the first chapter of all scientific history.

Do not imagine, however, that these are the weighty labours that have
kept us so long here. It is from the advantage which we possess over
former travellers that places like these have the right to detain us
until we have exhausted them. We already know that the grand ruins of
the Thebaïc plain cannot discover anything to us of similar interest to
the Memphitic period of the Old Empire.

At some time we must of course leave off, and then always with the
certainty that we leave much behind us, of the greatest interest, that
has still to be won. I had already determined upon our departure some
days since, when a row of tombs were discovered of a new period, a new
architecture, a new style in the figures and hieroglyphics, with other
titles, and, as it might have been expected, with other royal names.

Our historical gain is by no means perfected, nor is it even general. I
was quite right in giving up the task of reconstructing the third
dynasty after monuments, while in Europe. Nor have I yet found a single
cartouche that can be safely assigned to a period previous to the fourth
dynasty. The builders of the Great Pyramid seem to assert their right to
form the commencement of monumental history, even if it be clear that
they were not the first builders and monumental writers. We have already
found some hitherto unknown cartouches and variants of others, such
as:--

[Illustration:

Keka.
Heraku.
Useskef.
Ana.
]

The name that I have hitherto treated as Amchura shows, in the complete
and painted inscriptions, which throw not a little light upon the
figurative meanings of the hieroglyphic writings, a totally different
sign, to the well-known group, [Illustration: hieroglyph] _amchu_, viz.:
[Illustration: hieroglyph], the pronunciation of which is yet uncertain
to me.[13]

In the classification of the pyramids there is nothing to be altered. It
cannot be doubted, after our researches, that the second pyramid really
is to be assigned to Shafra (more correctly Chafra the Chephren of
Herodotus), as the first to Chufu (Cheops), and the third to Menkera
(Mycerinos, Mencherinos). I think I have found the path from the valley
to the second pyramid; it leads right up to its temple, by the Sphinx,
but was probably destroyed at an early period. The number of pyramids,
too, is continually increasing. At Abu Roash I have found three pyramids
in the place of that single one already known, and two fields of tombs;
also near Zauiet el Arrian, an almost forgotten village, there once
stood two pyramids, and a great field of ruins is adjoining. The careful
researches and measurements of Perring, in his fine work upon the
pyramids, save us much time and trouble. Therefore we could give
ourselves more to the tombs and their hieroglyphical paintings, which
are altogether wanting in the pyramids. But nothing is yet completed,
nothing is ripe for definitive arrangement, though comprehensive views
are now opened. Our portfolios begin to swell; much has been cast in
gypsum; among other things, the great stele of the first year of
Tuthmosis IV. between the paws of the Sphinx.

LETTER VI.

PYRAMIDS OF GIZEH.
_January 28, 1843._

I have ordered ten camels to come here to-morrow night, that we may
depart early, before sunrise, the day after, with our already somewhat
extensive collection of original monuments and gypsum casts, for Cairo,
where we shall deposit them until our return from the south. This will
be the commencement of our movement toward Saqâra. A row of very
recently discovered tombs, of the dynasties immediately following that
of Cheops, has once retarded our departure. The fifth dynasty, which
appears as an Elephantine contemporaneous dynasty in Africanus,[14] and
was not at all to be expected as such here, now lies completed before
us, and in general precisely as I had constructed it in Europe. The gaps
have been filled up with three kings, whose names were then unknown.
Also some kings, formerly hanging in mid-air, have been won for the
seventh and eighth dynasties, of which we had previously no monumental
names whatever. The proof of the fifth dynasty following the fourth
immediately would in itself richly recompense us for our stay of several
months at this place; and besides this, we have still much to do with
structures, sculptures, and inscriptions, which, by the continually
increasing certitude of the royal names, are formed into one cultivated
epoch, dating about the year 4000 B.C. One can never recall these till
now incredible dates too often to the memory of one’s-self and others;
the more criticism is challenged, and obliged to give a serious
examination to the matter, the better for the cause. Conviction will
follow criticism, and then we shall arrive at the consequences that are
linked with it in every branch of archæology.

With this letter you will receive a roll containing several drawings
which have been copied from the tombs here. They are splendid specimens
of the oldest architecture, sculpture, and painting that art-history has
to show, and the most beautiful and best preserved of all those that we
have found in the Necropolis. I hope we shall some day see these
chambers fully erected in the New Museum at Berlin.[15] They would
certainly be the most beautiful trophy that we could bring with us from
Egypt. Their transportation would probably be attended with some
difficulty; for you may judge by the dimensions that ordinary means will
not suffice to do it. I have therefore asked, in a letter addressed
directly to His Majesty the King, whether it would not be possible to
send a vessel next year, or at the close of the expedition, with some
workpeople and tools, in order to take these monuments to pieces more
carefully than we can do, and bring them with the rest of the
collections to Berlin.

Six of the enclosed leaves are drawings of a tomb which I myself
discovered under the sand, and the paintings of which are almost as
fresh and perfect as you may perceive them in the drawing.[16] It was
the last resting-place of Prince Merhet, who, as he was a priest of
Chufu (Cheops), named one of his sons Chufu-mer-nuteru, and possessed
eight villages, the names of which were compounded with that of Chufu;
and the position of the grave on the west side of the pyramid of Chufu,
as well as perfect identity of style in the sculptures, renders it more
than probable that Merhet was the son of Chufu, by which the whole
representations are rendered more interesting. This prince was also
“Superintendent-General of the royal buildings,” and thus had the rank
of Ober-hof Baurath (High Court-architect), a great and important post
in these times of magnificent architecture, and which we have often
found under the direction of princes and members of the royal family. It
is therefore to be conjectured that he also over-looked the building of
the Great Pyramid. Would not this alone have justified the undertaking
of transporting to Berlin the well-joined grave-chamber of this princely
architect, which will otherwise be destroyed at a longer or shorter
period by the Arabs, and built into their ovens, or burnt in their
kilns! There, at least, it would be preserved, and accessible for the
admiration or scientific ardour of the curious, as indeed European art
and science teaches us to respect and value such monuments. For its
re-erection it would require a width of 6 métres 30´, a height of 4 m.
60’, and a depth of 3 m. 80´; and such a space can certainly be reserved
for it in the New Museum.[17]

I must remark, in addition, that such chambers form only a very small
portion of the tomb, and were not intended for the mummy. The tomb of
Prince Merhet is more than 70 feet long, 45 broad, and 15 high. It is
massively constructed of great blocks of freestone, with slanting outer
surfaces. The chamber only is covered with rafters, and one, or in this
case two, square shafts lead from the flat roof through the building
into living rock, at the bottom of which, sixty feet below,
rock-chambers open at each side, in which the sarcophagi were placed.
The remains of the reverend skull of the Cheoptic prince, which I found
in his mummy-chamber, I have carefully preserved. To my sorrow we found
but little more, because this grave, like most of the others, has long
been broken into. Originally the entrance was closed with a stone slab.
Only the supersurfacial chamber remained open always, and was therefore
adorned with representations and inscriptions. Thither were brought the
offerings to the departed. It was dedicated to the religious belief of
the dead person, and thus answered to the temple that was built before
each pyramid for the adoration of its royal inmate. In the same way as
those temples, so these chambers always open to the east. The shafts,
like the pyramids, lie behind to the west, because the departed was
supposed to be in the west, whither he had gone with the setting sun to
Osiris in Amente.

Finally, the seventh leaf contains two pillars and their architrave,
from the tomb of a royal relative, who was also the prophet of four
kings, named Ptah-nefru-be’u. The grave was constructed at a later
period than that of Prince Merhet, in the fifth dynasty of Manetho.[18]
It belongs to a whole group of tombs, the architectural disposition and
intercommunication of which are very curious, and which I have therefore
laid quite open to the daylight, while before neither the entrance nor
anything else but the crown of the outer wall was to be seen.

I also send you the complete plan of it, besides that of the
neighbouring graves, but only think of bringing the architrave and the
two finely-painted pillars of the southern space, which may be easily
removed. On the architrave the legend of the departed is inscribed, who
is also represented on the four sides of the pillars in full size. In
front, on the north pillar, is seen the father of the dead person, Ami;
on the southern one is his grandfather, Aseskef-anch. The pillars are
about twelve feet in height, are slim, and are always without capitals,
but with an abacus.

At the tomb of Prince Merhet I have had the whole chamber isolated, but
have given up the design of taking it down for the present, as the
season is not the most favourable for transporting it. I have therefore
filled this grave and the other with sand, and to-morrow, on my arrival
in Cairo, I shall obtain an order interdicting the removal of any of the
stones of those tombs which we had opened. For it is most annoying to
see great caravans of camels coming hither from the neighbouring
villages, and going off in long strings loaded with slabs for building.
Fortunately,--for what is not fortunate under circumstances!--the lazy
Fellahs are rather attracted by the tombs of the age of the Psammetici
than by those of the older dynasties, the great blocks of which are not
handy enough for them. I am more seriously alarmed, however, for the
tombs of the fifth and seventh dynasties, which are built of more
moderately sized stones. Yesterday the robbers threw down a fine,
steady, fully-inscribed pillar when our backs were turned. Their efforts
to break it up seem not to have been successful. The people have become
so feeble here, that, with all their mischievous industry, their powers
are not sufficient to destroy what their mighty ancestors had raised.

Some days ago, we found, standing in its original place in a grave of
the beginning of the seventh dynasty, an obelisk of but a few feet in
height, but well preserved, and bearing the name of the person to whom
the tomb was erected. This form of monument, which plays so conspicuous
a part in the New Empire, is thus thrown some dynasties farther back
into the Old Empire than even the obelisk of Heliopolis.

LETTER VII.

SAQÂRA.
_March 18, 1843._

A short time ago, I made a trip, in company with Abeken and Bonomi, to
the more distant pyramids of Lisht and Meidûm. The latter interested me
particularly, as it has solved for me the riddle of pyramidal
construction, on which I had long been employed.[19] It lies almost in
the valley of the plain, close by the Bahr Jussuf, and is only just
removed from the level of inundation, but it towers so loftily and
grandly from the low neighbourhood that it attracts attention from a
great distance. From a casing of rubbish that surrounds almost the half
of it, to the height of 120 feet, a square, sharp-edged centre rises
after the manner of a tower, which lessens but little at the top, _i.
e._ in an angle of 74°. At the elevation of another 100 feet there is a
platform on which, in the same angle, stands a slenderer tower of
moderate height, which again supports the remains of a third elevation
in the middle of its flat upper side. The walls of the principal tower
are mostly polished, flat, but are interrupted by rough bands, the
reason of which seems hardly comprehensible. On a closer examination,
however, I found also within the half-ruined building, round the foot,
smoothened walls rising at the same angle as the tower, before which
there lay other walls, following each other like shells. At last I
discovered that the whole structure had proceeded from a little pyramid,
which had been built in steps to about the height of 40 feet, and had
then been enlarged and raised in all directions by a stone casing of 15
to 20 feet in breadth, till at last the great steps were filled out to a
surface, and the whole received the usual pyramidal form.

This gradual accumulation explains the monstrous size of single pyramids
among so many smaller ones. Each king commenced the construction of his
pyramid at his accession; he made it but small at first, in order to
secure himself a perfect grave even if his reign should be but short.
With the passing years of his government, however, he enlarged it by
adding outer casings, until he thought himself near the end of his days.
If he died during the erection of it, the outermost casing only was
finished, and thus the size of the pyramid stood ever in proportion to
the length of the king’s reign. Had the other determinative relations
remained the same in the lapse of ages, one might have told off the
number of years of each monarch’s reign by the casings of the pyramids,
like the annual rings of trees.

Yet the great enigma of the bearded giant Sphinx remains unsolved! When
and by whom was this colossus raised, and what was its signification? We
must leave this question to be decided by our future and more fortunate
successors. It is almost half-buried in sand, and the granite stele of
eleven feet in height between his paws, forming alone the back wall of a
small temple erected here, was altogether concealed; for the immense
excavations which were undertaken by Caviglia, in 1818, have long since
tracelessly disappeared. By the labour of some sixty to eighty persons
for several days, we arrived almost at the base of the stele, which I
had immediately sketched, pressed in paper, and cast, in order to erect
it at Berlin. This stele, on which the Sphinx itself is represented, was
erected by Tuthmosis IV., and is dated in the first years of his
government; he must therefore have found the colossus there. We are
accustomed to find the Sphinx in Egypt used as the sign for a king, and,
indeed, usually as some particular king, whose features it would appear
to preserve, and therefore they are always Androsphinxes, with the
solitary exception of a female Sphinx, which represents the wife of King
Horus. In hieroglyphical writings the Sphinx is named Neb, “the Lord,”
and forms, among other instances, the middle syllable of the name of
King Necta-neb-us.

But what king is represented by the monster? It stands before the second
pyramid, that of Shafra (Chephren), not directly in the axis, but
parallel with the sides of the temple lying before it, and precisely as
if the northern rock by the Sphinx had been intended for a corresponding
sculpture; besides this, it was usual for Sphinxes, Rams, statues, and
obelisks, to be placed in pairs before the entrances of the temples.
What a mighty impression, however, would two such giant guardians,
between which the ancient pathway to the temple of Chephren led, have
made upon the approaching worshipper! They would have been worthy of
that age of colossal monuments, and in right proportions to the pyramid
behind. I cannot deny that this connection would best satisfy me. What
would have induced the Thebaïc kings of the eighteenth dynasty, the only
ones of the New Empire to be thought of, to adorn the Memphitic
Necropolis with such a world-wonder without any connection with its
surrounding objects? Add to this, that in an almost destroyed line of
the Tuthmosis stele, King Chephren is named; a portion of his royal
cartouche, unfortunately quite single, is yet preserved; it undoubtedly
had some reference to the builder of the pyramid lying behind it.

But the question again arises:--If King Chephren be here represented,
why does it not bear his name? On the contrary, it is named Har-em-chu,
“Horus in the horizon,” that is to say, the Sungod, the type of all
kings, and Harmachis, in a Greek inscription found before the Sphinx. It
does not seem at all unlikely to me, that upon this rests the fable of
Pliny, according to which a King Amasis (Armasis? Ἅρμαχις) lies interred
within the Sphinx;[20] for in a real burial there can be no belief.
Another consideration is that I have not found the representation of the
Sphinx in those most ancient times of the pyramid builders; but that
must not be accepted as conclusive, as the Sphinx is not often found in
the inscriptions and representations of the new empire.[21] In short,
the Œdipus for this king of all Sphinxes is yet wanting. Whoever would
drain the immeasurable sand-flood which buries the tombs themselves, and
lay open the base of the Sphinx, the ancient temple path, and the
surrounding hills, could easily decide it.

But with the enigmas of history there are joined many riddles and
wonders of nature, which I must not leave quite unnoticed. The newest of
all, at least, I must describe.

I had descended with Abeken into a mummy pit, to open some
newly-discovered sarcophagi, and was not a little astonished, upon
descending, to find myself in a regular snow-drift of locusts, which,
almost darkening the heavens, flew over our heads from the south-west
from the desert in hundreds of thousands to the valley. I took it for a
single flight, and called my companions from the tombs where they were
busy, that they might see this Egyptian wonder ere it was over. But the
flight continued; indeed the work-people said it had begun an hour
before. Then we first observed that the whole region near and far was
covered with locusts. I sent an attendant into the desert, to discover
the breadth of the flock. He ran for the distance of a quarter of an
hour, then returned and told us that, as far as he could see, there was
no end to them. I rode home in the midst of the locust shower. At the
edge of the fruitful plain they fell down in showers; and so it went on
the whole day till the evening, and so the next day from morning till
evening, and the third; in short, to the sixth day, indeed in weaker
flights much longer. Yesterday it did seem that a storm of rain in the
desert had knocked down and destroyed the last of them. The Arabs are
now lighting great fires of smoke in the fields, and clattering and
making loud noises all day long to preserve their crops from the
unexpected invasion. It will, however, do little good. Like a new
animated vegetation, these millions of winged spoilers cover even the
neighbouring sandhills, so that scarcely anything is to be seen of the
ground; and when they rise from one place, they immediately fall down
somewhere in the neighbourhood; they are tired with their long journey,
and seem to have lost all fear of their natural enemies, men, animals,
smoke, and noise, in their furious wish to fill their stomachs, and in
the feeling of their immense number. The most wonderful thing, in my
estimation, is their flight over the naked wilderness and the instinct
which has guided them from some oasis over the inhospitable desert to
the fat soil of the Nile vale. Fourteen years ago, it seems, this
Egyptian plague last visited Egypt with the same force. The popular idea
is, that they are sent by the comet which we have observed for twelve
days in the south-west, and which, as it is now no longer obscured by
the rays of the moon, stretches forth its stately tail across the
heavens in the hours of night. The zodiacal light, too, so seldom seen
in the north, has lately been visible for several nights in succession.

At this place have I first been able to settle my account with Gizeh,
and to put together the historical results of the investigation. I have
every reason to rejoice at the consequences; the fourth and fifth
dynasties are completed all except one king.

I have just received the rather illegible drawing of a stone in a wall
at the village of Abusir, which presents a row of kings of the fourth
and fifth dynasties, and, as it would seem, in chronological order. I am
on the point of riding over to see the original.

LETTER VIII.

SAQÂRA.
_April 13, 1843._

I hasten to inform you of an event which I should not like to be first
communicated to you from other quarters, and perhaps with distorted
exaggeration. Our camp was attacked and robbed a few nights since by an
armed band, but none of our party have been seriously hurt, and nothing
has been lost that is not to be replaced. The matter is past, and the
consequences can only be favourable to us; but I must first go back a
few days in my report.

On the 3rd of April, H.R.H. Prince Albrecht returned from Upper Egypt to
Cairo; next day I went to town and submitted a portion of our labours to
him, in which he took the more lively interest as he had already seen
more of the wonder-land than we, and had only omitted to visit the
pyramid fields. On his former arrival in Cairo I was absent with Abeken
and Bonomi on a journey of several days’ duration in the Faiûm. The
Prince came just in time for some Mohammedan festivals, which I should
have neglected but for his presence. On the sixth was the entrance of
the solemnly-welcomed caravan of pilgrims from Mecca, and a few days
later, the birthday festival of the prophet “Mulid e’Nebbi,” one of the
most original feasts throughout the Orient. The principal parts fall to
the share of the Derwishes, who arrange processions during the day, and
in the evening exhibit their terrible dance named Sikr in the
gaily-lighted tents erected among the trees of the Ezbekîeh; thirty to
forty of this religious sect place themselves in a circle, and begin to
move their bodies backward and forward, according to the time, first
slowly, and then more violently, at last with the most cruel strains
upon the nerves; at the same time they repeat their maxim rhythmically
with a loud howling voice, “_Lâ ilâha ill’ Allah_” (no God but Allah),
gradually lowering and softening the tone until it is resembles a faint
snore: at length, their powers wholly exhausted, some fall down, others
withdraw reelingly, and the broken circle, after a short pause, is
replaced by another.

What a fearful, barbarous worship, which the astounded multitude, great
and small, gentle and simple, gaze upon seriously and with stupid
respect, and in which it not unfrequently takes a part! The invoked
deity is manifestly much less an object of reverence than the
fanatic saints who invoke him; for mad, idiotic, or other
psychologically-diseased persons, are very generally looked upon as holy
by the Mohammedans, and treated with great respect. It is the
demoniacal, incomprehensibly-acting, and therefore fearfully-observed
power of nature, that the natural man always reveres when he perceives
it, because he is sensible of some connection between it and his
intellectual power, without being able to command it; first in the
mighty elements, then in the wondrous but obscure law-governed
instincts of animals, and, at last, in the yet more overpowering
exstatical, or generally abnormal mental condition of his own race. We
must decidedly look upon the Egyptian animal-worship, as far as it was
not the covering for deeper and more refined doctrines, as resting upon
the same idea of a worship of nature;[22] and the reverence occasionally
manifesting itself among some nations of mentally-diseased men may be
regarded as a curious branch of the same feeling. Whether such
conditions really exist, or whether, as with the _derwishes_, they are
artificially produced and purposely fostered, is not criticised by the
masses, and it is much the same in individual cases. In such a presence
one would feel oneself overcome by a mysterious feeling of dread, and
would not care to express repugnance, or even to manifest it by signs,
or by a token of having even observed anything, for fear of diverting to
oneself the storm of brute passion.

The nine days’ festival closes with a peculiar ceremony called _doseh_,
the treading, but which I was myself prevented from witnessing. The
sheîkh of the Saadîeh-_derwishes_ rides to the chief sheîkh of all the
_derwishes_ of Egypt, El Bekri. On the way thither, a great number of
these holy folk, and others too, who fancy themselves not a whit
behindhand in piety, throw themselves flat on the ground, with their
faces downward, and so that the feet of one lie close to the head of the
next; over this living carpet, the sheikh rides on his horse, which is
led on each side by an attendant, in order to compel the animal to the
unnatural march. Each man’s body receives two treads of the horse; most
of them jump up again without hurt, but whoever suffers serious, or, as
it occasionally happens, mortal injury, has the additional ignominy to
bear, for not having pronounced, or for not being able to pronounce, the
proper prayers and magical charms that alone could save him.[23]

On the 7th of April, I and Erbkam accompanied the prince to the
pyramids, and first to those of Gizeh. The pyramid of Cheops was
ascended, and the inside visited; the beautiful tomb of Prince Merhet I
had had laid open for the purpose of showing it. Then we left for our
camp at Saqâra.

Here we heard that a barefaced robbery had been committed in Abeken’s
tent the night before. While he was asleep, with a light burning, after
his return from Cairo, his knapsack, pistols, and a few other matters
lying about, were stolen; as the thief was departing, a noise was
perceived by the guard, but the darkness precluded all pursuit.

After the prince had inspected the most beautiful tomb of Saqâra, we
rode across the plain to Mitrahinneh to visit the mound of Memphis, and
the half-buried colossus of Ramses Miamun (Sesostris), the face of which
is almost perfectly preserved.[24] Late at night, we arrived again in
Cairo, after sixteen hours of motion, scarcely interrupted by short
pauses of rest; the unusual fatigue, however, rather raised the lively
taste for travelling in the prince’s mind than otherwise.

The next day the mosques of the city were visited, which are partly
worthy of notice for their magnificence, and are partly of interest in
the history of mediæval art on account of the earliest specimen of the
general application of the pointed arch. The questions touching this
characteristic architectural branch of the so-called Gothic style had
employed me so much some years ago, that I could not avoid pursuing the
old traces; the pointed arch is found in the oldest mosques up to the
ninth century. With the conquest of Sicily by the Arabs, this form of
the arch was carried over to the island, where the next conquerors, the
Normans, found it in the eleventh century, and were led to employ it
much. To deny some historical connection between the Norman pointed arch
of Palermo and our northern style appears to me to be impossible; the
admission of such a connection would certainly render it more difficult
to explain of the sporadically but not lawlessly used rows of pointed
arches which occur in the cathedral of Naumburg in the eleventh century,
and at Memleben already in the tenth. The theorists will not yet admit
this; but I must await the confutation of these reasons.[25]

The Nilometer on the island of Roda, which we visited after the mosques,
also contains a row of pointed arches, which belong to the original
building, going back to the ninth century, as the carefully-examined
Kufic inscriptions testify.

Egypt does not only lay claim to the oldest employment, and therefore
probable invention, of the pointed arches, but also upon that of the
circular arch.[26] Near the pyramids a group of tombs may be seen, the
single blocks of which manifest the proper concentric way of cutting.
They belong to the twenty-sixth Manethonic dynasty of the Psammetici,
_i. e._ in the seventh and sixth centuries B.C., are therefore of about
the same antiquity as the _Cloaca maxima_ and the _Carcer Mamertinus_ at
Rome. We have also found tombs with vaults of Nile bricks, that go back
as far as the era of the pyramids. Now I deny, in contradistinction to
the opinion of others, that the brick arch, the single flat bricks of
which are only placed concentrically by the aid of the trowel, admits of
a previous knowledge of the actual principle of the arch, and
particularly with respect to its sustaining power, of which denial there
is already proof in the fact that before the Psammetici there is no
instance of a concentrically laid arch, but many pseudo-arches, cut, as
it were, in horizontal layers. But where the brick arch was ancient, we
may also most naturally place the origin of the later concentric stone
arch, or at least admit of its appearing contemporaneously in other
lands.

I was about to accompany the prince the next morning to the interesting
institution of Herr Lieder, when Erbkam unexpectedly arrived from our
camp. He reported that on the previous night, between three and four
o’clock A.M., a number of shots were suddenly fired in the neighbourhood
of our tents, and at the same time a crowd of more than twenty people
rushed into the encampment. Our tents stand on a small surface before
the rock tombs, which are excavated half-way up the steep wall of the
Libyan Vale, and have a considerable terrace in front, formed by the
rubbish. Almost the only way in which it was to be approached was on one
side by a gorge that passes down from above by our tents. Thence the
attack was made. It was first directed against the tent which served as
a _salōn_ for our whole society. This soon fell down in a mass. Then
followed the other great tent in which slept Erbkam, Frey, Ernst
Weidenbach, and Franke. This was also torn down, and covered up its
inhabitants, who had great difficulty in creeping out from among the
ropes and tent-cloths. Besides this, all the guns had been placed in one
tent together on the previous day, at the visit of the prince, and
fastened to the centre pole, so that they were not at hand. The guards,
cowardly in the extreme, and knowing that they had made themselves
liable to punishment, even if such a thing had happened without their
being in fault, immediately fled with loud cries in every direction, and
have not yet returned. The thieves now stuck to what was nearest at
hand, rolled everything they could lay hold of down the hill, and were
soon lost in the plains below. Their shots had evidently been blank, for
no one had been hurt by them; but they had gained their object of
rendering the confusion greater. Only Ernst Weidenbach and a few of our
attendants were wounded in the head or shoulders by blows from
gunstocks, bludgeons, or stones, but they were none of them dangerous.
The things stolen will have bitterly disappointed the expectation of the
thieves. The great trunks scarcely contained anything but European
clothes and other things that no Arab can use. A number of coloured
sketches is most to be regretted, the artistical Sunday amusement of the
talented Frey.

We are perfectly aware of the quarter whence this attack originated. We
live on the frontier of the territory of Abusir, an Arab village long
bearing but a doubtful reputation, between Kafr-el-Batran, at the foot
of the pyramids of Gizeh and Saqâra. By Arabs (_’Arab_, pl. _’Urbân_) I
mean, according to custom, those inhabitants of the land who have
settled in the valley of the Nile, at a late period, and have built
villages with some show of right. They distinguish themselves very
markedly, by their free origin and manlier character, from the Fellahs
(_Fellah‘_, pl. _Fellah‘in_), those original tillers of the soil, who,
by centuries of slavery, have been pressed down and enervated, and who
could not withstand the invading Islam. A Bedouin (_Bedaui_, pl.
_Bedauîn_) is ever the free son of the desert, hovering upon the coasts
of the inhabited lands. Along the pyramids, therefore, there are
situated a number of Arab villages. To them belong the three places
named above. The sheikh of Abusir, a young, handsome, and enterprising
man, had a kind of claim, by the reason of our camp lying on his border,
to post a number of excellently-paid guards around us. I preferred,
however, to withdraw ourselves to the protection of the sheîkh of
Saqâra, a mightier man and more to be relied on, whom I had previously
known, and to whose district the larger portion of the scene of our
labours belonged. This determination cost the people of Abusir a
service, and us their friendship, as I had already observed for some
time without troubling myself further about it. Evidently, they had now
taken advantage of my absence in Cairo, with several attendants, to
carry out this design. To Abusir the traces led through the plain; a
little active boy, the grandson of an old Turk of the Mameluke time, the
only stranger dwelling in Abusir, with whom we occasionally changed
visits, seems to have served as a spy. This boy, who was often in our
camp, must have carried out the first robbery, in Abukir’s tent, with
which he was well acquainted.

The attack was a serious matter, and a precedent for the future, if it
were left unpunished. I immediately went with Herr von Wagner to Sherif
Pasha, the minister, in order to discover the thieves.

In a few days the plain beneath our camp wore an animated appearance.
The Mudhir (governor) of the province came, with a magnificent train,
and a great flock of under-officers and servants, and pitched his varied
camp at the foot of the mountain. We interchanged visits of politeness,
and conversed upon the event. The Mudhir told me at once that the actual
thieves would never be discovered, at least never brought to
confession, as each one knew that it would cost him his neck. But the
second day the sheikhs of Saqâra and Abusir, with a number of suspected
persons, were brought up to be judged. Neither confrontation nor
examination succeeded in obtaining any decision, as it was expected. The
punishment was therefore summarily executed; one after the other they
were shut in the stocks, with their faces down and their soles up, and
pitifully beaten, often to fainting, with long whips, called kurwatch,
the thongs of which are strips of hippopotamus skin. It was in vain that
I represented that I really saw no reason for punishing these persons
precisely, and I was still more astonished when our reverend old friend
the sheîkh of Saqâra, for whose innocence I had pledged my strongest
belief, was led down and laid in the dust like all the others. I
expressed my surprise to the Mudhir, and protested seriously against it,
but received for answer that the punishment could not be spared him, for
though we had not been exactly upon his soil, yet we had received our
guides from him, who had run away, and until now had not returned. With
much difficulty I obtained a shortening of the proceeding, but he was
already scarcely sensible, and he had to be carried to the tent, where
his feet were bound up. The whole matter ended with an indemnification
in money for the worth of the stolen things, which I purposely estimated
at a large sum, as every loss in money remains for years in the memory
of the Arab, while he forgets his thrashing, or, indeed, exults in it,
when he no longer feels it. “_Nezel min e’ semmâ e’ nebût, bárakah min
Allah_,” say the Arabs, _i.e._ “Down came the stick from heaven, a
blessing of Allah.” Even at the proportioning of the fine, the sum we
had asked was so divided that the rich sheikh of Saqâra had to pay a
much larger share than he of Abusir, a partiality in which the request
of the respected old Turk of Abusir, from the Turkish mudhir, no doubt
had its due weight.

As soon as the money was counted out, I went to our sheîkh of Saqâra,
whose unmerited ill-fortune seriously discomforted me, and returned him
publicly the half of his money, with the confidential assurance that the
rest should be restored on the departure of the Mudhir. This was so
unexpected on the part of the reverend sheikh, that he long stared at me
incredulously, then kissed my hands and feet, and called me his best
friend on earth,--I, who had just been at least the indirect cause of
his stately beard having been mingled with the dust, and of his feet
being beaten into week-enduring pain. His surprised pleasure did not,
however, so much have me for its object as the unexpected sight of the
money, that never fails in its magical effects on the Arab.

There is in the Arab a remarkable mixture of noble pride and low
avarice, which is at first quite incomprehensible to the European. His
free, noble carriage and imperturbable rest seem to express nothing but
a proud feeling of honour. But against the least prospect of profit
this melts like wax in the sun, and the most debasing usage is of no
consideration when money is at stake, but is creepingly borne. One of
these two natures appears at first to be but apparent or delusive; but
the contradiction comes back in every shape, in little things and great,
too often not to cause the conviction that it is characteristic of the
Arab, if not of the whole cast. The Egyptians had so degenerated already
in the Roman æra, that Ammianus Marcellinus could say of them,
“_Erubescit apud eos, si quis non infitiando tributa plurimas in corpore
vibices ostendat_;” just in the same way the Fellah to-day points to his
red weals with a contented smile as soon as the tax-gatherer had
departed, _minus_ a few of his desired piastres, notwithstanding his
instruments of torture.[27]

LETTER IX.

CAIRO.
_April 22, 1843._

A severe cold, which has for some time stopped my usual activity, has
brought me hither from our camp near Saqâra. The worst of it is, that we
are obliged to postpone our journey, although we should all have liked
to quit Saqâra. Certainly everything that such a place offers is of the
highest importance; but its wealth almost brings us into a dilemma here.
To the most important, but most difficult and time-occupying pursuit,
belongs that of Erbkam, our architect. He has the great task allotted
him of making the detailed plans of the desert coasts, in about the
centre of which we lie. This extent of country embraces the almost
unbroken chain of tomb-fields, from the pyramid of Rigah to those of
Dahshûr. The single plans of the northern fields of Abu Roash, Gizeh,
Zauiet el Arrian, are already completed. The sketches of Perring, useful
as they are, cannot be compared with ours. Whole Necropolis, with the
pyramids belonging to them, have been discovered, partly by myself,
partly by Erbkam. Some of the hitherto unknown pyramids are even now
from eighty to a hundred feet in height, others are almost worn away,
but were originally of considerable size, as is shown by the extent of
their ground plans. My return to Saqâra will, it is to be hoped, be the
signal of our departure.

We shall proceed by land to the Faiûm, that province branching into the
wilderness. The season of the year is still most beautiful, and the
desert journey will no doubt be more conducive to our health than the
Nile passage, which we formerly intended.

My health will, it is to be hoped, not long detain me here, for with
every day my impatience increases to leave the living city of the
Mamelukes, for the solemn Necropolis of the ancient Pharaohs. And yet it
might give you more pleasure, perhaps, could I picture to you, in
colours or words, how it looks from this my window.

I live on the great place of the Ezbekîeh, in the most handsome and
populous part of the city. Formerly there was a large lake in the
middle, but it is now transformed into gardens. All around run broad
streets, parted off for riders and walkers, and shaded by high trees.
There the whole East flits by me with its gay, manifold, and always
picturesque forms; the poor with blue or white tucked-up dresses, the
rich with long garments of the most various stuffs, with silken kaftans,
or fine clothes in delicate broken colours, with white, red, green, or
black turbans, or with the noble but little-becoming Turkish _tarbush_;
then Greeks with their dandified _fustanellas_, or Arabian sheîkhs in
their wide, antiquely-draped mantle: the children quite, or half, naked,
with shaven heads, from which a single lock stands up on their bare
polls like a handle; the women with veiled faces, whose black-rimmed
eyes glance ghostly from out the holes cut in the covering. All these
and a hundred other indescribable forms go, creep, dash by on foot, on
asses, mules, dromedaries, camels, horses, only not in carriages; for
they were employed much more in the Pharoahic times than now. If I look
upward from the street, I see on one side a prospect of magnificent
mosques with their cupolas and slender minarets shooting into the air,
with long rows of generally carelessly-built, but now and then
richly-ornamented houses, distinguished by artistically-carved lattices,
and elegant balconies; on the other side my view is bounded by green
palmtrees, or leaf-wealthy sycamores and acacias. In the far back-ground
at last, beyond the level roofs and their green interruptions, there
come forth on the Libyan horizon the far-lighting sister-pair of the two
great pyramids, sunny amidst the fine æther in sharply-broken lines.
What a difference to the mongrel Alexandria, where the oriental nature
of the country and the mightily progressed culture of Europe still
strive for the mastery. It seems to me as if I had already penetrated to
the inmost heart of the East of the present.

LETTER X.

AT THE RUINS OF THE LABYRINTH.
_May 31, 1843._

After my return to the camp at Saqâra, I required but three days to
finish our labours there. I made a last visit to the ruins of ancient
Memphis, the plan of which had, meanwhile, been completed by Erbkam; a
few interesting discoveries closed our examination.

On the 19th of May we at length departed with twenty camels, two
dromedaries, thirteen donkies, and a horse. As I am speaking of camels
and dromedaries, it may not be superfluous to remark what is here
understood by those terms; for in Europe, an inaccurate, or at least
negligent distinction is made between both, which is not known here. We
call Camel what the Frenchman names _dromadaire_, and dromedary
(Trampelthier, trampling beast) what he names _chameau_. The first has
one hump, the other two. Thus Dromedaries or _chameaux_ could not be
spoken of at all in Egypt, for there are no bi-humped animals, although
they occur now and then in single-humped families. In Syria and Farther
Asia, there would again be no camels or _dromadaires_; at least the
single-humped animals are very rare. In fact, it is very immaterial, and
taken by itself, should hardly warrant the distinction of another
species, whether or not the fat hump on the back is divided into two.
At the present time the orientals make no distinction between them, and
the ancients evidently did the same, for the single-humped animals do
not carry more easily than the others, nor do they run faster, nor does
the rider sit between the two humps more securely than on one, for these
are as entirely built over by the saddle as the single hump. However, a
great distinction is made, though not a naturalistic one, between the
strong and unwieldy burthen camel, commonly called _gémel_, and the
younger, more active, thoroughly-broken riding camel, which is called
_heggîn_, because the Mekka pilgrims (_hágg_, pl. _heggâg_) have a great
estimation for good riding animals. An Arab takes it as ill when any one
calls his slender, well-bred camel a _gémel_, as one would feel angry at
having one’s thorough-bred horse called a plough-horse or dray-horse.
The meaning, indeed, of _dromedarius_ or _camelus dromas_, χάμηλος
δρομάς with the ancients, was nothing more, as the name proves, than a
runner, of the lighter, more rideable race.

As the latter are far more expensive, it is often difficult to obtain
even a few of the better kind of animals from the Arabs who are bound to
produce them; the greater part of our company was obliged to be
contented with the usual beasts of burthen; mine was, however, passable,
and was at least called _heggîn_ by the Arabs.

I did not await the general break up of the camp, at which our Sheîkh of
Saqâra and he of Mitrahinneh were present, but rode forward with Erbkam
along the desert. On the way he took the plan of a pyramid with its
neighbourhood, that I had remarked on a former occasion. We have now
noted in all sixty-seven pyramids, almost twice as many as are found in
Perring. The topographical plans of Erbkam are indeed a treasure.

Shortly after sundown we came to the first pyramid of Lisht, where we
found our camp already pitched. Next morning I had the caravan broken up
early, and stayed behind with Erbkam in order to employ ourselves in the
examination and surveying of the two pyramids, somewhat apart from each
other, in this alone-standing tomb-field. At 2 o’clock we followed, and
arrived about 7 o’clock in the evening at our tents, which were erected
on the south side of the stately pyramid of Meidûm. To the pyramid of
Illahûn was another short day’s journey, and from hence,[28] through the
mouth of the Faiûm, about three hours. We set out very late. I left
Erbkam and Ernst Weidenbach behind in order to bring their researches on
paper, and rode off with a couple of servants half an hour before the
train, in order to reach the labyrinth by another and more interesting
way along the Bahr Jussuf, and to fix upon a place for the encampment.

Here we are since the 31st of May, settled at the south side of the
pyramid of Mœris, upon the ruins of the labyrinth. That we are fully
justified in employing these terms, I was quite sure, as soon as I had
surveyed the locality rapidly. I did not think that it would be so easy
to determine this.

As soon as Erbkam had measured off a small plan and had committed it to
paper, I had workmen got together by the Mudhir of Medînet el Faiûm, the
governor of the province, trenches drawn through the ruins and
excavations made in four or five places at once; one hundred and eight
people were at work to-day: these I allow to encamp for the night on the
north side of the pyramid, with the exception of the people of Howara,
the nearest village, who return home every night. They have their
foremen, and bread is brought to them; they are counted every morning,
and paid every evening; each man receives a piastre, about two silver
_groschens_,[29] each child half a one, occasionally thirty paras,
(forty go to a piaster) when they were very industrious. The men must
each bring a hoe, and a shallow plaited basket, called _maktaf_. The
children, forming by far the greater number, need only come with
baskets. The maktafs are filled by the men, and carried away by the
children on their heads; this is done in processions, which are kept in
strict order and activity by overseers.

Their chief delight, and a considerable strengthener during their daily
work, is song. They have certain simple melodies, which at a distance
make an almost melancholy impression by reason of their great monotony;
but near, they are hardly bearable, by reason of the pitiless duration
of the yelling voices that often continue the same tune for hours
together. Only the knowledge that by forbearance I assist so many in
carrying half the burden of the day, and materially hasten their
labours, has ever deterred me from meddling in this, though I am often
driven from my tent in despair to seek rest for my ears in some distant
sphere of activity. In the performance of the two-lined stanzas, the
only change is, that the first line is sung by a single voice, the
second by the whole chorus, while every fourth of a bar is marked by a
clap of the hands, _e.g._

[Music:

Solo
Chorus

1. Om-mí be-tá-kul má-ku-lí U a-ná

2. Dill á-ss-arí mál u mál Bun-yál

3. Yâ-min sa-báh‘ ú le-bén U
]

[Music: Solo

bagh-bágh-tét ’a-léï (Dill)

dill ebánne ú ’a-léï (Yâ-)

sám-neh sâïh ’a-le-t &c.
]

I.e.

1. My mother eats my dates
And I,--I am angry.

2. The shadow of Asser[30] bows it and bows it.
The wall (_bunyân_)....

3. Oh joy! when the morning milk
And butter pours over me.

_Makûl_, in the first line, is more properly only “food,” but it has
generally become an expression for dates, as they are the principal food
in the hut of the Fellah, and for some indeed is the only food. Another
melody, a little more animated, is as follows:--

[Music:

Solo
Chorus
Solo
]

where the chorus exceptionally sings two notes and not one. But I hardly
believe that even these chords are intentional; they run down without
knowing it, for it often occurs that single voices sing the same note in
different keys without in the least observing the continual discord. The
power of joining voices together, in even the simplest harmony, seems to
be wholly wanting in the Arab. The artistical music of the most
celebrated singers and players, which inexpressibly delights even the
most educated Mussulman, consists only of a hundred-wise screaming,
restlessly-hurrying melody, the connecting idea of which is utterly
untenable to an European ear.[31] And just as little are the musical
instruments, when sounding together, used for any other harmonious
variations than rhythm produces.

In the night we have eight watchmen, who really do watch, as I often
prove to myself by going a nightly round; one of them is always walking
up and down upon the walls about our camp, with his gun on his shoulder;
for if we have to anticipate an attack at any place, it is here; not on
the part of the Arabs, but of the yet more dangerous Bedouins, who
inhabit the borders of the desert in many single hordes, not living
under great sheîkhs, who might be secured to our interests. On the way
from Illahûn hither, we came through a Bedouin camp, the sheîkh of which
must have been aware of our approach, as he mounted his horse, rode to
meet us, and offered us his services in case we might require them. Some
distance further, we met an old man and a girl crying aloud in despair;
they threw dust into the air and heaped it upon their heads; when we had
come up to them they complained bitterly to us, that just then two
Bedouins had robbed them of their only buffalo; indeed, we could see the
thieves on horseback in the distance, driving the animal before them
into the desert. I was alone with my dragoman and my little donkey
groom, ’Auad, an active, dark-brown Berber, and could render them no
assistance. Such robberies are not at all rare here. A short time since,
one tribe drove away one hundred and twenty camels from another, and not
a single one of them has come back yet.

However, we shall probably not be molested, for the judgment of Saqâra
is not forgotten, and it is known that we are particularly recommended
to the authorities. They were also aware that we carried no gold and
silver with us in our heavy trunks, as the Arabs had universally
imagined. We are also prepared for every other attack. The most
important chests are all together in my tent, and beside my bed at night
I always keep a double-barrelled English gun and a brace of pistols.
Every evening I clear all away, in order to be prepared for anything,
and storms in particular, from which we have suffered much lately, and
the violence of which cannot be conceived in Europe. Abeken’s tent fell
down upon him three times in the course of one day, and the last time
disturbed him from sleep in a rather disagreeable manner. Thus, we are
often in continual expectation for whole days and nights that the airy
dwelling will fall down upon us at the next gust, and one must be
accustomed to this feeling in order to go on quietly working or
sleeping.

It would seem as if we were to taste of all the plagues of Egypt; our
acquaintance with a flood was made at the great pyramid; then came the
locusts, the young broods of which are numberless as the sands of the
sea, eating up the green meadows and trees again, and, together with the
passing cattle murrain, are almost enough to bring on a famine; after
that came the attack, with a daring robbery at the beginning. The plague
of fire has not quite failed. By a careless salute, Wild’s tent was set
on fire in Saqâra, and was partially burnt while we stood around in the
bright sunlight that concealed the conflagration. Now comes the plague
of mice, with which we were not formerly acquainted; in my tent they
gnaw, play, and whistle, as if they had been at home here all their
lives, and quite regardless of my presence. At night they have already
run across my bed and face, and yesterday I started terrified from my
slumbers, as I suddenly felt the sharp tooth of such a daring guest at
my foot. I jumped up angrily and got a light, knocked at every chest and
tent-peg, but was only hissed and whistled at anew on my lying down
again. Notwithstanding all these annoyances, however, we are in good
spirits, and, thank God, they have only threatened us as yet, made us
aware of their existence, and not harmed us much.

I have now much lightened the labours of inspecting the attendants and
administering many outward labours by having brought an excellent
_khawass_ from Cairo. These _khawasses_, who form a peculiar corps of
officers of the Pasha, are in this country a very exclusive and
important class of people. Only Turks are admitted into it, and these,
by their nationality, have an inborn preponderance over every Arab.
There are few nations that possess so much talent for governing as the
Turks, whom we often picture to ourselves as half-barbarians, rough and
uncultivated in the highest degree. On the contrary, they, nationally,
have a species of aristocratic feeling. A most imperturbable quiet, cold
bloodedness, reservedness, and energy of will, seem to be peculiar to
every Turk, down to the lowest soldier, and they do not fail at first to
make a certain impression upon the European. Among the noble Turks, who
have all been subject to the most rigid etiquette from childhood, this
outward carriage of apparently pre-conceived firmness, this reserved and
proud politeness, moving lightly, as it were, in strict forms, is only
present in the refined degree. They have an inborn contempt for
everything that does not belong to their nation, and seem not to possess
any feeling for the natural weight of higher mental culture and
civilization which generally makes the most every-day European respected
among other nations. Nothing is to be won from the Turk by kindness,
consideration, demonstration, or even by irritation; he only looks upon
it as weakness. The greatest reserve alone, and the most scrupulous and
proud politeness toward the great, or aristocratic usage and categorical
commands toward the little, succeed. A Turkish _khawass_ hunts a whole
village of Fellahs or Arabs before him, and makes a decided impression
upon the yet prouder Bedouins. The Pasha employs this body in delicate
missions and trusts throughout the country. They are the principal
acting servants of the Pasha and of the governors of the provinces.
Every foreign consul also has such a _khawass_, without whom he scarcely
moves a step, because he is his guard of honour, the token and executive
of his incontestible authority. When he rides out, the _khawass_
precedes him on horseback, with a great silver staff, and drives the
people and animals out of the way with words and blows, and woe be to
him that assumes a gesture or even a look of opposition. The Pasha
occasionally gives peculiarly-recommended strangers such a guard, with
equal authority, and thus we, on our arrival, immediately received a
_khawass_, who was, however, duly troublesome to us during our long stay
at Gizeh, and was at last very ungraciously dismissed by me on account
of his improper pretensions. On the occasion of the attack at Saqâra, I
had another given me by Sherif Pasha; but still he was not the sort of
man we wanted, so I have brought a third with us from Cairo, who has
answered excellently till now. He takes the whole responsibility of the
attendants off me, and manages admirably everything that I have to
negotiate with the people and officials. In Europe I judged myself
perfectly strong enough to conduct the whole outward affairs of the
Expedition; but in this climate one must take another standard of
measure. Patience and rest are here as necessary elements of existence
as meat and drink.

LETTER XI.

LABYRINTH.
_June 25, 1843._

From the Labyrinth these lines come to you; not from the doubtful, or,
at least, always disputed one, of which I could form no idea from the
previous and more than meagre descriptions of those who placed the
Labyrinth here, but the clearly-identified Labyrinth of Mœris and the
Dodecarchs. There is a mighty knot of chambers still in existence, and
in the midst is the great square, where the Aulæ stood, covered with the
remains of great monolithic pillars of granite, and others of white,
hard limestone, gleaming almost like marble.

I came near to the spot with a certain fear that we should have to seek
to confirm the account of the ancients by the geographical position of
the place, that every form of its architectural disposition would be
wiped away, and that a shapeless heap of ruins would frighten us from
every attempt at investigation; instead of this, there were immediately
found, on a cursory view of the districts, a number of confused spaces,
as well super as subterranean, and the principal mass of the building,
which occupied more than a stadium (Strabo),[32] was distinctly to be
seen. Where the French expedition had fruitlessly sought for chambers,
we find literally hundreds, by and over each other, little, often very
small, by larger and great, supported by diminutive pillars, with
thresholds and niches, with remains of pillars and single wall slabs,
connected together by corridors, so that the descriptions of Herodotus
and Strabo are quite confirmed in this respect; at the same time, the
idea, never coincided in by myself, of _serpentine_, cave-like windings,
instead of square rooms, is definitely contradicted.

The disposition of the whole is, that three mighty blocks of buildings,
of the breadth of 300 feet, surround a square 600 feet in length and 500
in width; the fourth side is bounded by the pyramid lying behind, which
is 300 feet square, and therefore does not quite come up to the side
wings of the great buildings. A rather modern canal, which may be jumped
over, at least at this season of the year, is diagonally drawn through
the ruins, cutting right through the most perfectly-preserved of the
Labyrinthic rooms, and a part of the square in the centre, which was
once divided into courts. Travellers have not wished to wet their feet,
and so remained on this side, where the continuation of the wings of the
buildings is certainly much concealed by the rubbish mounds; but even
from this, the eastern bank, the chambers on the opposite side, and
particularly at the southern point, where the walls rise almost 10 feet
above the rubbish, and 20 above the level of the ruins, are very easy to
be seen, and when viewed from the heights of the pyramid, the regular
plan of the whole lies before one like a map. Erbkam has been employed
since our arrival in surveying the place, and inserting in the plan
every room and wall, however small; the ruins on the other side are
therefore much more difficult in the execution of the plan; here it is
easier, as there are fewer chambers, but therefore more difficult to be
understood with respect to the original structure. The labyrinth of
chambers runs along here to the south. The Aulæ lay between this and the
northerly pyramid opposite, but almost all traces of them have
disappeared. The dimensions of the place alone allow us to suspect that
it was divided into two parts by a wall, to which the twelve Aulæ, no
longer to be distinguished with certainty, adjoined on both sides, so
that their entrances were turned in opposite directions, and had close
before them the innumerable chambers of the Labyrinth. Who was, however,
the Maros, Mendes, Imandes, who, according to the reports of the Greeks,
erected the labyrinth, or rather the pyramid belonging to it, as his
monument? In the Royal Lists of Manetho,[33] we find the builder of the
labyrinth towards the end of the _twelfth_ dynasty, the last of the Old
Empire shortly before the irruption of the Hyksos. The fragments of the
mighty pillars and architraves, that we have dug out in the great square
of the Aulæ, give us the cartouches of the sixth king of this twelfth
dynasty, Amenemha III.; thus is this important question answered in its
historical portion.[34] We have also made excavations on the north side
of the pyramid, because we may expect to discover the entrance there;
that is, however, not yet done. We have obtained an entry into a chamber
covered with piles of rubbish that lay before the pyramid, and here we
have also found the name of Amenemha several times. The builder and
possessor of the pyramid is therefore determined. But the account of
Herodotus, that the construction of the Labyrinth was commenced two
hundred years before his time by the Dodecarchs, is not yet confuted. In
the ruins of the great masses of chambers surrounding the great square,
we have discovered no inscriptions. Later excavations may very probably
certify to us that this whole building, and also the arrangement of the
twelve courts, really fall in the twenty-sixth dynasty of Manetho, so
that the original temple of Amenemha was only included in this mighty
erection.[35]

So much for the Labyrinth and its Pyramid. The historical determination
of the builder of this structure is by far the most important result
that we can expect here. Now something about the other wonder of this
province, Lake Mœris.

The obscurity in which it was previously involved seems to be removed by
a happy discovery that the excellent Linant, the Pasha’s hydraulic
engineer, has lately made. Up to this time it was only agreed that the
lake lay somewhere in the Faiûm. As there is at the present time in this
remarkable half-oasis only a single lake, the Birqet el Qorn, lying in
its most distant part, this was of course taken to be Lake Mœris; there
appeared to be no other solution to the question. Now its great fame was
expressly founded upon the fact that it was artificial (Herodotus says
that it was excavated), and of immense utility, filled at the time of
the overflow of the Nile, and at low water running off again by the
canal, on one side toward the lands of the Faiûm, on the other, in its
backward course, it waters the region of Memphis, and yielding a most
lucrative fishery at the double sluices near the end of the Faiûm. Of
all these qualities, however, to the annoyance of antiquarians and
philologers, the Birqet el Qorn did not possess a single one. It is not
artificial, but a natural lake, that is partly fed by the water of the
Jussuf canal; its utility is as good as non-existent; no fishing-boat
enlivens the hard and desert-circled water mirror, as the brackish water
contains scarcely any fish, and is not even favourable to the vegetation
at the shores; when the Nile is high and there is plenty of water
flowing in, it does swell, but it is by far too deep to allow a drop of
the water that flows into it to flow out again; the whole province must
be buried beneath the floods ere this could find a passage back again to
the valley, as the artificially-deepened rock gorge by the Bahr Jussuf,
branching from the Nile at a distance of forty miles to the south, lies
higher than the whole oase. The _niveau_ of the Birqet el Qorn now lies
seventy feet below the point at which the canal flows in, and can never
have risen much higher.[36] This is proved by the ruins of ancient
temples lying upon its shores. Just as little do the statements tally
that inform us that on its shores were situated the Labyrinth and the
metropolis Arsinoë, now Medînet el Faiûm. Linant has discovered mighty
mile-long dams, of ancient solid construction, which form the boundary
between the upper part of the shell-formed convex basin of the Faiûm,
and the more remote and less elevated portion. According to him, these
could only be intended to restrain an artificially-constructed lake,
which, however, since the dams have long since been broken through, lies
perfectly dry; this lake he considers to be Mœris. I must confess that
the whole, after his personal information, impressed me with the idea
that it was a most fortunate discovery, and one that would save us many
fruitless researches; and the examination of the region has now quite
solved every doubt of mine as to the accuracy of this judgment; I
consider it an immoveable fact, Linant’s essay is now being printed, and
I will send it as soon as it is to be got.[37]

Should you, however, ask me what then the name of Mœris has to do with
that of Amenemha, I can only reply, nothing. The name Mœris occurs in
the monuments or in Manetho; I rather imagine that here again is one of
the numerous Greek misunderstandings. The Egyptians called the lake
_Phiom en mere_, “the Lake of the Nile flood (Koptic, [Illustration:
KOPTIC], _inundatio_).” The Greeks made out of _mere_, the water that
formed the lake, a King Mœris, who laid out the lake, and troubled
themselves no more about the real originator of it, Amenemha. At a later
period, the whole province obtained the name of ΨΙΟΜ[Illustration:
symbol], _Phiom_, the Lake, from which arises the present name _Faiûm_.

LETTER XII.

LABYRINTH.
_July 18, 1843._

Our tour in the Faiûm, this remarkable province so seldom visited by
Europeans, which may be called the garden of Egypt by reason of its
fertility, is now ended; and as these regions are almost as unknown as
the distant Libyan oases, it may be pleasing to you to hear something
more about this from me.

I set out on the 3rd of July, in company with Erbkam, Ernst Weidenbach,
and Abeken; from the Labyrinth we followed the Bahr Wardâni, which
traverses the eastern boundary of the desert, and marks the frontier to
which the shores of Lake Mœris once extended. Now the canal is dry, and
its place is taken by the still more modern Bahr Sherkîeh, which, it is
said, was the work of Sultan Barquq, and leads through the middle of the
Labyrinth, crosses and recrosses the Wardâni, but then keeps more
inland. In three hours we arrived at the place where the monster dam of
Mœris, from the middle of the Faiûm, touches the desert. It runs from
there in a direct line for one and a half geographical miles to El Elâm;
in the middle of this course it is interrupted by the Bahr bela-mâ, a
deep river bed, which now passes through the old lake bottom, and is
generally dry, but is used at a great inundation to draw off the
surplus toward Tamîeh and into the Birqet el Qorn. This gave us the
advantage of being able to examine more closely the dyke itself. The
occasionally high-swelling and tearing stream has not only penetrated
the disturbed bed of the lake, but also several other strata, and even
the lowest, crumbling limestone, so that the water now flows during the
dryest season of the year, at sixty feet below the now dry surface. I
measured the single strata carefully, and brought away a specimen of
each. The breadth of the embankment cannot be exactly given, but was
probably 150 feet. Its height has probably decreased in the lapse of
time. I found 1 m. 90. above the present basin, and 5 m. 60. above the
opposite surface. If we take that to be of an equal height with the
original lake bottom (which, however, appears to have been deeper,
because the outer region was watered, and was therefore made higher),
the former height of the embankment, its gradual declension not being
considered, would have been 5 m. 60., _i. e._ 17 feet, and the bottom of
the lake would thus have been raised by the sediment about 11 feet in
its existence of 2,000 years. But if we take for granted that the 11 or
12 feet of black earth were deposited in historical times, the above
amounts would be almost double. Thus it may be understood how it is that
its usefulness is so much, diminished, for, by the deposit of 11 feet,
the lake lost (if we accept Linant’s statement as to its circumference)
about 13,000,000,000 square feet of water, which it could formerly
contain. Raising the dykes would not, it may be readily understood,
have counteracted it, because they had already been put into the proper
connection with the point of entrance of the Bahr Jussuf into the Faiûm.
This may have been one of the most cogent reasons for the neglect into
which Lake Mœris had been permitted to fall, and even if Linant had the
Bahr Jussuf turned off much higher from the Nile than the ancient
Pharaohs found it good, his daring project of restoring the lake again
would not completely succeed.

In two hours and a half from this breach, we arrived by El Elâm, where
the dam ends, at the remarkable ruins of the two monuments of Biahmu,
which Linant considers to be the two pyramids of Mœris and his wife,
mentioned by Herodotus as seen in the lake. They are built up of massive
blocks; there is yet a heart existing of each of them, but not in the
middle of the square rectangles, which appear as if they had been
originally quite filled by them. They rose in an angle of 64°, therefore
much more steeply than pyramids usually do. Their present height is only
twenty-three feet, to which must be added, however, a protruding base of
seven feet. A slight excavation convinced me, that the undermost layer
of stone, which only reaches four feet below the present surface of the
ground, is neither founded upon sand or rock, but upon Nile-earth, by
which the high antiquity of this structure is much to be doubted. At
least this proved that they did not stand in the Lake, which must have
had a considerable bend to the north-west if it included them.

Up to this time we had ridden along the boundary of the ancient lake,
and the adjoining region. This was bare and unfruitful, because the land
now lies so high, that it cannot be inundated. The land, however,
immediately enclosing the old lake, forms by far the most beautiful and
fertile part of the Faiûm. This we now traversed, leaving the metropolis
of the province, Medînet el Faiûm, with the hills of ancient
Crocodilopolis, to our left, and riding by Selajîn and Fidimîn to
Agamîeh, where we staid for the night. Next morning we arrived by way of
Bisheh on the frontier of the uninterrupted garden land. Here we entered
a new region, particularly striking by its unfertility and desolateness,
which lies round the other like a girdle, and separates it from the
deepest, and most distant, crescent-shaped Birqet el Qorn. About noon we
reached the lake. The only bark we could possibly find here, carried us
in an hour and a half over the waters, surrounded on all sides by
desert, to an island in the middle of the lake, called Gezîret el Qorn.
However, we found nothing remarkable upon it, not a single trace of
building: towards evening we returned back again.

On the following morning, we cruized in a more northerly direction
across the lake, and landed on a little peninsula on the opposite side,
that rises immediately to a _plateau_ of the Libyan desert, one hundred
and fifty feet high, commanding the whole oasis. Thither we ascended
and found, about an hour distant from the shores, in the middle of the
inhospitable water and barren desert, the extended ruins of an ancient
city, which is called in earlier maps Medînet Nimrud. Of this name no
one knew anything; the place was known as Diméh. Next morning, the 7th
of July, the regular plan of these ruins, with the remains of their
temple was made by Erbkam, who had stopped the night here with Abeken.
The temple bears no inscription, and what we found of sculptures point
to the late origin of this remarkable site. Its purpose can only have
been a military station against Libyan incursions into the rich Faiûm.

On the 8th of July we went in our boat to Qasr Qerûn, an old city at the
southern end of the lake, with a temple, in excellent preservation, but
bearing no inscriptions of recent date, the plan of which was taken next
day. Hence we pursued the southern boundary of the oasis by Neslet, to
the ruins of Medînet Mâdi at lake Gharaq, in the neighbourhood of which
the old embankments of Lake Mœris run down from the north, and we
arrived in our camp at the ruins of the labyrinth, on the 11th of July.
We found all well except our Frey, whom we had left indisposed, and
whose recurring, seemingly climatic, illness gives me some pain.

To-morrow I am thinking of going to Cairo, with Abeken and Bonomi, to
hire a bark for our journey to the south, and to prepare everything
required by our final departure from the neighbourhood of the
metropolis. We shall take four camels with us, for the transport of the
monuments gathered in the Faiûm, and go the shortest way, by Tamiêh,
which we did not touch on our tour, and thence over the desert heights,
which divide this part of the Faiûm from the valley of the Nile. We
shall enter this by the pyramids of Dahshur. Thus we expect to reach
Cairo in two days and a half.

LETTER XIII.

CAIRO.
_August 14, 1843._

Unfortunately, I received, soon after our return to Cairo, such very
questionable news of Frey’s health, that Abeken and Bonomi have
determined to go to the camp and bring him, in a litter they took with
them, from the Labyrinth to Zani, on the Nile, and thence by water
hither. As soon as Dr. Pruner had seen him, he declared that the only
advisable course was to let him depart immediately for Europe. Disease
of the liver, in the way it developed itself in him, is incurable in
Egypt. So he left us yesterday at noon. May the climate of his native
land soon restore the powers of a friend, equally talented as estimable,
in whom we all lose much.

A few days ago I purchased from a Basque named Domingo Lorda, who has
stayed a long time in Abyssinia, and has since accompanied d’Abadie in
several journeys, some Ethiopic Manuscripts for the Berlin Museum. He
bought them, probably at an inconsiderable price, in a convent on the
island of Thâna, near Gorata, a day’s journey from the sources of the
Blue Nile, where the inhabitants had been put to fearful distress by the
locusts. One contains the history of Abyssinia from Solomon to Christ,
is reported to come from Axum, and to be 500 or 600 years old! This
first portion of Abyssinian history, named _Kebre Negesty_, “The Fame of
the Kings,” is said to be far rarer than the second, _Tarik Negest_,
“The History of the Kings;” but this manuscript contains at the end a
list of the Ethiopian kings since Christ. The largest manuscript, with
many pictures ornamented in the Byzantine style, and, according to what
Lieder tells me, almost unique in its kind, contains mostly lives of
Saints. In the third, the yet valid _Canones_ of the church are
completely preserved. I hope the purchase will be welcome to our
library.[38]

Now, too, are our purchases for the voyage ended; a comfortable bark is
hired, and will save us the great difficulties of a land journey, which
is scarcely possible during the coming season of inundation.

LETTER XIV.

THEBES.
_October 13, 1843._

On the 16th of August, I went from Cairo to the Faiûm, where our camp
was broken up on the 21st. Two days later we sailed from Benisuef, sent
the camels back to Cairo, and only took the donkeys with us, as it was
found, upon careful consideration, that the originally-intended land
journey by the foot of the mountains, far away from the river, was
altogether impossible during the season of the inundation, and, on the
eastern side, it was not only too difficult, but perfectly useless for
us, by reason of the proximity of the desert, towards which there is
nothing more to be found for our purposes. We have therefore made
excursions from our bark, on foot, and with donkeys, principally to the
east and some attainable mountains, though we have also visited the most
important spots on the western shore.

Even on the day of our departure from Benisuef, we found, in the
neighbourhood of the village of Surarîeh, a small rock temple, not
mentioned by former travellers, indeed, not even by Wilkinson, which was
dedicated already in the nineteenth dynasty of Menephthes, the son of
Ramses Miamun,[39] to Hathor, the Egyptian Venus.[40] Farther on, lie
several groups of graves, which have scarcely received any attention,
although they are of peculiar interest by reason of their great
antiquity. The whole of middle Egypt, to judge from the tombs preserved,
flourished during the Old Empire, before the irruption of the Hyksos,
not only under the twelfth dynasty,[41] to which period the famous tombs
of Benihassan suit, and Bersheh belong, but even under the sixth
dynasty[42] we have found extensive series of tombs, belonging to these
early times, and attached to cities, of which the later Egyptian
geography does not even know the names, as they were probably already
destroyed by the Hyksos. In Benihassan we stayed the longest
time--sixteen days; through this, the season is far advanced, and it
must not be lost in our journey southward. At the next places,
therefore, only notes were taken, and the most important forms in paper,
so also at El Amarna, Siut, at the reverend Abydos, and in the younger,
but not less magnificent, almost intactly preserved, temple of Dendera.
At Siut, we visited the governor of Upper Egypt, Selim Pasha, who is
working an ancient alabaster quarry between Bersheh and Gauâta,
discovered by the Bedouins some months ago.

The town of Siut is well built and charmingly situated, particularly if
it be looked upon from the steep rocks of the western shore. The
prospect of the inundated Nile valley from these heights is the most
beautiful that we have yet seen, and is very peculiar in these times of
inundation in which we travel. From the foot of the abrupt rock, a small
dyke, overgrown with vines, and a bridge leads to the town, which lies
like an island in the boundless ocean of inundation. The gardens, of
Ibrahim Pasha, to the left, form another island, green and fresh with
trees and bushes. The city, with its fifteen minarets, rises high upon
the ruined mounds of ancient Lycopolis; from it a great embankment
reaches to the Nile; toward the south may be seen other long dykes
stretching through the waters like threads; on the other side, the
Arabian mountains come on closely, by which the valley is bounded, and
formed into an easily-overlooked picture.

Since the 6th of October we have been in Royal Thebes. Our bark touched
the shore first beneath the wall of Luqsor, at the southerly point of
the Thebaïc ruins. The strong current of the river has thrust itself so
near to the old temple, that it is in great danger. I endeavoured to
obtain a general view of the ruins of Thebes from the heights of the
temple, in order to compare it with the picture I had idealised to
myself, from plans and descriptions.

But the distances are too great to give a complete view. One looks into
a wide landscape, in which the temple groups are distinguishable only to
those who are acquainted with the neighbourhood. To the north, at a
short hour’s distance stand the mighty pylones of Karnak, forming a
temple city in itself, gigantic and astounding in all its proportions.
We spent the next days in a cursory examination of it. Across the river,
at the foot of the Libyan mountains, lie the Memnonia, once an unbroken
series of palaces, which probably found their equal nowhere in
antiquity. Even now, the temples of Medînet Hâbu, at the southern end of
this row, show themselves, with their high rubbish-mounds at a distance,
and at the northern end, an hour away down the river, is the
well-preserved temple of Qurnah; between both lies the temple of Ramses
Miamun,[43] (Sesostris), already most celebrated by the description of
Diodorus. Thus the four Arab villages, Karnak and Luqsor on the east,
Qurnah and Medînet Hâbu on the west of the river, form a great
quadrangle, each side of which measures about half a geographical mile,
and gives us some idea of the dimensions of the most magnificent part of
ancient Thebes. How far the remainder of the inhabited portion of the
hundred-gated city extended beyond these limits to the east, north, and
south, is difficult to be discovered now, because everything that did
not remain upright in the lapse of ages gradually disappeared under the
annually rising soil of the valley, induced by the alluvial deposit.

No one ever asks after the weather here; for every day is pleasant,
clear, and up to the present time not too hot. We have no red either in
the morning or at night, as clouds and mists fail. But every first beam
of the day calls a thousand colours forth from the naked and precipitate
limestone rocks, and the brown shining desert, in opposition to the
black or green-clad plain of the valley. A dawn scarcely exists, as the
sun sinks directly down. The boundary between day and night is as sudden
as that between meadow and desert; one step, one moment, parts the one
from the other. The more refreshing, therefore, is the darkly sheen of
the moon and star-bright night to the eye, dazzled by the light ocean of
the day. The air is so pure and dry, that no dew falls, except in the
immediate vicinity of the river, notwithstanding the sudden change at
sundown. We have almost forgotten what rain is, for, as far as we are
concerned, it is six months since it last rained at Saqâra. A few days
ago, we were rejoicing at having discovered toward evening some light
clouds in the south-western part of the sky, which reminded us of
Europe. However, we are not in want of cooling, for a light wind is
almost always blowing, which does not allow the heat to become too
oppressive. Besides this, the water of the Nile is of a sweet taste, and
can be taken in great quantities without danger.

An inestimable benefit are the earthenware water-vessels (_Qulleh_),
which, formed of a fine, porous Nile earth, allow the water to
continually filter through. This evaporates as soon as it comes out to
the warm surface, the evaporation produces cold, as is well known, and,
by this simple process, the bottles are kept constantly cool, even in
the warmest days. The water is therefore generally cooler than it is to
be had in Europe during summer. Our food usually consists mostly of
fowls; as a change, we kill a sheep from time to time. There is but
little vegetable. Every meal is ended with a dish of rice, and as a
desert, we have the most excellent yellow melons, or juicy red
water-melons. The dates are also excellent, but are, however, not always
to be obtained. I have at length agreed, to the great joy of my
companions, to smoke a Turkish pipe; this keeps me for a quarter of an
hour in perfect _kêf_ (so the Arabs call their state of perfect rest),
for as long as one “drinks” from the blue pipe with the long,
easily-spilt bowl, it is impossible to leave one’s place, and begin any
other business. Our costume is comfortable: full trowsers of light
cotton, and a wide, long blouse, with short falling sleeves. I wear,
also, a broad-brimmed, grey felt hat, as a European symbol, which keeps
the Arabs in proper respect. We eat, according to the custom of the
country, sitting with crossed legs on cushions, round a low, round
table, not a foot high. This position has become so comfortable to me,
that I even write in it, sitting on my bed, with my letter case upon my
knees. Above me a canopy of gauze is spread, in order to keep off the
flies, these most shameless of the plagues of Egypt, during the day, and
the mosquitos at night. For the rest, one does not suffer so much from
insects here as in Italy. Scorpions and serpents have not bitten us yet,
but there are very malicious wasps, which have often stung us.

We shall only stop here till the day after to-morrow, and then journey
away to the southward without stopping. On our return, we shall give the
treasures here as much time and exertion as they require. At Assuan, on
the Egyptian frontier, we must unload for the first time, and send back
our large bark, in which we have become quite homeish. On the other side
of the cataracts we shall take two smaller barks for the continuation of
our journey.

LETTER XV.

KORUSKO.
_November 20, 1843._[44]

Our journey from the Faiûm through Egypt was obliged to be much hastened
on account of the advanced season of the year; we have, therefore,
seldom stopped at any place longer than was necessary to make a hasty
survey of it, and have confined ourselves in the last three months to a
careful examination of what we have, and to extending our important
collection of paper impressions of the most interesting inscriptions.

We have obtained, in our rapid journey to Wadi Halfa, three or four
hundred Greek inscriptions, in impressions or careful transcripts. They
often confirm Letronne’s acute conjectures, but not seldom correct the
unavoidable mistakes incident to such an investigation as his. In the
inscription from which it was, without reason, attempted to settle the
situation of the city of Akoris, his conjecture ΙΣΙΔΙ ΛΟΧΙΑΔΙ is not
corroborated; L’Hote has read ΜΟΧΙΑΔΙ but ΜΩΧΙΑΔΙ is to be found there,
and previously ΕΡΩΕΩΕ not ΕΡΕΕΩΕ.

The dedicatory inscription of the temple of Pselchis (as the
inscriptions give with Strabo, instead of Pselcis) is almost as long
again as Letronne considers it, and the first line does not end with
KΛEOPATPAΣ, but with AΔEΛΦHΣ, so that it should probably be supplied--

Ὑπὲρ βασιλέως Πτολεμαίου καὶ βασιλίσσης
Κλεοπάτρας τῆς ἀδελφῆς
θεῶν Εὐεργετῶν ...;[45]

At the end of the second line ΤΩΙΚΑΙ is confirmed; the title of Hermes,
following in the third line, was, however, ΠΑΟΤΠΝΟΥΦΙ(ΔΙ), varying from
the spelling in other subsequent inscriptions, where he is called
ΠΑΥΤΝΟΥΦΙΣ. The same name is found not unfrequently hieroglyphically,
and is then _Tut en Pnubs_, _i. e._ Thoth of, or lord of Πνούψ[46], a
city, the position of which is yet obscure. I have already encountered
this Thoth in earlier temples, where he often appears besides the Thoth
of Shonun, _i. e._ _Heliopolis magna_. In the language of the people it
was pronounced Pet-Pnubs, whence Paot-Pnuphis.

The interesting problem concerning the owner of the name Εὐπάτωρ, which
Letronne endeavoured to solve in a new way in connection with the
inscriptions of the obelisk of Philae, seems to be determined by the
hieroglyphical inscriptions, where the same circumstances occur, but
lead to other conclusions.[47] I have discovered several very perfect
series of Ptolemies, the longest coming down to Neos Dionysos and his
wife Cleopatra, who was surnamed Tryphæna by the Egyptians, according
to the hieroglyphic inscriptions.[48] A fact of some importance is also
that in this Egyptian list of Ptolemies, the first King is never
Ptolemæus Soter I. but Philadelphus. In Qurna, where Euergetes II. is
adoring his ancestors, not only Philometor, the brother of Euergetes,
is wanting, which may easily be accounted for, but also Soter I., and
it is an error of Rosselini, if he look upon the king beneath
Philadelphus as Soter I. instead of Euergetes I. It seems that the son
of Lagus, although he assumed the title of King from 305 B.C., was not
recognized by the Egyptians as such, as his cartouches do not appear
upon any monument erected by him. The rather, therefore, do I rejoice,
that I have not yet found his name once upon an inscription of
Philadelphus, as the father of Arsinoe II. But here, it must be
observed, Soter certainly has the Royal Kings about his names, and a
peculiar cartouche; but before both cartouches, contrary to the usual
Egyptian custom, there stands no royal title, although his daughter is
called “royal daughter,” and “Queen.”[49]

It is remarkable how little Champollion seems to have attended to the
monuments of the Old Empire. In his whole journey through Middle Egypt
up to Dendera, he only found the rock graves of Benihassan worthy of
remark, and these, too, he assigns to the sixteenth and seventeenth
dynasty, therefore to the New Empire. He mentions Zauiet el Meitîn and
Siut, but scarcely makes any remark about them.

So little has been said by others of most of the monuments of Middle
Egypt, that almost everything was new to me that we found here. My
astonishment was not small, when we found a series of nineteen rock
tombs at Zauiet el Meitîn, which were all inscribed, gave the names of
the departed, and belong to the old time of the sixth dynasty, thus
almost as far back as the pyramid builders.[50] Five of them contain,
several times repeated, the cartouche of the Macrobiote Apappus-Pepi,
who is reported to have lived one hundred and six years, and reigned one
hundred; in another, Cheops is mentioned. On one side is a single tomb,
of the time of Ramses.

At Benihassan I have had a complete rocktomb perfectly copied; it will
serve as a specimen of the grandiose style of architecture and art of
the second flourishing time of the Old Empire, during the mighty twelfth
dynasty.[51] I think it will cause some surprise among Egyptologers,
when they learn from Bunsen’s work,[52] why I have divided the tablet of
Abydos, and have referred Sesurtesen and Amenemha, these Pharaohs, well
known through Heliopolis, the Faiûm, Benihassan, Thebes, and up to Wadi
Halfa, from the New Empire into the Old. It must then have been a proud
period for Egypt--that is proved by these mighty tombs alone. It is
interesting, likewise, to trace in the rich representations on the
walls, which put before our eyes the high advance of the peaceful arts,
as well as the refined luxury of the great of that period; also the
foreboding of that great misfortune which brought Egypt, for several
centuries, under the rule of its northern enemies. In the
representations of the warlike games, which form a characteristically
recurring feature, and take up whole sides in some tombs, which leads to
a conclusion of their general use at that period afterwards
disappearing, we often find among the red or dark-brown men, of the
Egyptian and southern races, very light-coloured people, who have, for
the most part, a totally different costume, and generally red-coloured
hair on the head and beard, and blue eyes, sometimes appearing alone,
sometimes in small divisions. They also appear in the trains of the
nobles, and are evidently of northern, probably Semitic, origin. We find
victories over the Ethiopians and negroes on the monuments of those
times, and therefore need not be surprised at the recurrence of black
slaves and servants. Of wars against the northern neighbours we learn
nothing; but it seems that the immigration from the north-east was
already beginning, and that many foreigners sought an asylum in fertile
Egypt in return for service and other useful employments.

I have more in mind the remarkable scene in the tomb of the royal
relation, Nehera-si-Numhotep, the second from the north, which places
the immigration of Jacob and his family before our eyes in a most lively
manner, and which would almost induce us to connect the two, if Jacob
had not really entered at a far later period, and if we were not aware
that such immigrations of single families could not be unfrequent.
These, however, were the precursors of the Hyksos, and prepared the way
for them in more than one respect. I have traced the whole
representation, which is about eight feet long, and one-and-a-half high,
and is very well preserved through, as it is only painted. The Royal
Scribe, Nefruhotep, who conducts the company into the presence of the
high officer to whom the grave belongs, is presenting him a leaf of
papyrus. Upon this the sixth year of King Sesurtesen II. is mentioned,
in which that family of thirty-seven persons came to Egypt. Their chief
and lord was named Absha, they themselves Aama, a national designation,
recurring with the light-complexioned race, often represented in the
royal tombs of the nineteenth dynasty, together with three other races,
and forming the four principal divisions of mankind, with which the
Egyptians were acquainted. Champollion took them for Greeks when he was
in Benihassan, but he was not then aware of the extreme antiquity of the
monuments before him. Wilkinson considers them prisoners, but this is
confuted by their appearance with arms and lyres, with wives, children,
donkeys and luggage; I hold them to be an immigrating Hyksos-family,
which begs for a reception into the favoured land, and whose posterity
perhaps opened the gates of Egypt to the conquering tribes of their
Semetic relations.

The city to which the rich rock-Necropolis of Benihassan belonged, and
which is named Nus in the hieroglyphic inscriptions, must have been very
considerable, and without doubt lay opposite on the left bank of the
Nile, where old mounds are still existing, and were marked on the French
maps. That the geography of the Greeks and Romans knows nothing of this
city, Nus, as indeed was true of many other cities of the Old Empire, is
not very astonishing, if it be considered that the five hundred years of
Hyksos dominion intervened. The sudden fall of the Empire and of this
flourishing city, at the end of the twelfth dynasty, is recognised by
some in the circumstance, that of the numerous rock-tombs, only eleven
bear inscriptions, and of these but three are completely finished. To
these last, broad pathways led directly up from the banks of the river,
which, at the steep upper end, were changed into steps.

Benihassan is, however, not the only place where works of the twelfth
dynasty were found. Near Bersheh, somewhat to the south of the great
plain, in which the Emperor Hadrian built, to the honour of his drowned
favourite, the city of Antinoe, with its magnificently and even now
partially passable streets, with hundreds of pillars, a small valley
opens to the east, where we again found a series of splendidly-made
rock-tombs of the twelfth dynasty, of which the greater portion are
unfortunately injured. In the tomb of Ki-si-Tuthotep the transportation
of the great colossus is represented, which was already published by
Rosellini, but without the accompanying inscriptions; from the latter it
is certain that it was formed of limestone (the hieroglyphic word for
which I first ascertained here), and was about thirteen Egyptian ells,
that is circa twenty-one feet, in height.[53] In the same valley, on the
southern rock wall, there is hewn a series of still older, but very
little inscribed tombs, which, to judge from the style of the
hieroglyphics, and the titles of the deceased, belong to the sixth
dynasty.

A few hours more to the southward comes another group of graves, also
belonging to the sixth dynasty; here King Cheops is incidentally
mentioned, whose name already appeared several times in an hieratic
inscription at Benihassan. At two other places, between the valley of El
Amarna, where the very remarkable rock-tombs of King Bech-en-Aten is
situated, and Siut, we found graves of the sixth dynasty, but presenting
few inscriptions. Perring, the pyramid measurer, has, in a recent
publication, attempted to establish the strange notion, which I found
also existed in Cairo, that the monuments of El Amarna were the work of
the Hyksos: others wished to refer them to a period anterior to that of
Menes, by reason of their certainly, but not inexplicable,
peculiarities; I had already explained them in Europe as contemporaneous
kings[54] of the eighteenth dynasty.

In the rock wall behind Siut, mighty tombs are gaping, in which we could
recognize the grand style of the twelfth dynasty already from a
distance. Here too, unfortunately, much has been lately destroyed of
these precious remnants, as it was found easier to break down the walls
and pillars of the grottoes, than to hew out the stones from the mass.

I learnt from Selim Pasha, the Governor of Upper Egypt, who received us
at Siut in the most friendly manner, that the Bedouins had some time
since discovered quarries of alabaster two or three hours’ journey into
the eastern mountains, the proceeds of which Mahommed Ali had presented
him, and from his dragoman I ascertained that there was an inscription
on the rocks. I therefore determined to undertake the hot ride upon the
Pasha’s horses, which he had sent to El Bosra for this purpose, from El
Bosra thither, in company with the two Weidenbachs, our dragoman and the
_khawass_. There we found a little colony of eighteen workmen, with
their families, altogether thirty-one persons, in the lonely, wild, hot
rock gorge, employed in the excavation of the alabaster. Behind the tent
of the overseer there were preserved, in legible, sharply-cut
hieroglyphics, the names and titles of the wife, so much revered by the
Egyptians, of the first Amasis, the head of the eighteenth dynasty, who
expelled the Hyksos, the remains of a formerly much larger inscription.
These are the first alabaster quarries, the age of which is certified by
an inscription. Not far from the place were others, which were already
exhausted in antiquity; from those now reopened they have extracted
within the last four months more than three hundred blocks, of which
the larger ones are eighty feet long and two feet thick. The Pasha
informed me, through his dragoman, that on our return I should find a
piece, the size and form of which I was myself to determine, of the best
quality the quarry afforded, which he desired me to accept as a
testimonial of his joy at our visit. The alabaster quarries discovered
in this region are all situated between Bersheh and Gauâta; one would be
inclined, therefore, to consider El Bosra as the ancient Alabastron, if
its position could be reconciled with the account of Ptolemæus; at any
rate, Alabastron has certainly nothing to do with the ruins in the
valley of El Amarna, as hitherto thought, to which also the relation of
Ptolemæus does not answer, and which seems to be quite different. The
hieroglyphical name of these ruins recurs continually in the
inscriptions.

In the rock chains of Gebel Selîn there are again very early, but little
inscribed, graves of the Old Empire, apparently of the sixth dynasty.

Opposite ancient Panopolis, or Chemmis, we climbed the remarkable rock
cave of the ithyphallic Pan (Chem).[55] It is dedicated by another
contemporaneous king of the eighteenth dynasty, whose grave we have
since visited in Thebes. The holy name of the city often occurs in the
inscriptions,--“Dwelling-place of Chem,” _i. e._ Panopolis. Whether
this, however, was the origin of the popular name, Chemmis, now Echmîn,
is much to be doubted. I have always found at Siut, Dendera, Abydos, and
other have cities, two distinct names, the sacred one and the popular
name; the first is taken from the principal god of the local temple, the
other has nothing to do with it.[56] My hieroglyphical geography is
extended almost with every new monument.

At Abydos we came to the first greater temple building. The last
interesting tombs of the Old Empire we found at Qasr e’ Saiât; they
belong to the sixth dynasty. At Dendera we visited the imposing temple
of Hathor, the best preserved perhaps in all Egypt.[57]

In Thebes we stayed for twelve over-rich, astonishing days, which were
hardly sufficient to learn to find our way among the palaces, temples,
and tombs, whose royal giant magnificence fills this spacious plain. In
the jewel of all Egyptian buildings, in the palace of Ramses Sesostris,
which this greatest of the Pharaohs erected in a manner worthy of
himself and the god, to “Ammon-Ra, King of the Gods,” the guardian of
the royal city of Ammon, on a gently-rising terrace, calculated to
overlook the wide plain on this side, and on the other side of the
majestic river, we kept our beloved King’s birthday with salutes and
flags, with chorus singing, and with hearty toasts, that we proclaimed
over a glass of pure German Rhine wine. That we thought of you with full
hearts on this occasion I need not say. When night came we first
lighted a pitch kettle, over the outer entrances between the pylones, on
both sides of which our flags were planted; then we let a green fire
flame up from the roof of the Pronaos, which threw out the beautiful
proportions of the pillared halls, now first restored to their original
destination by us, as festal halls; “Hall of the Panegyries,” ever since
thousands of years; and even magically animated the two mighty peace
thrones of the colossi of the Memnon.

We have put off more extensive research till our return; but to select
from the inexhaustible matter for our end, and with relation to what has
already been given in other works, will be difficult. On the 18th of
October we quitted Thebes. Hermonthis we saw _en passant_. The great
hall of Esneh was some years ago excavated by command of the Pasha, and
presented a magnificent appearance. At El Kab, the ancient Eileithyia,
we remained three days. Still more remarkable than the different temples
of this once mighty place are its rock-tombs, which belong chiefly to
the beginning of the War of Liberation against the Hyksos, and throw
much light upon the relation of the several dynasties of that period.
Several persons of consideration buried there bear the curious title of
a male nurse of a royal prince, expressed by the well known group of
_mena_, with the determinative of the female breast in Coptic,
[Illustration: Koptic];[58] the deceased is represented with the prince
in his lap.

The temple of Edfu is also among the best preserved of them; it was
dedicated to Horus and Hathor, the Egyptian Venus, who is once named
here “Queen of men and women.” Horus, as a child, is represented, as all
children are on the monuments, as naked, with his finger to his lips; I
had already explained from it the name of Harpocrates, which I have now
found completely represented and written as Harpe-chroti, _i. e._ “Horus
the Child.”[59] The Romans misunderstood the Egyptian gesture of the
finger, and made of the _child_ that _can_ not speak, the God of
Silence, that _will_ not speak. The most interesting inscription,
unremarked and unmentioned as yet by any one, is found on the eastern
outer wall of the temple, built by Ptolemaeus Alexander I. It contains
several dates of King Darius, of Nectanebus, and the falsely named
Amyrtæus, and has reference to the lands belonging to the temple. The
glowing heat of that day caused me to postpone the more careful
examination and the paper impression of this inscription till our
return.[60] Gebel Silsilis is one of the richest places in historical
inscriptions, which generally bear some reference to the ancient working
of the sandstone quarries.

At Ombos, I was greatly rejoiced to discover a third canon of
proportions of the human body, which is very different to the two older
Egyptian canons that I had found in many examples before. The second
canon is intimately connected with the first and oldest of the pyramid
period, of which it is only a farther completion and different
application. The foot is the unit of both of them, which, taken six
times, makes the height of the upright body; but it must be remarked,
not from the sole to the crown, but only as far as the forehead. The
piece from the roots of the hair, or the forehead to the crown, did not
come into the calculation at all, and occupies sometimes three-quarters,
sometimes half, sometimes less of another square. The difference between
the first and second canons concerns mostly the position of the knees.
In the Ptolemaic canon, however, the division itself is altered. The
body was not divided into 18 parts, as in the second canon, but into 21¼
parts to the forehead, or into 23 to the crown. This is the division
which Diodorus gives us in the last chapter of his first book. The
middle, between forehead and sole, falls beneath the hips in all the
three divisions. Thence downward, the proportions of the second and
third canons remain the same, but those of the upper part of the body
differ exceedingly; the head is larger, the breast falls deeper, the
abdomen higher; on the whole, the contour becomes more licentious, and
loses the earlier simplicity and modesty of form, in which the grand and
peculiar Egyptian character consisted, for the imperfect imitation of a
misunderstood foreign style of art. The proportion of the foot to the
length of the body remains, but it is no longer the unit on which the
whole calculation is based.

We were obliged to change boat at Assuan, on account of the Cataracts,
and had, for the first time for six months or more, the homeish greeting
of a violent shower and blustering storm, that gathered beyond the
Cataracts, surmounted the granite girdle, and burst with the most
thundering explosions into the valley down to Cairo, which (as we have
since learnt) it deluged with water in a manner scarcely recollected
before. Thus we too may say with Strabo and Champollion:--“In our time
it rained in Upper Egypt.” Rain is, in fact, so unusual here, that our
guards remembered no similar scene, and our Turkish _Khawass_, who is
intimately acquainted with the land in every respect, when we had long
had our packages brought into the tents and fastened up, never laid a
hand to his own things, but quietly repeated, _abaden moie_, “never
rain,” a word, that he had since been often obliged to hear, as he was
thoroughly drenched, and got a tremendous fever, that he was obliged to
suffer patiently at Philae.

Philae is as charmingly situated as it is interesting for its monuments.
The week spent on this holy island belongs to the most delightful
reminiscences of our journey. We were accustomed to assemble before
dinner, when our scattered work was done, on the elevated terrace of the
temple, which rises steeply above the river on the eastern shore of the
island, to observe the shades of the well-preserved temple, built of
sharply-cut, dark-glowing blocks of sandstone, which grow across the
river and mingle with the black volcanic masses of rock, piled wildly
one upon another, and between which the golden-hued sand pours into the
valley like fire-floods. The island appears to have become sacred at a
late period among the Egyptians, under the Ptolemies. Herodotus, who
went up to the Cataracts in the time of the Persians, does not mention
Philae at all; it was then inhabited by Ethiopians, who had also half
Elephantine in their possession. The oldest buildings, now to be found
on the island, were erected nearly a hundred years subsequent to the
journey of Herodotus, by King Nectanebus, the last but three of the
kings of Egyptian descent, upon the southern point of the island. There
is no trace of any earlier buildings, not even of destroyed or built-up
remains. Inscriptions of much older date are to be found on the great
island of Bigeh close by, called hieroglyphically Senmut. It was already
adorned with Egyptian monuments during the Old Empire; for we found
there a granite statue of King Sesurtesem III., of the twelfth dynasty.
The little rock-islet Konossa, hieroglyphically Kenes, has also very
ancient inscriptions on the rocks, in which a new, and hitherto quite
unknown, king of the Hyksos period is named. The hieroglyphical name of
the island of Philae has generally been read Manlak. I have found it
several times undoubtedly written Ilak. This, with the article, becomes
Philak, in the mouths of the Greeks Philai. The sign read “man” by
Champollion also interchanges in other groups with “i,” thus the
pronunciation I-lak, P-i-lak, Memphitic Ph-i-lak is confirmed.

We have made a precious discovery in the court of the great temple of
Isis, two somewhat word-rich bilingual, _i. e._ hieroglyphical and
Demotic decrees of the Egyptian priests, of which one contains the same
text as the decree of the Rosetta stone. At least, I have till now
compared the seven last lines, which not only correspond with the
Rosetta in the contents but in the length of each individual line; the
inscription must first be copied, ere I can say more about it; in any
case the gain for Egyptian philology is not inconsiderable, if only a
portion of the broken decree of Rosetta can be restored by it. The whole
of the first part of the inscription of Rosetta, which precedes the
decree, is wanting here. Instead of it, a second decree is there, which
relates to the same Ptolemæus Epiphanes; in the beginning the “fortress
of Alexander,” _i. e._ the city of Alexandria, is mentioned, for the
first time, upon any of the monuments hitherto made known. Both decrees
close, like the inscription of Rosetta, with the determination to set up
the inscription in hieroglyphical, Demotic, and Greek writing. But the
Greek inscription is wanting, if it were not written in red and rubbed
out when Ptolemy Lathyrus engraved his hieroglyphic inscriptions over
earlier ones.[61]

The hieroglyphic series of Ptolemies, which occurs here, again begins
with Philadelphus, while it begins with Soter in the Greek text of the
Rosetta inscription. Another very remarkable circumstance is, that
Epiphanes is here called the son of Philopator Ptolemæus, and Cleopatra
is mentioned, while according to the historical accounts the only wife
of Philopator was named Arsinoe, and is so named in the Rosetta
inscription and on other monuments. She is certainly also named
Cleopatra in one passage of Pliny; this would have been taken for an
error of the author or a mistake of the manuscripts, if a hieroglyphic
and indeed official document did not present the interchange of names.
There is consequently no farther reason to place, as Champollion-Figeac
does, the embassy of Marcus Atilius and Marcus Acilius from the Roman
Senate to Egypt to settle a new treaty concerning the Queen Cleopatra
mentioned by Livy, in the time of Ptolemæus Epiphanes, instead of under
Ptolemæus Philopator, as other authors inform us. We must rather
conceive, either that the wife and sister of Philopator had both names,
which would not obviate all the difficulties, or that the project which
Appian mentions of a marriage of Philopator with the Syrian Cleopatra,
who afterwards became the wife of Epiphanes, was carried out after the
murder of Arsinoe, without mention of it by the historians. Here
naturally means are wanting to me in order to bring this point clearly
out.[62]

The quantity of Greek inscriptions at Philae is innumerable, and
Letronne will be interested to hear that I have found on the base of the
second obelisk, still in its own place, of which a portion only went to
England with the other obelisk, the remains of a Greek inscription
written in red, and perhaps once gilt, like those lately discovered on
the base in England, but which is, of course, extremely difficult to
decipher. That the hieroglyphical inscriptions of the obelisks, which I
myself copied in Dorsetshire, besides the Greek on the base, and
subsequently published in my Egyptian Atlas, have nothing to do with the
Greek inscriptions, and were also not contemporaneously set up, I have
already stated in a letter to Letronne; but whether the inscription on
the second base had not some connection with that of the first is still
a question; the correspondence of the three known inscriptions seems
certainly to be settled.

The principal temple of the island was dedicated to Isis. She alone is
named “Lady of Philek;” Osiris was only Θεὸς σύνναος, which is
peculiarly expressed in the hieroglyphics, and is only exceptionally
called “Lord of Philek;” but he was “Lord of Ph-i-uêb,” _i. e._ Abaton,
and Isis, who was σύνναος there, is only occasionally called “Lady of
Ph-i-uêb.” From this it is evident that the famous grave of Osiris was
upon his own island of Phiuêb, and not on Philek. Both places are
distinctly indicated as islands by their determinations. It is therefore
not to be thought that the Abaton of the inscriptions and historians was
a particular place on the island of Philae; it was an island in itself.
So also do Diodorus and Plutarch intimate by their expression πρὸς
Φίλαις. Diodorus decidedly refers to the island with the grave of Osiris
as a distinct island, which was named ἱερὸν πεδίον, “the holy field,” by
reason of this grave. This is a translation of Ph-i-uêb, or Ph-ih-uêb
(for the h is also found expressed hieroglyphically), Koptic
[Illustration: Koptic] Ph-iah-uêb, “the sacred field.”[63] This
consecrated place was an Abaton, and unapproachable except for the
priests.

On the sixth of November we quitted the charming island, and commenced
our Ethiopian journey. Already at Debôd, the next temple lying to the
south, hieroglyphically Tabet (in Koptic perhaps [Illustration:
Koptic]), we found the sculptures of an Ethiopian King Arkamen, the
Ergamenes of the historians, who reigned at the time of Ptolemæus
Philadelphus, and stood probably in very friendly relations with Egypt.
In the French work on Champollion’s Expedition (I have not Rosellini’s
work with me) there is great confusion here. Several plates, belonging
to Dakkeh, are ascribed to Debôd, and _vice versâ_. At Gertassi we
collected nearly sixty Greek inscriptions. Letronne, who knew them
through Gau, has perhaps already published them; I am anxious to know
what he had made of the γόμοι, the priests of whom play a conspicuous
part in these inscriptions, and of the new Gods Σρούπτιχις and
Πουρεποῦνις.

With what inaccuracy the Greeks often caught up the Egyptian names is
again shown by the inscriptions of Talmis, which call the same god
Mandulis, which is distinctly enough in the hieroglyphic Meruli, and was
the local deity of Talmis. It is remarkable that the name of Talmis, so
frequently occurring in this temple, nowhere appears in the
neighbouring, though certainly much more ancient, the rock temple of Bet
el Ualli. Dendûr, also, had a peculiar patron, the God Petisi, who
appears nowhere else, and is usually named Peshir Tenthur; Champollion’s
plates are here again in strange disorder, the representations and the
inscriptions being wrongly put together.

The temples of Gerf Hussên and Sebûa are peculiarly remarkable, because
Ramses-Sesostris, who built them, here appears as a deity, and is
adorning himself, beside Phtha and Ammon, the two chief deities of this
temple. In the first, he is even once called “Ruler of the Gods.”

Champollion has well remarked, that all the temples of the Ptolemies and
Roman emperors in Nubia were probably only restorations of earlier
sanctuaries, which were erected in the old time by the Pharaohs of the
eighteenth and nineteenth dynasties. That was the temple of Pselchis,
first built by Tuthmosis III. Beside the scattered fragments of this
first building, which, however, was not dedicated to Thoth, as
Champollion thinks, but to Horus, and therefore underwent a later
change, we have found others of Sethos I. and Menephthes: also, it
appears that the earlier erection did not have its axis parallel with
the river like the later one, but, like almost all other temples, had
its entrances toward the river.

At the temple of Korte, the doorway only is inscribed with hieroglyphics
of the worst style. But these few were sufficient to inform us that it
was a sanctuary of Isis, here denominated “Lady of Kerte.” We also found
blocks rebuilt in the walls, which has escaped former travellers,
belonging to an earlier temple erected by Tuthmosis III., the
foundations of which may still be traced.

We gathered our last harvest of Greek inscriptions at Hierasykaminos. To
this place, the Greek and Roman travellers were protected by the
garrison of Pselchis; and by a fixed camp called Mehendi, some hours
southerly from Hierasykaminos, which is not mentioned in the maps.
Primis seems only to have had a temporary garrison during the campaign
of Petronius. Mehendi--which name probably only signifies the structure,
the camp in Arabic--is the best preserved Roman encampment that I have
ever seen. It lies upon a somewhat steep height, and thence commands the
river and a little valley extending on the south side of the camp from
the Nile, and turns the caravan road into the desert, which comes back
to the side of the river again at Medik. The wall of the town encloses a
square running down the hill a little to the east, and measuring one
hundred and seventy-five paces from south to north, and one hundred and
twenty-five from east to west. From the walls there rise regularly four
corner and four middle towers; of the latter, the south and north formed
also the gates, which, for the sake of greater security, led into the
city with a bend, and not in a direct line. The southern gate, and the
whole southerly part of the fortress, which comprehended about one
hundred and twenty houses, are excellently preserved. Immediately behind
the gate, one enters a straight street, sixty-seven paces long, which is
even now, with but little interruption, vaulted; several narrow
by-streets lead off on both sides, and are covered, like all the houses
of the district, with vaults of Nile bricks. The street leads to a great
open place in the middle of the city, by which lay, on the highest point
of the hill, the largest and best-built house--no doubt belonging to the
commandant--with a semicircular niche at the eastern end. The city
walls are built of unhewn stone; the gateway only, which has a
well-turned Roman arch, is erected of well-cut freestone, among the
blocks of which several are built in, bearing sculptures of pure
Egyptian, though late style, as a proof that there was an Egyptian or
Ethiopian sanctuary here (probably an Isis chapel) before the building
of the fortress. We discovered an Osiris head and two Isis heads; one of
which still distinctly bore the red marks of the third canon of
proportion.

The last monument we visited before our arrival in Korusko, was the
temple of Ammon in the Wadi Sebùa (Lion’s Dale); so called from the rows
of sphinxes which just peep out of the sand ocean that fell and covered
the whole temple as far as it was exposed. Even the western portion of
the temple, hewn in the rock, is filled with sand; and we had to summon
the whole crew of our bark to assist in obtaining an entrance into this
part. We encountered a novel and very peculiar combination of divine and
human natures in a group of four deities, the first of whom is called
“Phtha of Ramses in the house of Ammon;” the second, “Phtha,” with other
usual cognomens; the third, “Ramses in the house of Ammon;” and the
fourth, “Hathor.” In another inscription “Ammon of Ramses in the house
of Ammon” was named. It is difficult to explain this combination.[64]

I was not less astonished to find in the front court of the temple of
Ammon a representation of the posterity of the King Ramses-Miamun, in
number one hundred and sixty children, with their names and titles, of
which the greater part are scarcely to be read, as they are very much
destroyed, and others are covered with rubbish, and can only be reckoned
by the space they occupy. There were but twenty-five sons and ten
daughters of this great king previously known. The two legitimate wives
whose images appear on the monuments, he did not have at the same time,
but took the second at the death of the first. To-day we were visited by
the old, blind, but powerful and rich, Hassan Kachef, of Derr, who was
formerly the independent regent of Lower Nubia; he has had no less than
sixty-four wives, of which forty-two are yet remaining; twenty-nine of
his sons and seventeen daughters are yet living; how many have died, he
has probably never troubled himself to count, but, according to the
usual proportion of this country, they must have been about four times
the number of the living ones; therefore, about two hundred children.

Korusko is an Arab place, in the midst of the land of the Nubians, or
Barâbra (plural of Bérberi), who occupy the valley of the Nile from
Assuan to the other side of Dongola. This is an intelligent and honest
race, of peaceable, though far from slavish disposition, of handsome
stature, and with shining reddish brown skin.[65] The possession of
Korusko by Arabs of the Ababde tribes, who inhabit the whole of the
eastern desert, from Assuan down to Abu Hammed, may be accounted for by
the important position of the place, as the point whence the great
caravan road, leading directly to the province of Berber, departs, thus
cutting off the whole western bend of the Nile.

The Arabic language, in which we could now, at any rate, order and
question, and carry on a little conversation of politeness, had grown so
familiar to our ear in Egypt, that the Nubian language was attractive on
account of its novelty. It is divided, as far as I have yet been able to
ascertain, into a northern and a southern dialect, which meet at
Korusko.[66] The language is totally distinct in character to the
Arabic, even in the primary elements the consonantal and vocalic
systems. It is much more euphonious, as it has scarcely any doubling of
consonants, no harsh guttural tones, few sibilating sounds, and many
simple vowels, more distinctly separated than in Arabic, by which an
effeminate mixture of vowels is also avoided. It has not the slightest
connection in any part of its grammatical constitution, or in the roots,
either with the Semetic languages, nor with the Egyptian, or with our
own; and therefore, certainly belongs to the original African stock,
unconnected with the Ethiopic-Egyptian family, though the nation may be
comprehended by the ancients under the general name of Ethiopians, and
though their physical race may stand in a nearer relation to them. They
are not a commercial people, and therefore can only count up to twenty
in their language; the higher numbers are borrowed from the Arabic,
although they employ a peculiar term for one hundred, _imil_.[67]
Genders scarcely exist in the language, except in personal pronouns,
standing alone; they distinguish. “he” and “she,” but not “he gives” and
“she gives.” They use suffixed inflections, as in our languages, rather
than changes of accent, like the Semetic. The ordinals are formed by the
termination _iti_, the plural by _îgi_; they have no dual. The union of
the verb with the pronoun is both by prefix and affix, but is simple and
natural; they distinguish the present tense and the preterite; the
future is expressed by a particle, even for the passive they have a
peculiar formation. The root of negation is “_m_,” usually with the
following “_n_,” the single affinity, probably more than accidental
with other families of language. Their original number of roots is very
limited. They have certainly distinct words for sun, moon, and stars;
but the expressions for year, month, day, hour, they borrow from the
Arabic; water, ocean, river, are all signified by the same words with
_essi_, yet it is remarkable, that they designate the Nile by a peculiar
term _tossi_. For all native tamed wild animals, they have native names,
for houses, and even all that concerns shipping, they use Arabic terms;
the boat only they call _kub_, which has no very apparent connection
with the Arabic _mérkab_. For date-fruit and date-tree, which have
different designations in Arabic, _bellah_ and _nachele_, they have only
one word, _béti_ (_fentί_); the sycamore-tree they name in Arabic, but
it is remarkable, that they designate the sont-tree by the word for tree
in general. Spirit, God, slave, the ideas of relationship, the parts of
the body, weapons, field fruits, and what relates to the preparation of
bread, have Nubian names; while the words servant, friend, enemy,
temple, to pray, to believe, to read, are all Arabic. It is curious that
they have separate words for writing and book, but not for stylus, ink,
paper, letter. The metals are all named in Arabic, with the exception of
iron. Rich are they in Berber, poor in Arabic, and in fact they are all
rich in their poor country, to which they cling like Switzers, and
despise the Arab gold, that they might win in Egypt, where their
services, as guards and all posts of confidence, are much sought.

We now only stay for the arrival of the camels to begin our desert
journey. Hence to Abu Hammed, an eight days’ journey, we shall only find
drinkable water once, and then we shall continue our camel ride for four
more days to Berber. There we shall find barks, according to the
arrangements of Ahmed Pasha. We must then continue on to Chartûm, in
order to provision; to proceed higher up, to Abu Haras, and thence to
Mandera, in the eastern desert, will scarcely be worth while, if we may
believe Linant; but Ahmed Pasha has promised to send an officer to
Mandera, in order to test again the reports of the native.

This report I shall send with other letters by an express messenger to
Qeneh.

LETTER XVI.

KORUSKO.
_January 5, 1844._

With not a little sorrow, I announce to you that we shall probably have
to give up the second principal object of our expedition,--our Ethiopian
journey, and return northward hence. We have waited here in vain since
the 17th of November, for the promised but never-coming camels, which
are to bring us to Berber, and there seems to be no more chance of our
getting them now than at first. What we heard on our arrival, I am sorry
to say, is confirmed; the Arab tribes, who are the sole managers of
traffic, are dissatisfied with Mohammed Ali’s reduction of the rate from
80 to 60 piastres per camel hence to Berber; they have agreed among
themselves to send no more camels hither; and no _firman_, no promises,
no threats, will obviate this evil. A great number of trunks with
munition for Chartûm, have been lying here for ten months, and cannot be
sent on any further. We hoped for the assistance of Ahmed Pasha
Menekle,[68] the new Governor of the Southern Provinces, which he has
also promised us in the most friendly and unbounded manner. The officer
who has remained with the munition, received definite orders from him to
retain the first camels which arrived here, for our use. Notwithstanding
that, we shall scarcely attain our end. The Pasha himself could hardly
get on further, although he required but few camels. Some he had brought
from the north, and some he had assembled by force. Yet he was
ill-furnished enough on his departure, and half of his animals are said
to have become ill, or perished in the desert.

On the 3rd of December, as no camels came, although the Pasha must have
passed the province Berber, whence he was going to send us the necessary
number, I sent our own trustworthy and excellent _khawass_, Ibrahim Aga,
through nine days wilderness, to Berber, with Mohammed Ali’s _firman_.
In the meantime, we went on to Wadi Halfa to the second cataract,
visited the numerous monuments in that neighbourhood, and returned
hither in three weeks, with a rich harvest.

It is thirty-one days this morning, since our _khawass_ has departed,
and some time since I received a letter from the Mudhir of Berber, in
which I learn that the camels cannot be collected, although immediately
on the arrival of our _khawass_, and the delivery of the letter from the
Mudhir of this place, he sent out soldiers to get together the necessary
number of sixty camels. Matters are just the same there as here. The
authorities can do nothing against the ill-will of the Arabs.

On the sudden death, by poison, of Ahmed Pasha,[69] the governor of the
whole Sudan, at Chartûm, who, it is said, had for some time been
meditating an independence of Mohammed Ali, the south is divided into
five provinces, and placed under five pashas, who are to be installed
by Ahmed Pasha Menekle. One of them, Emir Pasha, was formerly Bey under
Ahmed Pasha, at Chartûm, whom he seems to have betrayed. Three others
arrived at Korusko, soon after Ahmed Pasha Menekle. Of these, the most
powerful, Hassan Pasha, is gone by water to Wadi Halfa, in his province
of Dongola; he was almost unattended, and required but a few camels to
get on farther. The second, Mustaffa Pasha, intended for Kordofan, has
seized on a trade caravan returning from Berber. The Arabs report,
however, that of these tired animals, a part have already become useless
before arriving at the wells, which lie at about four day’s journey into
the wilderness; there he found some merchants, eight of whose camels he
seized; the remainder of the caravan has not arrived here, but had taken
another road to Egypt for fear of being stopped again. The third, Pasha
Ferhât, is waiting here, at the same time with ourselves, and tries
every plan that he can think of, to procure a few camels from the north
or south. But every hope of ours thus becomes fainter and fainter, as we
cannot set the insignificant power of the authorities so mightily to
work as he, and have not now either _khawass_ or _firman_ with us.
Everyone, and the pashas most particularly, endeavours to comfort us
from day to day; but, meantime, the winter, the only time when we can do
anything in the Upper Country, elapses. To this must be added, that the
Mudhir of Lower Nubia, with whom we had become friendly, has been
accused to Mohammed Ali by the Nubian sheikh of his province, and had
just been summoned away by the viceroy, This region has been
provisionally placed under the jurisdiction of the Mudhir of Esneh, from
whose lieutenant, a young, and otherwise well-disposed man, there is
nothing to be obtained by us.

I have, therefore, made up my mind to the only practicable step. I will
myself go to Berber with Abeken upon a few camels, and leave Erbkam with
the rest of the company and all the luggage here. There I shall be able
to look into the matter myself, and try what can be done, with the aid
of the _khawass_ (whose authority I miss here much) and the _firman_. We
were received here by Ahmed Pasha Menekle in the most friendly manner,
and are assured of his most strenuous co-operation by the assistance of
his physician, our friend and countryman, Dr. O. Koch. Perhaps money or
threats will bring us sooner or later to our end. By a mere chance, I
have myself been able to secure six camels. Two more are wanting to
complete our little caravan. These two, however, the lieutenant of the
Mudhir cannot procure for us, even with the best desire. We have been
awaiting them three days, and know not whether we shall obtain them.

LETTER XVII.

E’ DAMER.
_January 24, 1844._

Our trouble has at last come to an end, though at a late period.
Yesterday I arrived here with Abeken, yet two days’ journey from the
pyramids of Meroë, and our whole camp probably was also yesterday
pitched near Abu Hammed, at the southern end of the great desert. After
the last little encouraging communication from Berber, I set out on the
8th of January about noon, with Abeken, the dragoman Juffuf Sherebîeh, a
cook, and ’Auad, our Nubian lad. We had eight camels, of whom two were
scarcely in condition for the journey, and two donkeys. As the promised
guide was not at his post, I made the camel-driver Sheikh Ahmed himself
accompany us, as he would be of service in consequence of the high
estimation in which he was held among the tribes of the resident
Abâbde-Arabs. We had beside these, a guide, Adâr, who was sent us
instead of the one promised, five camel-drivers; and soon after our
departure several foot-travellers joined us, besides two people with
donkeys, who took this opportunity of returning to Berber. We took with
us ten water-skins, some provision of rice, maccaroni, biscuit, and cold
meat, also a light tent, our coverlets to ride upon and sleep in, the
most necessary linen, and a few books; to this must be added a tolerable
stock of courage, which never fails me on a journey. Our friends
accompanied us for some distance into the rock valley, which soon
deprived us of all idea of the proximity of the shore and its friendly
palms.

The dale was wild and monotonous, nothing but sandstone rock, the
surfaces of which were burnt as black as coals, but turned into burning
golden yellow at every crack, and every ravine, whence a number of
sand-rivulets, like fire-streams from black dross, ran and filled the
valleys. The guides preceded us, with simple garments thrown over their
shoulders and around their hips, in their hands one or two spears of
strong light wood with iron points and shaft-ends; their naked backs
were covered by a round, or carved shield, with a far-reaching boss of
giraffe’s skin; other shields were oblong, and they are generally made
of the skin of the hippopotamus, or the back skin of the crocodile. At
night, and often during the day, they bound sandals under their feet,
the thongs of which are not unfrequently cut out of the same piece, and
being drawn between the great and second toes, surround the feet like a
skate.

Sheikh Ahmed was a splendid man, still young, but tall and well grown,
with peculiarly active limbs of shining black-brown hue, an expressive
countenance, a piercing, but gentle and slyly-glancing eye, and an
incomparably beautiful and harmonious pronunciation, so that I liked
much to have him about me, although we were always in a contention at
Korusko, as he was obliged to furnish the camels and their concomitants,
and through circumstances, could not or would not, procure them. Of his
activity and elasticity of limb he gave us a specimen in the desert, by
taking a tremendous run on the sandy and most unfavourable soil, and
leaping fourteen feet and a half; I measured it with his lance, which
was somewhat more than two metres in length. Adâr only, our under guide,
dared to try his powers after him, at my suggestion, but did not reach
the same distance by far.

We had departed on the first day early about eleven o’clock, and rode
till five, stayed for an hour and a half, and went on till half-past
twelve; then we pitched our tent upon the hard soil, and laid ourselves
down after a twelve hours’ march. The most interesting thing after the
hot active days was the evening tea, but we were obliged to accustom
ourselves to the leathery taste of the water, which was plainly to be
perceived even through both tea and coffee. The second day we stopped
for fourteen hours on our camels; we set out at eight, stopped in the
afternoon at four, to eat something, went on about half-past five, and
pitched for the night at half-past twelve, after having issued from the
mountains at about ten, at the rising of the moon, into a great plain.
No tree, no tuft of grass had we yet seen, also no animals, except a few
vultures and crows feeding on the carcase of the latest fallen camel. On
the third day, after an early beginning, we met a herd of 150 camels,
bought by government, to be taken to Egypt. The Pasha is going to import
several thousand camels from Berber, in order to obviate the consequence
of the murrain of last year; many had already come through Korusko
without our being able to avail ourselves of them, as they are the
private property of the Pasha; we could not have ridden on them, too, as
they had no saddles.

The guide of the herd, whom we met, gave us the long desired
intelligence that our _khawass_, Ibrahim Aga, had left Berber with a
train of sixty camels, and was quite in our vicinity, but on a more
westerly track. Sheikh Ahmed was sent after him, in order to bring in
three good camels instead of our weak ones, and to obtain any further
news from him. Next night, or at farthest in the following one, he was
to rejoin us. By the Chabîr (leader) of the train, I sent a few lines to
Erbkam. We stopped at half-past five, and stayed the night, in the hopes
of seeing Sheikh Ahmed earlier. Towards evening we first beheld the
scanty vegetation of the desert, thin greyish yellow dry stalks, hardly
visible close by, but giving the ground a light greenish yellow tint in
the distance, which alone drew my attention to it.

On the fourth day we ought actually to have been at the wells of
brackish but, for the camels, drinkable water; but in order not to go
too fast for Sheikh Ahmed, we halted at four o’clock, still about four
hours’ distance from the wells. At last, towards mid-day, we left the
great plain Bahr Bela ma, (river without water,) which joins the two
days’ long mountain range of El Bab, into which we had entered from
Korusko, and now neared other mountains. Till now we had had nothing but
uniform sandstone rocks beneath and around us, and it was a pleasing
circumstance when I perceived, from the high back of the camel, the
first plutonic rock in the sand. I slipped down immediately from my
saddle, and knocked off a piece; it was a grey green stone, of very
fine texture, and without a doubt of granitical nature. The other
mountains also were mostly composed of species of porphyry and granite,
with which the red syenite, so much employed by the ancient Egyptians,
as so extensively seen at Assuan, not unfrequently appears in broad
veins. Farther into the mountains quartz predominated, and it was
somewhat peculiar to see the snow-white flint veins peeping at different
heights from the black mountains, and flowing streamwise down into the
valley, where the white extended somewhat after the fashion of a lake. I
took small specimens, also some of the various kinds of rock.

After we had passed, crossing a little ravine, the little valley Bahr
Hátab, (Wood River, by reason of the wood somewhat farther in the
mountains), and another Wadi Delah, on the north side of the mountains,
we came to the rock-gorge of E’Sufr, where we expected to find
rain-water, to replenish our shrunken water-bags (_girbe_ pl. _geràb_).
In this high mountain it rains in one month of the year, about May. Then
the mighty basins of granite in the valleys are filled, and hold the
water for the whole year. On this plutonic rock, there was some little
vegetation to be seen, in consequence of the rain, and because the
granite seems to contain a somewhat more fertile element than the
sad-looking, brittle sand, composed almost wholly of particles of
quartz. At Wadi Delah, which has water in the rainy season, we came to a
long-continued row of dûm-palms, the rounded leaves and bushy growth of
which makes a less crude impression than the long slender-leaved
date-palms; the latter will not bear rain, and are therefore altogether
wanting in Berber, while the dûm-palms occur at first very singly in
Upper Egypt, and become more numerous, more full, and more large, the
farther they reach southward. When their fruit drops off unripe and dry,
the little eatable matter about the stone tastes like sugar; when ripe,
the yellow wood-flavoured meat may be eaten; it tastes well, and some
fruits had an aroma like the pine-apple. They sometimes grow to the size
of the largest apples.

At four o’clock we pitched our tent, the camels were sent behind into
the ravine where was the rain-water, and I and Abeken mounted our
donkeys, to accompany them to these natural cisterns. Over a wild and
broken path and cutting stones, we came deeper and deeper into the
gorge; the first wide basins were empty, we therefore left the camels
and donkeys behind, climbed up the smooth granite wall, and thus
proceeded amidst these grand rocks from one basin to another; they were
all empty; behind there, in the furthest ravine, the guide said there
must be water, for it was never empty: but there proved to be not a
single drop. We were obliged to return dry. The numerous herds which had
been driven from the Sudan to Egypt in the previous year, had consumed
it all. We had now only three skins of water, and therefore it was
necessary to do something. Higher up the pass, there were said to be
other cisterns; behind this ravine I proposed to climb the mountain with
the guide, but he considered it too dangerous; we therefore turned back
and rode to the camp, and at sundown the camels had to set forth again
to the northern mountains in search of water reported to exist at an
hour’s distance, and they returned late, bringing with them four
skins--the water was good and tasted well. Sheikh Ahmed, however, did
not return this night also, and we now hoped to meet him at the wells,
whither he might have hasted by a more southerly track.

We set out on the fifth day soon after sunrise, and entered the great
mountain passes of Roft, the uniform strata of which were first in
layers of slate, then more in blocks, and afterwards very rich in
quartz. The heat of the day was more oppressive in the mountains than in
the plains, where the continual north-wind created some degree of
coolness. Except the various sorts of rock, there was nothing of very
great attractiveness. I found a great ant-hill in the midst of the
desolate waste, and looked at it for a long time; they were small and
large shining black ants, who carried away all the grosser earthy
particles they could manage, and left the stones for walls; the larger
ones had heads comparatively twice as large as the others, and did not
work themselves, but acted as overseers, by giving a push to every
little ant who did not help to carry, which drove it forward and
instigated it to labour.

It is difficult to keep up a conversation on the clumsy camels, which
cannot be kept side by side so easily as horses or donkeys. If you have
a good dromedary (_heggîn_), and travel without luggage, or with very
little, the animal remains in trot. This is easy and not very tiring,
while it requires some time to accustom oneself to the slouching step of
the usual burthen-camel; this, however, we managed to lighten, by
occasionally mounting our donkeys, and often walked long distances early
in the morning and late at night.

I return to our fifth day in the desert, on which we set forth early,
about eight o’clock, from the little valley E’ Sufr, where we had
pitched our tent under some gum or sont-trees, and arrived at half-past
twelve, after we had left the road about half an hour, and turned to the
left into a wide valley, at the brackish wells of Wadi Murhad. Here we
had concluded about half of our journey; we saw a few huts built of
small stones and sedge, near which a couple of thin goats sought
fruitlessly for some food; our black host led us into an arbour of
bulrushes, where we made ourselves as comfortable as circumstances would
permit.

In this valley we had for some time observed the snow-white surface of
the natron on the sand, which makes the water in the valley brackish.
Toward the end of the valley, where it divides into two branches, there
are the standing waters, five or six feet below the surface, which have
been dug out into eight wells. The furthest wells have a greenish, salt,
and ill-tasting water, which, however, serves the camels very well; the
three front ones, however, have brighter water, which we could have
drunk very well, if it had been necessary. This is a government station
usually occupied by six people; at this time four were on an excursion
and only two in the place. Two ways led hence to Korusko, a western and
an eastern one; Ibrahim Aga had unfortunately chosen the former, by
which we had missed him, having ourselves taken the latter. Sheikh
Ahmed was not to be found here; probably he had only reached our camels
on the second day, and we were therefore obliged to proceed without him.

The Abâbde Arabs, with whom we had now everywhere to do, are a true and
trustworthy people, from whom one has less to fear than from the cunning
thievish Fellahs of Egypt. To the north-east of them are the Bishari
tribes, who speak a peculiar language, and are now at bitter feud with
the Abâbde, because they waylaid and murdered some Turkish soldiers two
years ago in the little valley, where we stayed the night, and for which
Hassan Chalif, the superior sheikh of the Abâbde, to whose care the
highway between Berber and Korusko is committed, had nearly forty of the
Bishari executed. With the aid of the Abâbde, too, Ismael Pasha had been
able four-and-twenty years before to bring his army though the desert
and seize the Sudan. Guides are only posted by government along the road
by which we were coming, but not on the longer but better watered line
from Berber to Assuan, which is now little used.

At half-past four we rode away from the wells, after we had examined
some _hagr mektub_ (written stones, for which we everywhere inquired),
on some rocks in the neighbourhood, where a number of horses, camels,
and other animals had been rudely scratched, at some by no means modern
period, in the same manner as we had often seen in Nubia. At half-past
nine we halted for the night, after we had left the mountains an hour
and a half. On the morning of the sixth day we passed the wide plain of
Múndera, to which another high mountain range called Abu Sihha joins;
the southern frontier of this plain, by those mountains, they call
Abdêbab; the southern part of the Roft mountains behind us, Abu Senejât.

At three o’clock we left the plain, and entered the mountains again,
which, like the former ranges, were of granite. Half an hour later we
halted for a noontide rest. After two hours we rode on and encamped
about midnight, after passing through another little plain, and the
mountains of Adar Auîb into the next plain, comprehended under the same
designation, which stretches to the last mountains of this desert, Gebel
Graibât.

On the seventh day we set forth at the early hour of half-past seven,
and came at last beyond Gebel Graibât, into a great and boundless plain,
Adererât, which we did not leave until our arrival at Abu Hammed. To the
south-west the little mountain El Farût, and the higher range Mograd,
were in sight; in the far-east there joins another mountain to Adur
Auîb, that of Abu Nugâra. South-easterly there are the other mountain
chains of Bishari, the names of which were unknown to our Abâbde guides.
The beginning of the plain of Adererât was quite covered for hours with
beautiful pure flint, which sometimes jutted out of the sand, as rock,
although the principal sort of rock continued to be black granite, which
was intersected about noon by a broad vein of red granite. Early in the
day a small caravan of merchants passed us at some distance.

We saw the most beautiful _mirages_ very early in the day; they most
minutely resemble seas and lakes, in which mountains, rocks, and
everything in their vicinity, are reflected like in the clearest water.
They form a remarkable contrast with the staring dry desert, and have
probably deceived many a poor wanderer, as the legend goes. If one be
not aware that no water is there, it is quite impossible to distinguish
the appearance from the reality. A few days ago I felt quite sure that I
perceived an overflowing of the Nile, or a branch near El Mechêref, and
rode towards it, but only found Bahr Sheitan, “Satan’s water,” as the
Arabs call it.

By day the caravan road cannot easily be missed, even when the sand has
destroyed every trace of it; it is marked by numberless camels’
skeletons, of which several are always in sight; I counted forty-one
within the last half-hour before sunset, on the previous day. Of our
camels, however, although they had not long rested in Korusko, and got
scarcely anything to eat or drink on the way, none were lost. Mine, in
whose mouth I had occasionally put a bit of biscuit, used to stretch
back his long neck in the middle of the march, until it laid its head
with its large tender eyes in my lap, in order to get some more.

We halted at about four o’clock in the afternoon for two hours, and then
proceeded till eleven, when we pitched our camp in the great plain. The
wind, however, was so violent, that it was impossible to fasten up our
tents. Notwithstanding the ten iron rings which are prepared for keeping
it up, it fell three times before it was quite finished; we, therefore,
let it lie, laid our own selves down behind a little wall, that the
guide had constructed of camel saddles as a shelter, and slept _à la
belle étoile_.

On the eighth day we might have arrived at Abu Hammed late in the
evening, but we resolved to stay the night at an hour’s distance from
that place, that we might reach the Nile by day. The birds of prey
increased in the neighbourhood of the river; we scared away thirty
vultures from the fresh carcase of a camel; the day before I had shot a
white eagle, and some desert partridges, which were seeking _durra_
grains on the caravan road. We only saw traces of wild beasts by the
carcases; they did not trouble us at night, as in the camp at Korusko,
where we had shot a hyæna, and several jackals. In the afternoon we met
a slave caravan. The last encampment before reaching Abu Hammed was less
windy, but our coals were exhausted, and the servants had forgotten to
gather camel’s dung for the fire; therefore we were obliged to drink the
last brown skin-water without boiling it, to quench our thirst. The
donkeys could not be spared any of it.

We ascended the high thrones of our camels on the 16th of January, at
half-past seven o’clock in the morning, and looked down thence towards
the Nile. It was, however, only visible shortly before our arrival. The
stream here does not flow through a broad valley, but runs along a bare
rock-channel, that stretches through the flat wide plain of rock. On the
other side of the river only was there any appearance of the valley, and
on an island formed there stood a few dûm-palms. A little way from the
shores we met another train of 150 camels, which had just left Abu
Hammed. Then came an extensive earthwork, with a few towers like
fortifications, which had been erected by the great Arab sheikh Hassan
Chalif, for government stores. A little ravine contains five huts, one
of stones and earth, another of tree trunks, two of mats, and one of
_bus_ or _durra_ straw; then a wider place opened, surrounded with
several poor-looking houses, one of which was prepared for us. A brother
of Hassan Chalif, who resides here, came to receive us, led us into the
house, and offered us his services. A few _anqarêb_ (cane bed-places),
which are much used here, on account of the creeping vermin, were
brought in, and we established ourselves for that day and the following
night; we felt that we must give the camels so much grace.

A great four-cornered space surrounded us, thirty feet on every side,
the walls formed of stone and earth; a couple of trees, forked at the
top, bore a great trunk for an architrave, above which there were again
other roof-branches laid, and bound up and covered with mats and
hurdles. It reminded me much of a primeval architecture which we had
found imitated on the rock caves of Beni-hassan; there were the same
pillars, the same network of the roof, through which, except by the
door, as at those caves, the light only entered by one four-cornered
opening in the middle, at the top, and no windows. The door-posts were
composed of four short trunks, of which the upper one quite resembled
the lintel in the graves of the pyramid era. We hung up a curtain before
the door, to protect us from the wind and dust; at the opposite corner,
a doorway led into a space that was used as a kitchen. The day was
windy, and the air unpleasantly filled with sand, so that we could
scarcely get out of doors. We refreshed ourselves, however, with pure,
cool Nile water, and an excellent dinner of mutton. The great desert was
behind us, and we had only four days more to El Mechêref, the chief,
town of Berber, following the course of the river. We learned that Ahmed
Pasha Menekle was in our neighbourhood, or would soon arrive, in order
to make a military expedition from Dâmer, a short day’s journey on the
other side of El Mechêref, up the Atbara, to the province of Taka, where
some of the Bishari tribes had revolted.

When we came forth the next morning, our Arabs had all anointed
themselves and put on good clothes; but what more particularly surprised
us was the sight of their stately white wigs, making them look quite
reverend. It is a part of their “dress,” to comb the hair into a high
_toupé_, which is sprinkled with peculiar finely drifted butter, shining
white, as if with powder. In a little while, however, when the sun is
risen higher, this fat snow melts, and then the hair looks all covered
with innumerable pearly dew-drops, till these, too, disappear, and run
down their shoulders and neck from their dark brown hair, spreading a
light upon their well-burned limbs, like antique bronze statues.

We set forward the next morning at eight o’clock, with a new camel that
we had found opportunity to exchange for a tired one. The valley becomes
broader and more fertile the nearer we come to the island of Meroë; the
desert itself became more rank and wild, like steppes. The first station
was Geg, where we spent the night in an open space; the air is very,
very warm; at half-past five in the afternoon we had 25° Reaumur. The
second night we stayed on the other side of Abu Hashîn, in the
neighbourhood of a village, which is in reality no station, as we
desired to pass the five usual stations in four days; the third day we
stopped out in the air by a cataract of the Nile. On the fourth day from
Abu Hammed, we kept a little further away from the river in the desert,
but still within the limits of the original valley, if I may so call a
yellow earth, which is not covered by the inundations, but is dug out by
the villagers immediately below the sand, in order to mend their fields.
We halted in the evening at the village of El Chôr, an hour from El
Mechêref, and arrived in the metropolis of the province of Berber early
on the fifth day.

I sent the dragoman forward to announce us, and to demand a house, which
we received, and immediately entered upon. The Mudhir of Berber was in
Dâmer; his vakeel, or lieutenant, visited us, and soon came Hassan
Chalif, the chief Arab sheikh, who promised us better camels to Dâmer,
was rejoiced to hear good tidings of his and our friends, Linant and
Bonomi, and amused himself with our own books of plates, in which he
found portraits of his relations and ancestors. We had scarcely arrived,
ere we received intelligence that Hassan Pasha had entered the town on
another side. He had journeyed from Korusko to his province of Dongola,
and now returned from Edabbe, on the southern boundaries of Dongola,
right through the desert of El Mechêref, where Enrin, the new Pasha of
Chartûm, had come to meet him. The rencontre caused some disturbance in
our plans; but we managed to travel southward on the next morning, the
22nd of January, soon after Hassan Pasha’s departure, after leaving two
camels, no longer wanted for water-carrying, behind, and exchanging
three others for better ones.

We rode off towards noon, and stayed in the evening at the last village,
before the river Mogrân, the ancient Astaboras, which we had to pass
before reaching Dâmer. It is called in the maps Atbara, evidently a
corruption of Astaboras; but this designation seems to be applied to the
upper river, from the place of that name, and not to the lower one. Next
morning we passed the river near its _embouchment_. Even here it was
very narrow in its great bed, which it entirely fills in the rainy
season, while for two months it is only prevented from disappearing
entirely by some stagnating water. On the other side of the river, we
landed on the island of Meroë of Strabo, by which name the land between
the Nile and Astaboras was designated. Yet two hours and we reached
Dâmer.

The houses were too poor to take us in; I therefore sent Jussuf to Emin
Pasha, in whose province we now were, and who had encamped, with Hassan
Pasha, on the shore of the river. He sent a _khawass_ to meet us, and to
invite us to dine with him. I, however, judged it more expedient to
pitch our tent at some distance, and to change our travelling costume.
Immediately the Mudhir of Berber paid us his visit, to ask after our
wishes, and soon after Emin Pasha sent an excellent dinner to our tent,
consisting of four well-prepared dishes, and besides that, a lamb
roasted whole upon the spit and filled with rice, and a flat cake filled
with meat.

Toward Asser (three o’clock in the afternoon) we had our visit
announced; just as we were about to proceed to it, we heard the singing
of sailors; two boats came swimming down the stream with red flags and
crescents: it was Ahmed Pasha Menekle returning from Chartûm. The Pasha
and the Mudhir immediately proceeded on board, and they did not separate
till late; our friend, Dr. Koch, was unfortunately not expected from
Chartûm for two days. I had received a note from Erbkam at an early
period after my arrival, in which he informed me, by the medium of a
passing _khawass_, that he had left Korusko with Ibrahim Aga, on the
15th of January; he wrote from their first camp. The _khawass_ had
ridden with incredible swiftness from Cairo to Berber, in fourteen days,
and brought Ahmed Pasha the desired permission to raise the government
price for the camels from Korusko to Berber, from sixty piasters to a
higher price than before, _i. e._ ninety piasters.

January 26th. The day before yesterday we made our visit to Ahmed Pasha,
which he returned yesterday. He will do everything to facilitate our
further journey. He informed us, that he, in accordance with his former
promise, had sent an officer from Abu Haras to Mandera, three days into
the desert, and had obtained the information from him that great ruins
were existing there. The same was told us yesterday in a letter by Dr.
Koch, and confirmed to-day by his word of mouth. After dinner he will
bring us Musa Bey, who has been there. He also announced to us that some
letters had arrived for us, and were deposited at Chartûm, and that the
artist sent for from Rome had arrived at Cairo.

For our fellow-travellers a bark is prepared at El Mechêref; but I shall
precede them with Abeken. Ahmed Pasha sends me word, that in an hour a
courier will leave for Cairo, who shall bear these letters.

POSTSCRIPT.--The magnificent news from Mandera does not seem to be
confirmed on closer inquiry. It will hardly be worth while to go
thither.

LETTER XVIII.

ON THE BLUE RIVER, PROVINCE OF SENNÂR.
13° North Latitude, _March 2, 1844_.

To-day we reach the southernmost boundary of our African journey.
To-morrow we go northward and homeward again. We shall come as far as
the neighbourhood of Sero, the frontier between the provinces of Sennâr
and Fasoql. Our time will not admit of more stay. I have travelled from
Chartûm hither with Abeken only. We gave up the desert journey to
Mandera, the rather as the eastern regions are now unsafe by reason of
the war in Taka. I now employ the time in learning the nature of the
river, and the neighbouring country some days’ journey beyond Sennâr.
The journey is worth the trouble, for the character of the whole land
decidedly changes in soil, vegetation, and animals, on passing Abu
Haras, between Chartûm and Sennâr, at the _embouchure_ of the Rahad. It
was necessary for me to gain as much personal knowledge of the whole
Nile valley, as far up as possible, since the nature of this country, so
limited in its width, has more influence than anything else upon the
progress of its history.

On the White River one cannot journey for more than a few days to the
frontier of Mohammed Ali’s conquests, without peculiar preparations and
precautions. There are found the Shilluk on the western shore, and on
the eastern, the Dinka, both native negro people, who are never the
best friends with the northern folk. The Blue River is accessible to a
much higher extent, and was, and is now, historically, of more
consequence than the White, as it is the channel of communication
between the north and Abyssinia. I should like to have proceeded into
the province of Fasoql, the last under Egyptian dominion; but that will
not tally with our reckoning; so we shall put a period to our southern
journey to-night.

But I return in my reports to Dâmer, where I embarked on the 27th of
January with Abeken, in the bark of Musa Bey, Ahmed Pasha’s first
adjutant, who had kindly placed it at our disposal. We stopped for the
night at about eight o’clock in the evening, near the island of Dal
Haui. We had obtained a _khawass_ from Emin Pasha, the same who had come
hither on the conquering of the country with Ismael Pasha, who had
accompanied the Defterdar Bey to Kordofan, (or, according to his
pronunciation, Kordifal), who had then journeyed with the same on his
errand of vengeance to Shendi for the murder of Ismael, and since then
had traversed the whole Sudan in every direction for three and twenty
years. He has the most perfect map of these countries in his head, and
possesses an astounding memory for names, bearings, and distances, so
that I have based two charts upon his remarks, which are not without
geographical interest in some parts. He has also been to Mekka, and
therefore likes to be addressed as Haggi Ibrahim (Pilgrim Ibrahim.) In
other things, too, he has much experience, and will be very useful to
us by reason of his long and extended acquaintance with the land.

On the twenty-eighth of January, we stopped about noon at an island
called Gomra, as we heard that there were ruins in the vicinity which we
should like to see. We had to proceed through a flat arm of the Nile,
and ride for an hour on the eastern shore to the north. There at last we
found, after passing the villages of Motmár and El Akarid, between a
third village, Sagâdi, and a fourth, Genna, the inconsiderable ruins of
a place built of bricks, and strewn with broken tiles.

We returned but little satisfied amidst the noon-day heat, and arrived
with our bark only just before sunset in Begerauîe, in the neighbourhood
of which are situated the pyramids of Meroë. It is remarkable that this
place is not mentioned by Cailliaud. He only speaks of the pyramids of
Assur, _i.e._ Sûr, or e’Sûr. The whole plain in which the ruins of the
city and the pyramids lie bears the same name; and, besides this, a
portion of Begerauîe, which, probably by a slip of the pen, is called
Begromi by Hoskins.

Although it was already dark, I rode with Abeken to the pyramids, which
stand a short hour’s ride inland, upon the slopes of the low hills that
stretch along eastward. The moon alone, which was in its first quarter,
sparingly lighted the plain, covered with stones, low underwood, and
rushes. After a sharp ride, we came to the foot of a row of pyramids,
which rose before us in the form of a crescent, as was rendered
necessary by the ground. To the right joins another row of pyramids, a
little retreating; a third group lies more to the south in the plains,
too far off to be distinguished in the dim moonlight. I tied the bridle
of my donkey round a post, and climbed up the first mound of ruins.

The single pyramids are not so exactly placed as in Egypt; yet the
ante-chambers, which are here built on to the body of the structures
themselves, all lie turned away from the river toward the east,
doubtless for the same religious reason which actuated the Egyptians
also to turn the entrance of the detached temples before their pyramids
to the east, thus river-ward at Gizeh and Saqâra, but the tombs toward
the west.

Half looking, half feeling, I found some sculptures on the outer walls
of the tomb temple, and also perceived figures and writing on the inner
walls. I recollected that I had a candle-end in the wallet of my donkey;
this I lighted, and examined several ante-chambers. Then immediately the
forms of the Egyptian Gods--Osiris, Isis, Nephthys, Atmu, &c., came out
with their names in the well-known hieroglyphics.[70] In the first
chamber, too, I found the cartouche of a king. One of the two rings
contained the signs of a great Pharaoh of the Old Empire, Sesurtesen I.;
the same was assumed by two later Egyptian kings, and now encountered
for the fourth time as the throne-name of an Ethiopian king. The
sculptures on the other side were not ended. On the same evening, I also
found royal names in another ante-chamber, but they were rather
illegible. Both writing and representations had, in fact, suffered much.
The pyramids, like those in Egypt, have lost their tops, and many are
totally destroyed.

Our new _khawass_, who would not leave us in the night, had followed
immediately. He knew the locality perfectly, as he had been here a long
time with Ferlini, and had assisted him in the examination of the
pyramids. He showed us the place in the pyramid where Ferlini, in 1834,
discovered the rich treasure of gold and silver rings built in the wall.

I also discovered a case-pyramid that evening, enlarged according to the
principle of the Egyptian pyramids by a later mantle of stone. According
to the inscriptions and representations in the antechambers, these
pyramids are chiefly built for kings, and a few perhaps for their wives
and children. The great number of them argues for a long series of
kings, and a well-grounded empire that probably lasted for a number of
centuries.

The most important results of this examination by moon and candlelight
was, however, not the most agreeable; I was fully convinced that I had
before me here, on the most celebrated spot of ancient Ethiopia, nothing
but the ruins of comparatively recent art.[71] Already, at an earlier
period, had I judged from the monuments of Ferlini, drawings of which I
had seen in Rome, and the originals in London, that they were certainly
produced in Ethiopia, but not in any case earlier than the first century
before the Christian era; therefore, at about the same period to which a
few veritable Greek and Roman works belong, which we discovered together
with the Ethiopian treasure. And I must say the same now of all the
monuments not only situated here, but upon the whole island of Meroë, as
well of all the pyramids near Begerauîe, as of the temples of Ben Naga,
of Naga, and of the Wadi e’ Sofra (Cailliaud’s Mesaurât), which we have
subsequently seen. The representations and inscriptions leave not the
least doubt on the subject, and it will be for ever in vain to attempt
the support of the much-loved idea of an ancient Meroë, glorious and
famous, the inhabitants of which were the predecessors and teachers of
the Egyptians in civilisation, by referring to its monumental remains.

Yet this conviction is of no little value, and appears to throw a
certain degree of light upon the historical connection of Egypt and
Ethiopia, the importance of which will first be fully developed at the
monuments of Barkal. There, no doubt, will be found the oldest Ethiopian
memorials, although perhaps not earlier than the time of Tarhaka, who
reigned contemporaneously over Egypt and Ethiopia, in the seventh
century before Christ.

We rode back to the pyramids the next morning with the sunrise, and
found fifteen various royal names, but some in a very bad condition.

We had just completed the survey of the two north-easterly groups of
pyramids, and were riding towards the third, which lies in the plain not
far from the ruins of the city, and is perhaps the oldest Necropolis,
when we heard shots from the shore, and saw white sails fluttering on
the river. Soon after Erbkam, the two Weidenbachs, and Franke came
walking over the plain, and greeted us already from afar. We scarcely
expected them so soon, and therefore the meeting was the more pleasant.
We could now continue our journey to Chartûm all together.

At two o’clock in the afternoon we went off, and reached Shendi at
about ten the next morning. After dinner we went on, stayed the night on
the island Hobi, and came the next morning early to Ben Naga. Here we
first visited the ruins of two little temples, of which the west one had
Typhon columns instead of pillars, but showed no writing on its few
remains; in the other eastern one there were a few sculptures preserved
on the low wall, and writing on a few round pillars, but too little that
anything connected might be gathered from it. Excavations might probably
discover royal names; but such an attempt is only possible on our
return.

Some camels were procured for the next morning, and I rode off with
Abeken, Erbkam, and Maximilian Weidenbach at nine o’clock for Naga. So
are the ruins of a city and several temples named, which lie in the
eastern wilderness, at a distance of seven or eight hours from the Nile.
From our landing-place, near the only palm group of the whole region, we
only wanted half an hour to the village of Ben Naga, which lies in Wadi
Teresîb. One hour eastward, down the river (for it flows from west to
east here), the ruins are situated, where we had landed the day before,
in the Wadi el Kirbegân; we now passed them on the left, and rode
south-east into the wilderness, sparely grown with dry underwood,
crossed the valley El Kirbegân, which stretches hither from the river,
and in which we found a camp of Abâbde Arabs.

After four and a half hours from Ben Naga, we arrived at a solitary
mountain in the wilderness, named Buêrib. This lay between the little
southwestern wadis (so they call even the most level sinkings of the
plain, when the water runs off, and which we should scarcely call
valleys) and the great wide Wadi Auatêb, into which we now descended,
after we had passed the Buêrib at a little distance to the left. In
three and three quarter hours from Buêrib, we came to the ruins of Naga.

The enigma which I had vainly endeavoured to unriddle, and which neither
Cailliaud nor Hoskins had explained, as to how it was possible to build
a city and sustain it in the midst of the desert so far from the river,
was first solved in the vicinity of the temple. The whole valley of
Auatêb is still cultivated land. We found it covered far and wide with
_durra_ stubble. The inhabitants of Shendi, Ben Naga, Fadnîe, Sélama,
Metamme, thus of both sides of the Nile, come hither to cultivate the
land, and to harvest _durra_. The tropical rain is sufficient to
fertilise the soil of this flat but extensive level, and in ancient
times it is probable that more was obtained from this region by greater
care. For the dry season there were no doubt large artificial cisterns,
like those we found at the most distant ruins north of Naga, although
without water.

The ruins lie at the end of a mountain chain which extends for several
hours, having received the name of Gebel e’ Naga, and running from north
to south; Wadi Auatêb passes along its western side toward the river.
After an uninterrupted ride, we arrived at about half-past five. By the
way we saw the road covered with the traces of gazelles, wild asses,
foxes, jackals, and ostriches. Lions, too, sometimes come hither, but we
saw no signs of them.

Before the coming of night I visited the three principal temples, which
all belong to a very late period, and do not admit of a single idea
concerning any antiquity, which Cailliaud and Hoskins imagined they
perceived. A fourth temple stand besides the three principal temples in
Egyptian architecture, the well turned, and not unpleasingly selected
Egyptian ornamental style of which, not only manifests the time of the
universal dominion of the Romans, but also the presence of Roman
builders. This has no inscriptions. Of the three others, the two
southernmost are built by one and the same king; on both he is
accompanied by a representation of the same queen. There is behind them
yet another royal personage, bearing different names on the two temples.
The name of the king has again the cartouch of Sesurtesen I. added,
although he does not appear to be the same with the king at the pyramids
of Sûr; and the two other persons have also old Egyptian cartouches,
which might easily lead to mistakes.

The third and northern temple has suffered much, and had but little
writing now, yet a king is mentioned on the door lintels, who is
different from the builder of the two others.

The forms of the gods are almost Egyptian, yet there is on the southern
temple a shape unknown in Egypt, with three lions’ heads (perhaps there
is a fourth behind) and four arms. This may be the barbarous god
mentioned by Strabo, which the Meroites revered beside Herakles, Pan,
and Isis.

Next morning, the 2nd of February, we visited the three temples again,
took a few paper impressions, and then went our way to the third group
of monuments, named Mesaurât, by Cailliaud. This is, however, a
designation employed for all three groups of ruins, and which signifies
“pictures,” or “walls decked with pictures.” The ruins of Ben Naga are
called Mesaurât el Kirbegân, because they lie in the Wadi el Kirbegân;
only the southern-most group, it seems, has retained its ancient name
Naga or Mesaurât e’ Naga; the third toward Shendi, called Mesaurât e’
Sofra, from the mountain-crater where it lies, and which is named e’
Sofra, the table.

We followed the mountain chain, Gebel e’ Naga, in the valley Auatêb, for
two hours in a northward direction. Then, at about half-past twelve
o’clock, we passed through the first ravine, opening to the right into a
more elevated valley, e’Siléha, which becoming wider behind the hills,
overgrown with grass and bushes, opens (in the direction of S.S.W. to
N.N.E.) after an hour and a half, to the left into the valley of Auatêb,
and in front toward another smaller valley, from which it is separated
by the Gebel Lagâr. This little valley it is which is called e’Sofra,
from its round form; here too lie the ruins which Hoskins saw, though he
did not penetrate to Naga. At a quarter past two we arrived, and had
therefore consumed not quite four hours from Naga hither. As we were
going to take a rapid survey of the whole, we walked through the
extensive ruins of the principal building, which Cailliaud had taken for
a great school, Hoskins for a hospital; and we perceived from the few
sculptures, unaccompanied by inscriptions, that we had before us also
here late monuments, probably younger than those of Sûr and Naga. Then
we went to the little temple near (on the pillars of which we found
riders on elephants and lions, and other strange barbaric
representations), looked at the large artificial cistern, now called Wot
Mahemût, which must have taken the place of the river during the dry
season, and rode back again to Ben Naga, at four o’clock.

When we came forth from the mountains, we met great herds of wild asses,
which always stopped a little in front of us, as if inviting us to chase
them. They are grey or reddish grey, with a white belly, and all have a
strongly marked black stripe down the back; the tip of the tail, too, is
usually black. Many are caught when young, but are not fit for carriage
or riding then. The next generation is only to be employed for these
purposes. Almost all the domesticated donkeys in the south, above the
Ass Cataract (Shellâl homâr), in Berber, are of the race of these wild
asses, and have the same colour and marks.

We pitched our tents in the rank-grown plain soon after sundown. The
camel-drivers and our _khawass_ were terribly afraid of the lions in
this desert, until a great fire was lighted, which they carefully kept
up the whole night through. When a lion lets his voice be heard in the
vicinity of a caravan, sounding indeed deeply and dreadly through the
whole wilderness, all the camels run away like mad, and are difficult of
being secured, often not until they have suffered and done some injury.
Some days ago a camel was strangled by a lion in our vicinity, although
on the opposite side of the river; a man that was there saved himself
on the next tree.

On the 3rd of February, we rode off again at seven o’clock, leaving the
two Buêrib, the great “blue” one and the little “red” one, a good
distance to the left, and came into the valley El Kirbegân shortly
before nine o’clock. This we followed for half an hour riverward, seeing
the Mesaurât el Kirbegân to the right; but we now stopped on the hills,
until we arrived at Ben Naga, a little after eleven o’clock, and half an
hour at our landing place.

After two hours we went on in our bark. With a strong contrary wind we
made but little way, and saw nothing new, except a swimming
hippopotamus. Next morning we landed on the western shore, opposite the
village of Gôs Basabir, to inspect the ruins of an old fortress wall
with towers of defence, which encircled a hill top. The place was about
three hundred paces in diameter. After mid-day, we neared the Shellâl
(cataracts) of Gerashâb; the higher mountains before us came nearer, and
at last formed a great pool, apparently without any outlet; however, it
was really close at hand, as we turned into a narrow gorge, widening
into a high and wild rock valley, that we followed for almost an hour
before we came into another plain on the opposite side. The Qirre
granite mountains running through here, end on the eastern side of the
river in a peak called the Rauiân, “the Satisfied;” while westward, at
some distance from the river, standing equally alone, is the Atshân,
“the Thirsty.”

On the 5th of February, we landed early at Tamamiât, about 11 o’clock.
Mohammed Said, the former treasurer of the deceased Ahmed Pasha, whose
acquaintance we had made in Dâmer, had given us a letter to one of the
under-officials there, containing directions to deliver to us the
fragment of an inscription found at Soba. It was in the middle of a
marble tablet, written on both sides with late Greek or Koptic letters.
The signs, which were plainly visible, contained neither Greek nor
Koptic words, only the name [Illustration: Koptic] was decipherable. The
same evening we arrived at Chartûm. This name signified “elephant’s
trunk,” and is probably derived from the narrow tongue of land between
its Niles, on which the city lies.

My first visit with Abeken was to Emin Pasha, who had already reached
Chartûm before us. He received us very kindly, and would not let us
leave him the whole morning.

An excellent breakfast, comprising about thirty dishes, which we took
with him, gave us a very interesting insight into the mysteries of
Turkish cookery, which (as I learnt from our well-fed Pasha), in the
matter of the preparation and arrangement of the dishes, like the
systems of the latest French cookery, follow the rules of a more refined
taste. Soon after the first dish comes lamb, roasted on the spit, which
must never be wanting at any Turkish banquet. Then follow several
courses of solid and liquid, sour and sweet dishes, in the order of
which a certain kind of recurring change is observed, to keep the
appetite alive. The _pilau_ of boiled rice is always the concluding
dish.

The external adjuncts to such a feast as this, are these:--A great
round plate of metal, with a plain edge of three feet in diameter, is
placed on a low frame, and serves as a table, about which five or six
people can repose on rugs, or cushions. The legs are hidden in the
extensive folds which encircle the body. The left hand must remain
invisible; it would be very improper to expose it in any way while
eating. The right hand alone is permitted to be active. There are no
plates and knives or forks. The table is decked with dishes, deep and
shallow, covered and uncovered; these are continually being changed, so
that but little can be eaten from each. Some, however, as roast meat,
cold milks and gerkins, &c., remain longer, and are often recurred to.
Before and after dinner they wash their hands. An attendant or slave
kneels with a metal basin in one hand, and a piece of soap on a little
saucer, on the other; with the other hand he pours water over the hands
of the washer from a metal jug; over his arm hangs an elegantly
embroidered napkin, for drying one’s hand upon.

After dinner, pipes and coffee are immediately handed round, after which
time one may withdraw. The Turks then take a sleep until Asser. But ere
we parted from our host, he had a number of weapons, lances, bows,
arrows, clubs, and a sceptre of the upper wild nations, sent to my bark,
as a guest present.

We then visited our countryman, Neubauer, the apothecary of the
province, who had been very unfortunate. A short while before, he had
been removed from his post by the deceased Ahmed Pasha, but was now
again instituted apothecary by Ahmed Pasha Menekle, through Dr. Koch’s
interest. Then we went to the house of a resident Pole, named
Hermanowitch, the principal physician of the province, who offered us
his house in accordance with a command of the Pasha, whither we removed
on the following day. It had just been repaired, and by it were a garden
and court, very useful to us for the unpacking and mending of our chests
and tents.

Next day the Pasha returned our visit. He came on horseback. We offered
coffee, pipes, and sherbet, and showed him some pictures from Egypt, in
which he took a lively interest. He is a man of tall and corpulent
stature, a Circassian by birth, and therefore, like most of his
countrymen, better informed than the Turks. At the house of a Syrian,
Ibrahim Chêr, I saw a rich collection of all the ornithological species
of the Sudan, in number about three hundred; of each twenty to thirty
carefully selected specimens.

A day or two after I took a walk with Abeken and Erbkam, to the opposite
side of the promontory, toward the White River, which we followed to its
union with the Blue River. Its water is, in fact, whiter, and tastes
less agreeably than that of the Blue, because it runs slowly through
several lakes in the upper countries, the standing waters of which lakes
impart to it an earthy and impure taste. I have filled several bottles
with the water of the Blue and the White Nile, which I shall bring home,
sealed down.

At a subsequent friendly visit of the Pasha, we met the brother of the
former Sultan of Kordofan (who was himself also called Mak or Melek),
and the Vizier of Sultan Nimr (Tiger), of Shendi. The latter still
resides in Abyssinia, whither he fled after he had burned the conqueror
of his country, Ismael Pasha, Mohammed Ali’s son, and all his officers,
at a nightly banquet in 1822.

We went up the White River on the 14th, but soon returned, as it has so
weak a current that, by the present prevailing north wind, the way back
is somewhat difficult. The shores of the White River are desolate, and
the few trees, which formerly stood in the vicinity of Chartûm, are now
cut down and used for building or burning. The water mass of the White
River is greater than that of the Blue, and retains its direction after
their union, so the Blue River is to be looked upon rather as a
tributary, but the White River as the actual Nile. Their different
waters may be distinguished long after their juncture.

On the 16th of February, I sent for some Dinka slaves, to inquire into
their language; but they were so hard of comprehension, that I could
only, with great trouble, obtain from them the names of the numbers up
to one hundred, beside a few pronouns. The languages of the Dinka and
the Shilluk, who live several days’ journey up the White River, the
former on the eastern, the latter on the western shore, are as little
known in respect to their grammatical structure, as those of most of the
Central African Nations; and I therefore besought the Pasha to have some
sensible people found who were acquainted with their language. This was
not possible at the time, but it is to be done against our return.

In the meantime our purchases and repairs were completed, and I hastened
our departure as much as possible. The house of Hermanowitch remains at
our disposal on our return; it is conveniently and airily built, and
from my windows I could see the oldest house in the town, the pointed
straw roof of which looked over the walls. These pointed thatched
houses, called _Tukele_, form the peculiar style of the country, and
almost the only erections more to the south. But as Chartûm is a new
city, the few old huts have all disappeared except that one, and the
houses are built of burnt brick.

At noon on the 17th of February we entered our barks. I sailed to the
south with Abeken, up the Blue River, partly to learn its nature, partly
to see the ruins of Soba, and those of Mandera; the rest of our
companions, for whom there was nothing to do in the south, went
northward to Meroë, to draw the monuments of that place.

Next day we landed on the eastern side, where great stacks of red burnt
bricks, prepared for embarkation, informed us that we were not far off
the ruins of Soba. In the whole country unburnt bricks are now made, so
that all ruins of burnt bricks must belong to an earlier period. From
Soba, this building material is transported in great quantities both to
Chartûm and beyond it.

We landed, and had scarcely left the bushes next to the shore behind us,
ere we saw the violated mounds of bricks, which cover a great plain, an
hour’s ride in circumference; some of the larger heaps might be the
remains of the Christian churches, which are described by Selim of
Assuan (by Macrizi) in the tenth century, when Soba was yet the capital
of the empire of Alŏa, as magnificently decorated with gold. The place
was shown us where, some time ago, a stone lion was discovered, now in
the possession of Churshid Pasha, at Cairo. Walls or buildings were
nowhere to be recognized, and on the southernmost and somewhat distant
hill some sculptured yellow blocks of sandstone, and a low wall were all
that we could find; on another mound lay several rough slabs of a black,
slatey stone.

The country round Soba is level, as everywhere about here, to the foot
of the Abyssinian mountains, and the soil, particularly at this season,
dried up and black; the thicker vegetation is confined to the river
shore, farther on, there are only single trees, now more frequent, now
seldom.

I promised the sailors a sheep if we arrived early next morning at
Kamlîn; for the wind was violent, and allowed us to make but little way.
Our ship, too, does not go very fast, the sailors are not adroit, and,
with the present low level of the water, the bark easily sticks in the
sand-banks. We went almost the whole night, and arrived early at eight
o’clock in Kamlîn.

The ancient place of the same name lies half an hour further up the
river, and consists but of a few huts. The houses where we landed belong
to a number of factories instituted four years ago, in conjunction with
the late Ahmed Pasha, by Nureddin Effendi, a Catholic Koptic Egyptian,
who has gone over to Islâm, and which yield a rich profit. A simple,
honest, un-Oriental German, named Bauer, has erected a soap and brandy
factory, which he himself conducts. A sugar and indigo factory is kept
by an Arab. Bauer is the southernmost resident European that we have
found in Mohammed Ali’s territories, and we were glad to find so
excellent a conclusion to the long, little pleasing chain of Europeans,
generally deteriorated in civilization, who preferred the government of
Turks to their native country.[72] He has an old German housekeeper
named Ursula, & funny, good-natured body, for whom it was a no less
festal occasion to see German guests than for him. With joyful hurry she
got out what European crockery she had, and the forks that were yet in
being, and set baked chicken, vegetables, sausages, and excellent
wheaten bread before us; at last, too, a cherry pie of baked European
cherries (for our fruits do not grow in Egypt), in short, a native meal,
such as we had never expected in this _ultima Thule_.

Before Bauer’s house we found the most southern Egyptian sculpture that
we have seen, on a pedestal, a seated statue of Osiris, somewhat
destroyed, done in a late style, in black granite, with the usual
attributes, about two and a half feet high, which was discovered in
Soba, and is not without interest, as the only monument of Egyptian art
from that city.

The European furniture of Bauer’s room made a strange impression upon
one here in the south among the black population. A wooden clock, made
in the Black Forest, ticked regularly on the wall; some half-broken
European stools were ranged round the strong table, behind which a small
book-shelf was put up, with a selection of German classics and
histories, by the corner of a Turkish divan, which was also not wanting.
Over the great table, and opposite the canopy-bed in the other corner,
hung bell-pulls, leading to the kitchen. A curious Nesnas ape sometimes
peeped in through the lattice by the door, and on the other side of the
little court, one could see the busy Ursula in her purple, red-flowered
gown, toddling backward and forward among the little, naked, black
slaves, arranging this, that, and the other, with a somewhat scolding
voice, and looking into the bubbling pots in the adjoining kitchen. We
did not see her the whole morning, not even at the dinner, that she had
prepared so well and tastily; after dinner, she first presented herself,
with many curtsies, to receive our praises. She complained of the
forlorn state of her cooking apparatus, and grumbled sadly at Herr Bauer
for not leaving this horrid, dirty, and hot country, although he
promised year after year to do it. She had accompanied him hither, had
been eleven years in the country, and four at Kamlîn. Bauer intends in a
year to go to Germany, and settle in Steiermark or Thüringen, with his
savings, and turn farmer, like his father.

After table, the son of Nureddin Effendi sent us a complete Turkish
dinner of from twelve to fifteen dishes, which we left, however, to the
attendants after our European meal. We had also inspected the factories
in the morning, and tasted the fine brandy (called _Marienbad_), which
Bauer chiefly prepares from the sugar-cane and dates. Business seemed
to be in the best order, and the unusual cleanliness of the places, the
vessels, and utensils, attest the care with which the establishment,
only worked by slaves, is conducted. The pleasant impression that this
visit made upon us was heightened by the discovery that Bauer possessed
a second piece of the marble inscription already alluded to,[73] which
had been found in the ruins of Soba. He presented me with the fragment,
which was easily put together with the other piece, although even then
the inscription was not perfected. The fragment exhibits on one side
traces of twelve lines, on the other of nine. Here, too, the writing is
easy to be read, but only the name [Illustration: Koptic] is
comprehensible. It is either a very barbarous Greek, or a peculiar
language, spoken in former times at Soba. In fact, we know from Selim
that the inhabitants of Soba possessed their sacred books in the Greek
language, but also translated them into their own.

After paying the son of Nureddin Effendi a visit, we left with the
promise to stay on our return.

From Kamlîn the shores run on at equal elevations. The character of a
fluvial valley is lost. The deposited black earth has ceased; the steep
high shores are composed of original earth and calcareous conglomerate,
which, according to Bauer, is well capable of being burnt to lime.

On the morning of the 21st we came to a considerable bend in the river
to the east; the wind became so unfavourable through it, that our
_khawass_ landed, to impress the people of the vicinity to draw it. I
went along the western shore for several hours to Arbagi, a deserted
village, built of black bricks, but standing on the remains of another
more ancient one, as I saw from the structures of burnt bricks. This
place was once the chief centre of the trade of the Sudan, which has
since turned itself to Messelemîeh. Soon after we found the two northern
_baobàb_ trees, which are here called _hómara_. These giant trees of
creation (_andansonia digitata_) are found from here southward more and
more frequently, and from Sero they belong to the usual trees of the
region. One trunk which I paced round measured more than sixty feet in
circumference, and certainly does not belong to the greatest of the
kind, as they are here not so frequent.[74] At this season of the year
they were leafless, and stretched their bare, death-like boughs far over
the surrounding green trees, which look like low bushes beneath it.
Their fruit, called _gungulês_,[75] I found here and there among the
Arabs; they resemble pear-shaped melons, with a hairy surface. If the
hard, tough shell be broken, a number of seeds are found inside, which
are surrounded with a dry, acid, but well-tasted mass. The leaves are
five-fingered.

On the 22nd of February we arrived on the western shore by a little
village, where the inhabitants, mere women and children, fled through
the sandy plain to the woods, from fear of our appearance, probably as
they expected to be impressed for the purpose of drawing the bark. On
the opposite shore lay another village, whence we saw a stately
procession of finely-dressed men in Arab and Turkish dresses, and some
handsomely caparisoned horses, proceed to the river. It was the Kashef
and the most noble sheiks of Abu Háras, to whom we had been announced by
Ahmed Pasha, as we had determined to proceed hence with camels and
guides into the desert of Mandera. The horses were destined for us, and
we therefore rode to the house of the Kashef, to inquire again about the
antiquities of Mandera and Qala. As the desert route to the coast of the
Red Sea leads hence from those places, we found several persons who had
been near them. From all their tales, however, I could but find that at
these two places there are only fortress-like mounds, or at most roughly
built walls, as a refuge for caravans, without any buildings or
hieroglyphical inscriptions. At Qala there may be some camels and horses
scratched in the rock by the Arabs, or some other people, like those we
had seen in the great desert at the wells of Murhad.

We therefore determine to give up this journey, and instead of it go
somewhat farther up the river, in order to learn the nature of the Nile
stream, its shores and inhabitants, as far as time would permit us.

At a short half-hour distance from Abu Háras we came to the mouth of the
Rahad, which conveys a great quantity of water into the Nile in the
rainy season, but was now almost dry, with only a little stagnant water,
which may disappear altogether next month.

I left the bark as often as possible, to know as much of the shore as I
could. To proceed farther inland, is impossible, from the almost
impassable forests which line both shores. There stand in luxuriant
magnificence the shadowy high-domed tamarind, the tower-like _hómara_
(_baobàb_) the multi-boughed genius (sycamore), and the many species of
slender gumrick sont trees. On their branches run in innumerable
windings, like giant serpents, the creeping plants; to their highest
bough and down to the earth again, where they close every space between
the mighty trunk in union with the low bushes. Besides this there is
scarcely one thornless tree or bush in ten, by which every attempt to
penetrate the thick underwood is dangerous, indeed impossible. Several
of the plants--the _sittera_ tree for instance--have the thorns placed
in pairs, and in such a manner that one thorn is turned forward, the
other back. If any one come too near these boughs, it is certain that
his clothes will carry away some inevitable traces, imperfectly to be
remedied amidst these wilds. In other places, the thorn trees are most
elegant; rising gracefully in the less thronged parts, like slender
young birches. We distinguished two sorts of these standing mingled
together, and only differing that in one the bark, extending from the
trunk to the most distant twiglet, is coloured like a mass of shining
red veins, while that of the other is black; on both of them the long
shining white thorns and green leaves come out in strong contrast.

Of the birds, fluttering round in great numbers, I recognized not one
Egyptian species. I shot many, and had them stuffed by our cook, Sirian.
Among them were fine silver-grey falcons (_suqr shikl_); birds called
_gedâd el wadi_, with horns on the nose, and blue lappets on each side
of the head; black and white unicorn birds (_abu tuko_), with mighty
beaks; black birds, with purple breasts (_abu labba_); great brown and
white eagles (_abu tôk_), of which one measured six feet with extended
wings; smaller brown eagles, called _hedâja_; and black ones, called
_ráchame_. The latter, which are more numerous toward Egypt, are the
same represented in the hieroglyphics. The plover is principally found
on the shore, with black crooked pricks at the joints of the wings, with
the white long-legged _abu baqr_ (Cow-bird), which is accustomed to sit
on the backs of buffaloes and cows.

We often see great bats flying about in broad day; their long golden
wings glance gleamingly through the foliage, and suddenly they hang to
the boughs, head downwards, like great yellow pears, and are easily
shot; they have long ears, and a curious trumpet-formed nose.

Chase was also made on the monkeys, but they are difficult to catch from
their agility. One day we found a mighty tree full of monkeys. Some
climbed quickly on our approach, and fled to the distant bushes; others
hid themselves in the upper boughs; but some to whom both plans seemed
hazardous, sprang with incredibly daring leaps from the highest branches
of the tree, which was nearly a hundred feet in height, on to the little
trees below, the thorny twigs of which bent low beneath their weight,
without any of them falling; they gained their point, and escaped my
gun.

The more south, the more crocodiles. The promontories of the islands are
often covered with these animals. They usually lie in the sun, close to
the edge of the water, opening their mouths and appearing to sleep, but
they will not allow any one to approach them, but dive under the surface
immediately, even if hit by the ball. Thus their capture is very
difficult. Our _khawass_, however, struck a young one, only three feet
in length, so well that it could not reach the waters. It was brought on
board, where, to the horror of our Nesnas monkey, Bachit, it lived
several days.

Not less impracticable than the crocodiles are the hippopotami, which we
have occasionally seen in great numbers, but only with their heads above
water. Once only a young Nile horse stood exposed on a sand islet, and
allowed us to approach unusually near. The _khawass_ shot and hit, but
of course the ball did not penetrate the thick skin; then the fat animal
with its shapeless head, large body, and short, elephant-like legs,
broke into a highly comic gallop, in order to gain the adjacent water,
where it soon disappeared. They usually only land at night, when they
make terrible havoc in the durra-field and other plantations by stamping
and eating. No one knew here of any hippopotamus ever being taken alive.

We did not see any lions, but their roars were heard sounding through
the moonlight nights; there is something solemn in the deep sonorous
voice of this royal animal.

On the 24th of February we came to a second tributary of the Nile, the
Dender, which is larger than the Rahad. I went some way up it, to see
what was impossible to be seen at the embouchure, whether there was yet
a stream, and found that above, where the water ran in little channels,
there was still a current, but very weak; in the rainy season the Dender
swelled to the height of twenty feet, as its bed shows; the shores were
covered with cotton-bushes, pumpkins, and other useful plants.

The heat is not inordinate; in the morning, at eight o’clock, usually
23° R.; from noon, till about five o’clock, 29°; and at eleven at night,
22°.

The evenings we spend on board, then I have the geography explained to
me by our _khawass_, Hagi Ibrahim, or take some Nubians to my camels, to
learn their language. I have already prepared a long vocabulary of the
Nubian language. On a comparison with other lists, in Rüppell and
Cailliaud, I also found in Koldági one of the languages spoken in the
southernmost part of Kordofan, many similar words, which testify a
narrow connection between the two languages. The Arabs call the Nubian
language _lisân rotâna_, which I at first took for its actual name; it
signifies, however, only a foreign language, distinct from the Arabic.
Therefore if the three Nubian dialects are spoken of, they are not only
called Rotâna Kenûs, Mahass, or Donqolaui, but also Rotâna Dinkaui,
Shilluk, even Turki and Franki, Turkish and Frank, _i. e._ European
gibberish. The same error is at the bottom of the now received
designation of the Nubians as Berbers, and their language as the Berber
language; for this is not their national name, or that of the language,
as it is generally believed, but means originally the foreign-speaking
persons, the Barbaros.[76]

On the 25th of February we landed near Saba Doleb; I sought for ruins,
but only found tall, well-built cupolas of burnt brick, in the form of
beehives, and erected in quite a similar manner to the Greek Thesauri,
in horizontal layers. They are the graves of holy Arab sheikhs of a late
era; the villagers did not know what date to assign for their erection.
Under the cupola, in the middle of the building of fifteen to eighteen
feet in diameter, is the long narrow grave of the saint, surrounded with
larger stones and covered with a multitude of little ones, according to
the superstition one thousand in number. I found six such domes, most of
them half dismantled, some quite ruined, but two tolerably well
preserved, and still visited; a seventh, probably the latest, was built
of unburnt bricks.

At Wad Negûdi, a village to the west of the Nile, we found the first
dilêb-palms,[77] with slender naked trunks and little bushy crowns,
like date-palms in the distance, and dûm-palms close to it, by reason of
the leaves. The fruit is round, like that of the dûm-palm, but larger.
These trees are said to be more frequent on the eastern tributaries;
here, on the Nile, they are found but in a very small district. The
leaves are regularly divided into fan-like folds one under the other,
and the stem has strong saw-like notches. With such a stalk the Rais of
our vessel sawed off another leaf, which I had brought to the bark, to
take with me. It is divided into sixty-nine points, and measures five
feet and a quarter from that part of the stem where the fan begins,
although it is but young, and therefore keeps its fans quite shut as
yet. Another one, still larger, which had already unfolded itself, we
put up in the bark as a parasol, in the shade of which we sat. The way
to those palms we had to make through the giant grass thickets, shooting
up stiffly and closely like corn, and covering great plains. The ends of
the stalks were five or six feet above our heads, and even the tall
camels, bred in this place, could scarcely see above them.

On the 26th of February, we arrived at the village Abu el Abás, on the
eastern shore. This is the principal place of the neighbourhood, and the
Kashef living here, has authority over 112 villages. I there purchased,
for a few piasters, of a Turkish _khawass_ a dog-ape. This is the holy
ape of the ancient Egyptians, _kynokephalos_, dedicated to Thoth and the
Moon, and appearing as the second of the four gods of the lower
world.[78] It interests me to have this animal, which I have seen so
innumerably represented on the monuments, about me for a time, and to
observe the faithfully caught representations of its striking and usual
characteristics in old Egyptian art. It is remarkable that this ape, so
peculiar to Egypt in ancient times, is now only found in the south, and
even there not very frequently. How many species of animals and plants,
indeed manners and customs of men, with which the monuments of Egypt
make us acquainted, are only to be found here in the farthest south of
old Ethiopia, so that many representations, _i. e._ those of the graves
of Benihassan, seem rather to picture scenes of this country than of
Egypt. The _kynokephalos_ has here no particular name, but only the
general term _gird_ (great ape). His head, hair, and colour, are not
unlike those of a dog, whence his Greek appellation. Occasionally, too,
he barks and growls just like a dog. He is yet young, and very
good-natured, but immeasurably cleverer than Abeken’s little dog and
Nesnas monkey. He is very funny when he wants something good to eat,
that he may see held in the hand. Then he lays his ears back, and knows
how to express the greatest joy, but sits still, like a good child, and
only smacks his lips like an old wine-taster. On seeing the crocodile,
however, his hair ruffled up on his whole body, he cried out lamentably,
and was scarcely to be held in his terror.

We arrived at the famous old metropolis of the Sudan, Sennâr, on the
27th of February, the king of which, before the conquering of the
country by Ismaël Pasha, ruled as far as Wadi Halfa, and was supreme
over a number of lesser tribute-paying kings. The place does not look
now as if it had been so lately a royal city. Six or seven hundred
pointed straw huts, (_tukele_) surround the ruins of red brick, where
the palace formerly stood. The bricks are now used for the erection of a
building for Soliman Pasha, who is to reside in Sennâr. It was so far
finished, that the Vakil of the absent Pasha could hold his divan in it.
We found him there, sitting in judgment. Many other people, Sheikhs and
Turks were present; among them the Sheikh Sandalôba, the chief of the
Arab merchants, and a relation of Sultana Nasr, with whom we afterwards
became acquainted in her capital village Sorîba. We paid this
distinguished man a visit in his house, at which honour he seemed much
delighted. His chief chamber was a dark though lofty saloon, with a roof
resting on two pillars and four half pillars, on to which we mounted,
in order to get a view of the city.

In the meantime, an anqarêb was prepared for us in the court; mead
(honey and water) was brought, and from the stable an hyæna, here called
Morafil, and two young lions, of which the larger, actually the property
of Soliman Pasha, was led to our bark, together with a couple of sheep,
as a present from the Vakil. I had the animal tied up in the hold, and
received a tear in the hand from his sharp claws, as a welcome. His body
is already more than two feet long, and his voice is a most powerful
tenor. Every morning now there is a tremendous row on board our not over
large vessel, when we are drinking tea before the cabin early; the
monkeys jumping merrily about, and the lion is let out from the hold on
deck, which is given him during the day, and we are bringing the cups
and pans into safety, which he tries to reach with his already strong
and inquisitive claws.

On the 29th of February we arrived at nine o’clock in Abdîn. The wind
was unfavourable on the 1st of March, and we proceeded but little, so
that I had plenty of time for shooting birds. Toward evening I came to a
village, lying very romantically in a creek of the river, which is here
broader. Many huts built of straw poked their pointed roofs into the
branches of thickly-leaved trees. Narrow tortuous paths, forming a real
labyrinth, led among thorns and trunks from one hut to another, in and
before which the black families were lying and the children playing by a
sparing light. I asked for milk, but was referred to an adjoining Arab
village, whither a man conducted me, armed with a lance, the general
weapon of the country. By light brushwood and high grass we came to the
great herds of cattle of the Arabs, who had pitched their mat huts about
the grazing place. The Fellahs of this region are much browner than the
wandering Arabs, although far from being negroes, and they seem to
coincide with the Nubians in race.

On the 2nd of March we anchored by an island, near the eastern shore. At
a little distance from the landing-place, the Rais perceived a broken
crocodile egg at a spot newly dug. He dug away with his hands, and found
forty-four eggs three feet down in the sand. They were still covered
with a slimy substance, as they had only been laid the day before or in
the past night. The crocodiles like to leave the river in a windy night,
make a hole for the eggs, cover them up again, and the wind soon blows
away every trace. In a few months the young ones creep out. The eggs are
like great goose-eggs, but rounded off at both ends, as the latter are
only at the large end. I had some boiled; they are eaten, but have an
unpleasant taste, so I willingly yielded them up to the sailors, who ate
them with a great appetite.

We landed near the deserted village of Dáhela, on the eastern shore,
whence I proceeded alone inland for three-quarters of an hour. The
character of the vegetation remains the same. The earth is dry and
level; the inconsiderable hills and dales that occur are not original,
but seem to have been formed by the rain. My goal was a great tamarind
tree, which rose mightily amidst the low trees and bushes, and was
encircled by a number of fluttering green and red birds, the species of
which is yet unknown to me.

I came on my way, first to a colony, by Kumr betá Dáhela, where the
inhabitants of that village hold their _villeggiatura_; for they stay
here during the dry months, and return to their village on the river
bank, at the beginning of the rainy season. The last village whither I
came is called Româli, a little above that given in the map as Sero,
which lies under the 13° N. latitude. On the hot and tiring way back I
attended a burial. Silently and solemnly, without sound or sob, two
corpses, wrapt in white cloths, were borne along on _anqarêbs_ by
several men, and laid in a grave of some feet deep in the forest near
the road. Perhaps they had perished of the cholera-like complaint, which
has now broken out with great violence in the southern regions.

We should have much liked to proceed to Fasoql, in the last province of
Mohammed Ali, to see the change in the character of the country
beginning at Rosêres, where so many novel forms of tropical vegetation
and animal life present themselves; but our time was expended.

The Rais received the command to take down the masts and sails, by which
the bark at once lost its stately appearance, and drove down the river
with the current like a wreck. Soon the pleasant quiet of the vessel,
that had seemed to fly along of itself, was interrupted by the yelling,
ill-sounding songs of the rowers contending with the wind.

By the 4th, we were again at Sennâr, and on the 8th, at an early hour,
we reached Wed Médineh. This place is almost as important as Sennâr. A
regiment of soldiers lies in barracks here, with the only band in the
Sudan, and two cannons. We were immediately visited by upper military
scribe Seïd Hashim, one of the most important persons of the place, whom
we had already known in Chartûm.

We determined to visit Sultana Nasr (Victoria) at Sorîba, an hour and a
half inland, partly to learn the character of the country further from
the river, and partly to get some idea of the court of an Ethiopian
princess. Seïd Hashim offered us his dromedaries and donkeys for this
trip, and also his own society; so we rode away that afternoon into the
hot, black, but scantily treed plain, and soon accomplished the
uninteresting way on the sturdy animals.

Nasr is the sister of the mightiest and richest king (_melek_) in the
Sudan, Idris wed (_i.e._ _Welled_, son or successor of) Adlân, who is
certainly under Mohammed Ali’s supremacy now, but yet commands several
hundred villages in the province El Fungi; his title is Mak el Qulle,
King of the Qulle mountains. Adlân was one of his ancestors, after whom
the whole family now calls itself; his father was the same Mohammed
(wed) Adlân, who, at the time of Ismael Pasha’s conquering campaign had
taken most of the power of the legitimate but weak king of Sennâr, Bâdi,
but who was then murdered at the instigation of Reg’eb, another
pretender to the throne. When Ismael had arrived, and Reg’eb and his
company had fled to the Abyssinian mountains, King Bâdi united himself
with the children and party of Mohammed Adlân, and submitted to the
conqueror, who made him Sheikh of the country, had the murderers of
Mohammed Adlân impaled, and gave his children, Reg’eb and Idris Adlân,
great power and wealth. Nasr, their sister, also gained much
consideration, which was, however, much increased, as she was allied to
the legitimate royal family by her mother’s side. Therefore is she
called Sultâna, Queen. Her first husband was named Mohammed Sandalôba,
brother of Hassan Sandalôba, whom we had visited at Sennâr. He has now
been dead for a long time, but she has a daughter by him, named Dauer
(Light), who married a great Sheikh, Abd-el Qader, but then parted from
him, and now lives with her mother, in Sorîba. The second son of Nasr is
Mohammed Defalla, the son of one of her father’s viziers. He was then
with Ahmed Pasha Menekle on the war march (_ghazua_, of which the French
have made _razzia_) in Saka. But even when he is at home, she remains
the principal person in the house, by reason of her noble birth.

Since very ancient times, a great estimation of the female sex appears
to be a very general custom. It must not be forgotten how often we find
reigning queens of Ethiopia mentioned. From the campaign of Petronius,
Kandake is well known, a name which, according to Pliny, was bestowed on
all the Ethiopian queens; according to others, always on the mother of
the king. In the sculptures of Meroë, too, we occasionally find very
warlike, and doubtless reigning, queens represented. According to
Makrizi, the genealogies of the Beg’a, whom I consider the direct
descendants of the Meroetic Ethiopians, and for the ancestors of the
Bishari of the present day, were not counted by the males, but by the
females, and the inheritance did not devolve upon the son of the
deceased, but upon the sister or the daughter. In the same way,
according to Abu Selah, the sister’s son took precedence of the son
among the Nubians, and Ibn Batuta reports the same custom to be existing
among the Messofites, a western negro race. Even now, the court and
upper minister of some southern princes are all women. Noble ladies
allow their nails to grow an inch long, as a sign that they are there to
command, and not to work, a custom which is found in the sculptures
among the shapeless queens of Meroë.

When we arrived at Sorîba, we entered the square court-yard by a
particular door, running round the principal building, and thence into
an open, lofty hall, the roof of which rested on four pillars, and four
half pillars. The narrow beams of the roof jut out several feet beyond
the simple architrave, and form the foundation of the flat roofs; the
whole entrance reminded one much of the open façades of the graves of
Benihassan. In the hall there was fine ebony furniture, of Indian
manufacture, broad _anqarêbs_, with frames for the mosquito nets. Fine
cushions were immediately brought, sherbet, coffee, and pipes handed
round. The vessels were made of gold and silver. Black female slaves, in
light white garments, which, fastened at the hips, are drawn up over the
bosom and shoulders,--handed round the refreshments, and looked very
peculiar with their plaited hair. The Queen, however, did not come;
perhaps she was ashamed of showing herself to Christians; only a
half-opened door, which soon closed again, allowed us to perceive
several women behind, to whom we ourselves might be objects of
curiosity. I therefore let the sultana know, through Saïd Hashim, that
we were there to pay our visits, and now hoped that we might have the
pleasure of seeing her. Upon this, the doors of strong wood cased with
metal, opened wide, and Nasr entered with a free, dignified step. She
was wrapped in long fine-woven cloths, with coloured borders, under
which she wore wide gay trowsers of a somewhat darker shade. Behind her
came the court, eight or nine girls in white clothes with red borders,
and elegant sandals. Nasr sat down before us, in a friendly and
unconstrained manner; only now and then she drew her dress over her
mouth and the lower part of the face, a custom of Oriental modesty, very
general with women in Egypt, but much rarer in this country. She replied
to the greetings I offered her through the Dragoman with a pleasant
voice, but stayed only a short time, withdrawing through the same door.

We examined the inner parts of the house, with the exception of her
private rooms, which were in a small building close, and mounted the
roof to have a view of the village. Then we took a walk through the
place, saw the well, in depth more than sixty feet, and lined throughout
with brick, whence Nasr always has her water fetched, though it is warm,
and less nice than that of the Nile. Then we returned, and were about to
depart, when Nasr sent us an invitation to remain the night in Sorîba,
as it was too late to get back to Wed Médineh by day. We accepted the
offer, and a banquet of boiled dishes was immediately brought, only
intended, however, as preparatory to supper. The sultana, however, did
not show herself again the whole evening. We remained in the hall, and
slept on the same cool pillows, which had served as a divan during the
day. But the next morning we were invited by her to visit her in her own
rooms. She was more communicative to-day than yesterday, had European
chairs brought for us, while her servants and slaves squatted on the
ground about us. We told her of her namesake, the Sultana Nasr of
England, and showed her her portrait on an English sovereign, which she
looked at with curiosity. But she manifested little desire to see that
far-off world beyond the northern water with her own eyes.

About eight o’clock we rode back to Wed Médineh. Soon after our return,
Saïd Hashim received a letter from Nasr, in which she asked him
confidentially whether he thought I would receive a little female slave
as a guest-present. I had expressed to her, in return, that this was
against the custom of our country, but that the gift would be accepted
if she would choose a male slave instead, and after some little
hesitation, she really sent a young slave to me, who was brought to me
in the ship.

He had been the playmate of the little grandson of Nasr, the son of her
daughter Dauer, and was presented to me under the name of Rehân, the
Arabic name for the sweet-smelling basil. It was added, that he was from
the district of Makâdi, on the Abyssinian frontier, whence the most
intelligent and faithful slaves generally came. This district is under
Christian dominion, and is inhabited by Christians and Mahommedans, in
separate villages. The former call themselves Nazâra (Nazarenes) or
Amhâra (Amharic Christians), the latter Giberta. Of these Giberta
children are often stolen from their own race and from among their
neighbours, and sold to Arabic slave-dealers; for, in the interior of
Abyssinia, the slave trade is strictly prohibited. This account of the
lad, however, was soon found to be untrue, and was only invented to
preclude the blame of offering me a Christian slave; while, on the
contrary, it would seem much more wrong to deliver me a Mahommedan. The
boy first told our Christian cook, and then me, that he was of Christian
parentage, had received the name Rehân here, and that his real name was
Gabre Mariam, _i. e._ in Abyssinian, “Slave of Maria.” His birth-place
is near Gondar, the metropolis of Amhâra. He seems to belong to a
distinguished family, for the place Bamba, which is denoted by Bruce in
the vicinity of Lake Tzana, according to his story, belonged to his
grandfather, and his father, who is now dead, had many flocks, which he
himself had often driven to the pasturage. When he was somewhat far off
his dwelling with them one day, about three or four years ago, he was
stolen by mounted Bedouins, carried to the village of Waldakarel, and,
afterwards sold to King Idris Adlân, who had given him to his sister
Nasr. He is a handsome, but very dark-coloured boy, about eight or nine
years of age, but much more advanced than a child of that age would be
with us. The girls marry here at the age of eight. He wears his hair in
innumerable little plaits, which must be redone and anointed at least
once a month, by a woman understanding it; his body, too, is rubbed with
fat from time to time. His whole clothing consists of a great white
cloth that he fastens round the hips, and throws over his shoulders. I
now call him by his Christian name, and shall bring him to Europe with
me.

Saïd Hashim tried his utmost to induce us to remain a few more days in
Wed Médineh. On the first evening he invited us to his house with a
number of the most considerable Turks, and had a number of female
dancers to show us the national dances of the country, which consist
chiefly in movements of the upper part of the body and the arms, as they
are found on the Egyptian monuments, yet differing from the present
Egyptian dances, which are made up of very ungraceful and lascivious
movements and motions of the hips and legs.

An old good humoured and very comic man led the dances, singing Arabic
songs having reference to persons in the room or those known to them,
such as Nasr, Idris Adlân, Mak (_i. e._ Melek) Bâdi, and others, with a
piercing but not unpleasant voice, and at the same time struck a
five-stringed lyre with his left hand, beating time with the plectrum in
his right. His instrument only extended to six tones of the octave. The
first string to the right had the highest tone C, struck with the thumb;
the next had the deepest E, then came the third with F, the fourth with
A, the fifth with B. The instrument is called rabâba, the player rebâbi.
This man had been instructed by an old famous rebâbi at Shendi, had
made his instrument just like that of his master, also learning all his
art of versification, and thus had become the black favourite bard of
Wed Médineh. All his songs were composed by himself, sometimes
improvised, and whoever offended himself or his patron became the target
of a pasquinading song.

I sent for him the next day, and had four of his songs written down by
Jussuf, one on Mohammed, son of the Mak Mesâ’d, who lives at Metammeh,
one on King Nimr, who burnt Ismael Pasha, and is now living in Egypt, a
third on Nasr; and, lastly, a song in praise of pretty girls.[79] It is
impossible to give these melodies in notes. A little only, approaching
our kind of music in somewise, have I written down. They are generally
half recited, half sung, with wavering tones from the highest notes to
the deepest tone long sustained. These are the most peculiar, but are
utterly incapable of being expressed. Every verse contains four rhymes,
on each of which it is easy to keep the voice, on the second more than
on the first and third; but the longest on the final line, and to this
always comes one of the same deep tones, giving the song a kind of
dignified progression. A certain recurrence of the melody is first
observable, but is not retainable for an European ear. I bought the
friendly old man’s instrument, which he gave unwillingly, although I
allowed him to fix the price himself, and several times a shade of
sorrow passed over his expressive countenance when he had taken the
money and laid the instrument in its place. Next day I sent for him
again. He was cast down, and told me that his wife had beaten him
thoroughly for parting with the instrument. It is no shame for a man to
be beaten by his wife, but _vice versá_. A beaten wife goes at once to
the Kadi to complain, she generally obtains justice, and the husband is
punished.

At Wed Médineh we witnessed a funeral, which seemed odd enough to us. A
woman had died three days before; the first day after her decease, then
the third, the seventh and later days have particular ceremonies. An
hour before sunset above a hundred women and children had assembled
before the house, and many more kept continually coming and cowering
down beside them. Two daughters of the deceased were there, who had
already strewn their highly-ornamented heads, powdered with fat in the
Arab manner, with ashes, and rubbed the whole upper part of the body
white with them,[80] so that only the eyes and mouth gleam freshly and
as if inlaid from the white mask. The women wore long cloths round their
hips, the young girls and children the _rahât_, a girdle of close
hanging straps of leather, generally bound about the loins, with a
string prettily adorned with shells and pearls, and falling halfway down
the thigh. A great wooden bowl of ashes was placed there, and
continually replenished. Close to the door, on both sides, crouched
female musicians, who partly clapped their hands in time, with yelling,
ear-piercing screams, partly beat the noisy _darabúka_ (a kind of
hand-drum, called here in the Sudan _dalúka_), and partly struck hollow
calabashes, swimming in tubs of water, with sticks. The two daughters,
from eighteen to twenty years of age, and the nearest relations, began
to move slowly towards the door in pairs, by a narrow lane formed in the
midst of the ever-increasing mob. Then suddenly they all began to
scream, to clap their hands, and to bellow forth unearthly cries, upon
which the others turned round and began their horrible dance of violent
jerks. With convulsively strained windings and turnings of the upper
part of the body, they pushed their feet on, quite slowly and
measuredly, threw their bosoms up with a sudden motion, and turned the
head back over the shoulders, which they racked in every direction, and
thus wound themselves forward with almost closed eyes. In this way they
went down a little hill, for fifteen or sixteen paces, when they threw
themselves on the ground, buried themselves in dust and ashes, and then
returned to begin the same dance anew. The younger of the two daughters
had a pretty slender figure, with an incredibly elastic body, and
resembled an antique when standing quietly upright or lying on the
ground with the head down, with her regular and soft, but immovable
features and classical form, quite peaceably even during the dance. This
dancing procession went on over and over again. Each of the mourners
must at least have gone through it once, and the nearer the relationship
the oftener it is repeated. Whoever cannot get up to the ash-tub takes
ashes from the head of a neighbour to strew it on their own head.
First, in this squatting assembly, some women crouch, who understand how
to sob and to shed tears in quantities, which leave long black streaks
on their whitened cheeks. The most prominent and disgusting feature of
this scene is, however, that unrestrained passion has nothing to do with
it, and that everything is done slowly, pathetically, and with evidently
practised motions; children down to the ages of four or five years are
put into the procession, and if they make the difficult and unnatural
movements well, the mothers, cowering behind, call out _taib, taib_, to
them. “Bravo, well done!” The second act of this deafening ceremony, by
the continual clapping, cries, and screams, is that the whole company of
dancers throw themselves upon the ground and roll down the hill; but
even this is done slowly and premeditatedly, while they draw their knees
up to keep hold of their dress, poke their arms in also, and then roll
away on their backs and knees. This ceremony begins an hour before
sunset and continues into the middle of the night.

The whole of it causes, by its unnaturality surpassing everything else,
an indescribable impression, which is rendered the more disagreeable, as
one perceives throughout the empty play, the inherited and spoilt
custom, and can recognize no trace of individual truth and natural
feeling in the persons taking part in it. And yet the comparison with
certain descriptions and representations of similar ceremonies among the
ancients, teaches us to understand many things, of which, in our own
life, we shall never form a proper estimate, until we have seen with
our own eyes such caricatures of uncivilisation, occasionally shown to
us by the Orient.

Next day we visited the hospital, which we found very clean, and in good
order; it contains one hundred patients, but there are only twenty-eight
at the present time. Then we proceeded to the barracks, in the large
court of which the exercises are gone through. The commanding officer
assembled the band, and had several pieces of music played. The first
was the _Parisienne_, which made a strange impression upon me amidst
these scenes, as also the following pieces, which were mostly French,
and known to me; they are tolerably performed. The musicians had
scarcely any but European instruments, and have incorporated in their
Arabic musical vocabulary our word trumpet, applying it, however, to the
drum which they call _trumbêta_, while they have for the trumpet a
native name, _nafir_; the great flute they call _sumára_, the little one
_sufára_, and the great drum _tabli_. There were only 1,200 men of the
regiment (which consists of 4,000) present, almost all negroes, who
poked out their black faces, hands, and feet, from their white linen
clothes, and red caps like dressed-up monkeys, only looking much more
miserable and oppressed than those animals. Yet we did not suspect that
in two days, these people would rebel, and go off to their mountains.

Emin Pasha was hourly expected. On the 13th, however, I received a
letter from him at Messelemîeh, four or five hours hence, in which he
stated that he should first come to Wed Médineh the next day, and hoped
to find us still there. At the same time he informed me that the war in
Taka was at an end, and that all had submitted. Some hundred natives
were killed in the skirmishes; on the morning before the decisive
battle, all the Sheikhs of the Taka tribes came to the Pasha to beg for
mercy, which was granted them on the condition, that no fugitive should
remain in the forest, which had been their chief resort. Next day he had
the forest searched, and as there was nobody found, it was set on fire,
and burnt down altogether. He is going on his way back through the
eastern districts to Katârif, on the Abyssinian frontier, and thence to
the Blue River. Scarcely had we read these news from Taka, ere the
cannons at the barracks thundered forth the news of victory to the
population.

In another letter, which Emin Pasha had received for me, Herr von Wagner
gave me the pleasant news that our new comrade, the painter Georgi, had
arrived from Italy, and had already left for Dongola, where he would
await farther instructions. I shall write him to meet us at Barkal.

As we were certain by the letter to find the Pasha still in Messelemîeh,
we departed thither at noon; we went by land, as the city is an hour and
a half distant from the Nile.

The bark was meanwhile to follow us to the port of Messelemîeh, _i. e._
to the landing place nearest to this principal trading place of the
whole Sudan. Besides Jussuf we took the _khawass_ and Gabre Máriam with
us, who placed himself behind me on the dromedary, where there is always
a little place left for an attendant, like the dickey of a coach; he
rides on the narrow back part of the animal, and holds on with his
hands. The day was very hot and the ground burnt. The few birds which I
saw were different from those inhabiting the banks of the river.

At about half way we came to a village called Tâiba, which is only
inhabited by _Fukara_, (pl. of _Fakir_). These are the literati, the
holy men of the nation, a kind of priests, without exercising sacerdotal
functions; they can read and write, allow no music, no dancing, no
feasting, and therefore stand in great odour of sanctity. The Sheikh of
this village is the supreme Fakir of the district. Everybody believes in
him as a prophet; what he has prophesied, happens. The deceased Ahmed
Pasha had him locked up a month before his death; “God will punish
thee,” he returned in answer to the decree, and a month afterward the
Pasha died. This is a very rich man, and owns several villages. We
looked him up and found him in his house at dinner; about twenty persons
were seated round a colossal wooden bowl, filled with boiled durra broth
and milk. The bowl was pushed before us, but it was impossible for us to
partake of this meal. We conversed with the old Fakir, who replied with
free, friendly, and obliging dignity, and then asked our names, and our
object in travelling. Every person who entered, even our servants,
approached him reverently, and touched his hand with the lips and
forehead. The office of Sheikh is hereditary in his family; his son,
therefore, obtains almost as much honour as himself, and thus it is
explicable how, when the Sheikh is a Fakir, the whole place may become
a holy village. E’Damer, on the island of Meroe, was formerly such a
Fakir place. The inhabitants of Tâiba, probably of Arabic race, call
themselves Arakin. There are in this neighbourhood a number of such
local names, the origin of which is difficult to be assigned.

When we had smoked out our pipes, we left this assembly of holy men, and
rode off. Half an hour from Messelemîeh, we came to a second village
called Hellet e’ Solimân. We dismounted at a house built by the deceased
Mak or Melek Kambal of Halfâi, when he married the daughter of the
Defalla, to whom the village belonged; now it is the property of his
brother’s son Mahmûd Welled Shanîsh, who is also called Melek, but is
only guardian of Kambal’s little son, Melek Beshîr. Thus we may see how
it has fared here with the ancient honourable title of Melek (king).
Mahmûd was not at home, as he had accompanied Ahmed Pasha in his
campaign. However, we were entertained in his house according to the
hospitable custom of the country. Carpets were spread, milk and durra
bread (which does not taste ill) in thin cakes brought; besides another
simple but refreshing drink, _abreq_, fermented sour durra water. Soon
after Asser we arrived in Messelemîeh. Emin received us very kindly, and
informed us Mohammed Ali’s prime minister, Boghos Bey, whom I had
visited in Alexandria, was dead, and Artim Bey, a fine diplomatist of
much culture, had been appointed to his place.

We refused the Pasha’s invitation to supper and night’s lodging, and
soon rode off to the river, where we hoped to find our bark. As it had
not arrived, we passed the night in the open air upon anqarebs. The next
morning, the 15th of March, we pushed off for Kamlîn, and arrived there
toward evening. The following day we passed with our countryman, Herr
Bauer. After we had visited Nureddin Effendi at Wad Eraue, some hours
from Kamlîn, we arrived the next day at Soba, where I immediately sent
for a vessel found in the ruins of the ancient city, and preserved by
the brother of the Sheikh. After waiting a long time it was brought. It
proved to be an incense urn of bronze in open work; the sides of the
rounded vessel, about three-quarters of a foot in height and breadth,
were worked in arabesques; on the upper edge the chains had been
attached to three little hooks, of which one is broken away, so that the
most interesting part of the whole--an inscription in tolerably large
letters running round the top, and worked _àjour_, like arabesques--is
imperfect. This is of the more importance, as the writing is again
Greek, or rather Koptic, as on the stone tablet, but the language
neither, but without doubt the ancient language of Soba, the metropolis
of the mighty kingdom of Aloa. Notwithstanding its shortness, it is of
more importance than the tablet, that it also contains the Koptic
letters [Illustration: Koptic] (sh) and [Illustration: Koptic] (ti),
which are not to be found in the other. I bought the vessel for a few
piasters. This is now the third monument of Soba that we bring with us,
for I must add that we saw at Saïd Hashim’s, in Wed Médineh, a little
Venus, of Greek workmanship, about a foot high, which had also been
found in Soba, and was presented to me by the owner. On the 19th of
March, we at length entered again the house of M. Hermanowitch at
Chartûm, at a later date, however, than our former reckoning had
settled, therefore I had already announced our being later in a letter
to Erbkam from Wed Médineh.

LETTER XIX.

CHARTUM.
_March 21, 1844._

Here we first obtained more particulars concerning the military revolt
at Wed Médineh, which was of the most serious nature, and we should have
incurred great danger had we stopped two days longer in that city. The
whole of the black soldiers have rebelled, owing to the stay of Emin
Pasha. The drill-master and seven white soldiers were immediately
killed, the Pasha besieged in his own house and shot at, his overtures
disdained, the powder magazine seized. All the guns and ammunition fell
into the hands of the negroes, who then chose six leaders, and went off
on the road to Fazoql in six bodies to gain their mountain. The regiment
here, in which there are at present about 1,500 blacks, was immediately
disarmed, and confined to the barracks. The most serious apprehensions
are entertained for the future, as Ahmed Pasha Menekle was so imprudent
as to take almost all the white troops with him to Taka. For the rest, I
might be glad of the flight of the blacks, as they were frightfully ill
used by their Turkish masters. Still the revolt can easily put the
country into disorder, and then re-act on our expedition. The blacks
will, no doubt, endeavour to draw all their countrymen who meet them to
their side, particularly the troops of Soliman Pasha, in Sennâr, and of
Selim Pasha, in Fazoql; the whites are far too few in number to offer
any prolonged resistance. The news have just arrived that five or six
hundred slaves of the deceased Ahmed Pasha at the indigo factory at
Tamaniât, a little to the north of this place, have fled to the Sudan
with their wives and children, and intend to join with the soldiers. The
same is said to have occurred at the factory at Kamlîn, so that we are
in fear for our friend Bauer, who, though not cruel like the Turks, is
strict.

March 26. A report is spreading that the troops at Sennâr, and the
people of Melek Idris Adlân, had overcome the negroes. The Tamaniât
slaves are also said to have been pursued by the Arnauts, and killed or
dragged back, while the rebellion in Kamlîn has been suppressed. Little
confidence can yet be placed in these reports, as the news came to me by
our _khawass_ from the people of the Pasha, and a wish was particularly
expressed to me, that I should spread it further, and write it in my
letters to Cairo.

As we were yesterday evening walking in the large and beautiful garden
of Ibrahim Chêr, in whose airy well situated house, I write this letter,
we saw lofty dark sand clouds rising up like a wall on the horizon. And
in the night a violent east wind has arisen and is still blowing, and
folds all the trees and buildings in a disagreeable atmosphere of sand,
which almost impedes respiration. I fastened the windows and stopped the
door with stones, for a sort of shelter from the first break of the
storm; nevertheless, it is necessary to keep wiping away the covering
of sand which continually settles on the paper.

I have come back so torn and tattered from my Sennâr hunting parties,
that I have been obliged at length to determine on adopting the Turkish
costume, which I shall not be able to change very soon. It has its
advantages for the customs of this country, particularly in sitting on
carpets or low cushions; but the flat _tarboosh_ is immensely
unpractical under these sunny skies, and the innumerable buttons and
hooks are a daily and very troublesome trial of patience.

March 30. We are about to leave Chartûm, as soon as this post of the
Pasha is transmitted. The revolution is now definitely suppressed
everywhere. It would, no doubt, have had a far worse ending, if it had
not broken out some days too early in Wed Médineh. It had already been
long planned and consulted on in secret, and was to have commenced
simultaneously in Sennâr, Wed Médineh, Kamlîn, Chartûm, and Tamaniât, on
the 19th of this month. The precipitation at Wed Médineh, had, however,
brought the whole conspiracy into confusion, and had given Emin Pasha
time to send a courier to Chartûm, by which the imprisonment and
disarming of the negro soldiers here, was possible, ere the news of the
insurrection had come to them. Emin Pasha, however, seems to have been
quite incapable. The victory is to be ascribed to the courage and
presence of mind of a certain Rustan Effendi, who pursued the six
hundred negroes with one hundred and fifty determined soldiers, mostly
white, reached them near Sennâr, and beat them down, after three
attacks and heavy loss. More than a hundred of the fugitives
surrendered, and have been led off in chains to Sennâr; the rest were
killed in the fight or drowned in the river.

But at the same time the news has arrived, that an insurrection has
broken out in Lower Nubia, at Kalabshe, and another village, on account
of the imposts; and that therefore, both villages have been immediately
razed by Hassan Pasha, who is coming to Chartûm in the place of Emin
Pasha, and the inhabitants killed or hunted away.

LETTER XX.

PYRAMIDS OF MERΟË.
_April 22, 1844._

We left Chartûm en the 30th of March, toward evening, and sailed half
the night by moonshine.

On the next day we reached Tamaniât. Almost the whole village had
disappeared, and only a single wide stretching ruin was to be seen. The
slaves had laid everything in ashes on their revolt; only the walls of
the factory are yet standing. As I had left the bark on foot, I was
quite unprepared to come in the neighbourhood of the still smoking
ruins, upon a frightful scene, in an open meadow quite covered with
black mangled corpses. The greater part of the slaves, who had been
recaptured, had here been shot in masses.

With sundown, we stopped near Suriê Abu Ramle, at a cataract, which we
could pass by night.

On the first of April we went off long before dawn, and expected to get
on a good distance. With the day broke, however, a heavy storm of wind,
and as the ship could not be drawn near on account of the rocky shore,
we were obliged to stop after a few hours, and lie still in the annoying
thick sand air. Before us lay the single mountain chain of Qirre,
whence, like sentinels, rose the Ashtân (the Thirsty) to the left, the
Rauiân (the Satisfied) to the right, from the plain, the former being,
however, more distant from the river.

The Rauian only lay about three quarters of an hour away from our bark;
I went out with my gun, crossed the unfertile stony plain, and climbed
the mountain, which is almost surrounded with water during the
inundation, so that we were always told that the mount was on an island.
The rock texture is a mixture of coarse and fine granite, with much
quartz. On the way back we came by the village of Meláh, the huts of
which lie concealed behind great mounds, formed by the excavations of
the inhabitants for salt (_malh_), of which much is found in the
neighbourhood. (Meláh is, therefore, the Arabic translation of Sulza.)
Towards evening went farther into the mountains, and moored in a little
creek. The succeeding day we also got on slowly. On the tops of the
crags to the eastward, we perceived some black slaves, straying about
like goats, who had probably escaped from Tamaniât, and will not long
preserve their poor lives. They disappeared immediately on our _khawass_
making the rude jest of firing into the air in their direction. I and
Abeken climbed the western hills, which rose steeply from the shore to
the height of two or three hundred feet. It is plainly to be seen on the
rocks how high the river rises at high water, and deposits its earth. I
measured thence to the present water-mirror, about eight _mètres_, and
the river will yet sink a couple of feet.

From the mountain top we could see behind the last heights the wide
desert which we should soon have to traverse towards Méraui. Reluctantly
we quitted the picturesque mountains which had interrupted the
generally even aspect of the country in so pleasant a manner.

On the morning of the 4th of April we at last reached our palm group at
Ben Naga, and proceeded at once to the ruins in Wadi el Kirbegân, where
we found part of a pillar and several altars in the south-western
temple, newly excavated by Erbkam, upon which the same royal cartouches
appeared as on those principal temples of Naga, in the wilderness. Of
the three altars the middle one, hewn in very hard sandstone, was
excellently preserved. On the west side the King, on the east side the
Queen, were represented, with their names; on the two other sides two
goddesses. There was also, on the north side, the hieroglyphic of the
north engraven; and on the south side, that of the south. The two other
altars showed the same representations. All three were seen in their
places, and let into a smooth pavement, formed of square slabs of stone,
with plaster poured over them. The means were unfortunately wanting at
present for the transportation of the best of these altars, which
weighed at least fifty hundred weight; I was, therefore, obliged to
leave it for a particular expedition from Meroë.

On Good Friday, the 5th of April, we arrived at Shendi. We went into the
spacious but very depopulated city; saw the ruins of the residence of
King Nimr, in which, after a banquet he had prepared for Ismael Pasha,
he had burnt him. Many houses yet bear the traces of the shots of
Defterdar Bey, whom Mohammed Ali sent to avenge the death of his son. In
the middle of the city stood on an artificial height the private
dwelling of King Nimr, now also in ruins. Somewhat up the river,
distinct from the town, lies the suburb built expressly for the military
garrison. We then returned to the bark, which had moored close by the
fortress-like house of Churshid Pasha, where the Commandant now resides.

The same day we reached Beg’erauîe, shortly before sundown, and
immediately rode to the pyramids, where we found Erbkam and the rest all
well. At Naga and Wadi Sofra they were very industrious, and the rich
costume of the Kings and Gods, and the generally styleless, but
ornamented representations of this Ethiopian temple look very well in
the drawing, and will form a shining part of our picture-book. Here,
too, much had been done, and on the cleaning out of the earth-filled
ante-chambers several new things were discovered. Abeken thought he had
discovered the name of Queen Kentaki (Kandake) on our first visit. It
now appears that the cartouche is not written [Illustration: Hieroglyph]
but [Illustration: Hieroglyph] which would be read Kentahebi;[81] it
seems to me, however, that the famous name is nevertheless meant, and
the questionable sign has been interchanged by the ignorant scribes. The
determinative signs [Illustraton: symbols] prove, in any case, that it
is the name of a queen. Kandake was already known as a private name. The
name Ergamenes is also found, and this, too, now properly written,
sometimes with a misunderstood variant.

On the following holidays, we lighted our Easter fire in the evening.
Our tents lie between two groups of pyramids in a little valley, which
is everywhere overgrown with dry tufts of woody grass. These were set on
fire, flamed up, and threw the whirling flames up into the dark star
night. It was a pretty sight to see fifty or sixty such fires burning at
once, and throwing a spectral light on the surrounding ruined pyramids
of the ancient kings, and on our airy tent-pyramids rising in the
foreground.

On the eighth of April, we were surprised by a stately cavalcade on
horses and camels, which entered our camp. It was Osman Bey, who is now
leading the army of 5,000 men back from Taka. In his company were the
French military physician Peney, and the High Sheikh Ahmed Welled ’Auad.
The troops had encamped near Gabushîe, at an hour’s distance up the
river, and would pass through Begerauîe in the evening. The visit to our
camp had, however, another end; which came to light in the course of
conversation. Osman Bey was desirous of making his pioneers into
treasure finders, and sent some companies hither to tear down the
pyramids. The discovery of Ferlini is in everybody’s head still, and had
brought many a pyramid to ruin. In Chartûm everybody was full of it; and
more than one European, and the Pasha also, thought still to find
treasures there. I endeavoured to convince them all anew that the
discovery of Ferlini was the result of pure chance, that he did not find
the gold rings in the tombs, the only place where such a search could be
made with any reason, but in the rock, where they had been placed by the
caprice of the owner. I tried to convince Osman Bey by the same
arguments, who offered me his men for the purpose of commencing
operations under my superintendence. Of course I refused, but should
perhaps have taken advantage of the opportunity to open the
tomb-chambers, the entrance of which would be _before_ the pyramids in
the natural rock, had I not been afraid that I should arrive at no
particularly shining result, and only disappoint the expectations of the
credulous general, though not our own. I succeeded in diverting him from
the idea; and for the present at least, the yet existing pyramids are
saved. The soldiers have left us without making war against the
pyramids.

I invited the three gentlemen to dinner with us, at which the old Sheikh
got into a mess, as he always wanted to cut the meat with the back of
his knife, until I myself laid aside the European instrument, and began
to eat in good old Turkish style, when all soon followed me willingly,
particularly my brave dark-skinned guest, who well saw my civility.
After dinner, they mounted their stately horses again, and hurried to
the river.

On the 9th of April, I sent Franke and Ibrahim Aga to Ben Naga, with
stone-saws, hammers, and ropes, to bring the great altar hither. I
myself rode with Jussuf to Gabushié, partly to return the visit of Osman
Bey--whose intention had been to give a day of rest in our
neighbourhood--partly to take advantage of the presence of the respected
Sheikh Ahmed, through whom I hoped to obtain barks for the
transportation of our things across the river, and camels for our desert
journey. The army had, however, already proceeded, and had passed the
next places. I therefore rode sharply on with Jussuf, and soon came up
with the 400 Arnauts, forming the rear guard. They could not, however,
inform us how far Osman Bey was in advance. The Arnauts are the most
feared of all the military; as the rudest and most cruel of all, who are
at the same time the best used by their leaders, as they are the only
volunteers and foreign mercenaries. Some months ago, they were sent by
Mahommed Ali, under a peculiarly dreaded officer, to the deceased Ahmed
Pasha, with the command, as it was worded, to bring the Pasha alive or
dead to Cairo. His sudden death, however, naturally put a period to
their errand. That officer is named Omar Aga, but is well-known
throughout the country under the less flattering _sobriquet_ of Tomas
Aga (_commandant cochon_), once bestowed on him by Ibrahim Pasha, and
which he has since considered it an honour to bear! His own servants so
called him, when we came up with his horses and baggage, and asked for
their owner.

After a sharp ride of five or six hours, under a most oppressive sun, we
at length reached the camp near the village of Bêida.

We had gradually gone more than half-way to Shendi, and were rejoiced to
find a prospect of refreshment after the hot exhausting ride, as we
prepared ourselves to remain fasting until our return in the evening,
for there was nothing to be got in the intermediate villages, not even
milk.

Osman Bey and Hakîm Peney were as astonished as delighted at my visit;
there were immediately handed round some goblets of Suri, a drink of
difficult and slow preparation from half-fermented durra, having a
pleasant acid taste, and a particularly refreshing restoring flavour
with sugar. After breakfast I went through the camp with Peney, the
tents of which were pitched in the most various and picturesque manner
on a great place, partly overgrown and wholly surrounded with trees and
bushes. An Egyptian army, half black, half white, torn and tattered,
returning from a thieving incursion against the poor natives, is rather
a different sight to anything that comes under our notice at home.
Although the terrified inhabitants of Taka, mostly innocent of the
partial revolt, had already sent ambassadors to the Pasha, in order to
obviate his vengeance, and did not make the slightest resistance on the
nearer approach of the troops, yet several hundred defenceless men and
women who would not, or could not fly, were murdered by that notorious
crew of ruffians, the Arnauts; an additional number of persons,
supposed to have been concerned in the rebellion, Ahmed Pasha had
beheaded in front of his tent, as they were brought in. After all the
conditions had been fulfilled, after the heaviest mulcts demanded of
them, under every possible name, had been punctually paid, the Pasha had
all the Sheikhs assembled as if for a new trial, and together with 120
more, led away in chains as prisoners. The young powerful men were
condemned to the army, the women were given up to the soldiers as
slaves. The Sheikhs had yet to await their punishment.

This was the glorious history of the Turkish campaign against Taka, as
it was related to me by European witnesses. Twelve of the forty-one
Sheikhs, who seemed as if they would not survive the fatigue of the
forced march, have already been shot. The rest were shown to me. Each
wore before him a club or bludgeon five or six feet in length, which
ended in a fork, into which his neck was fastened. The ends of the fork
were connected by a cross piece fastened by thongs. Some of them, too,
had their hands tied to the handle of the fork. In this condition they
continue day and night. During the march, the soldier under whose care
the prisoner is placed, carries the club, and at night the greater part
of them have their feet bound together. Their raven tresses were all cut
off, and only the Sheikhs still retained their great plaited headdress.
Most of them looked very depressed and pitiful; they had been the most
respected of their tribe, and accustomed to the greatest reverence from
their inferiors. Almost all of them spoke Arabic besides their own
language, and told me the tribes to which they belonged. The most
respected, however, of them all, was a Fakir, of holy repute, whose word
was considered that of a prophet throughout the whole country. He had,
by his words and demands, brought on the whole revolution. He was called
Sheikh Musa el Fakir, and was of the race of Mitkenâb, and his personal
appearance was that of an aged, blind, broken elder, with a few
snow-white hairs; his body is now more like a skeleton, he had to be
raised up by others, and was scarcely able to comprehend and answer the
questions addressed to him. His little shrivelled countenance could not,
under any circumstances, assume a new expression. He stared before him,
fixedly and carelessly, and I wondered how such a scarecrow could have
so much power over his countrymen as to cause the revolution. But it is
to be remarked, that here, as in Egypt, all blind people stand in
peculiar odour of sanctity, and in great repute as prophets.

After breakfast I had one of the Sheikhs, Mohammed Welled Hammed,
brought into Osman’s tent, in order to ask him about his language, of
which I knew nothing. He was a sensible eloquent man, who also employed
the opportunity, which I readily granted him, to tell his history to
Osman Bey and Sheikh Ahmed, and to declare his innocence with respect to
the revolutionary movements. He was of the tribe of Halenka, of the
village Kassala. I had the list of the forty-one Sheikhs and their
tribes given me and copied. Six tribes had taken part in the revolt, the
Mitkenâb, Halenka, Kelûli Mohammedîn, Sobeh, Sikulâb, and Hadenduwa
(plural of Henduwa).

All the tribes of Taka speak the same language, but only some also
understand the Arabic. I presume that it is the same as that of the
Bishari races. It has many words well put together, and is very
euphonious, as the hard gutterals of the Arabic are wanting. On the
other hand, however, it has a peculiar letter, which seems to stand
between _r_, _l_, and _d_, according to its sound, a cerebral _d_,
which, like that of the Sanskrit, is pronounced with the tongue thrown
upwardly back.

The examination of the Sheikh had lasted too long to allow of a return;
night would have surprised me, when it would have been impossible,
especially on camel-back, to avoid the dangerous branches of the prickly
trees. I therefore was content to accept the invitation to remain in the
camp until moonrise; then Osman Bey was going to start in the other
direction with his army. A whole sheep was roasted on the spit, which we
heartily enjoyed.

From Osman Bey, who has lived sixteen years in the south, and is
intimately acquainted with the land to the outermost limits of the
government of Mohammed Ali, I learnt many interesting particulars of the
southern provinces. In Fazoql the custom of hanging up a king who is no
longer liked, is still continued, and was done upon the person of the
father of a king now reigning. His relations and ministers assembled
about him, and informed him that as he did not please the men and women
of the country, nor the oxen, asses, hens, &c. &c. any longer, but
every one hated him, it would be better for him to die. When a king once
would not submit to this treatment, his own wife and mother came to him,
and made him the most urgent representations, not to load himself with
more ignominy, on which he met his fate. Diodorus tells just the same
story of those in Ethiopia who were to die by the condemnation of the
judge, and a condemned person, who intended first to save himself by
flight, yet allowed himself to be strangled by his mother, who
frustrated his escape, without opposition. Osman Bey first put an end to
the custom in the same province, of burying old people alive, who had
grown weak. A pit was dug, and at the bottom of it a horizontal passage;
the body was laid in it, tightly wrapped in cloths, like that of a dead
person; beside him a saucer, with merissa, fermented durra water, a
pipe, and a hoe for the cultivation of land; also one or two ounces of
gold, according to the riches of the person, intended for the payment of
the boatman who rows him over the great river, which flows between
heaven and hell. Then the entrance is filled up. Indeed, according to
Osman, the whole legend of Charon, even with a Cerberus, exists there.

This usage of burying old people alive is also found, as I have
subsequently heard, among the negro races of south Kordofan. There sick
people, and particularly those with an infectious disease, are put to
death in the same manner. The family complains to the invalid, that on
account of him no one will come to them; that after all, he is
miserable, and death only a gain for him; in the other world he would
find his relations, and would be well and happy. Every one gives him
greetings to the dead, and then they bury him as in Fazoql, or standing
upright in a shaft. Besides merissa, bread, hoe and pipe, he there also
receives a sword and a pair of sandals; for the dead lead a similar life
beyond the grave, only with greater pleasures.

The departed are interred amidst loud lamentations, in which their deeds
and good qualities are celebrated. Nothing is known there of a river and
boatman of the under world, but the old Mohammedan legend is there
current, of the invisible angel Asrael, or as he is here called, Osraîn.
He, it is said, is commissioned by God to receive the souls of the dead,
and lead the good to the place of reward, the bad to the place of
punishment. He lives in a tree, el ségerat mohàna (the tree of
fulfilling), which has as many leaves as there are inhabitants in the
world. On each leaf is a name, and when a child is born a new one grows.
If any one become ill, his leaf fades, and should he be destined to die,
Osraîn breaks it off.[82] Formerly he used to come visibly to those whom
he was going to carry away, and thus put them in great terror. Since the
Prophet’s time, however, he has been invisible; for when he came to
fetch Mohammed’s soul, he told him that it was not good that by his
visible appearance he should frighten mankind. They might then easily
die of terror, before praying; for he himself, although a courageous and
spirited man, was somewhat perturbed at his appearance. Therefore the
Prophet begged Allah to make Osraîn invisible, which prayer was granted.

Of other tribes in Fazoql, Osman Bey told me, that with them the king
should hold a court of justice every day under a certain tree. If he be
absent three days by illness or any other reason that makes him unfit to
attend to it, he is hanged: two razors are put in the noose, which cut
his throat on the rope being tightened.

The meaning of another of their customs is obscure. At a certain time of
the year they have a kind of carnival, at which every one does as he
likes. Four ministers then carry the king from his house to an open
place on an anqareb, to one leg of which a dog is tied. The whole
population assemble from every quarter. Then they throw spears and
stones at the dog till it dies, after which, the king is carried back to
his house.

Over these and other stories and particulars regarding those races,
which were also certified by the old High Sheikh Ahmed, we finished the
roasted sheep in the open air, before the tent. Night had long
commenced, and the camp fires near and far, with the people busy around
them, sitting still or walking to and fro among the trees, was immensely
picturesque and peculiar. Gradually they went out, all except the watch
fires; the poor prisoners were bound more tightly, and it grew quieter
in the camp.

Osman Bey is a powerful, merry, and natural man, also a strict and
esteemed officer. He promised me a specimen of the discipline and good
order among his soldiers,--whose outward appearance would not inspire
any very favourable prejudice,--in having the reveillé beaten at an
unprepared time. I slept with a military cloak about me on an anqareb in
the open tent. About three o’clock I awoke, through a slight noise;
Osman, who lay beside me on the ground, rose and gave the order to beat
the reveillé to the nearest drummer of the principal guard. He struck
some broken and quickly silent notes on his drum. These were immediately
repeated at the post of the next regiment, then at the third, fourth,
fifth, and succeeding encampments; and suddenly the whole mass of 5,000
men were under arms. A soft whispering and hissing of the soldiers
waking each other, and the slight crackling sound caused by the muskets,
was all that could be heard. I went through the camp with Dr. Peney, who
came out of the neighbouring tent, and we found there the whole army in
rank and file under arms, the officers going up and down in front. When
we returned and told Osman Bey of the surprising punctuality in carrying
out his commands, he allowed the soldiers to disperse again, and first
gave the signal for departure at four o’clock. This had a very different
effect. Everything was in activity and motion; the camels raised their
screaming voices and pitiful bleatings during the loading, the tents
were taken down, and in less than half an hour the army marched off to
the sound of fife and drum to the south.

I took my way in the contrary direction. The early morning and bright
moonlight was very refreshing; the birds woke up with the grey dawn; a
fresh wind arose, and we trotted lustily along through the alleys of
prickly sont-trees. Soon after sunrise we met a stately procession of
well-dressed men and servants with camels and donkeys. It was King
Mahmûd Welled Shauish, whose father, the warlike Shauish, King of
Shaiqie, is known from the history of the conquering campaigns of Ismael
Pasha, to whom he succumbed at a late period, and at whose house at
Hellet e’ Solimân, near Messelemieh, we had stayed some weeks before. He
had gone with Ahmed Pasha Menekle to Taka, and followed the army to
Halfaï, where he now resides. At half-past nine, we again came to the
pyramids, after my camel, yet young and very difficult to manage, had
galloped round in a circle with me, and finally stumbling over a high
mound of grass, fell down on one knee, and sent me far away over his
head, fortunately without doing me any damage.

After my return I employed myself continually on the pyramids and their
inscriptions, had several chambers excavated, and drew out a careful
description of each pyramid. Altogether I had found nearly thirty
different names of Ethiopian kings and queens. I have not as yet brought
them into any chronological order, but have in the comparison of the
inscriptions learned much on the kind of succession and the form of
government. The King of Meroë[83] (which is written Meru or Merua in
one of the southernmost pyramids) was at the same time High Priest of
Ammon: if his wife outlived him she followed him in the government, and
the male heir of the crown only occupied a second place by her; under
other circumstances, it seems, the son succeeded to the crown, having
already, during his father’s lifetime, borne the royal cartouche and
title, and held the post of second priest of Ammon. Thus we see here the
priest government of which Diodorus and Strabo speak, and the precedence
of the worship of Ammon already mentioned by Herodotus.

The inscriptions on the pyramids show that at the time of their erection
the hieroglyphic system of writing was no longer perfectly understood,
and that the hieroglyphical signs were often put there for ornament,
without any intended meaning. Even the royal names are rendered doubtful
by this, and this prevented my recognizing for a long time the pyramids
of the three royal personages who had built the principal temples in
Naga, Ben Naga and in Wadi Temêd, and belonged, no doubt, to the most
shining period of the Meroitic Empire. I am now sure, that the pyramid,
with antechamber arched in the Roman style, in the wall of which Ferlini
found the treasure concealed, notwithstanding the slight change in the
name, belonged to the same mighty and warlike queen who appears in Naga
with her rich dress and her nails almost an inch long. Ferlini’s
jewellery, by the circumstance that they belonged to a known, and, it
seems to me, the greatest of all Meroitic queens, who built almost all
the preserved temples of the island, acquired a far greater importance
for the history of the Ethiopian art in which they now take a certain
position. The purchase of that remarkable treasure is a considerable
gain for our Museum. At that time an Ethiopian demotic character,
resembling the Egyptian demotic in its letters, although with a very
limited alphabet of twenty-five to thirty signs, was more generally
employed and understood than the hieroglyphics. The writing is read from
right to left as there, but always with a distinct division of the words
by two strong points. I have already found twenty-six such demotic
inscriptions, some on steles and libatory slabs, some in the
antechambers of the pyramids over the figures in the processions (which
are generally proceeding towards the deceased king with palm-branches),
some outside on the smooth surfaces of the pyramids, and always plainly
of the same date as the representations, and not added at a subsequent
period. The decipherment of this writing will perhaps not be difficult
on a narrower examination, and would then give us the first certain
sounds of the Ethiopian language spoken here at that time, and decide
its relation to the Egyptian; while the almost perfect identity of the
Ethiopian and Egyptian hieroglyphics would till now give decidedly no
sanction to any conclusion as to a similar identity between the two
languages. On the contrary, it seems, and may be safely asserted for the
later Meroitic period, that the Egyptian hieroglyphics were taken from
Egypt as the sacred monumental writing, without change, but also without
a full comprehension of their signification. The few continually
recurring signs prove that the Ethiopian-demotic writing is purely
alphabetic, which must very much lighten the labour of decipherment. The
partition of the words is perhaps taken from the Roman writing. The
analogy with the development of writing in Egypt, however, proceeded
still farther; for next to this Ethiopian-demotic there occurs at a
later period, an Ethiopian-Greek, which may be fairly compared with the
Koptic, and indeed has borrowed several letters from it. It is found in
the inscriptions of Soba and in some others on the walls of the temple
ruins of Wadi e’ Sofra. We have now therefore, as in Egypt, two
doubtless successive systems of writing, which contain the actual
Ethiopian popular dialect. It is customary now to call the old
Abyssinian-Geez language the Ethiopic, which has no right to this
denomination in an ethnographical point of view, as a Semetic language
brought from Arabia, but only as a local term. A Geez inscription, which
I have found in the chamber of a pyramid, has evidently been added at a
later period.

I hope that by the study of the native inscriptions, and the yet living
languages, some important results may be obtained. The name Ethiopian
with the ancients comprehended much of very various import. The ancient
population of the whole Nile valley to Chartûm, and perhaps along the
Blue River, as also the tribes in the desert east of the Nile, and the
Abyssinians, then probably were more broadly distinguished from the
negroes than at present, and belonged to the Caucasian race; the
Ethiopians of Meroë (according to Herodotus, the mother state of all the
Ethiopians) were reddish-brown people, like the Egyptians, only darker,
as at the present day. This is also proved by the monuments, on which I
have more than once found the red skin of the kings and queens
preserved.[84] In Egypt the women were always painted yellow,
particularly during the Old Empire, before the Ethiopian mixture, at the
time of the Hyksos; and the Egyptian women of the present day, who have
grown pale in the harems, incline to the same colour.[85] After the
eighteenth dynasty, however, red women appear, and so it is certain the
Ethiopian women were always represented. It seems that the so-called
Barâbra nation has much Ethiopian blood mixed with it, and perhaps this
may be more fully shown at some time by their language.[86] It is no
doubt the ancient Nubian, and has continued under that name in somewhat
distant south-westerly regions; for the languages of the Nubians in and
about Kordofan are, to some extent, evidently related to the Berber
language. That this last, which is now only spoken from Assuan to Dar
Shaiqîeh, south of Dongola, in the Nile valley, ruled for a time in the
province of Berber, and still higher up, I have found enough proof in
the names of the localities.

Next to the ruins of Meroë are situated, along the river, from south to
north, the villages of Marûga, Danqêleh and e’ Sûr, which are
comprehended in the name Begerauîeh, so that one almost always only
hears the last name. Five minutes to the north of e’ Sûr, lies the
village of Qala, and ten minutes farther, el Guês, which are both
included in the name Ghabîne. An hour down the stream are two villages,
called Marûga, already deserted before the conquest of the country, but
a little distant from each other, and still more northward, near the
Omarâb mountains, running to the river from the east, is a third
village, called Gebel (Mount village), only inhabited by Fukara.
Cailliaud was only acquainted with the southernmost of the three
Marûgas, lying by the great temple ruins. The name attracted his
attention by its similarity to Meroë. The similarity is still greater
when one knows that the actual name is Maru, as--_ga_ is only the
general noun termination, which is added or omitted according to the
grammar, and does not belong to the root. In the dialect of Kenus and
Dongola this ending is--_gi_; in the dialect of Mahass and Sukkôt--_ga_.
When I went through the different names of the upper countries with one
of our Berber servants, I learned that _maro_, or _marôgi_, in the one
dialect, _maru_, or _marûga_, in the other, signifies “ruined mound,
ruined temple;” thus are the ruins of ancient Syene, or those of the
island Philæ, called Marôgi. Quite different from it is another Berber
word, Mérua, which is also pronounced Méraui, by which all white rocks,
white stones, are distinguished; for instance, a rock near Assuan, on
the east side of the Nile, by the village of el Gezîret. By this it is
clear that the name Marûga has nothing to do with the name Meroë, as it
is not usual to call a city “Ruin-town,” immediately on its foundation.
On the other hand, the name Merua, Méraui (in English “white rock”),
would be a very good name for a city, if the position of the place were
favourable, as it is at Mount Barkal, although not here.

LETTER XXI.

KELI, OPPOSITE MEROE.
_April 29, 1844._

Franke did not return from his expedition at Ben Naga until the 23rd. He
brought the altar hither in sixteen blocks, on a bark. The stones which
we shall have to take hence, a wearisome journey of six or seven days
through the wilderness, are a load for about twenty camels, so that our
train will be considerably greater than before. Unfortunately, we have
been unable to bring away anything from Naga, in the desert, on account
of the difficulty of transportation, except the already mentioned Roman
inscription, and another large peculiarly carved work. There are on it
some particularly curious representations; among others, a sitting
figure in front, a nimbus round the hair, the left arm raised in a right
angle, and the first and middle fingers of the hand pointing upward, as
the old Byzantine figures of Christ are represented. The right hand
holds a long staff resting on the ground, like that of John the Baptist.
This figure is wholly strange to the Egyptian representation, and is
doubtlessly derived from another source, as also another
often-represented deity, also represented in full front, with a richly
curling beard, which one would be inclined to compare with a Jupiter or
Serapis in posture and appearance. The mixture of religions at that
evidently late era had obtained exceedingly, and I should not be
astonished if later researches were to show that the Ethiopian kings
included Christ and Jupiter among their widely different classes of
gods. The god with the three or four lions’ heads is probably not of
ancient origin, but taken from somewhere else.

On the 24th, we crossed the Nile in our bark, in order to take our way
to Gebel Barkal by the desert. Camels again seemed to be difficult to
procure, but the threat that I should not call the Sheîkh, but the
government to account, by virtue of my firman, if he would not manage to
obtain the necessary animals, worked so fast, that we could already
depart to the desert from Gôs Burri with eighty camels.

Here, at Keli, I had again opportunity to witness a funeral, this time
for a deceased Fellah, at which nearly two hundred people were
assembled, the men parted from the women. The men sat down opposite each
other in pairs, embraced each other, laid their heads on their
shoulders, raised them again, beat themselves, clapped their hands, and
cried as much as they could. The women lamented, sang songs of misery,
strewed themselves with ashes, went about in procession, and threw
themselves on the ground, in a similar way to Wed Médineh, only their
dance resembled rather the violent motions of the derwishes. The rest of
the inhabitants of Keli sat around in groups, under the shadow of the
trees, their heads down, sighing and complaining.

While we were obliged to wait for the camels, I crossed to Begerauîeh
again, to seek some ruins, said to lie more to the north. From El Guês,
I got to the two villages of Marûga, lying not very far from one
another, in three-quarters of an hour. A great number of grave mounds
lie to the east of the first of these, on the low heights, looking like
a group of pyramids in the distance. The elevation runs along in a
crescent-like form, and is covered with these round hillocks of black
desert-stones, which were fifty-six in number, on my counting them from
a large one in the centre.

Five minutes farther into the desert is a second group of similar
hillocks, twenty-one in number; but many others are scattered around on
small single plateaux. Still lower down and nearly by the bushes, I
found to the south of both groups, another, consisting of forty graves,
of which some still clearly showed their original four-cornered shape.
The best grave had fifteen to eighteen feet on each side; it had been,
like several others, dug up in the middle, and had filled itself with
pluvial earth, in which a tree was growing; at another there was still a
great four-cornered circumvallation of twenty-four paces to be seen; the
undermost foundations were built of little black stones; and a tumulus
seems to have been erected inside the enclosure, though not in the
middle. Another well-preserved stronger circumvallation had a little
less extent, but seemed to have been quite filled up by a pyramid. Of an
actual casing there was nothing to be seen anywhere. The hillocks went
farther south into the bushes, and altogether they might be estimated at
two hundred in number. Perhaps they continued to stretch along toward
Meroe, at the edge of the desert, whither I should have ridden, had I
not sent the boat, which I had now to find in a hurry, too far down the
river. It seems from this that here was the actual burial place of
Meroë, and that pyramidal, or when flat sides were wanted, tumular
hillocks of stone were the usual form of the graves of private persons
also at that period.

LETTER XXII.

BARKAL.
_May 9, 1844._

The desert of Gilif, which we traversed on our way hither, in order to
cut off the great eastern bend of the Nile, takes its name from the
principal mountain lying in the midst of it. On the maps it is confused
with the desert of Bahiûda, joining it on the south-east, and through
which lies the road from Chartûm to Ambukôl and Barkal. Our direction
was at first due east to a well, then north-west through the Gilif
mountains to the great Wadi Abû Dôm, which then conducted us in the same
direction to the westerly bend of the Nile.

The general character of the country here is not that of a desert, like
that between Korusko and Abu Hammed, but rather of a sandy steppe. It is
almost everywhere overgrown with gesh (reed bushes), and not unusually
with low trees, mostly sont-trees. The rains, which fall here at certain
seasons of the year, have washed down considerable masses of earth into
the levels, that might well be cultivated, and are occasionally broken
by rain-streams three to four feet deep. The earth is yellow, and formed
of a clayey sand. The species of rock in the soil and all the mountains,
with the exception of the high Gilif chain, is sandstone. The ground is
much covered with hard black blocks of the same, the road uneven and
undulating. Numerous gazelles and great white antelopes, with only one
brown stripe down the spine, find a rich subsistence in these plains,
which are also visited in the rainy season by herds of camels and goats.

We departed from the river on the 29th of April; yet this was only a
trial of strength, as is very customary with greater caravans, like that
of birds of passage, before their great migration. After two hours’
journey up to Gôs Burri, lying off from the river, the guide again
permitted the uneasy swarm to settle; the camel-drivers lacked
provisions, a few more animals were obtained, some changed. Thus we were
not in order and full readiness until the following noon. We stayed the
night at Wadi Abu Hommed, where we had Gebel Omarda on the right.

The third day we left early, passed Gebel Qermâna, and came to the well
Abu Ilêh, which turned our road far to the east, and detained us several
hours beyond noon. Hence we crossed a broad plain in seven hours, and
encamped about ten o’clock at night near Gebel Sergên. On the 2nd of May
we arrived, after four hours, at a woody district to the right of Gebel
Nusf, the “Mountain of the half,” situated half-way between the wells of
Abu Tlêh and Gaqedûl, which, in the desert, always form the hour of the
desert clock.

The Arabs from the district of Gôs Burri, who guide us, are of the
’Auadîeh race; they are far more considerable than the Ababde, have a
hasty indistinct utterance, and seem altogether to have little capacity.
They have commingled much with the Fellahîn of the country, who here
call themselves Qaleâb, Homerâb, and Gaalin. Shaiqîeh Arabs also exist
here, probably since the Egyptian conquest; they have shields and spears
like the Ababde. The rich sheikh Emîn, of Gôs Burri, had given us his
brother, the Fakîr Fadl Allah, as a guide, and his own son, Fadl Allah,
as overseer of the camels; but even the nobles of the people here make a
poor and evanescent impression in comparison with our conductors of
Korusko. The order of the day here was this, that we generally set out
about six o’clock in the morning, and continued going on until ten
o’clock; then the caravan rested during the noonday heat till about
three, when it journeyed again until ten or eleven o’clock at night.

The whole afternoon we rode through the extensive plain, El Gôs,
probably so called from the great sand-downs, so characteristic of this
region, and which assume, in the southern districts, a peculiar form.
They have almost all the form of a crescent, opening toward the
south-west, so that one looks from the road into a number of
amphitheatres, the steep sand-walls of which rise ten feet with the
north wind, which blows inside, and clears away the sand, which would
otherwise rapidly fill the cavity, from the inner field. How quickly
these moveable sand structures change their place, is shown by the
traces of the caravan road, often lost beneath high sand-hills. Toward
eight in the evening we left the Gebel Barqugrês to the left, and
stopped for the night at a short distance from the Gilif mountains.

On the 3rd of May we passed through the Wadi Guâh el ’âlem, much
overgrown with trees, into the mountains, principally porphyritical,
and like all original mountains, containing more vegetation than the
sandy plains, by the longer holding of the precipitated damp and scarce
rains. After three hours we came into Wadi G’aqedûl, luxuriantly overrun
with gesh and prickly trees of every kind--sont, somra, and serha. We
here found grazing herds of camels and goats, particularly in the
neighbourhood of the water, which has also attracted numerous birds,
among them ravens and pigeons. In the wide, deep-lying grotto, which may
be 300 feet in diameter, and is enclosed by high walls of granite, the
water is said to remain three years without requiring replenishment. It
was, however, so foul and bad smelling, that it was even despised by my
thirsty ass. The drinkable water lies farther up the mountain, and is
difficult to be obtained.

We here forsook the northerly direction, which the wells after Gebel
Nusf had obliged us to take, and went westerly by the Gilif mountains,
in Wadi el Mehêt, crossed the dry Chôr el Ammer, whence the way to
Ambukôl branches off, and encamped at night after ten o’clock in the
Wadi el Uêr, called by others the Wadi Abu Harôd. From this place the
Gilif mountains retreated eastward again for some time, and only left
sand-hills in the foreground, by which we travelled on the following
morning. To the W.N.W. we saw another chain, no longer called Gilif; a
single projecting double-pointed mountain was called Miglik. The great
creek of the Gilif chain, filled with sand-rock, is two hours’ journey
broad; then the way leads northward into these mountains, which is
called Gebêl el Mágeqa after the well of Mágeqa.

Before the entrance into these mountains we came to a place covered with
heaps of stones, which might be taken for grave tumuli, but under which
no one lies buried. When the date-merchants, whom we encountered on the
following day with their large round wicker-baskets, come this way, they
are here asked for money by their camel-driver. Whoever will not give
them anything has such a cenotaph raised from its stones, as a memorial
of his hardheartedness. We also found a similar place in the desert of
Korusko. After nine o’clock we got to the well; we did not however stop,
but ascended a wild valley to a considerable height, where we encamped
towards noon.

The whole road was well-wooded, and thus offered a pleasant variety. The
sont or gum trees were scarce here; the somra was the most frequent,
which always spreads out into several strong branches on the ground, and
ends in an even crown of thin twigs and little green leaves, so that it
often resembles a regularly formed cone overturned, frequently attaining
a height of fifteen feet. By it grows the heglik, with branches all
round the trunk, and single groups of leaves and twigs like the
pear-tree. The unprickly serha, on the contrary, has all its branches
surrounded with very small green leaflets like moss, and the tondûb has
no leaves at all, but instead of them little green branchlets, growing
irregularly, almost as thick as foliage, while the sálame-bush consists
of long slender switches, which are beset with green leaflets and long
green thorns.

After four o’clock we set out, and came down very gradually from the
heights. In the Wadi Kalas there are again a number of wells,
twenty-five feet deep, with very good rain-water. Here we encamped for
the night, although we had only arrived there shortly after sunset. The
animals were watered and the skins filled. The whole plateau is rich in
trees and bushes, and is inhabited by men and animals.

Our road on the following day retained the same character, as long as we
journeyed between the beautiful and wildly rising walls of porphyry.
After two hours we arrived at two other springs also called Kalas, with
little but good water. Hence a road leads north-eastward to the well
Meroë in the Wadi Abu Dôm, probably so denominated from a white rock.

Three hours farther, passing by Gebel Abrak, we entered the great Wadi
Abu Dôm, which we pursued in a W.N.W. direction. This remarkable valley
runs from the Nile by Mechêref along an extended mountain chain to the
village of Abu Dôm, which is situated opposite Mount Barkal, in a
slanting direction. If it be considered that the upper north-east mouth
of this valley, crossing the whole peninsula and its mountains, is
almost opposite the confluence of the Atbara, which runs into the Nile
in the same direction above Mechêref, the idea may be entertained that
at one time, though not in historical times, there was here a water
communication which cut off the greater part of the eastern reach of
the Nile, which now exists through the circumstance that the rocky
plateau near Abu Hammed turns the stream southernward for a degree and a
half against its general direction. The name of the valley is taken from
the single _dôm_ palms that are found scattered up and down in it. The
mountain chain running north of the valley is distinctly different from
the mountains which we had formerly passed. With our entrance into this
valley, we lost the hard mountain soil, and the flying sand again
predominated, without, however, overcoming the still not scarce
vegetation.

After we had passed a side valley, Om Shebah, containing well-water, in
the afternoon, on the left, we encamped at about nine o’clock for the
night. Next morning we came to the deep well, Hanik. I stopped about
noon at a second, called Om Sarale, after the tree of the same name.

Here I left the caravan with Jussuf, to reach Barkal by a circuit to
Nuri, lying somewhat higher up the river on this shore. After an hour
and a half, we came to the very considerable ruins of a great Christian
convent in Wadi Gazâl; so named from the gazelles, who scrape here in
the _Chor_ (valley-bed), for water in great numbers. The church was
built of white unhewn sand-stone up to the windows, and, above them, of
unburnt brick; the walls covered with a strong coating of gypsum, and
painted inside. The vaulted apse of the tri-naved basilica, lies as
usual to the eastward, the entrance behind the western transept to the
north and south; all the arches of the doors, windows, and pillar niches
are round. Koptic, more or less ornamented, crosses are frequently
placed over the door, the simplest form of which, ✠ is easily comparable
to the ancient Egyptian symbol of life. The whole is a true type of all
the Koptic churches which I have seen, and I therefore add the little
ground-plan, which Erbkam took of it.

[Illustration]

The building is about eighty feet long, and exactly half as broad. The
north wall is ruined. The church is surrounded by a great court, the
outer walls of which, as also the numerous partly vaulted convent cells,
still well preserved, are built of rude blocks. Before the western
entrance of the church, separated only by a little court, lies the
largest building, forty-six feet in length, probably the house of the
prior, from which a particular side entrance led into the church. On the
south side of the convent are two church-yards; the western one, about
forty paces from the church, contained a number of graves, which were
simply erected of black stones collected together. Nearer to the
buildings was the eastern one, which was remarkable for a considerable
number of grave-stones, partly inscribed in Greek and partly in Koptic,
which will cause me to make a second visit to this remarkable convent
before our departure from Barkal. I counted more than twenty inscribed
stones, of which some had of course suffered extremely, and as many
slabs of baked earth, with inscriptions scratched upon them, almost all,
however, broken to pieces. They contain the most southern Greek
inscriptions which have yet been discovered in the Nile regions, with
the exception of the inscription of Adulis and Axum in Abyssinia; and
though it be not doubtful that the Greek language after the promulgation
of Christianity, the traces of which we can detect in architectural
remains farther than Soba, was used and understood by the natives in all
the flourishing countries up to Abyssinia, at least for religious
purposes; yet these epitaphs, (among which, on a cursory examination, I
could find none in the Ethiopian,) seemed to point to immigrating
Græco-Koptic inhabitants of the old convent.

I left my comrades here, who went direct to Abu Dôm at five o’clock, and
proceeded to Nuri. Soon there gleamed towards us the blue heights of
Mount Barkal, which rises alone with steep sides and a broad platform
from the surrounding plain, and immediately attracts attention by its
peculiar shape and situation. At six o’clock, the Nile valley lay before
us in its whole and somewhat broad extent; a sight long desired, after
the desert, and which excites the attention of travellers as much as the
nearing coasts after a sea-voyage.

Our road turned, however, to the right, and proceeded through the
mountains, which still consist of masses of porphyry. When we reached
Barkal, right opposite us, I observed on our left a number of black,
round, or pyramidal grave-hillocks, with which I had been acquainted
from Meroe. Probably it was the general burying-place of Napata, still
the metropolis of the Ethiopian kings in the time of Herodotus, and
situated on the opposite shore; there must then have also been a
considerable city on the left bank of the Nile, by which the position of
the pyramids of Nuri on the same side is explained. Yet I have not been
able to discover any ruined mounds answering to such a conjecture. Only
behind the village of Duêm, and near Abu Dôm, I saw such, which were
called Sánab, but they were not of any considerable extent. We did not
come into the neighbourhood of this important group of pyramids until
half-past seven, and we quartered ourselves for the night with the
sheikh of the village.

Before sunrise I was already at the pyramids, of which I counted about
twenty-five. They are partially statelier than those of Meroe, but built
of soft sandstone, and therefore much disintegrated; a few only have any
smooth casing left. The largest exhibits the same principle of structure
within which I have discovered in those of Lower Egypt; a smaller inner
pyramid was enlarged in all directions by a stone casing. At one part of
the west side the smoothened surface of the innermost structure was
distinctly visible within the eight foot thick, well-joined, outer
mantle. Little is to be found here of ante-chambers, as at Meroe and the
pyramids of Barkal; I believe I have only found the remains of two; the
rest, if they existed, must have been quite ruined or buried in the
rubbish. Some pyramids stand so close before one another, that by their
position it would be impossible for an ante-chamber to exist, at least
on the east side, where they were to be expected. For the rest, the
pyramids are built quite massively, of free-stone; I could only find
that the most eastern of all was filled up with black, unhewn stones. A
pyramid with a flaw, like that of Dahhshur, is also here; but here the
lower angle was probably originally intended, as there the upper one, as
it is too inconsiderable for a structure in steps. Although I could,
unfortunately, find no inscriptions, with the exception of one single
fragment of granite, yet several things combine to assure me that this
is the elder group, that of Barkal the younger.

I arrived at Abu Dôm after ten o’clock, where I found my companions. The
crossing of the Nile occupied us the whole day, and we first came to
Barkal at sunset.

Georgi had, to my great joy, arrived here some days ago from Dongola.
His assistance is doubly welcome to us, as everything must be drawn here
that is discovered. The Ethiopian residence of King Tahraka, who also
reigned in Egypt, and left architectural remains behind him,--the same
who went forth to Palestine in Hiskias’ time against Sanharib,--is too
important for us not to becoming completely exhausted.

LETTER XXIII.

MOUNT BARKAL.
_May 28, 1844._

I expect every moment the transport-boats requested of Hassan Pasha,
which set out eleven days ago, and are to take up our Ethiopian
treasures, and bring ourselves to Dongola. The results of our researches
at this place are not without importance. On the whole, it is perfectly
settled that Ethiopian art is only a later branch of the Egyptian. It
does not begin under native rulers until Tahraka. The little which yet
remains to us of a former age belongs to the Egyptian conquerors and
their artists. It is wholly confined here, at least, to one temple,
which Ramses the Great erected to Amen-Ra. Certainly the name of
Amenophis III. has been found on several granite rams, as upon the
London lions of Lord Prudhoe;[87] but there are good grounds for
suspecting that these stately colossi did not originally belong to a
temple here. They were transported hither at a later period from Soleb,
as it would seem, probably by the Ethiopian king whose name is found
engraven on the breast of the lions above mentioned, and which has, on
account of the erroneous omission of a sign, been hitherto read Amen
Asru, instead of Mi Amen Asru.

But I have found these rams so remarkable, chiefly on account of their
inscriptions, that I have resolved to take the best of them with us.
The fat sheep may weigh 150 cwt. Yet he had been drawn to the shore on
rollers within three hot days by ninety-two fellahs, where he awaits his
embarkation. Several other monuments are to accompany us hence, the
weight of which we need not fear, now we have the deserts behind us. I
only mention an Ethiopian altar four feet high, with the cartouches of
the king erecting it; a statue of Isis, on the back pillar of which
there is an Ethiopian demotic inscription in eighteen lines, and another
from Méraui; as also the peculiar monument bearing the name of Amenophis
III., which was copied by Cailliaud, and taken for a foot, but in
reality is the underpart of the sacred sparrow-hawk. All these monuments
are of black granite.[88]

The city of Napata, the name of which I have often found
hieroglyphically, and already on Tahraka’s monuments, was doubtless
situated somewhat lower down the river by the present place Méraui,
where considerable mounds testify for such a conjecture. In the
neighbourhood of the mountain the temples and pyramids only were
situated. In the hieroglyphical inscriptions, this remarkable rock-mass
bears the name of the “holy mountain,” [Illustration: hieroglyphs]. The
God more especially venerated here was Ammon-Ra.

On the 18th of May we carried out our long-intended second visit to the
Wadi Gazâl, took impressions of all the Greek and Koptic inscriptions
of the burial-place, and took away with us what appeared yet legible.

We are now more sensible than before of the meaning of the summer-season
in the torrid zone; the thermometer usually rises in the afternoon to
37° and 38° Reaumur; indeed, occasionally, above 40° in the shade. The
glowing sand at my feet I often found to be 53°, and whatever is made of
metal can only be touched with a cloth round it in the open air. All our
drawings and papers are richly bedewed with pearly drops of
perspiration. But the hot wind is the most annoying, which drives
oven-heat in our faces, instead of coolness. The nights are scarcely
more refreshing. The thermometer falls to 33° towards evening, and
towards morning to 28°. Our only refreshment is continual Nile-baths,
which, however, would be considered warm-baths in Europe. We have
several times had storms with violent sand-filled hurricanes, and a few
drops of rain. Yesterday a whirlwind beat down our tent, and at the same
time our arbour of strong trunks and palm-branches fell upon us from its
violence, while we were eating; the meal was scarcely eatable on account
of the strong spice of sand. It would seem that violent gusts of wind
are peculiar to this clime or country, for one often sees four or five
high sand-pillars at the same time at different distances, dashing
heavenward like mighty volcanoes. There are few serpents here; but a
great number of scorpions, and ugly great spiders more feared by the
natives than the scorpions. We therefore sleep on _anqarebs_ brought
from the village, on account of these malicious vermin.

LETTER XXIV.

DONGOLA.
_June 15, 1844._

Before our departure from Barkal, I undertook an excursion up the Nile
into the district of the cataracts, which we had cut off in our desert
journey. I also wished to learn the character of this part of the
country, the only portion of the valley of the Nile which we had not
traversed with the caravan. We went by water to Kasinqar, and remained
there the night. From here arise wild masses of granite, which form
numerous islands in the rivers, and stop the navigation.

With much trouble we arrived the next day, before the camels were ready,
at the island of Ishishi, surrounded by violent and dangerous eddies. We
here found ruins of walls and buildings of brick, sometimes of stone,
both hewn and unhewn, which leads us to the conclusion that they must
have served as fortifications to the island at different times; yet
there were no inscriptions, excepting one in a few unintelligible signs.
We did not mount our camels at Kasinqar until after nine o’clock, and
rode along the right hand shore, between the granite rocks, which leave
but very little room for a scanty vegetation. The eye is relieved almost
wholly in the numerous, and generally smaller islands, by green clumps
of trees and cultivated spots multifariously intersected by the black
crags. There is scarcely room for larger villages among these rocks;
few, indeed, could find sustenance among them. The villages consist of
single and small rows of houses stretching along at a great distance,
yet, bearing the same name, however, to a certain extent. The plain of
Kasinqar ended with a beautiful group of palms. Then we entered the
district of Kû’eh, followed by the long tract of Hamdab, to which
belongs the island of Mérui or Méroe, more than a quarter of an hour in
length. Here, too, the name is explained by the situation. It is very
high, sometimes forty feet above the water-level; the one now among the
larger islands is wholly barren and uninhabited, and excepting the black
crags periodically washed by the waters, it is completely white. This is
occasioned principally by the dazzling sand-drifts which cover it; but
strangely enough, the rocks jutting out of the sand are also white,
either from the broad veins of quartz, in the same manner as another
peculiar white rock which I had seen in the province of Robatât, lying
on the way, and which was called by the camel-drivers Hager Mérui, or
because the weather-beaten granite here has contracted this colour. The
name of the village of Méraui, near Barkal, has, perhaps, the same
origin; here the white precipices, running from Méraui to the river, and
which attracted my attention on our departure, have suggested the name
by their colour.

On the opposite shore the Gebel Kongêli, comes near to the river, also
called Gebel Mérui; from the island as well as the rushing cataract a
little above the island, which has received the name of Shellâl Mérui.

At four o’clock we arrived at the ruin Hellet el Bib, which from a
distance has quite the appearance of a castle of the middle ages. It
rises on low rocks, the ridge of which traverses the court and the
building itself, so that a part of it appears like an upper story. The
whole edifice is built of unburnt, but good and carefully-formed bricks,
cemented with a small quantity of mortar, and covered with a coating of
the same. Within are various large and small rooms, some with half-round
niches in them and arched doorways. The walls of the west side were
fifteen feet high. The outer wall of the court of unhewn stone, but
carefully built up to about five to eight feet, enclosed a tolerably
regular square, the side of which was about sixty-five paces long.

This small castle, but still respectable for the neighbourhood, reminds
one, by its niches and arched doors, of the Christian architecture of
former centuries, but it does not appear to have been destined for any
religious purpose. Perhaps in its prime it belonged to the powerful and
warlike tribes of the Shaiqîeh, which, according to tradition,
immigrated from Arabia into this neighbourhood some centuries ago. At
the time of the Egyptian conquest the country was under the dominion of
three Shaiqîeh princes; probably one of them resided here. The
surrounding country was also more favoured by nature, the shore flatter,
beset with bushes, here and there bordered by a fertile piece of land.

After I had sketched the plan of the building, we set off at nine
o’clock in the evening, by the light of a full moon, on our way back,
which we shortened considerably by taking the road from the island of
Saffi through the desert, where we passed the night, on an open sand
plain, in the great granite field. About five o’clock, between moonshine
and morning dawn, we were again on our way, and by nine o’clock we had
reached our ship at Kasinqar.

Near this place I met with a tree quite new to me, in a little Wadi,
which led to the river. It was called Bân, and does not grow anywhere
but in this Wadi, which is called Chôr el Bân from it, and in another,
near Méraui.[89] A strong white-barked stem, not unlike that of our
walnut-tree, with some more stems round it, and short white branches,
grew short and knotty out of the ground. The branches were now almost
naked, a few only had leaves, if we can call the great bunches of
switches by that name. The fruit is a long, round fluted ball, which
splits into three pieces, when the five to ten black-shelled nuts (of
about the size of a hazel-nut) which it contains, are ripe; the white
sweet, though rather sharp, oily kernel is not unpleasant; but it is
mostly used by the inhabitants to press oil from. The bloom of the tree
is yellow, and grows in bunches.

At noon the Sheikh of Nuri came to our boat, from whom I obtained some
more information as to the cataract country. There are in the province
of Shaiqîeh and the adjoining one of Monassir eight especial cataracts:
the first, Shelâl Gerêndid, near the island Ishishi; Shelâl Terâi, near
Kû’eh; Shelâl Mérui; Shelâl Dabák, near the island Uli; Shelâl el
Edermîeh, e’Kabenât, e Tanarâi, and Om Derás. From hence a rocky
district stretches to El Kâb, whence the stream flows to Shelâl Mogrât,
in the great reach to Berber.

There is nothing now spoken in this whole neighbourhood but Arabic; but
there is still a recollection of the former Nubian population, as there
are yet a number of villages distinguished from the others as Nuba
villages. Above the province Dongola, the following were pointed out to
me as such:--Gebel Maqál and Zûma on the right shore, and near the
island Massaui, which also bears the Nubian name of Abranârti; then on
the left hand Belled e’ Nûba, between Debbe and Abu Dôm, Haluf or Nuri,
and Bellel, opposite Gerf e’ Sheikh and Kasinqar. Then the account
springs over to Chôsh e’ Gurûf, a little below the island of Mogrât, and
towards Salame and Darmali, two villages between Mechêref and Dârmer;
and finally, there is a Belled e’ Nûba, north of Gôs Burri, in the
province Metamme.

At last, on the 4th of June, we quitted Barkal, after we had loaded the
Ram and the other heavy monuments in two transport vessels.

We remained the first night in Abu Dôm on the left shore. I had heard of
a Fakir, belonging to this place, who was said to possess manuscript
notes on the tribe of Shaiqîeh Arabs. He was an intelligent, and for
this country, a learned man, and I found him quite ready, not to give me
the original of the few sheets he possessed, but to set to work
immediately and copy them for me.

The next morning we landed first in Tanqássi, about the distance of an
hour and a half from Abu Dôm, where we were to find ruins. The Fakir
Daha, who belonged to the Korêsh, the tribe of the Prophet, accompanied
us to the now inconsiderable mounds of bricks. We passed by his
hereditary tomb, a little cupola building erected by his grandfather,
which already had not only received him, but also his father and several
other relations. From hence I espied some hills in the distance, which
the Fakir declared to be natural. Nevertheless we rode up to them, and
found, at about half an hour’s distance from the river, more than twenty
tolerably large pyramids, now apparently formed of nothing but black
mud, but originally built of Nile bricks. Single stones lay round about,
and on the east side, at some distance, there were always two little
heaps of stones, which appeared to have belonged to a kind of
ante-chamber, and perhaps were connected with the pyramid by brick
walls. Nowhere, however, were there any hewn stones or inscriptions to
be found. On the opposite shore, near Kurru, we also found a field of
pyramids, but very few ruins of towns were to be discovered. The
largest of the two most considerable pyramids, named Quntûr, was about
thirty-five feet high, and towards the south-east were the remains of an
antechamber. Around these two were grouped twenty-one smaller ones, of
which four, like the largest pyramid, were built entirely of sandstone,
but are now mostly in ruins; others consisted only of black basalt.
Finally, westward of all the ground plan of a large apparently quite
massive and consequently completely ruined pyramid was to be seen, whose
foundation was in the rock. It appears also that this pyramid, which by
its solid architecture was distinguished from all the surrounding ones,
belonged to a royal dynasty of Napata; thus it was easier to account for
the want of city ruins here than on the opposite side.

Three quarters of an hour down the stream on the right, lies the little
village of Zûma. Near it, towards the mountains, rises an old fortress,
with towers of defence, called Kárat Négil, the outer walls of which
were ruined and destroyed about fifty or sixty years ago, when the
present inhabitants of Zûma settled here. The name is derived from that
of an old king of the country, called Négil, in whose time the
surrounding land, which is now barren, was still reached and fertilized
by the Nile.

The first discovery on the road to the fortress was another number of
pyramids, of which eight were yet about twenty feet high; including the
ruined ones, which seemed to have been as usual the most massive, there
were altogether thirty; to the south-west the old quarries are yet to
be seen, which had furnished the materials for the pyramids.

Whilst these three pyramid fields, Tanqassi, Kurru, and Zûma, or Kárat
Négil, lying so near to each other, and whose situation has been
carefully paced off and marked by Erbkam, show that the neighbourhood
had a numerous and flourishing population in the heathen times, we
discovered in the adjoining country and more or less through the whole
province of Dongala, the remains of Christian churches.

On the 7th of June we visited the three pyramids, at a little distance
from each other, all on the right hand shore of the river. Two hours and
a half distant from Zûma, Bachît is situated. Here the rock-wall of the
desert extends to the river, and bears upon it a fortress, without doubt
belonging to Christian times, with eighteen semi-circular projecting
towers of defence. In the interior, under heaps of rubbish, were the
ruins of a church, which appeared to have marked the centre of the
fortress; it was here only sixty-three feet long, and the whole nave
rested on four columns and two wall pillars, nevertheless the plan
completely answered to the universal type.

The church of Magál, which is only half an hour further, must have been
much larger, as we found among the ruins granite monolithic columns
thirteen feet and a half high up to the divided capital of a foot and a
half, and two feet in diameter; it appeared to have had five naves.

From here we arrived in an hour at Gebel Dêqa. Strong, massive walls
here also surrounded a Christian fortress, which stood upon the
projecting sandstone rock, and within it the ruins of several large
buildings, among which was a small church with three naves, similar to
that at Bachît.

This is the boundary of the province of Shaiqîeh towards Dongola, the
last place to the south whose inhabitants speak Arabic. Formerly the
boundary of the Nubian population and speech extended without doubt as
far as the cataracts above Barkâl. This appears to have caused the
numerous fortresses in this neighbourhood, and also the strong
fortification of the island of Ishishi.

The Nubians, to whom already, in the sixth century, Christianity had
penetrated by way of Abyssinia, were then a powerful people, till their
Christian priest-kings, in the fourteenth century, turned to Islamism.
At this time the building of the numerous churches, whose ruins we found
scattered through the whole province northwards from Wadi Gâzâl, must
have taken place.

We went the same day to Ambukôl, at the point of the western reach of
the Nile, and remained there the night. The following day we reached
Tifâr, and again visited the ruins of a fortress, with the remains of a
church.

On the way we met Hassan Pasha’s boat, which was going to Méraui. We
fired salutes, and ran alongside each other. The Pasha inquired
earnestly about the treasures which he supposed would be in the pyramids
of Barkal, and with the greatest complaisance promised us anything we
desired in furtherance of our journey and object. After he had
immediately returned our visit, we parted, firing fresh salutes.

On the 10th of June we reached Old Dongola, the former capital of this
Christian kingdom. The immense ruins of the town show little more at
present than its former great extent. Upon a mountain, near which
commands a delightful prospect all round, stands a mosque. An Arabic
inscription, on marble, shows that this was opened on the 20th Rabî el
anel, in the year 717 (1st June, 1317), after the victory of Safeddin
Abdallah e’ Nâsir over the infidels.

As we had discovered so few monumental remains since our departure from
Barkal, to employ the leisure time which we had in our boat, I busied
myself with making every possible research into and comparison with the
present language and the Nubian. It offers very remarkable points in the
science of language, but does not show the least similarity to the
Egyptian. I consider that the whole race must have come at a late period
out of the south-west into the valley of the Nile. We have now a servant
from Derr, the capital of Lower Nubia, who speaks tolerably good
Italian; he is alert and intelligent, and is of great service to me on
account of his knowledge of the Mahass dialects. I have sometimes
tormented him with questions for five or six hours in a day in the boat,
as it is no small trouble to either of us to understand each other upon
the forms and changes of grammar. He has, at any rate, acquired more
respect for his own language, which everywhere here, when compared with
the Arabic, is reckoned bad and vulgar, and people are ashamed of being
obliged to speak it.

When we arrived yesterday, after three days’ journey from Old Dongola
here, in New Dongola, generally called El Orde (the camp) by the Arabs,
we had the great pleasure of receiving the large packet of letters, of
which we had already been informed by Hassan Pasha on the road. Since
then we look forward with fresh courage to the last difficult part of
our journey to the south, as we must here, alas! leave our boats, and
mount the far more uncomfortable ship of the desert. The cataract
district, now lying before us, is only to be navigated at high water,
and then not without danger. Our richly-laden stone boat we were obliged
to submit to the dangerous trial, as land-carriage for the Ram and the
other monuments was naturally not to be thought of.

We shall not be able to set out from here so immediately, on account of
the general reform which must take place in our preparations for the
journey of the next five or six weeks. From our boat with the packages
we must, however, separate ourselves, as it must seize upon the right
moment of the high water, which will not be for some weeks.

LETTER XXV.

DONGOLA.
_June 23, 1844._

We returned yesterday from a four day’s trip to the next cataract, which
we were able to reach with the boat. Our collection was unexpectedly
rich. We have found a great number of old monuments of the time of the
Pharoahs, the only ones in the whole province of Dongola, and part of
them very ancient. On the island of Argo we discovered the first
Egyptian sculpture of the time of the Hyksos, and near Kermân on the
right hand shore, traces of an extensive city, spread wide over the
plain, with an immense burying-ground adjoining, in which two large
monuments were conspicuous, one of which was called Kermân (like the
village), the other Defûfa. They are not pyramids, but oblong squares,
the first 150 feet by 66, the second 132 feet by 66, and about 40 feet
high, quite massive and strong, and built of good firm unburnt Nile
bricks; each has an out-building, resembling the ante-temple of the
Pyramid. Many fragments of statues lying about, (in the best ancient
style, partly covered with good hieroglyphics,) point out their great
antiquity; so that we may judge this to be the oldest important Egyptian
settlement on Ethiopian ground, which was probably rendered necessary
through the increase of Egyptian power towards Ethiopia, during the
supremacy of the Hyksos in Egypt. Without doubt, the enormous granite
bridges which we found some hours north of Kermân at the entrance of the
cataract district, opposite the island Tombos on the right hand shore,
were belonging to this town. The rock inscriptions contain arms of the
seventeenth dynasty, and an inscription of eighteen lines bears the date
of the second year of Tuthmosis I.

Here, in Dongola, I have also begun to study the Kong’âra language of
Dar Fûr. A negro soldier born in that feared and warlike land, with
woolly hair and thick pouting lips, whom we brought with us during the
last year from Korusko to Wadi Halfa, as orderly officer, instead of the
one appointed by Ibrahim Pasha, sought us out again, and was given up to
me by the Pasha to assist me in my philological studies. He began well,
but in half an hour I was obliged to get the Nubian to interpret for me.
The Kong’âra is quite different from the Nubian, and appears to me in
some points to have a strong analogy with certain South African
languages.

It gave me great pleasure to see here the fortress built by Ehrenberg in
1822, it has certainly suffered from the inundations, but still serves
Hassan Pasha as a dwelling. There will also remain a building in
remembrance of us, as the Pasha begged Erbkam to give him the plan of a
powder-tower, and to seek out a suitable spot for its erection.

LETTER XXVI.

KORUSKO.
_August 17, 1844._

Our departure from Dongola did not take place till the 2nd July. We
journeyed slowly down the west side of this river; and on the same day
we came to large fields of ruins, the inconsiderable remains of once
flourishing cities whose names are lost. The first we found opposite
Argônsene, others near Koï and Mosh. On the following day we passed near
Hannîk, opposite Tombos, in the province of Máhas; here begins the
Cataract district and a new Nubian dialect, which extends to Derr and
Korusko. The Nile takes a northerly course till it comes to a high
mountain named after a former conqueror, Ali Bersi; this we passed to
the left early on the third day. It lies on the sudden turning of the
river, from north-west to due east, where it is usual to avoid the
greater part of the province of Máhas by a northerly desert road. We,
however, followed the windings of the river, and came in the
neighbourhood of old forts on the shore, to a grove of palm-trees, in
whose shade we rested during the heat of mid-day. The nearest of these
forts so romantically situated among the rent rocks, I find differently
named upon every map, as Fakir Effendi (Cailliaud), Fakir el Bint, from
_bint_, the Maiden (Hoskins), Fakir Bender, from _bender_, the
metropolis (Arrowsmith); it is, however, called Fakir Fenti in the
dialect of the country, or Fakir Benti in that of Dongola, and is so
named from the palms at their foot (_Fenti_, _benti_, means palms and
dates).

We arrived on the 4th of July at Sêse, a mountain on which is the
remains of a fortress. Our servant Ahmed (from Derr), informed us that
after the death of every king, his successor was led to the top of this
mountain, and decked with a peculiar royal head-dress. Such forts as
Sêse, of which from the high land we saw many both far and near, tell of
a former numerous and warlike population, which has now almost
disappeared. The ruins, lying about a quarter of an hour to the south of
Mount Sêse, are called Sêsebi. Here stood an old temple, of which,
however, only four columns, with palm capitals, remain standing; these
bear the cartouches of Sethos I., the most southerly that we have found
of this king. In the neighbourhood of these remains, are situated the
ruins of a city, on an artificial platform, the regular circumvallation
of which is still to be recognized.

On the 6th of July we got to Solb (Soleb), the well-preserved and
considerable temple of which was erected by Amenophis III., to his own
genius, the divine Ra-neb-ma (Amenophis.)[90] The rich decorations of
this temple, (the same to which our ram from Barkal, and the lions of
Lord Prudhoe once belonged,) furnished us with employment for nearly
five days. On the 11th of July we first departed again.

Scarcely an hour hence to the northward lies Gebel Dôshe; a sandstone
rock projecting to the river, in which a grotto is hewn on the river
side, containing sculptures of Tuthmosis III.

The same evening we got to Sedeïnga, where Amenophis III. built a temple
to his own wife Tü. In the midst of the picturesque heap of ruins a
single pillar stands up. To the west, a great grave-field extends.

On the 13th of July we stopped at a _shôna_ (so are the Government
station magazines called), opposite Mount Abir or Qabir, a little below
the northern point of the island of Saï. Indirectly over the river, lies
the village of Amara, and in its neighbourhood, the ruins of a temple. I
was not a little astonished to recognize the stout queen of Naga and
Meroë and her husband, on the columns, of which six are still remaining.
This temple was built by them, an important testimony of the far
extending government of that Ethiopian dynasty. On the grave-field to
the south of the temple, I also remarked fragments of inscriptions in
the already mentioned Demotic-Ethiopian alphabet, of which I had also
found some examples in the neighbourhood of Sedeïnga.

After we had paid a visit to the island of Saï, on the next day, where
we had found the few remains of a temple with inscriptions of Tuthmosis
III., and Amenophis II., besides the ruins of a town and a Koptic
church,--we proceeded onward, and arrived on the 15th of July at Dal,
which forms the frontier between the provinces of Sukkot and Batn el
hag’er (Stonebelly). At night we encamped by the cataract of Kalfa.

Hence our way led in the neighbourhood of the hot sulphur springs of
Okmeh, whither I diverged from the caravan with Abeken. The road led us
from the Shôna where we parted, along the craggy shore for above an
hour, to a square tower, which has been erected over the fountain, and
called Hammân Seïdna Solimân, after the architect. The tower, which is
nine feet thick, and has an inward diameter of four feet, is now half
full of sand and earth; the water rushes out of the east side of the
tower to the thickness of your wrist, and on the other side sixteen
little springs rise out of the sand within the space of a square foot;
and here, where the water is at the hottest, it has not quite 44°
Réaumur. The taste is sulphurous, and a white deposit lies all round the
fountain on the ground. Every year the river rises above the spring, and
indeed, above the tower, which stands at half the elevation of the
shore. The water mirror had now risen to the height of a man, and had
not yet reached the fountain. A rude hole is dug in the rubbish for the
invalids that come hither, and is covered with rushes to keep off the
steam. Somewhat further down the river, another streamlet comes out,
which retains 40° of warmth at its mouth in the open air. The legend
goes, that Okáshe, a friend of the prophet, was killed in a campaign to
the south; his body swam up hither and then disappeared in the rocks on
the opposite shore. His grave is still pointed out there at some
distance from the river; a tree marking the spot.

On the 17th of July we encamped near the temple of Semneh. The village
only consists of a few straw huts,[91] shaded by some date-trees; yet
the many fragments in the district show that there was once a much more
considerable place here. The temple is surrounded by mighty ancient
works of defence, the building of which goes as far back as the Old
Empire, under Sesurtesen III., a king of the twelfth dynasty.[92] It
seems that this king first extended the bounds of the Egyptian empire to
this place; indeed, he is found at a later period worshipped as a local
divinity. The temple, built by Tuthmosis III., in the New Empire, is
dedicated to him and the god Tetûn conjointly.

On the right shore too, near the village of Kummeh, old fortifications
are found, and within them a still larger temple, already commenced by
Tuthmosis II.

The most important discovery that we made here (which I only mention
cursorily, as I have at the same time sent a complete account of it to
Ehrenberg), is a number of short rock inscriptions, which give the
highest Nile levels for a series of years, under the government of
Amenemha III. (Mœris), and his immediate successors. These accounts are
partly valuable historically, as they brilliantly confirm my
conjecture, that the Sebekhotep immediately followed the twelfth
dynasty, and are partly of peculiar interest for the geological history
of the Nile, as they prove that the river rose, four thousand years ago,
nearly twenty-four feet higher than at present and, therefore, must have
caused quite different proportions of inundation and soil for the upper
and lower country. The examination of this curious locality, with its
temples and rock inscriptions, employed us for twelve days.

On the 29th of July we went from Semneh to Abke, and visited on the next
day the old fortress north of that place, which is called El Kenissa,
(the church,) and therefore probably contained one at some period. From
the top of this fortress we had the most magnificent prospect of the
principal cataracts of the whole district. Three great falls were
distinguishable in the broad rocky islet valley from the smaller ones;
several hundred islands passed under review to yonder black mountains.
Toward the north, however, the wide plain stretched, which extend from
Wadi Halfa to Philae. The gradual change in the geological construction
of the rocks was plainly visible, as we descended from the last ridge of
the shore crags into the great plain, from which but a few single
sandstone cones arise from the bed of a dried up ocean. These are no
doubt the sources of the endless sand, which, driven by the north wind
into the mountains, rendered our journey to Semneh so difficult.

On the 1st of August we quitted Wadi Halfa in three barks,and passed
through districts already well-known. Next morning we came to Abu
Simbel, where we stopped nine days, in order to secure the rich
representations of the two rock temples as complete as possible. I
sought for a long time for the remarkable Greek inscription which Leake
found on one of the four mighty Ramses-colossi, until I happily
discovered it in the rubbish on the left leg of the second colossus from
the south. I was obliged to have a great excavation made, in order to
obtain a perfect impression on paper. There seem to me to be no grounds
whatever not to take the inscription for that for which it proclaims
itself, viz. for a memorial of the Greek mercenaries, who came hither
with Psammetichus I. in pursuit of the rebellious warriors. Among the
rest of the inscriptions of the colossus I find some Phœnician ones.

After we had visited rock monuments on the opposite shore, near Abahûda
and Shataui, we left Abu Simbel, on the 11th of August, and next stopped
on the right shore near Ibrîm, the ancient Primis, the name of which I
have found written hieroglyphically PRM. On the left bank, opposite
Ibrîm, lies Anîbe, in the neighbourhood of which we found and drew a
solitary, but well preserved private grave of the time of the twentieth
dynasty. Then we went on to Derr, where we received the richest of
post-bags, which filled us all with joy.

With these treasures we hastened, by way of Amada, hither to Korusko;
the charming palm groups of which had become dear to us during our long
though unwilling stay last year. To-day (Sunday) we have, therefore,
determined to celebrate the fortunate completion of our journey in the
gayest reminiscences. Our barks lie quietly by the shore.

LETTER XXVII.

PHILAE.
_September 1, 1844._

I am only now first able to end my report from Korusko, which we quitted
on the evening of the 18th of August, to sail for Sebûa.

From thence to Philae the valley is called Wadi Kenûs, “the valley of
Beni Kensi,” a tribe often mentioned in the Arabic accounts. The upper
valley from Korusko to Wadi Halfa is generally called Wadi Nuba on all
the maps, a name certainly used by Burckhardt, but which must rest on an
error. Neither our Nubian servant Ahmed, born at Derr, nor any of the
inhabitants know this name, and even the septuagenarian Hassen Kashef,
who governed the country before the Egyptian conquest, could not return
any replies to my careful questions. According to their unanimous
assertion, the lower district has always been called Wadi Kenûs. Then
follows near Korusko the Wadi el Arab, so called by the immigrated Arabs
of the desert, then Wadi Ibrim, and lastly Wadi Halfa. The government
designation of the whole province between the two cataracts is, however,
since the conquest Gism Halfa, the province Halfa.

In Korusko, I found a Bishâri, named ’Ali, whose intelligent and
pleasing manners determined me immediately to engage him as a teacher
for this important language. He accepted very willingly my invitation
to accompany us, and now every leisure moment was occupied in preparing
a grammar and vocabulary. He was born in the interior of the district
Beled Ellâqi, which is eight days distant from the Nile, and twenty from
the Red Sea, and gives its name to the remarkable Wadi Ellâqi, which
extends without any interruption through the broad plains from the Nile
to the sea. He calls the Bishâri country Edbai and their language “Midâb
to Beg’auîe,” the Beg’a language: this shows its identity with the
language of the powerful Beg’a people, celebrated during the middle
ages.

From Korusko we sailed to Sebûa, where we remained four days; then by
Dakke (Pselchis) and Kubân (Contra-Pselchis) to G’erf Hussên, with its
rock temple, dedicated by Ramses to Ptah. By former travellers this
place has often been called Girshe, a corruption of the name of a
village lying on the eastern shore, called by the Arabians Qirsh, and by
the Nubians Kish or Kishiga, and which lies in the neighbourhood of some
important ruins, called Sabagûra. The 25th August we passed in the
temple of Dendûr, built under the Roman empire, and the next day in
Kalabsheh, the ancient Talmis, this temple also contains only the arms
of Cæsar (Augustus). Talmis was for a long time the capital of the
Blemyer, whose incursions into Egypt caused much trouble to the Romans.
Upon one of the pillars of the outer court the interesting inscription
of Silco is graven, who calls himself a βασιλίσκος Νουβάδων καὶ ὅλων τῶν
Αἰθιόπων. He boasts in it of his victories over the Blemyers, whom I
consider a branch of the Meroitic-Ethiopian race, the present Bishâri.
The Demotic-Ethiopian inscriptions, among which is one remarkable for
its length, and which perhaps is a counterpart of the Greek ones of the
Nubian kings, can only be referred to the Blemyers. I discovered at the
back of the temple another inscription of very late date in Greek, but
so corrupted as to be perfectly unintelligible. I send it to be
deciphered by Böckh.

On the 30th of August we reached Debôt, and the following day Philae,
where we immediately took possession of the charming temple terrace,
which, since that time, has been our head-quarters, and will be so for
some time yet. The great buildings of the temple, although its earliest
erection only dates as far back as Nectanebus, offer an unusually rich
harvest of hieroglyphical, demotic, and Greek inscriptions, and to my
astonishment I have discovered a chamber in one of the pylones, which
contains only Ethiopian sculptures and inscriptions.

LETTER XXVIII.

THEBES, QURNA.
_November 24, 1844._

We arrived here, at the last great station of our journey, on the 4th of
November, and feel much nearer to our native land. During our stay here,
which is certain to run over several months, we have established
ourselves in a charming rock fort, on a hill of Abd el Qurna; it is an
ancient tomb, enlarged by erections of brick, whence the whole Thebaîc
plain can be overlooked at one view. I should be afraid of being almost
annihilated by the immense treasure of monuments, if the mighty
character of the remains of this most royal city of all antiquity did
not excite and retain the imagination at the highest point. While the
examination of the previous numerous temples of the Ptolemaic and Roman
periods had almost become, as it were, wearisome, I feel as fresh here,
where the Homeric form of the mighty Pharaohs of the eighteenth and
nineteenth dynasties come forth to us in all their majesty and pride, as
at the beginning of my journey.

I have at once had excavations made in the celebrated temple of Ramses
Miamun, situated at our feet, which have led to unexpected results.
Erbkam had conducted the works with the greatest care, and his now
finished ground-plan of this most beautiful building of the Pharaonic
times, the tomb of Osymandyas, according to Diodorus, is the first
which can be called complete, as it does not depend on arbitrary
restorations, carried too far by the French, and not far enough by
Wilkinson.

In the filled-up rock tomb of the same Ramses, at Babel Meluk,
erroneously considered incomplete by Rosellini, I have also had
excavations made. Several chambers have already been found, and if
fortune favours us, we shall also find the sarcophagus, though not
unopened, (_that_ the Persians have taken care of,) yet possibly less
destroyed than others, as the deposit of soil on the tomb is very
ancient.

During our journey thither from Korusko, I have been engaged upon the
little known languages of the southern countries, beside my antiquarian
pursuits. Among these three are the most extended: the Nuba language of
the Nuba or Berber nation; the Kung’âra language of the negroes of Dar
Fur; and the Beg’a language of the Bisharîba, inhabiting the eastern
part of the Sudan. Of all three I have so perfectly formed the grammar
and vocabulary, that their publication, at some period, will offer a
complete view of these languages. The most important of them is the last
named, because it proves itself a rich language in a grammatical point
of view, and a very remarkable branch of the Caucasian family by its
position in development. It is spoken by that nation which I believe I
can prove to be the once flourishing one of Meroë, and which therefore
has the most definite right to be called the Ethiopian people in the
most strict sense of the term.

It has also been seen that there was nothing to be found of a primitive
Ethiopian civilisation, or even of an ancient Ethiopian national
culture, of which the new school of learning pretends to know so much;
in fact, that we have every reason to deny its existence. Those accounts
of the ancients which do not rest on totally erroneous information, only
refer to the civilisation and arts of Egypt, which had fled to Ethiopia
during the time of the supremacy of the Hyksos. The return of Egyptian
might from Ethiopia, on the founding of the New Empire of the Egyptians,
and its advance even into the depths of Asia, was transferred to the
Asiatic traditions, and afterwards to the Greek, from the country of
Ethiopia to the nation of Ethiopians; for no rumour of an older Egyptian
empire, and its former peaceful prince had penetrated to the northern
nations. I have transmitted a report to the Academy on the result of our
Ethiopian journey, and I have given in it a sketch of Ethiopian history
since the first conquest of the country by Sesurtesen III., in the
twelfth dynasty of Manetho, till the prince of the Meroitic kingdom in
the first centuries of our era, and then through the middle ages to the
Bisharîba of the present day, whose sheikhs we saw, in chains, pass by
the ruins of their former metropolis, and the pyramids of their ancient
kings.

LETTER XXIX.

THEBES, QURNA.
_January 8, 1845._

We have lately received the cheering intelligence that our colossal Ram
and the other Ethiopian monuments have arrived safely at Alexandria.
From here, too, we shall bring some important monuments; amongst them a
beautiful sarcophagus, of fine white limestone, and partially covered
with painted inscriptions, belonging to the Old Empire, the earliest era
of the growing power of Thebes.[93]

I have succeeded in making another conquest to-day, which causes me
double pleasure, as I had inexpressible difficulty in attaining it, and
as it has restored a monument to the day in the greatest perfection, and
which will scarcely find its equal in any of the museums. In a deep
shaft which has lately been excavated, a tomb-chamber has been found,
full of interesting representations of kings, which we have drawn; hence
a narrow passage leads deeper down into a second chamber, which is
completely painted like the first. The spaces are hewn in a most
crumbling rock, which falls in great pieces from the ceiling on the
slightest touch; the rock-caves were therefore formed into cylindrical
arches with Nile bricks, covered with stucco, and painted. On the sides
of the inner door King Amenophis I. is represented on the right, and on
the left his mother, Aahmes-nufre-ari, highly reverenced even at a much
later period. Both of them are painted on the stucco to the height of
four feet, and preserved in the freshest colours. These figures, which
took up the whole wall, I wished to remove. But for this purpose I was
obliged to break through the brick walls around, and then take away the
bricks behind the stucco singly with the greatest care. Thus I have
to-day succeeded in the laborious work of laying down the whole of the
stucco, only of the thickness of a finger, on two slabs made of planks,
and cushioned with skins, linen, and paper, and bringing it out of the
half-filled narrow tomb-grotto.[94]

Our plaster-casts, to my great joy, are again cared for. Five
hundred-weight of gypsum, which M. Clot Bey has granted us from a
quantity ordered from France, has lately arrived, and I have found and
taken into our service an Arab, who at least knows enough of the manner
of using gypsum and taking casts.

LETTER XXX.

THEBES.
_February 25, 1845._

We have now dwelt for more than a quarter of a year, in our Thebaïc
Acropolis, upon the hill Qurna, each of us busy in his own way, from
morning till evening, in examining, describing, and drawing the most
important monuments, taking off inscriptions on paper, and making out
plans of the architecture, without being able to finish even the Lybian
side, where there yet remains twelve temples, twenty-five king’s tombs,
fifteen tombs of royal wives or daughters, and a number, not to be
counted, of graves belonging to persons of consequence, to be examined.
The east side, with its six-and-twenty partly-standing churches, will
also require not less time. And yet it is Thebes exactly that has been
more explored than any other place by travellers and expeditions,
(_vide_ the Franco-Tuscan expedition), and we have only compared and
supplied deficiencies in their labours, not done them afresh. We are
also very far from imagining that we have exhausted the immense
monumental riches to be found here. They who come after us with fresh
information, and with the results of science further extended, will find
new treasures in the same monuments, and obtain more instruction from
them. The great end which I have always had before my eyes, and for
which I have principally made my selections, has been history. When I
thought I had collected the most essential information on this point, I
remained satisfied.

The river here divides the valley into two unequal parts. While on the
west side it flows near the steep projecting mountains of Lybia, it
bounds on the east side a wide fertile plain, which extends as far as
Medamôt, which lies some hours distant on the edge of the Arabian
desert. On this side lies the actual city of Thebes, which appears to
have formed a connection between the two temples, Karnak and Luqsor,
which lie about half an hour’s distance apart. Karnak lies north, and
further from the Nile; Luqsor is directly washed by the waters of the
river, and has very probably been in former times the harbour-quarter of
the town. On the west side of the stream stood the Necropolis of Thebes,
and for the preservation of the dead, all the temples, far and near, are
employed,--yes, the whole population of these parts, which were later
included under the name Memnonia by the Greeks, appear to have employed
themselves principally with the care of the dead and their graves. The
former extent of Memnonia is ascertained by the two cities, Qurna and
Medînet Habu, which lie at the north and south points.

A survey of the Thebaïc monuments begins, most naturally, with the ruins
of Karnak. Here lay the great imperial temple of a hundred doors, which
was dedicated to Ammon-Ra, the king of the gods, and the particular god
of the place, which after him was called the city of Ammon (No-Amon,
Diospolis). Ap, and with the feminine article Tap, out of which the
Greeks made Thebes, was an isolated temple of Ammon, and is sometimes
hieroglyphically used in the singular, or still oftener in the plural
(Napu) as the name of the city; from whence the Greeks, naturally,
without changing the article, made use of Θῆβαι in the plural. The whole
history of the Egyptian kingdom is connected with this temple, since the
elevation of the city of Ammon into a metropolis of the kingdom. Every
dynasty contended for the glory of having assisted in extending,
beautifying, and restoring this national sanctuary.

It was founded under the first Thebaïc Imperial dynasty, the twelfth
with Manetho, by its first king, the mighty Sesurtesen I., in the fourth
century of the third millenium, B.C., and even now shows some fragments
of the time and name of that king. During the succeeding dynasties, who
sighed for several centuries under the oppression of their victorious
hereditary enemies, the sanctuary doubtless stood unheeded, and nothing
remains of what belongs to that period. But after Amosis, the first king
of the seventeenth dynasty, had succeeded in his revolt against the
Hyksos, about B.C. 1700, his two successors, Amenophis I. and Tuthmosis
I., built round the remains of the most ancient sanctuary a stately
temple with many chambers round the cella, and with a broad court and
the propylæa belonging to it, before which Tuthmosis I. erected two
obelisks. Two other pylones, with adjoining walls, were built by the
same king, in a right angle with the temple, towards Luqsor. Tuthmosis
III. and his sister enlarged this temple behind by a hall resting on
fifty-six pillars, beside many other chambers which surrounded it on
three sides, and were inclosed by a general outer wall. The next king
partly did more toward the completion of the temple in front, and partly
erected new independent temples in the vicinity, also built two other
great pylones in a south-westerly direction before those of Tuthmosis
I., so that from this side four high pylones formed the stately entrance
to the principal temple.

A still more brilliant enlargement of the temple was, however, carried
out in the fifteenth and fourteenth centuries, B.C., by the great
Pharaohs of the nineteenth dynasties, by Sethos I., the father of Ramses
Miamun, who added in the original axis of the temple the mightiest hall
of pillars which was ever seen in Egypt, or, indeed, in any country. The
stone roof is supported by 134 columns, covering a space of 164 feet in
length and 320 in breadth. Each of the twelve middle columns is 36 feet
in circumference, and is, up to the architrave, 66 feet high; the other
columns, 40 feet high, are 27 feet in circumference. It is impossible to
describe the overpowering impression felt on first entering this forest
of columns, and on passing from one avenue to another, and between the
sometimes half, and sometimes whole-projecting grand gods and kingly
statues which are sculptured on the columns. All the surfaces are
ornamented with gay sculptures, partly in relief and partly in intaglio,
which, however, were only completed under the successors of the founder,
and mostly by his son Ramses Miamun. Before this hypostole, a large
hypathrale court, of about 270 to 320 feet, was afterwards erected,
with a majestic pylon, and ornamented only on the sides by pillars.

Here the great plan of the temple terminated a length of 1,170 feet,
without reckoning the row of sphinxes before its exterior pylon, and
without the private sanctuary which was erected by Ramses Miamun
directly against the furthest wall of the temple, and in the same area,
but in such a manner that the entrance to it was on the opposite side.
This enlargement reckoned with it, would make the whole length nearly
2,000 feet, to the southernmost gate of the outer wall, which makes the
whole place about the same breadth. The later dynasties, who found this
principal temple completed on all sides, and yet could not renounce the
idea of doing honour to this centre of Theban worship, began by erecting
small temples on the great plain surrounded by the outer wall, and
afterwards gradually enlarging these again.

The head of the twentieth dynasty, Ramses III., whose warlike deeds in
Asia in the fifteenth century before Christ, were scarcely inferior to
those of his renowned ancestors, Sethos I. and Ramses II., built a
separate temple with a court of columns, and hypostole above two hundred
feet long, which now destroys the symmetry of the outer wall of the
great court, and founded at a little distance from it, a still larger
sanctuary for the third person of the Theban Triad, Chensu the son of
Ammon. This last was completed by the succeeding kings of his dynasty,
and the priest-kings of the twenty-first dynasty, who added a stately
court of columns and a pylon. Out of the twenty-second dynasty,
Sheshenk I. is known, the warrior king Shishak of the Bible, who
conquered Jerusalem in 970 B.C. His Asiatic campaigns are recorded in
the southern outer wall of the great temple, where, under the symbolical
figures of prisoners, he lays one hundred and forty conquered cities and
countries before Ammon. Among their names there is one, which, not
without foundation, is thought to be the denomination of the kingdom of
Judah, as also the names of several well known cities of Palestine.

The two above-mentioned priest-dynasties, which followed immediately
after the dynasties of the Ramses, were no longer of Theban origin, but
came from the cities of Lower Egypt. The power of the kingdom sank upon
this change, and after the short twenty-three dynasties, of which there
are, nevertheless, some remains yet to be found in Karnak, there appears
to have been a revolution. The present lists of the historians mention
only one king of the twenty-fourth dynasty who has not been discovered
upon the Egyptian monuments. Under him occurred the irruption of the
Ethiopians, who form the twenty-fifth dynasty. Shabak and Tahraka (So
and Tirhaka of the Bible) reigned in Egypt in the beginning of the
seventh century, B.C. These kings came from Ethiopia, but governed quite
in the Egyptian manner. They, too, did not forget to pay their reverence
to the Egyptian divine kings. Their names are found on several little
temples at Karnak, and on a stately colonnade in the great outer court,
which appears to have been first erected by Tahraka. The latter retired,
according to history, voluntarily into Ethiopia, and left the Egyptian
empire to its native rulers.

The supplanted Saitic dynasty now returned to the throne, and again
unfolded in the seventh and eighth centuries the splendour, which in
this country, so rich in resources and in outward might, was able to be
displayed under an energetic and wise sceptre. That dynasty first opened
Egypt for peaceful communication with foreign countries; Greeks settled
among them, commerce flourished and accumulated new and immense riches,
formerly alone obtained by rapine and tribute. But the excitement was
only artificial, for the fresh energy of the nations had long been
broken; art, too, matured luxury rather than practical worth. The last
national glory soon passed away. The country could no longer withstand
the coming storm of the Persians. In the year 525 B.C., it was conquered
by Cambyses, and trodden down by barbarian fanaticism. Many monuments
were destroyed, and no sanctuary, no wall was raised within this period;
at least nothing has been preserved to our times of that era, not even
of the long and mild government of Darius, of whom a temple, or only
sculptures with his name alone, are found in the Oasis of Kargeh. Under
Darius II., just one hundred years after the beginning of the Persian
supremacy, Egypt again became independent, and we immediately find again
the names of the native kings in the temples of Karnak, but after three
dynasties had followed one another in rapid succession within sixty-four
years, it again fell under the dominion of the Persians, who soon
afterward lost it to Alexander of Macedonia, in the year 332 B.C. After
that the land was obliged to accustom itself to foreign rule; it had
lost its national independence, and passed from one hand to another, the
last always worse than the preceding, down to the present day.

Egypt still had vivifying power enough under the Macedonians and Greeks
to keep up its religion and institutions in the ancient way. The foreign
princes occupied in every way the places and footsteps of the ancient
Pharaohs. Karnak also bears testimony to that. We here find the names of
Alexander and Philip Aridæus, who preceded the Ptolemies in the
restoration of that which the Persians had destroyed. Alexander rebuilt
the back, Philip the front sanctuary of the great temple; the Ptolemies
added sculptures to it, restored other parts, and even erected new
sanctuaries at no small cost, but of course no longer in the
magnificent, classic-Egyptian style of ancient times. Even the last
epoch of expiring Egypt, that of the Roman supremacy, is still
represented in Karnak by a number of representations, carried out under
Augustus Cæsar.

Thus this remarkable place, which in the lapse of 3,500 years had grown
from the little sanctuary in the midst of the great temple, into an
entire temple-city covering a surface of a quarter of a geographical
mile in length, and about 2,000 feet in breadth, is also an almost
unbroken thread and an interesting standard for the history of the whole
New Egyptian empire, from its commencement in the Old Empire down to its
fall under the Roman rule. Almost in the same proportion as the
dynasties and kings are portrayed in and about the temple of Karnak,
they stand forth or retire in Egyptian history.

Up the river from Karnak, where the stream, parted by the fertile island
of el Gedîdeh, again unites, a second glorious memorial of the ancient
city arises: the temple of Luqsor. One of the mightiest Pharaohs of the
eighteenth dynasty, Amenophis III., who had only built a side temple at
Karnak, adding little to the principal structure, here erected a
sanctuary, made the more magnificent on account of the little he had
done at Karnak, dedicated to Ammon, which the great Ramses enlarged by a
second stately court toward Karnak. For, although a good half-hour
distant, this temple must yet be looked upon as within the ancient and
sacred bounds of the great national sanctuary. That is proved by the
otherwise difficult, and inexplicable circumstance, that the entrance of
the temple, although hard by the shore, is yet turned away from the
river and toward Karnak, with which it was also architecturally placed
in direct connection by colonnades, series of rams, and roads.

With Luqsor end the ruins on the eastern shore. The monuments of western
Thebes offer a still greater variety, because here the subterranean
dwellings and places of the dead are added to the superterranean
structures for the living. From Qurna there once extended an unbroken
series of the most magnificent temples to Medînet Habu, almost filling
the narrow desert district between the Nile-steeped fertile land and the
foot of the mountains. Immediately behind these temples stretches the
vast Necropolis, the tombs of which lying close together like
bee-cells, are hewn partly in the rock-soil of the plain, partly in the
adjoining hills.

Qurna is situated on that spur of the Libyan mountains nearest to the
river. In suddenly turning to the west, the mountains form a species of
ravine, the outer part of which, where it is separated from the valley
by low ranges of hills, is called El Asasîf. Behind it is bounded by
high, steep crags, which rear their glorious stone in the noon and
morning sun. These sudden precipices of the limestone mountains, so
firmly and equally grown, and therefore so eminently calculated for the
sculptures in the rock-tombs, seem to have arisen on the clay stratum
beneath, which has withdrawn by its gradual disintegration.

In this rock-creek are the oldest graves belonging to the Old Empire.
Their entrances are seen far up in the northern rocks, directly under
the perpendicular wall, which ascends from the suddenly-inclined
rubbish-mounds to the tops of the mountain-ridges. This outer position,
and the paths bordered with low stone walls, leading steeply and
straightly from the valley several hundred feet to their entrances,
reminded me at once of the graves of Benihassan of the same period. They
were made in the second half of the third millenium B.C. under the king
of the eleventh and twelfth dynasties of Manetho, of which the former
founded the might of Thebes, and erected the city into the seat of their
dominion, independent of Memphis, the latter rendered it the imperial
city of the whole country.

These grottos, of which some are found on the neighbouring hills of the
same, mostly descend deep into the rock in an obtuse angle, but are not
painted or written; on the stone sarcophagi only were there any
particular pains bestowed; these consist usually of the finest
limestone, and are occasionally more than nine feet long, and are
decorated and written in the careful and pure style of that period, but
with a certain degree of sparingness. One of these sarcophagi we shall
bring with us, as I have already once stated. It has, a few days since,
been safely transported into the plain, after the long totally choked-up
shaft had been excavated, and the living rock itself broken through, to
obtain a shorter way out. The person to whom the grave belonged was the
son of a prince, and himself bore the dynastic name Nentef, of the
eleventh royal dynasty.

In the outermost corner of the same rock-creek is situated the oldest
temple structure of western Thebes, which belongs to the period of the
first mighty regeneration of the New Egyptian Empire. A street, above
1,600 feet long, ornamented on both sides by colossal rams and sphinxes,
led from the valley in a straight line to a court, then by a flight of
steps to another, the front wall of which was adorned with
representations, and a colonnade, and at last by a second stair to a
well-preserved granite portal, and the last temple court surrounded on
both sides by decorated halls and chambers, and ended behind by a broad
façade built on to the steep rock-wall. By another granite portal in the
middle of this façade, we come at last into the innermost space of the
temple, hewn in the rock and vaulted with stone, whence again several
little niches and spaces opened to the sides and back. All these places
were covered with the most beautiful paintings, gaily coloured on a grey
ground, and executed in the most finished style of the period. This
grand structure, beside which other now destroyed buildings once stood,
seems originally to have been connected with the river by a street
traversing the whole valley, and reaching the great temple of Karnak on
the other side; and I doubt not that for this behoof the narrow,
rock-gate was artificially broken through, by which the temple road
leads on its entrance into the valley. It was a Queen Numt Amen, the
elder sister of Tuthmosis III., who carried out this daring design of an
architectural communication between both the sides of the valley, the
same who erected the largest obelisks before the temple of Karnak. She
is never represented on her monuments as a woman, but in male attire;
the inscriptions alone inform us of her sex. Without doubt it was then
against the legitimate rule that a woman should hold the government; for
that reason probably her brother, who was still a minor, appears as a
co-regent. After her death, all her cartouches were turned into
Tuthmosis-cartouches, the feminine expressions of the inscriptions
changed, and her name was never mentioned in the later lists of the
legitimate kings.

Of Tuthmosis III., who completed the work of his royal sister during his
long reign, two temples still exist, both erected at the edge of the
desert. The northernmost one of these is now only recognisable in its
foundations and in the remains of its brick pylones; the southern one,
however, near Medînet Habu is yet well preserved, and, to judge from
some sculptures, might belong in its first planning to an earlier
Tuthmosis, and was only completed by the other. His second successor,
Tuthmosis IV., also erected a temple, now almost disappeared.

He was followed by Amenophis III., under whose long and glorious reign
the temple of Luqsor was built. He is represented by the two giant
colossi, near Medînet Habu, pushed far forward into the fertile plain,
once standing at the gate of a mighty temple, the remains of which,
however, principally lie buried under the harvests of the annually
rising soil of the valley. Perhaps a roadway, like that to the north,
led hence through the valley to the opposite Luqsor. The north-eastern
of the two colossi was the celebrated vocal statue, to which the Greeks
attached the pleasant legend of the handsome Memnon, who greeted his
mother Aurora every morn at sunrise, while she, because of his early
hero-death, watered him with her dewy tears. This mythos, as Letronne
has proved, was formed at a very late period; as the peculiar phenomena
of the trembling tone, the consequence of the cracking of little
particles by the sudden warming of the cold stone, took its rise when
the statue, already cracked, was more shattered by an earthquake in the
year 27 B.C. The occurrence of cracking and sounding stones in the
desert and in great fields of ruins is not unfrequent in Egypt; the
nature of the flint conglomerate of which the statue is composed is
particularly inclined to it, as the innumerable cracks, great and
small, which pass in every direction through those portions of the
statue inscribed at the Greek period, at that time therefore unharmed,
show. It is also remarkable how many of the cracked and loose pieces
sound bell-like on being struck, while others remain dead and toneless,
according as their respective positions make them more or less damped.
The numerous Greek and Roman inscriptions which are graven on the
statue, and announce the visit of foreigners, particularly if they had
been so fortunate as to hear the morning greeting, begin first under
Nero, and only go down to the time of Septimius Severus, to whom is due
the restoration of the originally monolithic statue. Since this
re-erection of the upper portion in single block, the phenomenon of the
sounding stone appears to have become less frequent and less apparent,
if had not quite stopped. The mutation of the name of the still
remembered Amenophis (as the inscriptions testify) into Memnon seems to
have been principally induced by the name of this western side of
Thebes, Memnonia, which the Greeks seem to have explained to themselves
as “Palaces of Memnon,” while the name, hieroglyphically _mennu_,
signified “palaces” in general. At the present day the statues are,
called Shama and Tama by the Arabs, or together the Sanamât (not
Salamât), _i. e._ “the idols.”[95]

When we arrived here at the beginning of November, the whole plain, as
far as we could see, was inundated, and formed a single ocean, from
which the Sanamât arose more strange and lonely than from the green and
accessible fields. I have a few days since measured the colossi, as also
the rise of the Nile deposit on the bases of their thrones. The height
of the Memnon statue, reckoned from head to foot, but without the tall
headdress they once wore, was 14·28 metres, or 45½ feet, and to this the
base, another block, 4·25 metres, or 13 feet 7 inches, of which about
three feet was hidden by a surrounding step. Thus the statues originally
stood nearly sixty feet (perhaps nearly seventy feet with the pshent)
above the level of the temple. Now the level of the valley is eight feet
above this soil, and the inundation sometimes rises to the upper edge of
the bases, therefore fourteen feet higher than it could have done at
this time of its erection, if the water was not to reach the temple. If
this fact be added to our discovery at Semneh, where the mirror of the
Nile had sunk above twenty-three feet in historical times, it is plain
from that simple addition, that the Nile in the cataracts, between here
and Semneh, fell at least thirty-seven feet deeper then than now.

The last king, too, of that great eighteenth dynasty, Horus, had erected
a temple in the neighbourhood of Medînet Habu, which, however, is now
buried in the rubbish. The fragments of a colossal statue of the king in
hard, almost marble, limestone, the bust of which formed in the most
perfect style, weighing several hundred centenaries, is intended for our
museum, seem to indicate the position of the former temple entrance.

Two temples of the next dynasty are preserved, which were built by the
two mightiest and most celebrated of all the Pharaohs, Sethos I., and
his son Ramses II. The temple of the former is the northernmost in
position, and is usually denominated the temple of Qurna, as the old
village of Qurna here grew up round a Koptic church, lying principally
within the great temple courts, but was subsequently abandoned by the
inhabitants, and changed for the rock tombs of the neighbouring mountain
spur.

Farther south, between the now quite destroyed temples of Tuthmosis III.
and IV., lies the temple of Ramses (II.) Miamun, the most beautiful,
probably, in Egypt, as to architectural design and proportions, though
behind that of Karnak in grandeur and various interest. The back part of
the temple, as also the halls of the hypostole, have disappeared, and
their original plan could only be ascertained by long and continued
excavations carefully superintended by Erbkam. Round about this
destroyed part of the temples, the spacious brick saloons are visible,
which are all covered by regularly well built cylindrical vaults, and
belong to the period of the erection of the temple. For this is
unmistakeably proved by the stamps, which were imprinted on each brick
in the royal factory, and contain the cartouches of King Ramses. That
this temple had already attracted great attention in antiquity, is
evident from the particular description which Diodorus Siculus gives of
it after Hecatæus, under the name of the Tomb of Osymandyas.

Immediately to the right of the temple, one of the few industrious
Fellahs has planted a little kitchen garden, which gives us some change
at our table, and was therefore spared, as it should be, with respect,
in our excavations, which threatened to extend thither, at the entreaty
of the friendly brown gardener, although it covers the foundation of a
small temple not previously seen, the entrance of which I found in the
first court of the Ramses temple.

The most southern and best preserved of the temple palaces, lies amid
the ruined houses of Medînet Habu, a Koptic city, now quite deserted,
but once not inconsiderable. It was founded by Ramses III. the first
king of the twentieth dynasty, the wealthy Rhampsinitus of
Herodotus,[96] in the thirteenth century B.C., and it celebrates on its
walls the tremendous wars of this king by land and sea, which might vie
with those of the great Ramses. Within the second court a great church
was founded by the Kopts, the monolithic columns of which still lie
scattered around. The back places are mostly buried in rubbish. But of
very peculiar interest is the far-projected pylon-like fore-building of
the temple, which contained, in four stories, one above another, the
private rooms of the king. On its wall, the prince is represented in the
midst of his family; however, he caresses his daughters, known as
princesses by their side-locks, plays draughts with them, and receives
fruits and flowers from them.

With this building closes the great series of palace-temples, known by
the particular designation of Memnonia. They embrace the actual prime of
the New Empire, for after Ramses III. the outward might, as well as the
inward greatness of the empire declined. Of this period only, and that
immediately following, do we find the tombs of the kings in the rock
valleys of the mountains.

To these the entrance lies on the other side of the promontory of Qurna.
Wild and desolate, the rock walls, which round themselves off to bald
peaks, rise on both sides, and have their golden tops covered with
coal-black stones, burnt, as it were, by the sun. The peculiarly solemn
and dull character of this region always struck me the most when I rode
after sunset over the unmeasureable rock rubbish which covers the earth
to a great height, and is only interrupted by broad water-streams, which
have formed themselves in the course of thousands of years, by the
unfrequent, though not unknown storms, as experience has shown. All
around, everything is dumb and dead; only now and then the hollow bark
of the jackal, or the ominous cries of the night owl, varies the sound
of the active hoof of my little donkey.

After many windings, which lead by great circuits almost immediately
behind the high mountain wall of the already described valley of Asasif,
the dale parts into two arms, of which the right one leads up to the
oldest of the tombs. Two only of these are opened, both of the
eighteenth dynasty, the one belonging to the time of Amenophis IV. the
Memnon of the Greeks, the other to king Ai, a contemporaneous monarch
soon succeeding him, who is not included in the monumental lists of the
legitimate kings.[97] The latter lies at the outer end of the slowly
rising rock ravine; the granite sarcophagus of the king has been
shattered in the little tomb-chamber, and his name is everywhere
carefully erased, to the least line, on the walls as well as on the
sarcophagus. The other lies far forward in the vale, is of great extent,
and with handsome, but unfortunately much mutilated sculptures, through
the hands of time and mankind. Besides these two graves, there are
several others incomplete without sculpture; others, without doubt, are
hidden under the high mounds of rubbish, the removal of which would take
more time and means than we thought proper to give to it after severe
trials. On one place, where I had excavations made after tolerably
certain proofs, a door and chamber were certainly discovered about ten
feet below the rubbish, but without sculptures. Yet some remains of
bases were brought to light, containing a yet unknown royal title.

The left branch of the principal valley, which was originally closed by
an elevation of the soil, and was first opened artificially by a
prepared pathway, at this place contains the graves of almost all the
kings of the nineteenth and twentieth dynasties.

Here usually there sinks a wide-mouthed shaft, on one of the declivities
of the hills, not very high over the level of the valley, descending in
an oblique angle. As soon as the overhanging rock has reached a
perpendicular height of twelve to fifteen feet, the sharply-cut
door-posts at the first entrance appear at once, provided with one or
two great doors for closing. There too, the painted sculptures usually
begin, forming a strange contrast to the sudden visitor between the
craggy rocks, and the wild stones, by their sharp lines, shining
surfaces, and fresh living colours. Long corridors of imposing height
and width lead one still farther into the rock mountains. In single
divisions, formed by the narrowing of the passage, and by new doors, the
paintings continue on the walls and ceiling. The king appears adoring
several gods, and addressing to them his prayers and his excuses for his
earthly career. The peaceful employed of the beatified spirits are
portrayed on one wall, and the torments of the wicked on the other; on
the ceiling, the goddess is depicted lying along, as well as the hours
of the day and night with the influences which they exercise on
mankind, and the astrological meanings, all accompanied with explanatory
inscriptions. At length we arrive in a great vaulted pillared saloon,
the walls of which generally show the representations on a golden yellow
ground, from which it has received the name of the Golden Saloon. This
was intended for the royal sarcophagus, which stood in the middle from
six to ten feet in height. But often when the king, after the tomb was
completed, felt himself yet unweakened in his powers, and expected
another series of years, the middle passage of this saloon was hewn in a
steeper manner, as the beginning of a new one; new corridors and
chambers were produced; sometimes the direction of the excavation was
altered, until the king put a second period to the work, and the series
was closed with a second hall, generally more spacious and magnificent
than the first; to this were added, if time permitted, smaller spaces at
both sides, destined for particular offerings to the dead, until the
last hour sounded, and the royal corpse, after its seventy days of
embalment, was laid in the sarcophagus. This was then so cunningly
closed, that the granite colossus had always to be broken in pieces by
the later violators of the graves, as the cover could not be lifted off.

The tombs of the princesses also, which lie altogether in a little
valley behind Medînet Habu, at the southern end of Memnonia, belong
without doubt to the eighteenth and twentieth dynasties, as also the
most important of the numerous private tombs, which extend from the
other side of Medînet Habu, over mountain and valley to the entrance of
the Valley of Kings. The priests of rank, and high officers, were fond
of representing in their tombs all their wealth in horses, carriages,
herds, boats, and household goods, as well as their hunting-grounds,
fish-ponds, gardens, and halls; even the artificer and mechanic, busied
in their different employments, are to be found on many of the walls; on
which account many of these are of higher interest to us than even the
king’s tombs, the representations on which are almost always carried
through the whole life to the death.

Of later monuments, those of the twenty-sixth dynasty, in the seventh
and sixth century before Christ, are the most remarkable. The greater
number of these are in the rocky cove between Qurna and the hill Abd el
Qurna, hewn out of flat surfaces, and are, for distinction, called el
Asasif. The rocky plains here alone offered room for inscriptions, and
these have been largely used. Already, from here, may be perceived a
multitude of high gates and walls built of black bricks; these enclose,
in long squares, sunken courts, the entrances to which are high arched
pylon-doors, which, from a distance, look like large Roman triumphal
arches. When you enter within the walls, you look directly into the
court, dug down into the rock from twelve to fifteen feet deep, which
you can descend by a staircase. This uncovered court is now the largest
accessible tomb, one hundred feet long and seventy-four broad; it was
excavated for a royal writer, named Petamenap. From this you go through
an antechamber into a large rock-hall, with two rows of pillars, of an
extent of sixty-five feet by fifty-two feet, with rooms and corridors
on both sides; then through an arched entrance into a second hall with
eight pillars, of about fifty-two feet by thirty-six feet; and then into
a third hall with four pillars, thirty-one feet long and broad; and at
last into a chamber twenty feet by twelve feet, which ends in a niche.
Out of this chamber, at the end of the first row of rooms, a door leads
into a very large room, and to the right into another, to a continuation
of six corridors, with two stair-cases of nine steps and one of
twenty-three steps, into a chamber, in which a pit forty-four feet deep,
leads to another small room. This second course of rooms and passages,
which run at a right angle to the first, are 172 feet long, but the
first, reckoning the outer court with them, is 311 feet. From the
fountain-room, another corridor leads to the right into a diagonal room,
together measuring fifty-eight feet in this direction. Before the two
stair-cases, in the second suite of rooms, there opens a fourth line of
passages to the right, running in the same direction for 122 feet, in
which, to the left, is a large square space sixty feet each way, with
other rooms adjoining, the interior of which, on the four sides, is
ornamented like a monstrous sarcophagus. In the middle, under this great
square, rests the sarcophagus of the dead, which one, however, can only
reach by means of a sunken pit of eighteen feet deep, which reaches to
the fourth suite, by a horizontal passage of fifty-eight feet, to a
third pit; through this to new rooms, and at last through the roof of
the last to another room, containing the sarcophagus, which really lies
exactly under the centre of the above described square. The whole
surface of this private tomb is reckoned at 21,600 feet, and with the
pit-room 23,148 square feet.[98] This immense work appears much more
colossal when one recollects that all the walls, pillars, and doors from
top to bottom are covered with innumerable inscriptions and
representations, which, from the carefulness, exactitude, and elegance
of the execution, throw one into ever-increasing astonishment.

Much less important are the few remains to be found of the later foreign
dominion. Of these there are only two small temples in the neighbourhood
of Medînet Habu, erected under the Ptolemies, and a third may be
mentioned, which lies to the south, at the end of the great lake of
Medînet Habu. The oldest sculptures in this last temple are of the time
of Cæsar Augustus; but the well-preserved cell of Antoninus Pius was
already built at that time. The outer door of this temple contains the
only representation yet found of the Emperor Otho, the discovery of
which afforded an immense pleasure to Champollion and Rosellini. They,
however, overlooked the circumstance that on the opposite side the name
of the Emperor Galba was to be found, till then unknown in Egypt.

So soon as the time of Strabo, ancient Thebes was already divided into
several villages, and Germanicus visited it as we do, out of a desire
for knowledge, and respect for the great antiquity of its monuments,
“cognoscendæ antiquitatis,” as Tacitus informs us. Decius, A.D. 250, is
the Emperor’s name, which I have found mentioned in hieroglyphics in all
Egypt; it appears in a representation in the temple of Esneh. A century
later the holy Athanasius retired into the Theban desert, among the
Christian Hermits. The edict of Theodosius against heathendom, A.D. 391,
deprived the Egyptian temples of their last authority, and favoured that
of the monks and hermits, before whom, from that time, Egyptian
Christendom bowed down.

From that time there arose in the whole country, and soon after in the
neighbourhood of the Upper Nile, innumerable churches and convents, and
the caverns of the desert were turned into troglodyte dwellings, for an
ascetic hermit population.[99] The Theban Necropolis afforded above all
places convenience for this new requisition. The tombs of the kings, as
well as the private ones, were used as Christian cells, and soon bore on
their walls traces of their new destination. In a tomb at Qurna, there
is still a letter from St. Athanasius, archbishop of Alexandria, to the
orthodox monks of Thebes, preserved on the white stucco in handsome
uncials, but unfortunately in a very fragmentary state. They were
particularly fond of turning ancient temples into Koptic churches or
convents.

In the temple of Medînet Habu (city of Habu). the largest church appears
to have been erected. Immense monolithic, granite columns, cover the
floor of the second court in great numbers; in order to make room for
the choir, an old Egyptian column, on the north side, has been removed;
and from the rooms transformed into priests’ cells there has been a row
of doors broken in the outer wall. The adjoining convent, Dêr el
Medînet, surnamed “the townley,” was erected near the Ptolemic temple,
behind the hill of Qurnet Murrâi. Another church stood in the temple of
Old Qurna, and to it belonged most probably the convent Dêr el Bachît,
which lies on the hill of Qurna. The ruins of a third convent cover the
space of the temple of the Queen Numt-amen, in the corner of the valley
of Asasif, and bear the name of Dêr el Bahri, the northern convent.

Such changes in these ancient palace structures ensured their being
upheld, sometimes to their advantage, and sometimes to their
disadvantage. Numbers of walls were either removed or broken through, in
order to make room for new arrangements; on others, the heathen
representations were destroyed, in order to make naked walls, or the
human figures, and even the figures of animals in the inscriptions,
particularly the heads, even up to the roofs were violently hacked and
disfigured. Sometimes, however, the same pious, busy hands served us by
preserving the ancient glory in the most complete manner; instead of
tiring themselves with the hammer, they plastered them over from top to
bottom with Nile earth, which afterwards was generally covered with
white, in order to receive Christian pictures. In the course of time,
however, this Koptic plaster crumbled away, and the ancient painting
appeared again, with a brilliancy and astonishing freshness, which they
would have hardly retained had they been left uncovered, and exposed to
the sun and air. In the niche of an old cell I found St. Peter in
old-Byzantine style, holding the keys, and pointing upwards with his
finger; out of his nimbus peeped, however, from his half-fallen
Christian mantle the cow-horns of the goddess Hathor, the Egyptian
Venus; to her was brought originally the incense and the sacrifices of
the neighbouring kings, which were now offered to the reverend apostle.
Often have I assisted time with my own hand, to loosen the generally
uninteresting Koptic representation on the plaster, in order to bring
out the hidden magnificent sculptures of the Egyptian gods and kings, to
their ancient and greater right upon our studies.

A great part of the Theban population is still Koptic on both sides of
the Nile; our Christian cook Siriân was born here, and a rich Kopt,
Mustafieh, who does not live far from us, brings us daily most excellent
wheaten bread. But for a long time the Arabian Mahommedan population has
taken the lead here, as well as in the whole country, against which the
Kopts have only ancient customs to bring forward, and their knowledge of
calculation, and the right of settlement in the most important financial
places.

The little church in which now every Sunday the Theban Christians
assemble, lies isolated in the great stony plain south of Medînet Habu.
It has an Arabic cupola, and is surrounded by a court and wall. A few
days since I went there, as I observed that the black turbans, which are
only worn by the Kopts, were going to the chapel in greater number than
usual. They were celebrating the feast of St. Donadeos, who founded the
church. The service was over; I met the old priest (who lived in, and
took care of the church), together with his numerous family. The spaces
were covered with mats; they showed me the divisions for the men and the
women, the little chapels ornamented with gay carvings, the square fonts
for christening, and holy water. Upon the reading-desk lay a large old
Koptic book, with sections of the Psalms and the Gospels, and Arabic
translations of them; I asked the old man if he could read Koptic; he
answered in the affirmative, but said his little boy could do it better
than he; his eyes had already become weak. I now seated myself upon the
mat, and the whole swarm of big and little yellow-brown children and
grandchildren of the old priest squatted round me. I asked the eldest
boy to read to me, and he immediately, with great fluency, began, not to
read, but to sing, _i. e._ to chaunt in an awkward, grumbling tone. I
interrupted him, and requested him to read slowly in his usual voice;
this he did with great difficulty and making many mistakes, which his
younger brother sometimes corrected over his shoulder; but when I went
so far as to ask the meaning of the separate words, he pointed coolly to
the Arabic translation, and told me that it was all there, and wanted to
read it to me; as to the single words, or the value of the single
letters over the sections, he could give no account, and the old man
also had doubtless never understood them. I then asked them to show me
the rest of the book-treasures belonging to the church, they were
immediately brought to me, in a large cloth, tied up by the four
corners; it contained some much-read Koptic and Arabic prayer-books. I
left a small present for the benefit of the church, and I had already
ridden some distance, when one of the boys overtook me, and out of
breath, brought me a small holy cake of biscuit, stamped with Koptic
crosses and Greek inscriptions, which had to be paid for by a second
bakshish. These are the Epigoni, the purest, unmixed successors of that
ancient Pharoah-people, who formerly conquered Asia and Ethiopia, and
led their prisoners from the north and south, into the great hall of
Ammon, at Karnak, in whose wisdom Moses was educated, and to whose
priesthood the Greek sages went to school.

“_O Aegypte, Aegypte! religionum tuarum solae supererunt fabulæ, aeque,
incredibiles posteris, solaque supererunt verba lapidibus incisa tua pia
facta narrantibus, et inhabitabit Aegyptum Scythes aut Indus aut aliquis
talis, id est vicina barbaria._”[100]

Now we know this _aliquis_, whom Hermes Trismegistos could not name; it
is the Turk, housing now in the regions of Osiris.

At the foot of our hill towards the green plain there stands a fine
clump of sont-trees, overshadowing a friendly well-built cistern; here
the sheep and goats are daily watered, and every evening and morning the
brown maidens and the veiled matrons, in their blue draped garments,
come down from their rock-caves, and then return with a solemn step,
with their water-jugs on their heads; a lovely picture from the
patriarchal times. But hard by this place of the refreshing element
there lies in the middle of the fruitful field a white barren spot; on
it two kilns are erected, on which, whenever there is any want of
material, the next blocks of the old temples and rock-caves, with their
paintings and inscriptions, are crushed and burnt into lime for mortar
to join other blocks drawn from these handy and inexhaustible quarries,
into a stable or some other government buildings.

On the same day on which I had visited the Koptic church, I desired to
ride thence to the village of Kôm el Birât, on the opposite side of the
great lake of Habu, now dried up. To my no small astonishment my guide,
the excellent old ’Auad, whom I have taken into my service on account of
his immense acquaintance with the locality, declared to me that he could
not accompany me; indeed, he almost dreaded to mention the name of the
village, and could not be induced to tell me anything about it, or about
his strange behaviour. At home, I first learnt through others, at a
later time too from himself, the reason of his refusal. Seven or eight
years before, a man was killed in the house of the sheîkh of Qurna, to
whose household Ἀuad then belonged, though for what cause does not
appear. In consequence of this event, the whole family of the murdered
man emigrated hence, and settled in Kôm el Birât. Since that time the
law of blood-vengeance exists between the two houses. No member of that
family has since set foot on the soil of Qurna, and if Ἀuad, or any one
else from the house of the sheikh were to show himself in that village,
any member of the injured family would be quite right in killing him in
open day.[101] Such is the ancient Arab custom.

I return from my wandering through the ruins of the royal city, and
through the changing thousands of years, which have passed over them, to
our fort on the exposed hill of Abd el Qurna. Wilkinson and Hay have
done an eminent service to later travellers, who, like ourselves,
purpose remaining a long time in Thebes, by the restoration of these
inhabitable places. An easy broad way leads windingly from the plain to
a spacious court, the left side of which towards the mountain is formed
by a long shadowy pillared row; behind this are several inhabitable
rooms. At the extremity of the court there is still a single
watch-tower, whence the Prussian flag is streaming, and close by it a
little house of two stories, the lower of which I myself inhabit. Space,
too, is there for the kitchen, the servants, and the donkeys.

Incomparably beautiful and attractive is the boundless prospect over the
Thebaic plain from the wall of the court, low towards the inside and
deep on the outside. Here all that remains of ancient Thebes may be
seen, or still better from the battlements of the tower or from the
hills immediately behind our house. Before us the magnificent ruins of
the Memnonia, from the hill of Qurna on the left, to the high pylones
towering over the black ruins of Medînet Habu to the right, then the
green region surrounded by the broad Nile, whence on the right the
lonely colossi of Amenophis rise; and on the other side of the river the
temple groups of Karnak and Luqsor, behind the plain, stretches for
several hours to the sharp little undulating outline of the Arabian
mountains, over which we see the first rays of the sun gleaming, and
pouring a wonderful flood of colours over the valley and rocky desert. I
cannot compare this ever-existing prospect with any other in the world;
but it reminds me forcibly of the picture, which I had for two years,
from the top of the Tarpeian rock, and which comprehended the whole
extent of ancient Rome, from the Aventine and the Tiber beneath it to
the Quirinal, and thence over the hill to the undulating Campagna, with
the beautiful profile, so strikingly like the one here, of the Alvan
mount in the back ground.

But our glance never turns on the far-reaching prospect without gliding
down to the silver waterway with peculiar attention, and following the
pointed sails, which may bring us letters or travellers from the north.
Winter here, as everywhere else, is a season of sociability. A week
never passes in which we do not see several guests. A visitor’s book,
which I have opened here for later travellers, and provided with a
preface, was dedicated to that use by our own signatures at the new
year. Since then more than thirty names have been entered, although the
book is only obtainable at our fort, and will only be delivered up to
our worthy castellan ’Auad on our departure.

For Christmas we have for the third time selected a palm, this much
nicer symbol than our fir, and decked it with little gifts and lights.
Our artists, also, celebrated the gay festival in another symbolical
manner; and a Christmas manger, carried out in a typical way, and placed
at the end of the rock-gallery, with the proper lights, was particularly
successful.

Among the travellers England, of course, was the most fully represented;
the French are less frequent, among whom, however, I must mention the
kindly scholar Ampère, who, as he told me, is going to remain several
months in the country, in order to improve his Egyptian studies.[102]
But German countrymen are also not wanting, and at the end of the year
we had the pleasure of seeing the Licentiate Strauss, son of the Court
Chaplain at Berlin, enter our dwelling with his cousin Dr. Krafft. We
were just about commencing our simple Sunday service, which I myself
conduct since the departure of our dear friend and former preacher of
the wilderness, Abeken, at Philae. I immediately yielded up to one of
the two reverend gentlemen what was much more fitting for them than for
me, and, as it happened that we had with us the sermons of both the
fathers of our dear guests, one of them was chosen for the day. Almost
at the same period, Herr Seufferheld and Dr. Bagge, from Frankfort,
visited us, and soon after our friend Dr. Schledehaus, from Alexandria,
and also the Austrian painter, Herr Sattler; and when M.M. Strauss and
Krafft visited us on their return, they met four other guests, M.M.
Tamm, Stamm, and Schwab, and the assessor Von Rohr, of Berlin. Twelve
Germans sat at our table to-day, among them nine Prussians.

LETTER XXXI.

UPON THE RED SEA, BETWEEN
GEBEL ZEIT AND TÔR.
_Good Friday, March 21, 1845._

Our ship lies motionless on the water, in sight of the distant coast of
Tôr, which we hoped to have reached last night. I take pen and paper in
hand, to quiet the most dreadful impatience, which is caused by an
unbearable calm under a hot sun, in a vessel only intended for packages.

On the 20th of February we crossed from Thebes from the west to the east
shore from Qurna to Karnak. Here we settled ourselves in some of the
rooms of the great temple; as I hoped, however, to travel, if possible,
to the peninsula of Sinai, so I restricted myself to the most necessary
examination of the monuments, in order to arrange the work during my
absence.

On the 3rd of March I set off. The younger Weidenbach accompanied me, to
assist me in the necessary drawings; besides him I took with me our
interpreter Jussuf, the _khawass_, Ibrahîm Aga, Gabre Máriam, and two
more servants. We sailed down the Nile as far as Qeneh. When it became
dark and the stars appeared, the till then lively conversation flagged,
and, lying on the deck, I watched the star Isis and the sparkling Sothis
(Sirius), those pole-stars of Egyptian chronology, as they gradually
passed over our heads. Our two boatmen were only inclined to be too
musical, and shouted out their whole treasury of songs, with an eternal
repetition, only interrupted occasionally by the short call, _sherk_,
_gharb_ (east, west), which was answered by the obedient, soft, boy’s
voice of our little steersman. Half waking, half dreaming, we glided
down the stream till toward midnight; even the Arabian din ceased, the
stroke of the oars became weaker, and at last our boat was left entirely
to the waves. The rising of the moon’s last quarter, and the grey dawn
of day, first roused us to fresh exertion.

We arrived in good time at Qeneh, where we were most hospitably received
at the house of the illustrious Seid Hussên. This is the important
personage through whom we send and receive all our letters, and who has
rendered himself highly esteemed by us on this account. He and his two
sons were highly serviceable to us, by the innumerable preparations
which were necessary for our hasty departure into the desert. In the
meantime, I was delighted by the patriarchal customs which governed this
most worthy family. All business was carried on here in the open air, as
it is in all Eastern countries, and mostly in the streets. Before each
house is a long divan, another in the room, friends come, salute
shortly, seat themselves almost unnoticed, and the business continues.
To important guests coffee is served, or the long pipe is presented;
slaves stand round ready on the slightest sign. Humble acquaintances
kiss the hand of the master of the house, even if they only pass by, all
serious and quiet without pathos, but with the usual sometimes long
murmured salutations. Should there be no more room on the divan, or
should it be occupied by more important persons, the new comers crouch
down on the ground beside it. Every one gets up and goes when he likes,
and what particularly struck us, without taking leave in any way,
notwithstanding the forms of salutation are so long. The master of the
house will also leave his guests without the slightest notice, if it be
not a noble visitor, which, when such happens, binds you often for a
long time to the uniform, and generally empty conversation. This
domestic life in the streets, which the old Greeks and Romans used in a
greater or less extent, and which is so different from our
office-and-room life, agrees with the whole Oriental character. The
appearance of each is always proper, attentive to everything that
happens, complaisant and obliging. In good families, like this, there
is, beside, a beautiful and real principle and example of family piety.
The old Hussên is above seventy, tall, with a white beard; yet,
notwithstanding his age, is an active participator in all that is
passing, and most friendly to everybody. The two sons are nearly fifty,
and carry on the business. They treat the old man with the greatest
respect. Both are great smokers, but they never smoke in the presence of
their father, this would be looked upon as a want of the proper respect
due to him; they lay the pipe down as soon as he enters. In the evening,
after supper, when the want of the pipe would be too great a punishment,
they seat themselves outside the door to smoke; whilst we, as guests,
sit with the old man in the room, and they only take part in the
conversation through the door.

On the evening before our departure, we visited a factory of the
celebrated _qullehs_ (cooling-vessels) of which every year 200,000 are
made, and also the field whence the clay is taken used in their
formation. It is only one _feddan_ (160 square rods) in size.

On the 6th of March we left Qeneh with fifteen camels, after two days’
stay. The first day we only rode three hours, as far as the charming
well Bir Ambar, lying among the palms, which has been supplied by
Ibrahim Pasha with a domed building, for the caravans. The second
encampment at the station Leqêta, was soon reached on the following day.
The old road to Kossêr from Koptos, the present Quft, the hills of which
we saw to the right in the distance, leads first to the mountains El
Qorn, (the horns). In their vicinity we first came down into the broad
road-way of Kossêr, and reached Leqêta after a sixteen hours’ march,
when the roads from Qeneh, Quft, (Koptos), Qûs (the ancient
[Illustration: Koptic], or _Apollinopolis parva_), and a fourth, leading
directly from Luqsor, all unite. Five wells give tolerable water there;
two half-formed buildings are destined for the reception of travellers.

Here I observed a trait of Arab hospitality which I must mention. At the
parting meal in Qeneh, a fresh draught of the well-tasted Nile-water was
handed me in a gilt goblet, elegantly ornamented with pious passages
from the Koran. The simple yet pleasing form of the segment of a ball
pleased me, and I told old Hussên so without expecting the answer: “The
goblet is thine.” As I had nothing with me to give in return, I passed
over the politeness, repeatedly declining the gift, and letting the cup
remain without further remark. When I went to rest at night, I found it
at my bedside, but gave express orders not to pack it up the next
morning. We departed, and I did not open my travelling-bag until we
reached Leqêta. How astonished was I, when my first glance again fell
upon the carefully-packed goblet. Gabre Máriam had closed my luggage,
and he confessed, on my angry question as to how the cup had come there
against my order, that he had placed it there at the particular desire
of old Seid Hussên. Now I was finally beaten, and had to think of some
gift for my return.

We set out the same night from Leqêta, and rode three hours forward to
an old, now little used, and waterless station at the Gebel Maáuad. Our
Arabs of the Ag’aïze tribe, are not so animated as the Abâbde or
Bisharūn, and their camels are worse.

Beyond Gebel Maáuad, we entered the hilly sand-plain Qsûr el Benat, and
then again behind another pass, the plain Reshrashi. At the end of them
to the left, rises the Gebel Abu Gûeh, on which we turned our backs, and
passed round the corner of a rock, on the sandstone walls of which I
found the cartouches of the sun-worshipper Amenophis IV. and his queen,
with the shining sun[103] sculptured over them. Their names were partly
erased as everywhere else, although the king had not then assumed the
name of Bech-en-aten. Toward noon we entered the mountain, and in three
quarters of an hour we arrived at the well Hamamât.

Here there seems to have been an ancient Koptic colony, and the broad
wall built down to the depth of nearly eighty feet, in which a winding
stair leads to the bottom, is still ascribed by the Arabs to the Nazâra,
the Christians. The ancient quarries, our next goal, were distant about
half an hour from the well.

In a spacious grotto, covered with Greek and Roman inscriptions, I
established my principal quarters; as a cursory view amply demonstrated
that we had several days’ work before us. The ancient Egyptians, who
were great admirers and excellent connoisseurs of the different sorts of
stone, had here found a layer of precious green breccia, and beside
that, fine dark-coloured veins of granite, which had already been
exhausted under the sixth dynasty in the beginning of the thirtieth
century B.C. Since that time, numerous inscriptions have been found on
the surrounding rocks. Among these some of the Persian rule are
particularly worthy of note. The hieroglyphical cartouches of Cambyses,
Darius, Xerxes, and Artaxerxes, are almost solely known from hence, and
a royal high architect of the dynasty of the Psammetici has given his
family-tree in no less than twenty-three generations, who, without a
single exception, all occupied the same important post, and partly in
connection with considerable sacerdotal offices. At the top of the long
list is an ancestress, who must have lived seven hundred years before
the last link of the chain. A great number of Greek proscynemata also
lead us to the conclusion that the quarries were used even in the Greek
and Roman time. We were engaged for five days from an early hour till
late in the evening in these impressions and copies, to the great
astonishment of the small caravans that passed almost every day, as the
great pilgrim-road from Upper Egypt, and a great part of the Sudan leads
through this valley to Kossêr and Mekka.

My purpose had originally been to have gone from Qeneh to Kossêr, and
thence embark for Tôr. But as the passage takes a long time, I was very
glad to learn at Qeneh, that there is also a way from Hamamât through
the midst of the mountains to Gebel Zeït, opposite Tôr. I therefore
determined to pursue this difficult, but more interesting and shorter
way. At the same time I sent a courier on to Kossêr, to send a ship
immediately to Gebel Zeït, to wait our arrival.

In Hamamât I had still to stand a heavy row with the Arabs, who had
suddenly taken a decided dislike to the little-known and almost
waterless route, and who would rather have conducted us along the shore
by way of Kossêr. But as it was important for me to visit certain
ancient quarries in the depth of the mountains, I threatened to write to
the Pasha if they did not keep their word, and made them answerable for
all mischances. In this way I brought my plan to bear, after much
hesitation. But it was nearly wrecked; for by the negligence of our
cook, who had left vinegar standing in copper pots, we were almost
poisoned the evening before our departure. However after a wretched
night, we got over it, and went off from Hamamât on the 13th of March.

We had taken six full water-pots with us for Qeneh; the camel-drivers
were worse off, and were obliged to thirst a great deal. Besides our old
trustworthy leader Selâm, I had brought another guide Selîm from Qeneh,
who was said to know the mountainous region between Hamamât and Gebel
Zeït very well, although he had only gone once over the ground twelve
years before. Under his guidance we arrived in two days at Gebel
Fatîreh. After much trouble and a great deal of seeking, we found the
remains of the ancient colony, who had here worked a fine black and
white granite. Hence, however, the conductor’s ignorance became apparent
in many ways. We arrived on the evening of the 15th of March at a high
ridge, on the rocky ground of which we were obliged to pass the night,
as no tent could be erected. The next day, Palm Sunday, we suddenly came
early to a steep precipice, which sinks down to the depth of 800 feet
between the two chains of the Munfîeh mountains. It seemed impossible to
cross the precipitous and dangerous path with a caravan. The Arabs
protested in a body against every attempt to do so, and broke out into
the most violent imprecations against Selîm. He was now in a critical
position. He was evidently unacquainted with the difficulties of the
way; the passable roads lead, of course, at a great distance, either by
Nech êl Delfe to the east, or by Shaib el Benât to the west. To have
taken one of these two routes would have cost us at least two more
days, and as we had lost much time at Gebel Fatîreh, we should have come
into the greater danger of a want of water, as our provision had been
very scantily reckoned, and we had only one well to expect between
Hamamât and Gebel Zeït, which was said to be by Gebel Dochân. I
therefore gave orders and (notwithstanding the most violent opposition)
succeeded in having all the camels unladen at the top, and the whole of
the baggage carried down on the shoulders of the Arabs. My own
attendants had to set the example, and we all of us joined in the work.
All the boxes and packages were transported singly from one rock to the
other; this was most difficult to do with the great water-vessels, which
could only be moved by three or four men at a time. Then the unloaded
animals were carefully led down, and lo, the daring attempt succeeded
without any misfortune or injury, under loud and hearty invocations of
the holy camel-saint Abd el Qader. After three laborious hours
everything was completed and the animals were reloaded.

Soon, however, we were to run into a far greater danger. I rode, as
usually, before the caravan with Maximilian[104] and some attendants,
and left the company to follow in my donkey’s track in the sand. Toward
noon we saw to our left, the Gebel Dochân, “the smoke mountain,” rising
dark blue behind the Munfîeh chain; and after some hours, when we
emerged from the higher mountains into a hilly but more open district,
we perceived, for the first time, beyond the wide plain and the sea
behind it, the far-distant mountains of Tôr, lying in a third quarter of
the world, which we should soon enter upon.

After three o’clock we came to two Bedouin huts, made of mats, in which
we found a woman and a bright-eyed brown-complexioned boy, who gave us
some milk. The boy, on my question as to whether there were any old
walls in the neighbourhood, led me to a solitary granite rock,
surrounded by a rough but well-laid wall ten feet in height, about an
hour distant. The square, of which the rock formed the Acropolis, was
seventy paces long and sixty broad; the entrance from the south had two
round half-towers, the same at the four corners, and in the middle of
the three other sides. Within spaces were divided off, in the centre was
a well of burnt bricks, but it was now filled up.[105]

According to the account of our guide, we were now in the neighbourhood
of the water, which was understood to be only half a day’s journey from
our last encampment. The sun, however, set without our having attained
the desired goal. By the sparing light of a young moon, we at last
entered a high pass, which Selîm assured us would conduct us to the
well. We ascended for a long time between naked cliffs of granite; the
moon set, no wells were to be seen, and the guide confessed that he had
missed the right valley. We were obliged to return. The same occurred in
a second and third valley, to which the evidently confused guide had
directed our steps, after several changes in our route. He excused
himself on account of the uncertain light of the moon, and was certain
that he should find the proper road at the dawn of day. Thus there was
nothing for us to do but to lie down on the hard ground in our light and
airy clothes, and seek to obtain a fitful slumber, without food, without
water, for our bottles were long since empty, and the little store of
four biscuits per man had long been eaten. Our only defence against the
cold north wind consisted of a few camel-saddles. Thus we comforted
ourselves, with the stars above us and the stones beneath.

As the morning dawned we mounted again. My donkey, who had drank his
last spare draught of water twenty-four hours before, and who did not
understand how to abstain like the camels, refused to proceed. Selîm,
however, was in good spirits, and expected soon to be in the right path
again. We discovered camel-tracks in great numbers. “But a little
while,” exclaimed the guide, “and we shall be on the spot!” Our hopes
were again animated.

Pretty variegated granite and porphyry blocks, which I perceived in the
sand, were joyful tokens of the proximity of the _Mons porphyrites_. In
the mean time the broad valley, into which we had turned, got narrower
and narrower, and divided into two arms, the right one of which we
took. But this again divided, and the whole neighbourhood, according to
former descriptions, showed us that we were again on a wrong track. To
give our wearied animals some rest, I halted, and sent out the guide
alone to find the right way. We encamped under the shadow of a cliff,
hungry, and eager for a draught of water.

Our position grew critical. I began to doubt that our guide would
succeed in discovering the well in these uniform desolate mountain
passes. And where was our caravan? Had it found its way to the water? If
they had followed the traces of our donkey as before, they must also
have lost their way. We waited impatiently for Selîm; he could at any
rate bring us back to the Arab huts, which we had seen the previous day.
But one hour followed another; Selîm came not. The sun rose higher, and
robbed of the slight shade of the rock where we had taken refuge, we sat
silently on the burning stones. We dared not leave the spot, for fear of
missing Selîm. Had he met with an accident, or had he so forgotten
himself as only to think of his own safety, and to leave us to our fate,
as had happened some years before to three Turks, who were never seen
again, in the same wilderness! Or was Selîm too weak to return to us? He
had almost always gone on foot, and must have been much more exhausted
than ourselves.

From time to time we mounted the adjacent heights and fired our
muskets,--all in vain! At last we were obliged to resign ourselves to
the melancholy certainty that we should not see our guide again. Noon
had arrived after four hours of waiting, and also the time for
departure, if the hope of reaching the Arab huts, about six hours
distant from us, was to be accomplished. For it would have been
fool-hardy to seek any longer for the well, as Selîm himself had not
found it. Gebel Zeït, where our ship was lying, was three and a half
days’ journey from us; the Nile on the other side of the mountain, five
days’ journey; the camels had drunk nothing for four days, and the
donkey was thoroughly weakened.

We therefore set out. My companion had done everything I had proposed;
but never have I felt my responsibility for others, whose lives,
together with my own, were in jeopardy, so heavily as in that hesitating
resolve. It seemed foolhardy to travel in this totally uninhabited
highland, already confused and even more put out of the way by our
nocturnal windings without a guide, according to the stars; and yet
there was nothing else to be done.

We determined, after much consultation, to ride back into the principal
valley, which we had entered in the morning with such hope. But the
infinite variety of the naked craggy mountains, and the sand and
rubbish-filled valley, treeless and bushless, make so wholly uniform
impressions, that no one of us would have recognised the principal
valley as the right, if the direction and general distance of it had not
told us that it was the right one. At the end of the valley we had again
to enter the region of the hills, between which it seemed possible to
find the Arab huts towards the south, as I had taken the bearing of the
principal peak of the Dochân from the neighbouring hill-fort. The huts
were of course so hidden, that one could ride by them at the distance of
a few minutes, and not observe them; perhaps, too, the mats were set up
in another place. Thus we were lost in the wide burning desert without a
guide, gnawed with hunger, and parched with thirst, and, as far as man
could see, quite abandoned to chance. In silence we journeyed on, each
occupied with his own thoughts, in the glowing noon heat, when
suddenly--the moment will never be forgotten by me!--two men came forth
from behind the rock. They rushed to us, embraced our knees, offered us
water from their jugs, and kept continually repeating expressions of joy
and greetings, with the greatest delight.

“El hamdu l’illah”--Praised be God! resounded on all sides. We were
saved!

Our caravan, whence the two Arabs came, had as usual followed our track,
and therefore like ourselves had lost their way, but Ibrahim Aga, soon
perceiving our confusion, halted sooner, had fires, lighted in the night
on all the hills, with difficulty gathered fuel, and had almost used up
the powder. But the wind set the opposite way, and we heard none of the
signals of our distressed comrades. Next morning they had proceeded, and
by dint of the wonderful memory of Sheikh Selâm, who had once been here
five-and-twenty years ago, had got on the right way to the well. Yet
Ibrahim Aga encamped at an hour’s distance from it, as every trace of us
was lost, and sent in great trouble concerning our fate, Arab patrols
into the mountains to find us.

How strange it was, that we should enter the great valley just in time
to meet such a post! As we had come into the side valley over the
mountain, no trace of our animals--who, of course, besides this could
not be tracked on the stones--could lead into it; had we therefore
started a few minutes later, they would certainly have passed before we
were in sight, and had we come down the valley earlier, we should have
turned to the right towards the huts, and gone away from the caravan far
to the left.

About two o’clock, we arrived in the camp, which we entered amid shouts
of joy from all present. The greatest astonishment was expressed at not
finding Selîm with us; he was given up by every one. I did not, however,
allow the camp to be broken up, but had the camels led to the well
alone. The Arabs were again sent into the mountains to search for Selîm,
and I remained quietly in my tent for the rest of the day.

Towards evening some Arabs returned from the well, and with them, loaded
on a camel, Selîm. They had found him lying speechless, with open mouth,
and his body swollen from intemperate draughts of water, by the edge of
the well. How he had come thither, we did not immediately learn, as he
answered to none of our questions. He must, however, have found his way
by chance out of the mountains, or by the wonderful innate power of
tracing the way peculiar to the Arab. Now he was probably speechless
more by the fear of the serious consequences of the miserable trick he
had played us. When he perceived that we regarded him with some pity, he
soon recovered. But I did not keep him about me any more; for the
remainder of the journey I took the old trustworthy Sheikh Selâm, as a
guide for our advanced party, and left the other with the caravan.

Gebel Dochân, the Porphyry mountain, which had been our actual reason
for coming this way, and had caused the whole undertaking, was, however,
found to be far behind us. We had, as I had suspected, notwithstanding
Selîm’s assurances to the contrary, ridden by its foot for several
hours, as we erroneously thought the well was near it. None of the
caravan had seen the old quarries, and the remains of the ancient
colony. Notwithstanding this, I determined to make a second attempt on
the ensuing day; and in this I succeeded.

With the dawn, I set forth with Max, the Sheikh Selâm, and a young
sturdy Arab. The huts had not been observed by the caravan, and lay much
too far to the east for us. We therefore rode straight for the highest
peak of the Dochân group. Chance decreed that we should, when in the
vicinity of the ruins, meet an Abdi from those huts with some camels,
for which he was seeking a grazing-place. With his assistance we arrived
at our destination.

We first found the great mouth of a well, built up of rude stones,
measuring twelve feet in diameter, but it was now ruined and filled up.
On the western side, were five pillars of a hall, seemingly covered at
an earlier period, a sixth was destroyed. Three hundred paces further up
the valley, on a granite rock, projecting from the left side, a temple
was built, but which was now in ruins. The walls had been piled upon
rude stones, but the finer architectural portions well chiselled out of
red granite. A stair of twenty steps led from the north, on the paved
court, surrounded by a wall, in the centre of which a rude altar of
granite stood. Four cells adjoined this court on the left, the most
southern of which, however, had now partially fallen down, together with
the rock foundation; to this, as there was space on the rock, a still
smaller chamber had been added, in which a larger, but also uninscribed
altar stood. Before these spaces in the middle of the court, there
stood, at an elevation of some feet, and grounded with sharp blocks of
granite, an Ionian portico, consisting of four monolithic pillars,
slender and swelling, the bases and capitals of which, together with the
cornice and architrave, lay around in pieces. The long dedicatory
inscription informed us that the temple was dedicated, in the time of
the Emperor Hadrian, to Zeus Helios Sarapis, by the Eparch Rammius
Martialis. To the left of the wall, the ruins of the town lie on an
eminence. It was four-cornered, and, as usual, defended by towers. In
the middle there was again a well, the principal requirement of every
station, built of burnt brick, and stuccoed. Eight rude thin granite
pillars formed the entrance to the well.

An old steep roadway leads up the adjacent mountains, and conducts to
the porphyry quarries, which, hard under the top of the mountain, gave
the beautiful dark red porphyry in which so many of the monuments of the
Imperial time were hewn. Its broad veins lay between another blue-white
sprinkled, and an almost brick-red stone, and were worked to a
considerable depth. We found five or six quarries by each other, the
largest forty square paces in extent. I could nowhere find chisel holes
for splitting; for the blue-stone lying next to the quarry, rubbed
almost as fine as sand, seemed to indicate the employment of fire. By
the town, too, I found considerable heaps of ashes.

From the quarries I climbed to the height of the mountain, which gave a
splendid view of the neighbouring mountains, in the steeply-descending,
first hilly, and then sandy plain, towards the sea, and beyond the blue
mirror to the opposite high chain of Tôr, After taking a number of
observations I descended, and was back in our camp near the Moie
Messâid, after sunset.

On the 19th of March we crossed the plain to the Enned Mountains,
running along the seacoast, and passing them by a cross valley. A rich
fountain was here, the running water of which accompanied us for a long
distance. I should take it to be the _Fons Tadmos_ of Pliny, as its
water has only become salt and undrinkable by the natron layer of the
surface. The ruins of Abu Shâr, the ancient _Myos hormos_, or
_Philoteras portus_, we left to the right, and encamped on the peninsula
of Gimsheh, called by the Arabs Kibrît, from the quantity of sulphur
which is found there.

Yesterday morning we rode between the Enned Mountains and the sea-shore
to the Gulf of Gebel Zeït. The ridges of Tôr, which floated milky-blue
upon the watered mirror before sunrise, contrasted delicately with the
heavens; first with the rising sun were its outlines lost.

After dinner we arrived at Gebel Zeït, “the oil mountain.” Our ships,
sent for from Kossêr, had made the passage in six days, and already
awaited our arrival four days. The camels were dismissed here, and went
back the same evening.

A quarter north of our anchorage lay the Zeïtieh; so are the five or six
pits called which are excavated in the shore-sand or rock, and are
filled with black-brown syrup-like earth oil. Some years ago
investigations were commenced here by Em Bey, who hoped to find coals in
the depths, without however, up to this time, arriving at such a result.

Last evening was calm. In the first night there arose a slight wind from
the north, which we immediately used for departure. With a favourable
wind we might have made the passage in a single night; but now the day
is again closing, and the haven is not yet reached. The long oars, too,
which are now brought into employment, scarcely bring the loaded vessel
on.

The sailors of the sea are very different from those of the Nile. Their
manner is far more equable, less false and less creeping. Their songs,
beginning with the first stroke of the oar, consists of short broken
lines, given out one by one and taken up by others, while the rest make
short tones at equal intervals. The rais, on a higher seat, also rows.
He is a negro, like several others among the sailors, but one of the
handsomest and most powerful blacks that I have ever seen--a real
Othello, when, with his athletic movements, he rolls his yellow-white
eyes, shows his gleaming white teeth, and commences the song with a
piercing, yelling, but practised voice, leading it for some time.

LETTER XXXII.

CONVENT OF SINAI.
_Easter Monday, March 24, 1845._

We landed on Good Friday evening, by moonlight, at Tôr. The harbour is
so full of sand, that our vessel was obliged to remain some hundred
paces from the shore. A skiff took us to land. Here we were received by
the old Greek, Nikola Janni, who had formerly also received Ehrenberg,
Léon de Laborde, Rüppell, Isenberg, and other well-known travellers, and
who had favourable testimonials to show of his conduct towards them.
After a long bargaining with the insolent Arabs, who, as soon as they
perceived our haste and impatience, sought every means to take advantage
of us, we set off, with as few necessaries as possible, for the land
journey, early the day before yesterday from Tôr, and let the ship go on
to Cape Abu Zelîmeh to await us there.

Our road led in a direct northern direction through the plain El Ge’âh,
which is about five or six hours wide, between the sea and the
mountains, at the mouth of the Wadi Hebrân. But I made an excursion on
the road to the warm wells of Gebel Hammân. These lie at the southern
end of the isolated chain of mountains, which, beginning at Tôr, run an
hour’s distance to the sea-shore. I met the caravan again by the
fountain El Hai, which is pleasantly situated amongst palm-gardens on
the road. The land rises gradually from the sea-shore till behind these
wells. As soon as we had gained a complete view of the whole plain, and
the summit of the high mountain which runs down in a steep and regularly
descending chain to the end of the peninsula, I took the bearings of all
the most remarkable points, entrances of valleys, and mountain-tops,
which the guides were able to name. About half-past five, I arrived at
the foot of the mountain. Here already at the entrance of the valley I
remarked on the black blocks the first Sinaïtic inscriptions. A little
further we came to a streamlet shaded by a few palms, where we encamped
for the night.

Yesterday we went through the Wadi Hebrán, which divides the Serbâl
group from the chain of mountains of Gebel Mûsa, crossed the Nakb el
Eg’âui, which forms a division between east and west, and here turning
to the south over Nakb el Haui (the wind-saddle) we reached the convent
by sunset on Easter Sunday. We were, as all travellers are, drawn up to
the entrance in the high fortress-wall, although there is another even
with the ground through the cloister garden, which however is never used
but from inside. The worthy old prior of whom Robinson writes, died in
the same year at Cairo, and has been replaced by another, Demetrios
Nicodemos, who has the rank of a bishop. As this convent is a Greek one,
instead of arriving during the Easter festival, we came during the
strict fast. But, notwithstanding this, the lives and ways of the four
priests and the

[Illustration: Inscriptions on the north wall of the Convent of Mount
Sinai.]

twenty-one lay brothers do not make such an edifying impression as we
had hoped. A dismal spirit of wearied indolence and ignorance lies like
a heavy cloud on their discontented countenances. And yet these
fugitives from a world of care, living under an ever cheerful, temperate
climate, can alone of all the inhabitants of these arid deserts stay
under the dark shade of cypresses, palms, and olive trees, besides
having the care of a library of 1,500 volumes, without in the least
degree thinking of its most beautiful destination as an ἰατρεῖον ψυχῆς.

We have to-day been up Gebel Mûsa. It formed, in my opinion, and also
according to the description of former travellers, the centre of the
whole chain of mountains. This, however, is not the case. It belongs
rather, as well by the planimetrical extent of the primitive rock, as by
its elevation, to the north-east descent. The convent lies at an exact
distance, _three times nearer_ to the east than the west side of the
mountain. Gebel Katherine, which lies next to it on the south, is higher
than the almost hidden summit of Gebel Mûsa, which is invisible to the
whole neighbourhood. Beyond Mount Katherine there arise, by degrees,
higher and higher mountains,--Um Riglên, Abu Shégere, Qettâr, &c., as
far as Um Shôman, which towers above all, and lies in the centre between
the east and west slopes of the total elevation, and forms the north
crown to the long ridge running south along the whole peninsula. The
whole way up Gebel Mûsa, with the many points to which there are saintly
legends attached, was a walk through nature in its wildest and most
magnificent state, just as in our country one is led through an
historical, ruined castle, where the private rooms, study, &c., of some
great king are pointed out.

After our return from Gebel Mûsa, we went up the brow of the mountain
called Hôreb, which Robinson considers to be the true Mount Sinai,
instead of Gebel Mûsa, which has been till now supposed to be so. We
passed many hermitages and chapels till we came to the last, situated in
a hollow in the rocks, behind which the principal summit of Hôreb rises,
rugged and grand. No footway leads up to it. We scrambled first through
a steep cleft in the rock, then over the southern brow of the rock
itself. At half-past five we were up just over the great plain Râha,
upon the majestic, rounded mountain-top, which stands out so boldly from
the plain. Robinson appears first to have tried this way, and then to
have given it up, and to have ascended to the top of Sefsâf, which is
certainly higher, but lies rather to the west, and does not stand out as
the summit we climbed, which forms an exact centre to the plain.[106]
Our guides all remained behind, excepting an Arab boy, as the ascension
was almost dangerous. Even this situation did not prevent the thought
from rising, as to whether Moses had ever stood upon any of these
mountains which are visible from the plain, if we receive the account
literally. We did not ascend Gebel Katherine, as it has less to do with
history than Gebel Mûsa.

LETTER XXXIII.

ON THE RED SEA.
_April 6, 1845._

I shall employ the time of our quiet seavoyage, which will take some
days, in arranging the manifold materials collected on the peninsula,
and to mark down the principal events of our journey. I will send a more
copious account from Thebes.[107] These lines, however, will be given to
Seid Hussen, at Qeneh, and be forwarded by the first opportunity.

We left the convent on the 25th of March toward evening, and went down
the broad Wadi e’ Shech. I chose this roundabout way, because formerly
(before the wild defile, Nakb el Haui, was rendered passable) this was
the only way the Israelites could go when they wanted to reach the
plain of Râha.[108] We remained during the night in the upper part of
the valley, near the tomb of the holy Shech Sâlih, after whom the valley
takes the name Wadi e’ Shech. In the lower part of the valley begins the
manna-rich tarfa-bushes and gradually the Sinaitic inscriptions become
more numerous. Before, however, we reached the end of the valley we
quitted it, and turned to the left into the Wadi Selâf, which unites
further down with the Wadi e’ Shech, in order to reach the foot of
Serbâl by the shortest road. This immense height, towering over the
mountainous landscape, we had often seen in our road when we had a clear
view; and the accounts the Arabs gave of the fertile and well-watered
Wadi Firân at its foot had made me desirous to make a nearer
acquaintance. I had determined to ascend the mountain, and for this
reason turned into the Wadi Rim, which runs into Wadi Selâf, into which
Serbâl descends. When we had ridden a little way up this valley, we came
to an old stone hut, which must have been inhabited by a hermit. Soon
after, we found some Arab tents, and at a little distance several
sittera-trees, which we chose as a resting-place.

On the 27th of March we rose early to ascend the mountain. The only way
to Serbâl, Derb e’Serbâl, leads from the Wadi Firân through Wadi Aleyât
up the mountain. We were obliged to go round to the south-east end of
the mountain, in order to mount it behind on the south; as it would have
been far beyond our strength to have climbed up through the ridge cleft,
which falls steep, and in a direct line between the two eastern summits.
A quarter-hour from our resting place we came to a well, shaded by
_nebek hamâda_ and palms, whose fresh and pure waters were walled in for
a depth of some feet. We then went over a little mountain ridge, upon
which stood several stone huts, into another branch of the valley of Rim
(Rim el Mehâsni), and reached in an hour and a-half the south-east
corner of the mountain. From hence we followed a beaten path, which
sometimes was even paved. This led us to an artificial terrace, and a
wall, which appeared to be the ruins of a fallen house, and to a cool
well, shaded by high rushes, a palm, and several _jassur_ (of which
Moses’s staves were cut); the whole mountain being covered with _habak_
and other sweet-scented herbs. Some minutes further we came to several
rock caverns, which must once have served as hermits’ cells; and after
four hours’ further journeying, we arrived at a small plain, which lay
between the heights, upon which we found another house with two rooms. A
way led from this level to the edge of the west side of the mountain,
which at first steep and rugged, then in soft broad slopes, sinks to the
sandy plain el Ge’ah. It opened to me here a glorious prospect over the
sea to the opposite coast, and the Egyptian mountains which bound it.
From here the mountain path suddenly sank by the rugged precipice into a
wild deep mountain hollow, around which the five summits of Serbâl unite
in a half circle, and form a towering crown. In the middle of this
hollow, called Wadi Si’qelji, lie the ruins of an old convent, to which
the mountain path leads, but which unfortunately we could not visit for
want of time.[109]

I then went back across the level, and began first to ascend the
southern Serbâl summit. When I had nearly reached the steep height, I
thought that the second summit appeared to be somewhat higher. I hurried
down again to seek a road to this. We passed a small water-fall, and
were obliged to go almost all round the hollow before we succeeded in
ascending the north-east side. Here, to my astonishment, I found between
the two points into which the summit is split, a fruitful little plain,
well covered with bushes and herbs, from which I first ascended one
point and then the other, and with the assistance of my experienced
guides, and the compass, I took the bearings of all the principal
points which could be seen around. I could distinguish quite plainly
that beyond Gebel Mûsa the mountains rose higher and higher, and that
the distant Um Shômar towered over all. We did not begin to return till
towards four o’clock. The long round by which we mounted we were obliged
to avoid on our return, in order not to be in the dark. We determined,
therefore, to make our way down the steep rock cleft, which led in a
straight line to our camp in the Wadi Rim, and like the chamois to
spring from block to block; and we got down this impassable road, (the
most difficult and fatiguing that I ever went in my whole life,) in
about two hours and a-half with trembling knees to our tent.

On the following day we went on farther, and reached, through the Wadi
Selâf and the lower end of the Wadi e’Shech, the Wadi Firân, this most
precious jewel of the peninsula, with its palms and tarfa woods, by the
side of a lovely bubbling stream, which flows on, winding through bushes
and flowers, as far as the old convent-mountains of the city of Pharan,
the present Firân. Everything that we had seen, till then, and that we
afterwards saw on our way, was a naked stony desert, in comparison with
this fruitful well-wooded and well-watered oasis. For the first time
since we left the valley of the Nile, did we tread again on the soft
black earth, obliged to put out of our way the overhanging bushy
branches with our arms, and did we hear the singing birds twittering in
the foliage. There where the broad Wadi Aleyât descends from Serbâl
into the Wadi Firân, and widens the valley into a wide level, rises the
rocky hill Hererât, on the top of which lie the ruins of an old convent.
At the foot of this hill stood once a stately church, built of well-hewn
sand-stone blocks, the remains of which have been used in building the
city lying on the opposite slope.

I went the same evening up the Wadi Aleyât, and passed innumerable rock
inscriptions, till I came to a spring surrounded by palms and _nebek_,
from whence I enjoyed the full view of the majestic mountain chain.
Distinguished from all the other mountains, and united in one mass,
rises the Serbâl, first in a gentle slope, and then in steep rugged
precipices, to a height of 6,000 feet above the sea. Incomparable was
the view, when the valleys and lower mountains around were already
wrapped in the shades of night, and the summit of the mountain, still
above the colourless grey, rose like a fiery cloud, glowing in the
setting sun. The next morning I repeated my visit to Wadi Aleyât, and
finished the plan of this remarkable district, the land points of which
I had already laid out from the top of the Serbâl.

The most fertile part of Wadi Firân is enclosed between two hills, which
rise from the middle of the level in the valley; of these, the upper one
is called El Buêb, the lower one at the end of the Wadi Aleyât, Meharret
or Hererât. In olden times, it appears that this valley must have been
enclosed, and the rushing water which flowed from all sides, even from
Gebel Mûsa, into this hollow, uniting, must have formed a lake. Such a
supposition alone appears to account for the extraordinary deposit of
earth, which here to a height of from eighty to a hundred feet, lies
along the valley walls; and it is, without doubt, this singular
situation of Firân, as the lowest point of a large mountainous tract,
which causes the uncommon wealth of waters which is now met with.
Immediately behind the convent hill, we found the narrow valley bed as
stony and barren as the higher valleys, although the stream flowed on
for another half-hour by our side. The powerful rush of the water here
admitted no more earthy deposit. Not till the next large turning of the
valley, called El Héssue, did we see any palms. Here the stream
disappeared in a cleft in the rock, and the more suddenly, as it had
broken out behind the Buêb, and we saw no more of it. After five hours’
journey, we left the valley of Firân, which here turns to the left
towards the sea, and we went out of the mountains into a flat sandstone
country. The high mountains turned next back towards the north, and
enclosed in a great bow the hilly, sandy landscape which we crossed. We
came to the Wadi Mokatteb, the “written valley,” which takes its name
from the inscriptions which are found here in many places.

It is easily seen that it is those rocks, shaded from the noonday sun,
which invited the travellers passing to Firân to engrave their names and
short maxims upon the soft stone. We took impressions in paper of all
the inscriptions that we could reach, or copied with the pen such as
were not suited for impression. We found these inscriptions singly, at
the most various, and often very far distant places in the peninsula;
and, on the whole, had no doubt that they had been engraven by the
inhabitants of the land in the first centuries before and after Christ.
Occasionally I found them graven over older Greek names, and Christian
crosses are not unfrequently combined in them. These inscriptions are
usually called Sinaitic, and not unaptly, if the whole of the peninsula
of Sinai is so meant as the place where they are found. But it is worthy
of remark that at Gebel Mûsa, which is generally considered to be Mount
Sinai, there are but a few single and short inscriptions of this kind,
in the same manner, as by a careful survey they might be found in any of
these places; but their actual centre was rather Pharan, at the foot of
Serbâl.[110]

On the 31st of March we again reached the mountains turning eastward,
and entered by Wadi Qeneh, the little branching Wadi Maghâra, in which
sandstone and primary stone bound each other. Here we found, high upon
the northern cliff, the remarkable Egyptian rock-steles belonging to the
earliest monuments of Egyptian antiquity with which we are
acquainted.[111] Already, under the fourth dynasty of Manetho, the same
which erected the great pyramids of Gizeh, 4,000 B.C., copper mines had
been discovered in this desert, which were worked by a colony. The
peninsula was then already inhabited by Asiatic, probably Semetic races;
therefore do we often see in those rock sculptures, the triumphs of
Pharaoh over the enemies of Egypt. Almost all the inscriptions belong to
the Old Empire; only one was found of the co-regency of King Tuthmosis
III. and his sister.

I wished to get from hence by the shortest way to the second place on
the peninsula Sarbut el Châdem. But there was no direct road over the
high mountains to the descent on the north-east side. So we were obliged
to return to Wadi Mokatteb, and going a long way round to the south-east
through Wadi Sittere and Wadi Sîch, to avoid the mountain. When we came
out of the valley, we had before us the wide-spreading plain, which
includes the whole northern part of the peninsula, and which consists
entirely of sandstone. This falls, however, towards the south, into a
double descent, so that the view appears, at a great distance, to be
bounded by two lofty mountain walls, of the same height. The next
southern descent, called E’ Tîh, leads down to a wide sandy
valley-plain, Debbet e’ Ramleh, while the near side of the sandstone
rocks appears to reach the height of the immense plain.

Upon one of the projecting terraces in this broad valley, which we had
to climb with great fatigue, lie the monuments of Sarbut el Châdem,
most astonishing even to one prepared for the sight of them. The most
ancient representation here carried us back into the Old Empire, but
only into the last dynasty of the same, the twelfth of Manetho. At this
time, under Amenemhra III. there was a little grotto hewn out of the
rock, and furnished with an ante-chamber. Outside it high steles were
erected at different distances without any particular order, the most
distant of which was about a quarter of an hour away on the highest
point of the _plateau_. Under the New Empire, Tuthmosis III. had
enlarged the building towards the west, and added a small pylon, and an
outer court. The later kings built a long row of rooms in the same
direction, one before the other, occasionally, as it appears, for the
purpose of preserving the steles within from the weather; particularly
from the sharp, and often sand-filled winds, which had all through eaten
up the ancient undefended steles. The youngest stele bears the
cartouches of the last king of the nineteenth dynasty. Since that time,
or soon after, the place was deserted by the Egyptians.

The divinity who was mostly revered here in the New Empire, was
Hathor,[112] with the designation, also found in Wadi Maghâra, “Mistress
of Mafkat,” _i.e._, “the copper country;” for _mafka_, signified
“copper,” in the hieroglyphical, as well as in the Koptic language.
Therefore, no doubt copper was also obtained here. This was confirmed by
a peculiar appearance, which strangely enough has not been observed by
any earlier travellers. East and west of the temple are to be seen great
slag-hills, which, from their black colour, form a strange contrast to
the soil of the neighbourhood. These artificial mounds, the principal of
which is 256 paces long, and from 60 to 120 paces broad, situated on the
tongue of the terrace projecting into the valley, are covered with a
massive crest of slag from four to five feet thick, and thence to their
feet from twelve to fifteen feet, sprinkled with single blocks of the
same material. The land shows that the mines could not have been in the
immediate neighbourhood, but the old and still visible paths which lead
into the mountain no doubt point them out. Unfortunately we had not time
for it. It seems, therefore, that this free point was chosen only for
smelting, on account of the sharp, and as the Arabs assure us, almost
incessant draught of air.

On the 3rd of April we rode further, and visited the Wadi Nasb, in which
we also found traces of ancient smelting-places; and the following day
towards evening, we reached our ship, which had been waiting for us in
the harbour of Abu Zelimeh for several days.

Here we found to our great astonishment, four German apprentices, among
them two Prussian Schlesians from the vicinity of Neisse. They had come
from Cairo, in order to visit Mount Sinai; they had arrived happily as
far as Suez, and there had waited in vain for a ship, and at last, like
real modern crusaders, had set off alone on the road, in order to carry
out their bold purpose. They had been assured, doubtless not in good
German, that the way was short, and not to be mistaken, and that there
was no want of water. In this good belief, their pilgrim-flasks filled
to the brim, they set off into the desert; but the footsteps of the
children of Israel were obliterated, and no pillar of a cloud went on
before them. On the third day they had lost their way, their bread was
gone, they had missed the wells, they had been several times stopped by
Arabs, and only not robbed, because they possessed nothing worth
stealing; and they would certainly have perished in the waste, if they
had not from the mountains, at some hours’ distance, perceived our ship
lying by the strand, and fortunately reached it before our arrival. Upon
my inquiry as to the trade which they had intended to bring to
perfection by this journey into the East, and if they expected to find
employment among the monks on Mount Sinai, as they had brought no money
with them, I was informed, that one was a carpenter, who hoped to make
himself very useful there; unfortunately I was obliged to tell him that
he would have to cope with a lay brother; another was a shoemaker, the
third was a stocking-weaver, and the fourth owned, after some
hesitation, that he was a woman’s tailor. Nothing else could be done but
to take these extraordinary people in the ship with us, although the
sailors looked at them ascantly, on account of the want of water. I had
them set on shore at Tôr, and took care that they should be accompanied
from thence to the convent.

Besides occupying myself with the wonderful Egyptian monuments of this
land of copper, and the so-named Sinaitic inscriptions, I busied myself
with examining the geographical questions relating to the sojourn of the
Israelites on the peninsula. I think I have obtained, with reference to
these occurrences, a result, which, although it differs in essential
points from the general acceptation, if I have judged rightly, will form
an important feature in the historical and geographical events of the
Old Testament.[113] I will here merely briefly mention a few of the
principal points, and will write more fully from Thebes.

It appeared very doubtful to me when I was in the convent at Gebel
Mûsa,[114] whether it was the holy mountain on which the Commandments
were given or not. Since I have seen Serbâl, and Wadi Firân, at its
foot, and a great part of the rest of the country, I feel quite
convinced that we must recognise Sinai in Mount Serbâl.

The present monkish tradition has no worth in an impartial research.
This every one must know, who has occupied himself seriously with such
things. If, even in Jerusalem they are, for the most part, not of the
slightest value, unless they be supported from the original source, how
much less are they worth on the Sinai peninsula, where they relate to
questions much more distant, both as to time and place! During the long
space of time between the giving the Commandments and the first
Christian centuries, Sinai is only once mentioned in a later historical
occurrence, as the “Mountain of God, Horeb,” upon which Elias appeared.
It would indeed be extremely wonderful, if during this lapse of time the
tradition had not been interrupted, and if also during that time the
population had so changed on the peninsula, that we cannot point out a
single place mentioned in the Old Testament with any certainty, and even
the Greeks and the Romans were not acquainted with these old
designations.[115] We must therefore return to the Mosaic accounts, in
order to prove the truth of the present acceptation.

To this we must also add, that the general relative geographical
position of the localities of the peninsula have not essentially altered
since the time of Moses. They who take refuge in a contrary opinion, may
undoubtedly prove everything, and for that very reason they prove
nothing. It is therefore very important to keep the historical relations
of the different periods before our eyes, because these were certainly
likely to cause changes in different places.

Hence it cannot be denied, that the fertile and well-watered Wadi Firân,
at all times, and therefore also at the time of Moses, was the most
important, and most frequented centre of the whole peninsula, by reason
of its unparalleled fertility, and of its inexhaustible bubbling
fountains. That this wonderful oasis was then, as now, in the middle of
the eternally naked desert, the whole character of the land proves. On
the other side it is not less true, that the environs of the present
convent on Gebel Mûsa were formerly, (notwithstanding the spare
streamlets, which there spring from the earth, but only moisten the
neighbouring soil), just as barren as all the other parts of that
mountain waste; that the draw-wells[116] dugout of the rocks at first
supplied water sufficient for the use of the inhabitants of the convent;
and that an artificial irrigation of more than a thousand years’
duration, with the most careful employment of every means of culture,
rendered possible the small plantations now found there.[117] In olden
times there was not the slightest reason for rendering this desert
habitable by art, so much the rather as it lay apart from all the
connecting roads of the peninsula, and formed a true mountain hollow,
to which there was only one entrance, through the Wadi e’ Shech. ^

In contra-distinction to this, there is one point of the peninsula,
which, long before Moses, and also during his time, was of great
consequence, but now it is no longer so. This is the harbour of Abu
Zelîmeh. Here roads led from the three different mines, which are yet
known to us, Wadi Maghâra, Sarbut el Châdem, and Wadi Nasb. No
landing-place lay more conveniently for the union of Egypt with these
colonies; it was, according to the account of our sailors, the best
harbour on the whole coast, not even excepting Tôr. Here also the
Egyptians must have taken much pains in making a plentiful supply of
water. As neither the sandy sea-coast, nor the valleys leading to it
afforded any, so they had, without doubt, dug wells at the next place
which promised water beneath the ground. Such a place was found at the
lower entrance of the Wadi Shebêkeh (with others Taibeh, where there
still stand a number of palms, and many other trees, and consequently
the ground is damp, although there is no well to be found).[118] This
would therefore be the most proper place to dig for water, and make a
well. Now there is no difference of opinion that near Abu Zelîmeh the
encampment by the Red Sea was made, which is mentioned in the fourth
Book of Moses as behind Elim. In the second Book this account is
omitted, and only the twelve wells and seventy palm-trees named. How
natural, indeed unavoidable, then, is the conclusion, that this well and
palms of Elim, towards which the harbour of Abu Zelîmeh led, perhaps
about an hour’s distance from the valley, and for this reason, in the
account of the encampment of Elim by the sea, given in the second Book,
from the watering-place of apparently the same name. According to the
present, and also according to Robinson’s acceptation, the twelve wells
of Elim were situated in Wadi Gharandel, according to the latest
reckoning,[119] from eight to nine hours--a long day’s journey distant
from the harbour, thus for the supply of this important place, quite
useless. It is not easy to perceive what, in Wadi Gharandel, where
still, at this present time, the brackish water of the whole district is
somewhat more plentiful than elsewhere, could exactly have suggested the
plan of these twelve wells. To this must be added that it is necessary
to put the next preceding station, Mara, to an inconsiderable well, only
an hour and a half or two hours from Wadi Gharandel, while the next
station is considered to be eight hours distant. It appears to me not to
be doubted, that the first three journeys into the desert led to Wadi
Gharandel, that is Mara; the fourth to the harbour station, Abu Zelîmeh,
_i. e._ Elim.

Now first, would the continuation be understandable? “And they set forth
from Elim and came into the desert of Sin, _which lies between Elim and
Sinai_.” At Wadi Gharandel also, the boundaries of two districts were as
geographically incomprehensible as they are natural at Abu Zelîmeh. The
harbour, with its small commodious plain, between Nochol-rock and Gebel
Hammâm Faraûn,[120] forms with these two prominent mountains really the
most important geographical portion of the whole coast. The northern
high plain, regularly sloping towards the sea, was called the desert of
Sûr; the southern, rising higher, and soon losing itself in the mountain
lands of the primitive rocks, is called the desert of Sin. The remark,
that the latter lay between Elim and Sinai, would have no sense, if it
were not also said that the desert of Sin extends itself to Sinai, or
further. The next departure, then, from the desert of Sin to Raphidîm,
must not be understood that they had left the desert; on the contrary,
they remained in it till they came to Sinai, whose name “Sini,” that is
“the Mountain of Sin,” plainly derived its name from the district, and
on this account could not be visited without the other. This also is
confirmed by the account of the manna, which was given to the Israelites
in the desert of Sin; for this is first found in the valleys near Firân,
and grows as little about the sandy sea coasts as it does in the higher
regions of Gebel Mûsa.[121]

Let us place here the preliminary question, which of the two mountains,
Serbâl or Gebel Mûsa, was so situated as to be especially pointed out as
Sini, the “Sinaïtic mountain of the desert of Sin;”--the answer cannot
for a moment be doubted. Gebel Mûsa, which is scarcely visible from any
side, and is almost hidden and “secret,”[122] neither from its height,
nor its form, situation, or any other distinction, presented anything
that could have caused either the native races or the Egyptian hermits
to point it out as the “mountain of Sin;” whilst Serbâl, which attracts
the eye from all sides and from a great distance, which dominates over
the whole of the primary rocks, not only by its outward appearance, but
also on account of Wadi Firân situated at its foot, ever the
centre-point for the wide straggling inhabitants of the country, and the
goal of all travellers, may claim the designation of the “mountain of
Sin.” If, however, any one would wish to conclude from the departure
from the desert of Sin to Raphidîm, that only the broad coast south of
Abu Zelîmeh, which the Israelites must have passed, was called the
desert of Sin, (which is the opinion of Robinson,[123]); still Serbâl,
which adjoins and commands this district, and from here is accessible
over the ancient convent of Si’gelji, would claim the designation as the
mountain of Sin from the boatmen of the Red Sea; while Gebel Mûsa, which
lies directly on the opposite eastern side of the great chain of
mountains, could not possibly have taken the name of Sin from the
western desert of that name, nor can it offer a suggestion for such a
statement, as that the desert of Sin lies between Abu Zelîmeh and Gebel
Mûsa. It is also reasonable to believe, that the whole of the primitive
rocks, (that is, the whole of the peninsula south of Abu Zelîmeh), was
called the “desert of Sin,” and consequently that Gebel Mûsa was
included in it. This even does not necessarily exclude the belief that
Serbâl, as the best known, the nearest, and as a much more important
mountain to the Egyptian colonists than the southern mountains could be,
would not have been distinguished by that name; whilst in the southern
principal chain not even Um Shômar as the highest centre-point,--not the
completely subordinate Gebel Mûsa,--still less the isolated rock Sefsâf,
which Robinson considers the one, would have had such a distinguished
designation.

All that has been said here relative to Sinai as the “mountain of the
desert of Sin,” may now be applied to the further question, as to which
of the two mountains, Serbâl and Gebel Mûsa, possessed such properties
that it should already, before the great event of the giving the
Commandments, have been regarded as a “holy mountain,” as a “mountain of
God,” by the native races of the peninsula.[124] For Moses already drove
the sheep of Jethro behind the desert from Midian, to the “mountain of
God in Choreb;” and Aaron came to meet him on his return from Egypt to
the “mountain of God.” If we hold to the belief that the necessary
centre of the Sinaïtic population at that time was the Oasis Firân, so
does there appear every probability that that race had founded a
sanctuary, a universal place of worship in the neighbourhood, at the
foot, or much more naturally at the summit, of the mountain which rose
from that valley.[125] Moreover, this was the particular spot fixed for
that meeting of Moses, who came out of Midian, and Aaron, who came out
of Egypt. There was no occasion, in so desert and unpopulated a country,
to seek out for any particularly private and remote mountain-corner for
such a meeting.

From this it appears that the Sinaïtic inscriptions, which as has been
already said, are principally to be found on the way to Wadi Firân, and
in the Wadi Aleyât leading up to Serbâl, seem to point out that in much
later times, long pilgrimages, to celebrate religious festivals, must
have been undertaken to this place.[126]

Let us now turn immediately to the principal point, which, for those who
keep the general circumstances of the passage of the Israelites before
them, must be the most conclusive. It is not to be denied that when
Moses determined to lead this great multitude into the peninsula, the
first problem he had to solve by his wisdom and knowledge of the land,
was the means of supporting them. For at whatever number we may reckon
the wanderers, who, according to Robinson, amounted to two millions,
(which, according to Lane, is the present population of all Egypt,) they
were most undoubtedly an immense multitude, who suddenly and without any
provision of food, were to be sustained in the desert. How is it then
possible to suppose, that Moses would not have immediately fixed upon
the most fertile, best watered, and shortest road, instead of a distant
mountain-corner, which would have been impossible even for (I mention a
large number purposely) 2,000 wanderers, with what belonged to them, to
provide with food and water. Moses would have done wrong to have
depended on miracles from God, as these happen only when human wisdom
and human thought are at an end.

On reflection upon this undeniable proof against the hitherto supposed
situation of Sinai, it appears to me that the idea will be changed, and
that every close historical examination of these wonderful events must
destroy it, even if grounds should also be brought forward against our
acceptation of it. We will now continue the narrative. From Elim Moses
reached Raphidîm in three days’ journey. The new school are generally
agreed that the caravan from Abu Zelîmeh did not again return to the
eastern sand-plain E’Raml, through the same Wadi Shebêkeh, or Saibeh, by
which they descended, but took the usual caravan road which leads to
Wadi Firân. How then would Moses have chosen the dry and much longer
upper way, or even the great and still more dry round-about way along
the sea-coast, by Tôr and Wadi Hebrân, instead of immediately turning
into the valleys of the primitive rocks, both less dry, and rich with
manna.

He must also come to Wadi Firân--no third way was possible. This is the
cogent reason why (with the exception of Robinson)[127] almost all
without a dissentient voice, have placed Raphidîm after Firân. It seems
impossible that this oasis, if it had been traversed, should not once
have been named. Already Josephus,[128] Eusebius, Jerome,[129] and, as
it appears, every other author and traveller[130] place Raphidîm after
the city Pharan. No spot in the whole country could have been of so much
value, as these fruitful gardens of Pharan, to the native races,
threatened by Moses. It is then very easy to be conceived that Moses,
just here in Raphidîm, should have been attacked by the Amalekites, who
would lose their most valuable possessions. He drove them back, and
then only could Moses say that he had possession of the peninsula. His
first goal was attained. What could tempt him to go further?

It is also written in plain words, that the people were arrived at the
Mountain of God, the Mountain of the Law. As it says, that after the
victory near Raphidîm, Jethro, Moses’s father-in-law, heard of all that
had happened. “And then came Jethro, and Moses’s sons, and his wife to
Moses in the desert, where he was encamped at the Mountain of God;” and
also the Lord had already spoken to Moses, “See I will stand before you
upon a rock in Choreb, and you shall strike the rock, and water shall
flow forth, that the people may drink;” words which could only refer to
the wonderful fountain of Firân, as it has long since appeared to
me.[131] That Moses really encamped here in Raphidîm, is further proved,
as he now, by the advice of Jethro, organised the till now disorderly
multitude, in order to be able to govern it.[132] He chose the most able
men and set them over thousands, over hundreds, over fifties, and over
tens; these became judges respecting the smaller occurrences, while he
reserved only the most important to himself.

This proves clearly that the journey was over, and that the time of rest
was come.

This certainly appears to be contradicted in the beginning of the next
chapter.[133] “In the third month,[134] when the children of Israel were
gone forth out of the land of Egypt, the same day came they into the
wilderness of Sinai. For they were departed from Raphidîm, and were come
to the desert of Sinai, and had pitched in the wilderness, and then
Israel encamped before the Mount, and Moses went up unto God, and the
Lord called to him out of the mountain,” &c.

According to this there is a journey between Raphidîm and Sinai. This
decides in favour of the tradition, which believes the Mountain of the
Law to have been found beyond Firân, in the Gebel Mûsa. It will not,
however, be guessed that, by this acceptation, it will fall into a much
greater contradiction with the text. Furthermore the words speak of
nothing more than one day’s journey;[135] also, not in the fourth book,
where, nevertheless, between Elim and Raphidîm, not only Alus and
Daphka, but also the Red Sea, although this lay by Elim, are
particularly mentioned. From Firân to Gebel Mûsa was, at least, two long
days’ journey, if not more. Then, however, “the Mountain of God” has
already been mentioned in Raphidîm; likewise it has been named a rock
in Choreb, and it is impossible to understand any other to be the
“Mountain of God,” but the “Mountain of God, Choreb,” to which Moses
drove the sheep of Jethro.

We should thus understand, that there were two “Mountains of God,” the
one, “The Mountain of God Choreb,” in Raphidîm, which might be Serbâl,
and one “The Mountain of God Sinai,” upon which the Commandments were
given, which might be Gebel Mûsa.[136] This acceptation would, however,
not only be scarcely credible, but would contradict itself most
positively by the fact, that the Mountain of God, Choreb, where Moses
was called, already before was designated as the Mountain of the
Law;[137] (2, 3, 1, 12,) and further the general name of “God’s
Mountain,” which so often appears, without any other name (2, 4, 27, 18,
5, 24, 13, 4, 10, 33,) could only be used if there were but one such
mountain; and finally, that the name Sinai, or Mount Sinai, and Choreb,
or Mount Choreb, continue to be used in the very same signification as
the Mountain of the Law.

This visible difficulty has also formerly been felt.[138] Josephus
(_Ant._ 3, 2, 3,) helped himself out of it, by putting the supposed
beginning of the nineteenth chapter, from its present place to before
the visit of Jethro; so that Moses did not receive his family in
Raphidîm, but in Sinai. By this two difficulties would certainly be
overcome; one, that there was only one Mountain of God, and the other,
that the organisation of the people did not take place during the
journey. He also surrenders after some consideration, the statement that
the rock, which Moses struck, lay in Choreb.

The new school have, however, set forth the opinion that either Sinai
was the general name of the whole range of mountains, and Choreb that of
the one mountain where the law was given, or contrarywise, that Choreb
signified the wider designation, and Sinai the single mountain,[139]
while the monkish tradition gave the names to two mountains lying close
together.[140] A comparison of the individual places does not appear to
me to admit of either of these views; my opinion leans much more to that
of the indiscriminate use of the two names Choreb and Sinai, and that
both point out one and the same mountain, and the neighbourhood.[141]
Perhaps Choreb might be the particular local Amalekite name, and Sinai a
name derived from its situation in the desert of Sin.

As to what concerns the departure from Raphidîm, it must appear very
probable to many, that those words, which so completely interrupt the
natural continuity of the events, have been purposely displaced either
by Josephus, or before him did not originally belong here, but were
placed at the beginning of the giving the Commandments, when this (as
without doubt, it frequently happened) was taken distinctly from all
that went before, or came after.[142] The want of connection, since the
arrival at Sinai, is mentioned before the departure from Raphidîm, and
the expression so difficult of explanation, “and the same day,” while by
other statements of time, a particular day is meant, would support the
supposition.[143] Those, however, to whom this acceptation may appear
too bold, as it does not agree with the original comprehension of the
subject, may understand the new departure as a slight misarrangement of
the encampment, as we must already consider that of the departure from
Elim to the coast of the Red Sea. This change happened either while they
advanced from El Hessue, where the sea was first seen, to Firân, from
Firân into the upper part of the Wadi Aleyât, where the camp could
spread out, far round the foot of the mountain.[144]

Such a comprehension will alone content those who strive to represent
the whole course of events in their essential and necessary points.
They will not be able to prevent the conviction, that Serbâl, on account
of the oasis at its foot, must have been the aim and centre of the new
immigrating population, and that to be fenced in in a mountain-hollow,
like the plain at Gebel Mûsa, where the multitude could find no water,
no fruit, or manna-bearing trees, and where they were cut off from all
connection with the other part of the peninsula more than anywhere else,
could never possibly, have been the intention of the wise and learned
man of God. It must be acknowledged that the distinguishing Sinai as the
principal mountain of the desert of Sin, and the sanctity that it
possessed, not only among the Israelites, but also among the native-born
races of the country, very decidedly point out Serbâl; further, that the
Raphidîm, with the well of Moses of Choreb, which was defended by the
Amalekites, undoubtedly lay in the Wadi Firân, that consequently also
the mountain of God, Choreb, where Moses was called, and the mountain of
God, near Raphidîm, where Moses was visited by Jethro, and organized the
people, could be no other than Serbâl, from which finally, it also
appears, that if we do not admit of two mountains of God, the Mountain
of the Law lay near Raphidîm, and in Serbâl must be recognised, and not
in Gebel Mûsa.

In conclusion, let us once more see how far the present tradition agrees
with our result; this goes back as far as the founding of the convent by
Justinian in the sixth century.[145] This was by no means the first
church of the peninsula. At a much earlier period, we find a bishopric
in the city of Pharan, at the foot of Serbâl.[146] This was the first
Christian centre-point of the peninsula, and the church founded by
Justinian was for a long time dependent upon it. It is a question
whether the tradition, which sees Sinai in the present Gebel Mûsa can be
referred to a time prior to Justinian.[147] For solitary hermits this
district is particularly adapted, and exactly for the same reason it
would be unfitted for a great civilized and commanding people, who would
exhaust all its resources, as it is in a retired spot, distant from all
the frequented and connecting roads; but nevertheless, by reason of its
situation in the high mountains, it affords sufficient nourishment for
the moderate necessities of the solitary scattered monks. The gradually
increasing hermit-population might then have attracted the attention of
the Byzantine emperor to this very spot, and at that time dying
tradition, by these means have revived and fixed for the time to
come.[148]

What I have said about the situation of Elim, Raphidîm, and of the Mount
Choreb or Sinai, fails certainly in scholarlike proof, which I also
shall not be able to send from Thebes; this can only be drawn with any
advantage from the course of the earliest traditions before Justinian,
which, even if they should coincide in every point with these of the
present time, nevertheless would determine nothing positively. It
appears to me that these questions must remain ever undecided, since the
elements which stood at my command, that is to say, the Mosaic account
itself, the examination of the situations and the knowledge of the
historical circumstances of that time, were not considered sufficient
for their solution. Only, a contemporary examination of these three most
essential sides of the researches will allow a correct picture to be
obtained of the whole story; while the attempt to give the same
authority, without any difference, to each single point of the
representation now lying before us, will necessarily lead us into the
road of false criticism, which always sacrifices the understanding of
the one to the understanding of the whole.

LETTER XXXIV.

THEBES, KARNAK.
_May 4, 1845._

On the 6th of April we had quitted Tôr, where we stopped one night. We
landed every night on the shell and coral-rich African coast during our
far voyage, until, on the 10th, we reached Kossêr, where the brave Seïd
Mahommed from Qeneh was awaiting us, in order to provide us with camels
for our return to Thebes. In four days we passed along the broad
Rossaffa road over the mountains by Hamamât, and arrived at our
head-quarters in Thebes on the 14th.

We found everything in the most desirable order and activity, only our
old, faithful castellan ’Auad came to meet me with head bound up, and
greeted me with a weak voice. He had but just escaped from death’s door.
I already mentioned, in a former letter, that he and all the rest of the
house of the Sheikh at Qurna had incurred a blood-guiltiness which was
not yet avenged. The family of the murdered man, at Kôm el Birâh, had,
shortly after our departure, seized the opportunity, when ’Auad and a
relation were returning home from Luqsor, to surprise the two
unsuspecting wayfarers. They thought more of ’Auad’s companion than
himself, and therefore called to the latter to depart; but as he would
not do it, but defended his comrade lustily, he received an almost
fatal blow on the head with a sharp weapon, which stretched him fainting
on the ground; the other was murdered, and thrown into the Nile, as an
expiation for the seven years’ guilt. Since then there has been peace
between the families.

A more extended report on our Sinai journey, to which I have added two
maps of the peninsula, was carried out by Erbkam after my plans. Now I
have the heavy closing of my account with Thebes before me, which,
however, I hope to complete in ten to twelve days.

LETTER XXXV.

CAIRO.
_July 10, 1845._

Our first halting-place after leaving Thebes, on the 16th of April, was
Dendera, the magnificent temple of which is the last northward, and,
although it is only of a late, almost merely Roman period, it furnished
much matter for our portfolios and note-books. There we employed nine
whole days on the remarkable rock-tombs of Amarna, of the government of
Amenophis IV., that royal puritan, who persecuted all the gods of Egypt,
and would only admit the worship of the sun’s disk.

When we came into the neighbourhood of Benisuef, we saw a stately
steamer belonging to Ibrahim Pasha hurrying toward us. We hoisted our
flag, and immediately, in answer to our greeting, there appeared the red
Turkish flag with the crescent on board the steamer. Then it altered its
course, and bore right down for us.

We were eager for the news that was coming. A boat was lowered, and made
itself fast to us. How joyfully was I surprised to recognise in the
fair-complexioned Frank that came up to us, my old university friend Dr.
Bethmann, who had come across from Italy to accompany me home by way of
Palestine and Constantinople. Ali Bey, Ibrahim Pasha’s right hand, who
was steaming to Upper Egypt, had kindly taken him in his ship, and was
sorry, as he told me, to lose the pleasant travelling companion, who had
become quite dear to him during their short acquaintance.

His presence, and his interest and assistance, are now of the more value
to me, as the rest of my companions have left me here alone. They
departed hence yesterday. How gladly should I have accompanied them, as
to-day the third anniversary of my departure from Berlin has already
come round; but the taking down of the pyramid tombs yet keeps me back.
The four workmen, who were sent me from Berlin as assistants, have
arrived; they are strong young men, and I took them immediately with me
to the Pyramids. We ensconced ourselves in a conveniently situated
grave; a field-smithy and a scaffolding for the crane was erected, and
the work was quickly commenced.

The difficulties of the whole matter lie, however, rather in the petty
jealousies that surround us here on every side, and in the various
diplomatic influences which not unfrequently make even Mohammed Ali’s
direct orders illusory. It therefore also appeared imperatively
necessary to Herr von Wagner, that I should not leave Egypt under any
circumstances, until the end of the taking down and shipping of the
monuments, and so I shall have to remain patiently here for some weeks
longer.

LETTER XXXVI.

CAIRO.
_July 11, 1845._

Allow me now briefly to add some thoughts which have occupied me much of
late.[149] I have never lost sight of your desire to decorate the New
Museum in a manner appropriate to its contents. I hope very much that it
is still your intention to do so. I have heard with great pleasure of
the arrangement of the Egyptian halls through Herr Hertel, and have
heard from him that the decorations of the walls are yet _in suspenso_.
So favourable an opportunity will scarcely again present itself, to have
all the materials at hand at the first establishment of a museum for the
creation of a true whole in every respect, and to offer to the public so
many novel and important things in the plan, materials, and
arrangements, as at the establishment of the Egyptian Museum. You have
already, if I remember right, mentioned to me that you purpose to erect
an _historical_ museum, as, indeed, the object and the idea of all
should be, but yet exists nowhere. It is, however, attainable to some
extent in an Egyptian museum, which can only be approached by others at
a vast distance, even under the most favourable circumstances, as with
no other people are the dates for each single monument so simple and
certain as here, and no other collection is extended over so long a
period (more than 3,000 years). I therefore take for granted, generally,
that you desire to arrange the principal saloons, as far as it is
possible, in historical succession, and to place in juxtaposition, as it
were, whatever belong to the Old, the New, and to the Græco-Roman
Empire, at any rate, in such a manner that each larger space should have
a definite historical character. This has always been before my eyes
also in their collection, although I do not at all believe that this
principle should be pedantically carried into every particular. Of the
casts which you will probably desire to embody in the collection of
casts, it would be very desirable, for the sake of completeness, to have
some duplicates in the Egyptian saloon.

But what makes me write you on such matters already from hence, is the
reflection that you are perhaps already so far advanced, or soon will
be, that you will feel desirous of coming to some resolution as to the
architectural and artistical decoration of the saloons, for which some
remarks from me might not be quite unacceptable to you.

For the Egyptian saloon you will certainly choose an Egyptian style of
architecture, and one carried out in every way, for which, according to
what I understand from Hertel, there is yet plenty of time; for I think
that, in order to produce a general harmonious impression, the different
styles peculiar to the different periods, particularly orders of
pillars, must be retained in their historical order, and in their rich
glory of colours.

The coloured wall-paintings cannot be omitted. Every temple, every
grave, every palace-wall was covered by the Egyptians from top to bottom
with painted sculptures or pictures. The first question is, in what
style these pictures should be carried out. They can now either be free
compositions in the Greek style, or strictly Egyptian representations,
but avoiding Egyptian perspective; therefore a kind of translation,
after the manner of the wall-frieze in the _Musée Charles X._ or,
finally, they could be exact copies of pure Egyptian representations
drawn by us and only employed in such places where necessity requires
it. As to the first style, I really think that such a man as Cornelius
would be able to gain something grand and beautiful, even from such a
task, if he were inclined to enter upon so foreign a field; but then the
public would probably take a great deal more interest in the painter
than in the representations from a history yet so strange to him.

The second style[150] might perhaps be worthy of trial, which, in a
single instance, might also succeed, and then certainly would not be
without interest. Still I am quite convinced that such hybrid
representations in a long series would not satisfy the necessary
requirements, because they would take for granted a perfection in two
art-languages, and would also certainly displease the public. All the
attempts I have hitherto met with, at different times, in this style
have, according to my own feelings, totally failed, and become
ridiculous in the eyes of artists, although, as I said before, I do not
believe that such an attempt might not succeed once, with careful
selection of the subjects. To me, it therefore seems that the third, but
least assuming style, alone remains; but it unites so many advantages
that I well believe it will gain your approval.

As to the subjects of the representations, there can scarcely be a
doubt, They must represent the culminating point of Egyptian history,
civilisation, and art, in a characteristic manner, and I myself was
astonished at the wealth of most appropriate situations, which
immediately present themselves if we pass in review what yet lies before
us of Egyptian history. In order to give you a cursory idea of it, I
will communicate the single points which I wrote down while I was yet
in doubt whether one or other of the two first styles of representation
might not be employed. Of course, a much more extended commentary would
be necessary for this than I can now present; but a merely preliminary
view is all that is required now. The names enclosed in brackets show
where the materials for single compositions would be found.

ANTE-HISTORICAL.

Elevation of the God HORUS to the divine throne of OSIRIS
(Dendera). As a contrast to the last number.

OLD EMPIRE.

Dyn. I. Departure of MENES from This, the city of Osiris.

Founding of MEMPHIS, the city of Phthah, by Menes.

Dyn. IV. Building of the Pyramids under CHEOPS and CHEPHREN.

Dyn. VI. Union of the two crowns of Upper and Lower Egypt under the
hundred years of the reign of APAPPUS.

Dyn. XII. Temple of Ammon at THEBES, the city of Ammon, founded by
Sesurtesen I. in the twelfth dynasty.

Immigrating HYKSOS (Benihassan).

LABYRINTH and LAKE MŒRIS, works of AMENEMHA III. in the twelfth
dynasty.

Dyn. XIII. Shortly afterwards the IRRUPTION of the HYKSOS into
Lower Egypt.

Expulsion of the Egyptian rulers into Ethiopia.

Supremacy of the Hyksos.

NEW EMPIRE.

Dyn. XVII.--XVIII. AMENOPHIS I. and the black Queen Aahmesnefruari.

TUTHMOSIS III. expels the HYKSOS from Abaris.

JERUSALEM founded by them.

AMENOPHIS III. Memnon and the vocal statue.

Persecution of the Egyptian gods and introduction of sun-worship
under Bech-en-Aten (Amarna).

King HORUS the avenger.

Dyn. XIX. SETHOS I. (Sethosis, Sesostris) Conquest of CANAAN
(Karnak). Joseph and his brethren.

RAMSES II. the Great, Miamun; war with the Cheta (Ramesseum.)[151]

The (brick-making) Israelites (Thebes) built Pithom and Ramses
under Ramses II.[152]

Colonisation of GREECE from Egypt

MENEPHTHES. DEPARTURE of the ISRAELITES to Sinai. MOSES before
Pharoah. Beginning of the new SIRIUS PERIOD, 1322, B.C.

Dyn. XX. RAMSES III. Battle from Medînet Habu.

Dyn. XXI. SHESHENK I. (Shishak) takes JERUSALEM (Thebes).

Dyn. XXV. SABAKO the Ethiopian, rules in Egypt.

Dyn. XXVI. PSAMMETICHUS the Philhellene elevates the arts.
Departure of the war-caste to Ethiopia.

Dyn. XXVII. CAMBYSES rages, and destroys temples and statues.

Dyn. XXX. NECTANEBUS (Philæ).

ALEXANDER, son of Ammon, conquers Egypt; builds Alexandria.

Ptolemæus PHILADELPHUS founds the library.

CLEOPATRA and CÆSARION (Dendera).

CHRIST near Heliopolis.

So large the selection would, of course, not be, if we had only to do
with existing paintings. The Old Empire would then first begin with the
fourth dynasty, and the Hyksos period would be entirely wanting, because
nothing is preserved of an earlier date to the former, and nothing
remains of the latter.

But, on the other hand, Egyptian art could be represented more fully,
and each painting would have a scientific interest. I had preliminarily
made the following selection, which, however, by reason of our great
riches in 1,300 drawings, could be enlarged and enlarged in every way.

MYTHOLOGY.

1. The greater and the lesser gods. First and second Divine
dynasty.

2. OSIRIS undertakes the government of the Lower World, (Karnak).

HORUS that of the Upper (Dendera).

3. Divine Triad of THIS and ABYDOS: OSIRIS, ISIS, HORUS.

4. Divine Triad of MEMPHIS: PHTHA, PACHT, IMHOTEP.

5. Divine Triad of THEBES: AMMON-RA, MUT, CHENSU.

OLD EMPIRE.

King CHUFU (Cheops), beheading enemies (Peninsula of Sinai).
Domestic Scene of the fourth and fifth dynasty (Gizeh and Saqâra).

APAPPUS unites the two crowns (Road to Kossêr).

SESURTESEN I., of the twelfth dynasty, conquers the Ethiopians
(Florence). Domestic scenes of the peaceful prince of the twelfth
dynasty. Asiatic attendants, forerunners of the Hyksos; wrestlers,
games, hunting, &c. (Benihassan). Colossus drawn by men (Bersheh).

Immigrating, fugitive Hyksos (Benihassan).

NEW EMPIRE.

Working of the quarries of Memphis (Tura).

AMENOPHIS I. and AAHMESNEFRUARI. (Thebes).

TUTHMOSIS III. and his sister (Thebes; Rome).

TUTHMOSIS III. Tribute. Erection of Obelisks (Thebes.)

AMENOPHIS III. (Memnon) and his queen Tii before Ammon Ra (Thebes).

Progress of an Ethiopian Queen to Egypt under AMENTUANCH (Thebes.)

AMENOPHIS IV. (Bech-en-aten) the SUN-WORSHIPPER.

His procession in chariots with the queen and four princesses, in
the Sun-temple of Amarna (Grottoes of Amarna).

A favourite carried on the shoulders of the people before Amenophis
IV. Presentations of wreaths of honour throughout the whole of the
royal family.

HORUS running to Ammon (Karnak).

SETHOS I. makes war against Canaan (Karnak).

RAMSES II. War against the Asiatic Cheta (Ramesseum).

The same in the Tree of Life (Ramesseum).

The same triumphing; procession of kings (Ramesseum).

RAMSES III. Battle with the Robu (Medînet Habu.)

The same among his daughters playing with them (Medînet Habu.)

RAMSES XII. Magnificent Procession of Ammon (Quarna).

PISHEM the priest-king (Karnak).

SHESHENK I. (Shishak) leads the prisoners of Palestine before Ammon
(Karnak); King of JUDAH.

SABAKO the Ethiopian (Thebes).

TAHRAKA the Ethiopian (Barkal)

PSAMMETICHUS. Amasis (Thebes).

NECTANEBUS (Thebes).

ALEXANDER. PHILIP ARIDÆUS (Thebes).

PTOLEMÆUS PHILADELPHUS (Thebes).

CLEOPATRA and CÆSARION (Dendera).

Crowning of CÆSAR AUGUSTUS (Philæ).

Ethiopian matters from MEROE.

This, or a similar selection of representations, as large as the number
of wall divisions will allow, carried out in the strictly classical
Egyptian style, and with the rich mass of colours of the original, would
give, better than anything else could, an idea to the spectator of
Egyptian art on a large scale; the matter would present itself for his
decision, and their study would assimilate well with the small and
single original monuments. For except the graves that we are now taking
down, and which offer only the simplest things, no monument is large
enough to give an idea of Egyptian temples and wall-paintings in
general, in which a grandeur and a power of composition are often to be
found, and a feeling for general harmony of arrangement and division of
the whole, which will highly astonish the attentive. Such a selection of
the most beautiful and most characteristic in large, easily examined
pictures, would perhaps, conduce more than anything else, to procure a
larger public for Egyptological science, and, at the same time, produce
the inestimable advantage of obviating all malicious criticisms of the
paintings as modern compositions; for every hasty critic could be
referred to the originals, the highly important place of which, in the
early history of the human race, cannot be taken from them by any
peevish feuilletonist. Each would be told, that he must first study the
originals, ere he dare venture on pronouncing upon the faithful copies;
for if our young artists of three years’ practice are employed, I am
sure that little can be objected to their works with reference to
classicality of style. The novelty of the thought, and the large and
complete effect, could certainly not fail to produce considerable
impression on the learned and unlearned public, and clever men, and
above all his Majesty, would at once be satisfied with the arrangement,
without thinking of the execution. To this would finally be added the
proportionately very unexpensive execution, from the extreme simplicity
of the draught and painting, as all the cost of artistical composition
has already been borne by the ancient Egyptians themselves.

The painting must begin, according to the Egyptian custom, at a certain
height (which is also convenient for our purpose), and must rest upon a
high band running underneath, the colour of which must resemble simple
wood or stone. The high walls must also be divided into several sections
one above another, and in the frieze, the whole series of the Egyptian
Pharaohs, or even only their cartouches must be depicted. The ceilings
in the ante-chambers could be blue with golden stars, the usual manner
of denoting the Egyptian heaven, and in the historical saloons, the long
rows of wide-winged vultures, the symbol of victory, with which most of
the ceilings of the temples and palaces are ornamented in an
incomparably magnificent manner. Finally, a certain profusion of
hieroglyphical inscriptions might not be wanting, as they are so
intimately connected with all the Egyptian representations, and make a
splendid effect in gay colours. For the doors and middle stripes of the
ceilings, modern hieroglyphical inscriptions might easily be composed,
which would refer, after the ancient Egyptian manner, to the munificence
of the king, to the place and time, and to the aim of the buildings. How
glorious would be the two Egyptian orders of columns in their simplicity
and rich colours in the midst of all!

For the ante-rooms, at last, another idea might be realized. One could
here paint on the walls views of the present Egyptian localities, in
order to give the person coming in, some idea of the country, and of the
condition of the buildings whence the antiquities around him were taken.
These views might also be historically arranged, according to the
principal place of the different epochs; yet that historical knowledge
would here have to be taken for granted, which we are now seeking to
diffuse. Therefore a geographical arrangement would probably be the most
agreeable to the purpose, and should probably comprehend views of
Alexandria, Cairo, the Pyramids of Gizeh, Siut, Benihassan, Abydos,
Karnak, Qurna, Cataracts of Assuan, Korusko, Wadi Halfa, Sedeïnga,
Semneh, Dongola, Barkal, Meroe, Chartûm, Sennâr, and Sarbut el Châdem,
in Arabia Petræa.

Beside all this, there might be a very rich, highly-interesting, and at
the same time useful selection of articles and occupations of private
life in the other spaces, all copied from the larger originals, by which
in an equally inviting as certain manner, the comprehension of the
collected antiquities relating to domestic life, can be made more easy
in every way.

LETTER XXXVII.

JAFFA.
_October 7, 1845._

The taking down the tombs proceeded quickly; but as was to be expected,
the transport and embarkment caused our greatest hindrance. Also the
exportation of the whole of the monuments required a particular
permission from the Viceroy. I set off, consequently, on the 29th August
to Alexandria, in order to take leave of Mohammed Ali, and to obtain at
the same time an official termination to our mission.

The Pasha received me in his former friendly manner, and immediately
gave the necessary commands for the exportation of the collection,
which, in a special writing which was handed to me, he presented to his
Majesty our King. As soon as these preparations were concluded I
returned to Cairo; found there the last orders about the transport of
the monuments to Alexandria, and then, on the 25th September, departed
with Bethmann for Damietta. I visited, on this journey, several ruins of
cities in the eastern Delta, such as those of Atrib (Athribis), Samanud
(Sebennytos), Behbet el Hager (Iseum); but, excepting the rubbish mounds
of Nile earth, and fragments of bricks, which point out the historical
situation, we found only a few blocks, which lay scattered about the old
temples. Only in San, the anciently renowned Tamis, to which I made an
excursion from Damietta across the Lake of Menzaleh, are the
wall-foundations of a temple of Ramses II., and a number, namely about
twelve or fourteen, small granite obelisks of the same king; some whole
and some in fragments.

On the 1st of October we went from Damietta to the Rheda of Ezbe, and
sailed the following morning to the Syrian coast. We had contrary winds
almost the whole way, cruised about for a whole day on the picturesque
and rocky shores of Askalon, and only yesterday landed on the holy land
of the strand of Joppa.

LETTER XXXVIII.

NAZARETH.
_November 9, 1845._

My last letter of the 26th of October from Jerusalem, I am sorry to say,
you will not receive, as the courier (of Dr. Schulz, our consul), to
whom I had given it, with five others, was attacked by robbers on the
road to Berut, near Cesarea, much ill-used, and robbed of all his
despatches, together with the little money he had with him. The want of
order in this country is very great. The Turkish authorities, to whom
the country has been again given up by Christian bravery, are lazy,
malicious, and weak at the same time, whilst Ibrahim Pasha at least knew
how to maintain order and security as far as his government extended.

In Jerusalem we remained nearly three weeks, which I passed in obtaining
a knowledge of the religious circumstances of the present time, every
day becoming more important, and partly in some antiquarian,
topographical researches. The great affability and communicativeness of
the Bishop Alexander, who overtook us, with Abeken of Jaffa, and the
learned industry of Dr. Schulz, with whom I had been intimate since our
mutual stay in Paris, in the years 1834 and 1835, have greatly assisted
me in rendering these delightful days both important and instructive. An
excursion to Jericho, to Jordan, and the Dead Sea, and back over San
Saba formed an interesting episode. My copious diary of the whole time
was, however, contained in the lost letter, which will never appear
again, and which I can now but imperfectly replace.

On the 4th November we left the Holy City. On account of the war, now
becoming serious, which the Pasha of Jerusalem was carrying on with
Hebron, we had same difficulty in procuring mules and horses. The first
night beyond Jerusalem we passed under the tents in Bîreh. On the second
day we went through Bethin (Bethel), ’Ain el Haramîeh (the Robbers’
Well), Selûn (Silo), to Nablûs (Sichem, Neapolis), and ascended the same
evening the Garizim, the holy mountain of the Samaritans, the small
remains of whom (about seventy men or 150 souls) we made ourselves
acquainted with the next day. They are still abhorred by the Jews, and
have also as little in common with the Christians and the Mahommedans.

We saw from the Garizim the naked rocky level, surrounded by some old
walls, where these Sámari still offer yearly, as in former times, their
sheep to their God. The next morning, after we had visited the house of
prayer of the Samaritans, in which we were shown the ancient Samaritan
handwriting of the Pentateuch, as well as Jacob’s well and the
vine-covered grave of Joseph, we rode on, accompanied by an armed
servant of Soliman Bey, in whose house we had lodged, to Sebastîeh
(Sebaste, the ancient Samaria) where we saw the ruins of a beautiful
old church, of the time of the crusaders, which is said to be built over
the grave of John the Baptist. The night we passed in the well-wooded
Gennîn (Egennin). From thence our road led through the wide fertile yet
nevertheless deserted plain of Jesreel (Esdraelon), across the great
battle-field of Palestine, to Zerîn, and to the beautiful Ain Gulût
(Goliath’s spring), where Naboth’s vineyard lay, and Ahab’s whole family
were murdered, then over the Gebel Dah’i, the little Herman, behind
which arose Tabor (Gebel e’ Tûr) which, on account of its magnificent
cupola form and its open situation, distinguished itself, and enchained
our eyes, till we road again into the mountains to the lovely Nazareth,
amphi-theatrically situated in a mountain-hollow. Early yesterday we
made an excursion from here over Mount Tabor, to Tiberias, to the Lake
of Genezaret, and have just returned. There also we were obliged,
against my will, to take with us armed Arabs as bodyguards, and, in
fact, we met, particularly in the neighbourhood of the woody beautiful
Tabor, many vagabond Bedouins, in their picturesque gay costume,
watching on the roads or riding across the fields right up to us, whom I
should not have liked to have met alone.

LETTER XXXIX.

SMYRNA.
_December 7, 1845._

From Nazareth we went down the plain of Jesreel to Mount Carmel, where
we passed the night in the stately newly-built convent. The next morning
we ascended from thence the mountain which commands the sea, with its
fragrant shores, and down to Haipha (Hepha), sailed across the creek to
Acca (Ako, Ptolemais), and rode then along the coast upon the wet sand,
with the continued view of the accompanying mountains, through Sur
(Tyrus) and Saida (Sidon) to Berut (Berytos), where we were received
most cordially by the Prussian Consul General, Herr von Wildenbruch.

On the 13th of November we set off from Berut to Damascus. I left Gabre
Mariam at the Herr von Wildenbruch’s, and took only my faithful Berber
Ibrahim and a _khawass_ back with me. Behind the nearest sand-hills to
Berut, the road leads immediately up the flowery and richly-wooded and
watered mountains, which we crossed about the frontier, between the
territories of the Drusen and the Maronites. We ascended the whole day,
sometimes upon incredibly bad rocky roads, and remained one night on
this side the mountain brow; this we reached only the next morning, and
had now a wide view over the fertile plains of Leontes, which divides
Libanon and Anti-lebanon, and, with the exception of the interruption of
Gebel e’ Shech (Hermon) and its branches, which are pushed in between,
forms a continued broad immense fissure along the whole of the valley of
Jordan to the Dead Sea, to the Gulf of Akaba and the Red Sea. We
descended to Mekseh, breakfasted on one of its flat roofs, and were to
have cut across from here south-eastward through the valley to Megdel
and Aithi; but we preferred taking a round northward to Zachleh, which
is one of the largest and most flourishing towns of Christian Libanon.
On the road we met with a party of soldiers, who were escorting several
thousand muskets upon donkeys, which they had the day before taken from
the inhabitants of Zachleh. The disarming of the whole of Libanon by
Sheikh Effendi had commenced from the south with great partiality, as is
well known, against the unhappy Christians, who were shamefully
sacrificed by a merciless policy. In order to disarm the strong and
influential Zachleh, it had been invested with 200 men of the regular
troops, of whom we found some still stationed there, and an innumerable
multitude of Bedouins, whose assistance they would make use of, in cases
of necessity, against the Christians encamped in the valley of Beqâ’a;
these last, however, were already gone. We inquired, in the still
agitated city, after the Bishop Theophilus, who was described to us as
having been a heroic and powerful champion in the battle; unfortunately
he was gone to Berut. After we left there, we met on the road a German
Catholic priest, who accompanied us to the frontier Mo’allaqa, and
related to us many cruelties committed by the Turks, here, as every
where else, on the tormented inhabitants. Some hundreds of guns more
than were in the whole place, had been demanded, and the old Sheikhs who
had to collect them, bastinadoed so long, till the inhabitants bought
them with great trouble and at a high price in the camp of the Turks
themselves.

From Zachleh we went to Kerak, in order to visit the grave of Noah. We
found a long narrow building of well-united free-stone, and near it a
small cupola building, surrounded with a few trees, from whence we had a
beautiful view over the plain, and disclosed Anti-libanon. I saw through
a window hung with votive rags, in an arched space, a bricked-up tomb,
in the usual oriental form, but I was not a little surprised, upon
looking through all the windows the whole length of the building, always
to see the continuation of the same tomb, which appeared neither to have
beginning nor end. At last the door-keeper came, and I convinced myself,
with astonishment, that the tomb was forty ells long, according to exact
measurement 31m. 77´, thus something more than forty common Egyptian
ells.[153] This allows us to suppose that the measure of Noah’s body
was in proportion to his life, of a thousand years long.

From Kerak we at last turned to the right, into the plain towards Tel
Emdieh, then to the left into a valley, which led us straight to the
north, and by sunset we came to El’Ain, a small village by a well, which
lies at the end of the valley, at a tolerable height above the great
plain. On account of the round to Zachleh and Kerak, we were somewhat
behind our days’ reckoning, and for this reason, much to the
disappointment of our mule drivers, we determined to go on further to
Zebedêni, which is situated on the eastern declivity of Anti-libanon,
two hours from here. As none of our people had gone this journey through
the mountains, we took a guide with us, who conducted us soon out of our
valley, which passed between the outer mountains and the principal ridge
northward, up a tremendously steep, laborious, and endless rockway. The
moon rose, the hours passed, and yet the desired Zebedêni was not
reached. At length we stood at the steep verge of another valley, into
which we had to climb on foot laboriously, leading the horses, for a
whole hour, until we arrived at Zebedêni after a six hours’ march.
Every one here lay in the deepest sleep; we had to knock at several
houses, to ask the way to the convent, where we hoped to find shelter.
At last it was found that there was certainly a church in the place, but
no room to take us in, in the adjoining convent. We therefore quartered
ourselves in the last house, which after much knocking was opened to us.
It contained only one large room, which was, however, large enough for
us and our servants, and the numerous family of men, women, and
children, had withdrawn into one corner. But the people were friendly
and kind, got their _bakshish_ next morning, and let us go with the
invitation to repeat our visit upon our return. We now journeyed down
the beautiful fertile valley of Zebedêni to the south, until we turned
eastward again in an hour and a half into the steep rock pass, where the
running brook by which we had hitherto travelled, swelled into a little
river named Bárada, which forces itself a passage in incomparably
beautiful and picturesque cascades through the luxuriant green to the
great plain of Damascus. For several hours we rode along its steep
banks, and sometimes along its bed until we came to a high arch, which
served as a bridge from the left to the right shore. Here the road went
up the mountain, and we found in the continuation of the steep rock-wall
we had just quitted, a number of ancient rock tombs. Soon after the wild
gorge opened into a broader valley, in which the dashing river
serpentines on more easily, passing several friendly lying villages in
its course. Up to this place it had broken through a mountain ridge
running due north and south, in an easterly direction, and whence it now
flowed through a gateway formed of rock. Two single crags stood forth to
the eastward like mighty pylones, of which the southern one bore upon
its crown of several thousand feet in height, a little tomb, surrounded
with some trees. This place is revered as the grave of Abel Hebbi Habîl,
who, according to tradition, was buried here. The elevation is hardly to
be climbed; so it seemed from this side at least. We, therefore, did not
seek to ascertain whether the youth Habel had also had a grave of forty
ells in length built for him. At the foot of the rock, the ancient town
of Abila had been situated, the name of which had probably given rise to
the story.

We now left for some hours the charming valley of Bárada, and rode over
naked rocky _plateaux_, until we descended to it again near Gedîden, and
took a short rest on its shore in the shadow of high platanes and
glistening larches. At length we again quitted the river, which had
grown fuller and more violent from the many streamlets running into it,
climbed a high mountain, and stood suddenly in sight of the boundless
plain, which, stopped by no mountains to the east, lay before us like a
single great garden, with innumerable thick-leaved green trees, cut
through by roads and water. Directly at our feet, in the middle of this
garden, lay glorious Damascus, with its cupolas, minarets, and terraces.
We knew that we had to expect one of the most renowned views in the
world. Nevertheless we were astonished, and found our expectations
surpassed by the magnificent picture, which, as if by a magic stroke,
unfolded itself before us, after the lovely, but narrow valleys, which
alternated with the naked rock wildernesses. We remained at least an
hour on this spot, which has been distinguished by the stately erection
of a cupola resting on four open columns, called Qubbet e’ Nasr, “the
Cupola of Victory.”

Damascus is one of the most holy and most celebrated cities of the East.
The prophet Mahommed considered it thrice blessed, because the angels
spread their wings over it, and he, on perceiving the beautiful view,
did not conquer it, as to man but one paradise was promised, and he was
to find his in heaven. In the Koran God swears by the fig and the olive,
that is, by Damascus and Jerusalem, and the Arabian geographers call it
“the mole on the cheek of the world,”--“the plumage of the bird of
paradise,”--“the necklace of beauty;” in the titles of the sultans, “the
paradise-scented Dimishk.”[154] According to the saying of the eastern
Christians, Adam was made here out of the red earth; and the
neighbouring mountain Kassiûm the legend points out as the place where
Cain murdered Abel.

The Bárada, which we had followed from its first spring, runs somewhat
south of Damascus into the great plain, then turns to the left towards
the town, which it traversed in seven arms, and then runs into a lake.
It was the golden-streamed Chrysorrhoas of the ancients, the celebrated
Farfar of the eastern poets. It is this stream which causes the whole of
this paradise; and through it this ancient city, which was known even to
Abraham, and conquered by David, has had its importance secured.
Formerly Damascus was the centre of Arabian literature and learning, and
it is said that a disciple of the prophet gave instruction in the Koran
to 1,600 believers at the same time (according to the Lancastrian
method) in the great mosque of the Ommiades. The town appeared to us, at
first, not to respond to its glorious environs. Tolerably wide but bare
streets received us, with low houses, plaster walls, in which were
little doors, and hardly any windows. There were none of the beautiful
wood-carvings or stone ornaments to be seen either by the doors or at
the corners. Only some mosques and wells which we passed formed an
exception; and the many single trees in the streets and squares gave a
pleasing appearance. As we came more into the interior of the city, the
almost massive bazaars and the full shops; the richness of heaped-up
fruit of all sorts; the gay crowd of large and small in the numerous
costumes; and the never-ending turnings from one street into
another;--everything forced upon us the idea that we were in a large and
rich oriental city. We rode to the Prussian Consul’s, but he was lying
ill of a fever. We then went further to a newly-established hotel. Here,
also, as well as at the consul’s, we entered by a narrow door in an
unsightly outer wall into a little dark court, and from thence into a
low, crooked passage. Then, however, there opened before us a beautiful,
spacious court, surrounded by stately, shining marble walls, in the
middle of which was a fountain, overshadowed by lofty trees. At the
further end was an arched niche, whose vaulted top was twenty-five feet
high. To this one we mounted a few marble steps, and then found ourself
in a hall not large, but rather lofty, which opened into the court, and
along the inner walls had comfortable divans. To the left, near this
niche, was a dining-room; on the right we mounted a staircase to the
upper rooms, where we lived. These were wainscotted all round, and the
walls and ceiling were decked with gay painting, gilding, and silvering.
We afterwards saw several more of the best houses in Damascus, which all
from outside appeared almost miserable, but internally displayed an
oriental magnificence that was to be found nowhere else in this most
charming country. And in this manner they sometimes build at the present
time, at least, if we may judge by some of the small palaces, which have
only been built within the last ten or twenty years. There reigns here a
profusion of the use of marble and other valuable stone in these courts,
halls, and rooms, such as we only find in royal palaces in our own
country. The beautiful open halls, which are always built with a high
arch in front, are found sometimes on two or three sides of the court,
and have very often a small fountain, as well as the great one, which
never fails to stand in the middle of the court, generally overshadowed
by trees, which grow out of the middle of the marble slabs.

The next day we spent entirely in looking through the city, and
particularly the large bazars in which are spread out beautiful stuffs,
worked with gold and silver, magnificent arms, and other oriental
articles of luxury. We visited the great Khan, with its nine splendid
domed chambers; it is a kind of exchange for the most distinguished
tradespeople; then the grand mosque of the Ommiades, which is kept with
the utmost sanctity, and whose hall of pillars is 550 feet long, and 150
feet broad. It was formerly a Christian church, which must also have
been built on the foundations of a Romish Temple of Juno. We were not
allowed to enter, only to look in at the numerous open doors, and were
even prevented by a fanatical Mussulman from going upon the roof of a
neighbouring house, so that we were obliged to put it off till the next
day. We were also shown a splendid plane-tree, thirty-five feet in
circumference, which is in the middle of a street, near a well, called
after an old Sheikh Ali, who is said to have planted the tree; we went
also into the inviting coffee-house on the cool side of the stream. The
next day we rode to the south gate of the city, called Bab Allah,
towards which leads a perfectly straight street, more than an hour long,
between magnificent shops, mosques, work-shops, and other buildings,
which merits its name of “the street called Straight” (ἡ ῥύμη ἡ
χαλουμένη εὐθεῖα), in which Saul lived when he was converted by
Ananias.--(Acts ix. 11.)

On the road we stopped at the little cupola building which is usually
supposed to be the tomb of Saladin, but is really only a little betort
raised to his honour by Sultan Selim. The real tomb is twelve hours
south of Damascus, near a place called Gibba, according to a Sheikh,
whom we met here. From Bal Allah, the “Gate of God,” through which the
pilgrims to Jerusalem and Mekka go, we rode round the town, to the left,
through the pleasant orchards of olives, poplars, mulberry, and
giant-sized apricot trees; the latter produce the most delicious
apricots, which are dried, and under the name of Mishmish are sent all
over the world. We then came to the burying ground of the Jews, where
they were just letting down a body into the grave, and according to
their custom here were calling out the praises of the dead. Not far from
there lies the Christian burial-ground, in the neighbourhood of which
the place is pointed out where Saul was thrown to the earth by the
heavenly vision. From thence our way lay over a little bridge to the
town wall, in which they showed us, near a gate which is now bricked up,
the window through which Paul was let down. We continued along the wall
till we came to a beautiful Roman gate, with three entrances, the _Porta
Orientalis_, through which we came to the house of Ananias, and the cave
in the rock, which is now turned into a chapel. Then we rode through
fruit and olive gardens to a neighbouring village Gôba, where Elisha
crowned Hazael king of Syria, and Elijah was fed by ravens in the cave.

We visited also the tomb of the great Arabian mystic, the renowned
Sheikhs Mohieddin el Arabi, on our road from Damascus, in Salhîeh, which
is situated near, and we thought also of his master the Sheiks Shedeli,
who discovered how to make a drink of coffee, and used to keep his
pupils awake with it. In Palestine we wandered about the tombs of
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; Rebecca, Leah, and Rachel; of Joseph, David,
Solomon, and the Prophets; of Christ, his parents and his disciples.
Here we came to the tombs of Noah and Abel, and soon also to Seth’s; we
trode the fields of the paradise of the first human pair. What a
singular feeling it is to travel in a country where legends can be
occupied on such subjects!

We remained the first night after our departure in Sûk el Bárada, at the
foot of Nebbi Habîl. From thence we went again over the ancient arched
bridge, which, as well as most of the buildings of this country, were
built by the Empress Helena; and this time we examined more nearly the
tombs in the rocks, to which we had to arrive by a very difficult path,
through an old aqueduct hewn out of the rock. Some of these tombs were
singularly planned and appeared to be very ancient; further on, followed
several of the Greek period, with bas-reliefs and gables, and some
steles in the rock, on which we could still decypher some Greek words.
From here, not far up the river, we found an immense Roman work, the
great old (though now forsaken) road, hewn for a considerable distance
out of the solid rock. On the flat, high, side-wall were two Roman
inscriptions, each in duplicate. The longest ran thus:--

IMPerator CAESar Marcus AVRELius ANTONINVS | AVGustus ARMENIACVS ET
IMPerator CAESar Lucius AVRELius VERVS AVGustus AR | MENIACVS VIAM
FLVMINIS | VI ABRVPTAM INTERCISO | MONTE RESTIVERVNT PER | IVIium VERVM
LEGatum PRo PRaetore PROVINCiæ | SYRiae ET AMICVM SVVM | IMPENDIIS
ABILENORVM. The other was:--PRO SALVTE IMPeratoris AUGusti ANTONI | NI
ET VERI Marcus VO | LVSIVS MAXIMVS (centurio) LEGionis XVI. Flavin
Firmae QVI OPERI | IN STITIT Voto Suscepto.[155] Since then the rock has
been, without doubt, undermined and broken up for the second time by the
current, (probably very violent in the spring-time of the year,) as
close by the second copy of the two inscriptions, the rock-road breaks
off into a steep. Towards four o’clock we had ascended the Antilibanon,
and we then again went to Nebbi Shît, which is Seth, in the great plain
of the Leontes. We immediately went to search for the tomb of Nebbi
Shît, and were not a little astonished at finding here, as well as at
Nebbi Noëh, a solid ancient Ambian building, with a small cupola
adjoining, and within a grave forty ells long. It was wider than that of
Noah, because on both sides along the whole length of the grave three
steps led up to the height of the tomb, which were wanting in the
other. It is quite apparent that tradition, by giving such an uncommon
measure to the bodies of these two patriarchs, intended to represent
them as antediluvian men; and the number forty, which is so frequently
used both in the Old and New Testament as an indefinite holy number,
has, as is seen here, not lost this signification among the Arabians.

The same evening we rode two hours further, to Britân, and arrived
before sunrise next morning, at Bâlbek, the ancient Heliopolis, with its
famous ruins of the temple of the sun. I stopped next by the old stone
bridge, by which the road passed, and measured there a building block,
which was not quite loosened from the rock, of 67 feet in length, 14
feet in breadth, and 13 feet 5 inches thick. Of such blocks, or of
somewhat smaller ones, consist several walls of the ruins of the temple
and Bâlbek. A block that I measured on the spot, and in its place,
without particularly choosing it, was 65 feet 4 inches, by 12 feet 3
inches, and 9 feet 9 inches. The ruins are, in fact, immense; the style
of the architecture, in all its ornamental parts, is however heavy,
overloaded, and partly of a very barbarous taste.

To Bâlbek there hangs a very sad recollection. As I approached the
straggling houses of the village, which is very near the ruins of the
ancient temple, my faithful servant, Ibrahim, who had arrived here
before us, came to meet me with the joyful intelligence, that Abeken,
from whom we had separated in Jerusalem, had just reached the village. I
found him, indeed, in the next house to the worthy bishop, Athanasins;
hardly, however, had we greeted each other, when they came to tell me
that Ibrahim was dying outside in the street. I found him almost on the
same spot where he had met me in so friendly a manner, stretched out,
the death-rattle in his throat, and his eyes already fixed. A priest,
from the next convent, endeavoured to assist him, but in vain; he died
in a few minutes before my eyes. A fever produced by being exposed to
the weather, seemed to have given him his death-blow. He was a man of
sterling worth, and an inborn noble nature, such as is not often found
among the Arabs. I had taken him with me, in my journey to Nubia, from
Assuan; he desired, from his own impulse and attachment, to accompany me
to Europe, and would have been exceedingly useful to me in my labours on
the Sudan languages, on account of his knowledge of the Nubian dialects.
I wished to place a stone over the spot where he was buried, at the foot
of Antilibanon, on the slope of the hill near a tree; but no stone-mason
could be found. For this reason I sent one from Berut, with this
inscription:--IBRAHIMO HASSAN SYENE ORIVNDO SERVO BENE MERENTI P.R.
LEPSIVS. D. XXI. NOVEMB. MDCCCXLV.

This news made a deep impression upon Gabre Mariam, when I told it him
at Berut; he wept bitterly, for they had been very good friends.

Before we left Bâlbek, the bishop advised us to take another road than
that which we had intended to take, as the news had come that the other
side of Libanon was in a very disturbed state, and that the population
was in insurrection. However, as the whole country was in commotion, and
as we had never met with any difficulty on that account, we cared but
little about it, and remarked to him that we were only going through the
Christian districts, whose inhabitants would be friendly to us. We
quitted Bâlbek a little before sunset, and crossed the narrow plain, in
order to pass the night in Dêr el Ahmar, the “red convent,” and the next
day, with renewed strength, to ascend Libanon almost to its highest
point. During our whole journey through Palestine and Syria, we had,
till now, been favoured with the most beautiful weather. From day to
day, according to the calculations of other seasons, we might expect
continued rains, and, nevertheless, we had only once been wet through,
on our return from the Dead Sea to Jerusalem. The broad plain, Begâa,
which we crossed now a second time, is after the rains, at this season,
not passable; and the numerous mountain-streams of the well-watered
Libanon, are generally so swollen, that, on account of the want of
bridges, they can only be crossed with great danger. This evening the
sky was clouded over, in a threatening manner, the darkness of the night
was impenetrable, and at last, when we had just perceived some lights in
the distance, at Dêr el Ahmar, we lost our way upon a desert, full of
clefts, and the ground broken and rough. At last hardly were we arrived
when a heavy rain poured down. We shared again a large room with a
whole Christian peasant family, and passed one of the most unquiet of
nights.

Among the women and children, who appeared to be ill, there was a
constant groaning and fretting. In a short time the continued rain
penetrated the roof and dropped upon the beds; persons were sent up to
heap fresh sand upon it, and to roll it with heavy pieces of stone
pillars, (kept upon every house ready for this purpose,) which, however,
sent so much lime and dirt down upon us, that we were obliged to beg
that the operation might be discontinued. In a little shed near the
door, lay a dog with a numerous progeny, whose bed must have also been
wet, as they began to whine and yelp most piteously. Finally, our host
was with repeated and much noise knocked up, in order to procure a horse
for a soldier, who was carrying letters on further in haste for the
Pasha. Consequently, during the whole night we could gain no rest; and
if the Arabian proverb says, that the king of the fleas holds his court
in the holy city of the Jews, I have every reason to suppose that he has
removed his residence from there (where we laid comfortably) to this
place.

Towards morning the rain had ceased, and had turned into a thick fog,
which forming together into thick clouds, appeared sometimes to be cut
by the prominent mountains of the lofty Libanon, and sometimes with its
phantom-like play, with the light of the morning sun occasionally
breaking through upon the nearer and farther woody hills and
mountain-tops, perfectly delighted us. When we came to the first
height, which is divided from the principal chain by a shallow valley,
we had suddenly an indescribably beautiful and astonishing view over the
whole of the mountain range of Libanon, which rose up before us, its
whole length and down a considerable distance, covered with fresh
shining snow; a true Alpine country in its most magnificent features,
which towers majestically over this land blessed with eternal spring,
but now so shamefully oppressed by its Turkish enemies. I enjoyed most
fully this uncommon sight, which aroused in my heart a true native joy,
and I tried to retain within me this clear pure light. Before me I drove
my little Egyptian horse, who had lost his rider at Bâlbek, and who
carried on his back the small possessions he had left; I thought then,
how I had rejoiced a few days before, at the idea of the good Ibrahim’s
astonishment, when he should traverse with us the snowy region of
Libanon. The ass did not appear to be much pleased with the snow-heaps
that we had to ride through; he often stood quite astonished in the
middle of the snow, and no doubt took it all for salt, the white soft
fields of which he had already known by the Red Sea and elsewhere. We
rode zigzag along the immensely steep precipice seven to eight thousand
feet high, which is here not rocky, but covered with earth, and
terminates in a sharp brow. “El hamdu l’illah!” cried the old guide,
when we had reached the top; and, “Salâm, salâm,” sounded in chorus. We
had reached almost the highest point of Libanon, but the view over land
and sea was unfortunately hidden from us by clouds and fog, although
the blue sky was above our heads. After a short ride down from the top,
our guide showed us at our feet, in a large level inlet of the
mountains, the ancient and renowned forest of cedars, out of which King
Hiram sent the great stems to Solomon to build the temple; it appeared
from above as small as a garden. It had been considered for a length of
time as the remains of this forest, till, in later times, in a northern
part of Libanon, other forests of cedars have been discovered. We soon
lost sight of the cedars as we descended lower into the clouds, which
cut off all view from us. Suddenly the dark shadows of these giant trees
appeared in close rows before us, out of the great masses of fog, like
spirits of the mountains. We rode to the chapel of the hermit, who has
usually a good glass of Libanon wine to put before a stranger, but we
found it shut up; just then the clouds broke into a regular
straight-down rain, from which the needle-like roofs of the proud cedars
afforded us but little shelter. I found a cedar-apple hanging low enough
for me to break off, and to carry with me as a token of remembrance.
Some of these stems are forty feet in circumference, and ninety feet
high; and as it is supposed that a cedar of a hundred years old will
only be half a foot in diameter, so must these be reckoned three
thousand years old, which would reach back to the time of Solomon. The
rain increased, and we had yet several thousand feet to descend to the
nearest village, Bsherreh. The lower we came, the more slippery and
dangerous became the narrow, sometimes rocky, sometimes soft, footway,
which leads along the steep precipice over a yawning abyss down to the
right. At a bend in a corner of a rock, we at last caught sight of our
desired night-quarters, the rich, pleasant, and large village of
Bsherreh, which gives its name to the whole district, and is well known
on account of its strong and influential, but wild and ungovernable, and
often cruel inhabitants.

The rain had abated; the white houses with their flat roofs, the number
of silver poplars, plane-trees, and cedars, which rose up among them
either singly or in rows, formed one above another a semi-circle on a
hill projecting from the right hand precipice, and appeared, as they
shone with the rain-drops, as if they were just out of a fresh bath.
Nothing was moving in the village; it appeared as if everything was dead
in it; I rode on along a narrow path by the wall of a vineyard, with our
old guide, before the rest. Suddenly, at a bend of the road, a strong
voice called to us, and as I looked over the vineyard-terrace, of about
the height of a man, I saw to my great surprise, twenty guns pointed
towards me and the guide. The guide let the bridle of his horse fall,
and raised his hands towards heaven, and cried out to the people. I
immediately threw back the hood of my cloak, to show the people my
European hat, and to prove to them who we were. When they saw that there
were but few of us, and that we made no attempt to defend ourselves,
they came in hundreds from behind the trees, surrounded us, and for a
long time would not believe that we were not disguised soldiers. Some
threw sticks down upon our horses from the terraces, while I was
endeavouring to explain who we were to those nearest to me. Others
understood the mistake sooner, and came down to the street, and took
hold of the bridle of my horse. At last, a boy of about fourteen, with a
frank countenance, a beautiful forehead, and red fresh cheeks, pressed
through the crowd, and called out in Italian that we should not fear, it
was all a mistake, we were their friends, and we had only to ride and
dismount at his brother’s house. Some violent people accompanied us
still, and cried out to us from the walls with the most angry gestures;
while the great crowd were already satisfied, and raised a deafening
shout of joy, fired their guns into the air, and led us in triumph to
the village.

In Bsherreh, which contains from 1,200 to 1,500 inhabitants, all were on
foot; they pressed and pushed each other, in order to kiss our hands or
clothes. The women began their piercing cries; clapped their hands, and
danced; my brave boy remained still by my side, and so, at last, we got
step by step through the thick crowd, who now saluted us as friends, and
reached the house of the sheikh, of whom my guide was a younger brother.
We were led up the stone steps, across the hall, into the roomy chamber
where we were to lodge.

I passed almost the whole evening with the sheikh of the village, Jûsef
Hanna Dâhir, a full-grown young man with a serious, gentle countenance,
which invited confidence. His father had been killed in battle under
Ibrahim Pasha, who will be considered yet as a saint here, if the
present detestation of the Turk continues much longer. Sheikh Jûsef was
the eldest son of this numerous and old family, in which the office of
sheikh is hereditary. He related to me with full openness, tranquillity,
and judgment, everything that was passing among them; how they had
determined to deliver up their arms, which were demanded, but had
altered this determination when they had heard of the shameful acts
which had been perpetrated by the Turkish soldiery in the southern
districts. Now they had the number of thirty-four villages united, and
all sworn in their churches, not to give up their arms, but to use them
against the dogs of Turks. When I asked him if, since the death of their
common leader, Emir Beshir, they had any prospect of being able to
defend themselves against a disciplined army, he reckoned up in Bsherreh
alone 3,000, and in the whole united district 13,000 combatants, as much
as the whole Turkish military force in the country; besides these, they
had their mountains, their snow, and rain, their defiles, and
hiding-places, which would render all the cavalry and cannon of the
Turks useless. Added to this, said I, a friendly consul in Berut, who
will mediate to prevent the worst. This has, as I learned afterwards,
happened; the French General-Consul, Bourré, has negotiated in their
favour with the Pasha.

But I fear that all has been too late, and that over my good host in
Bsherreh the storm of war has already burst, and they will not be more
merciful to them and their children, than they were to their less
powerful neighbours.

I rejoiced much on that evening to be able to render a service to the
young Sheikh, whose quiet dignity had so much prepossessed me, in
dressing and binding up a wound, better than was possible with the means
they had, and I supplied him with linen and lint. He told me that we
could not go the next day, as he must prepare a feast for us, roast a
sheep, and show us that he was our friend; I however refused the
kindly-meant invitation.

The next morning, we took a servant of the Sheikh with us to the next
village, Ehden, which we found in great commotion, but not inimically
disposed toward us. Sentinels had been posted at different places, and
the gay population, in their dazzling red and yellow costume, who were
stationed on the hills around the village, appeared from a distance like
a flowery meadow among the green trees; they surrounded us, asked us
questions, and appeared to have different opinions about us. A young
Amazon ran from some distance to me, raised her finger in a threatening
manner, and reproached us that we Franks did not openly and efficiently
assist them.

We here took leave of our companion from Bsherreh; instead of him, a man
upon a noble spirited horse attached himself to us, unasked; he saluted
us politely, and at a certain distance kept us in sight. In about two
hours, on an even slope of the hill, we perceived a troop of armed
people in a field, who had planted the blood-red flag, as a signal to
proclaim revolt and war far and wide over the plain. The patrol came up
to us, and positively refused to let us proceed. Not till after a long
negotiation, through a golden bribe, and by the mediation of our
companion, who proved to be the Sheikh of a neighbouring village, did we
obtain a free passage; but the whole troop accompanied us to the foot of
the mountain. When we passed the next village, Zehêra, our companion the
Sheikh was obliged to use serious threats in order to pass us safely
over the frontier of the armed district; he then accompanied us along
another valley, to a turn in the rock, saluted us shortly, and rode
quickly back into the mountains. We had now only a few hours’ journey to
Tripolis, where we arrived soon after sunset, and passed the
grave-looking Turkish guards, who might have been somewhat roused from
their stupid carelessness by the prospect of a desperate battle with the
brave mountaineers.

We remained in Tripolis, now called Tarablûs, in a Latin convent, now
only inhabited and protected by two monks. They told us that a short
time before, the Christians of Libanon came to them, to desire their
spiritual intercession, whereupon they did not hesitate to exhibit the
holy sacrament for three days, on their account. Unfortunately the
Maronites have less scarcity of these spiritual prayers and good wishes
than of the more material provisions of bread and gunpowder, of which
the Turks cut off their supplies.

The next day we visited the Prussian-American Consul, who lives in a
pleasant house, of the oriental style, and then went to the bazaar.
Passing over a beautiful old bridge in the middle of the town, we met a
division of Turkish cavalry on their way to Libanon, in their gay,
tawdry, dirty costumes, with their lances, ten feet long, ornamented
with black ostrich feathers, and the little war-drums in full work going
before. About noon we left this place just at the same time that the new
Turkish general from Berut was passing the same gate, out of which we
rode. On our road we met the division of troops which had been ordered
from Zachleh here. We now travelled along the sea-shore, and almost the
whole day we heard the thunder of the cannon in the mountains.

We passed the night in a Khân on this side the mountain Râs e’ Shekâb,
named by the ancients Θεοῦ πρόσωπον, doubtless because to those who come
from the north, the Black Mountain, which here projects into the sea,
takes quite the form of a bust. The following day we came to the ancient
Byblus (Gebêl), and then crossed the river Adonis, which still at times,
after violent rains, weeping over the wounded darling of Aphrodite,
becomes blood-red. Beyond Gûneh, almost at the sea, partly indeed in it,
we reached Nahr el Kelb, the ancient Lycus, on whose southern side upon
the rock which projects into the sea, are sculptured the famous
bas-reliefs of Ramses-Sesostris, and of a later Assyrian king.[156]
Notwithstanding our sharp riding we did not arrive at the table-rock
till a little after sunset, and we passed the night at a Khân at the
further side.

The next morning I examined the sculpture more closely, (by which passes
the ancient, artificially constructed road, now broken up,) and I
rejoiced over some essential discoveries, as I found it would be
possible to decypher a date in the hieroglyphical inscriptions. Among
the three Egyptian representations, which all bear the cartouches of
Ramses II., the middle one is dedicated to the highest god of the
Egyptians, to Ra, (Helios), the southernmost to the Theban or
Upper-Egyptian Ammon, and the northern one to the Memphite, or
Lower-Egyptian Phtha. To the same gods, this Ramses had also dedicated
the three celebrated rock-temples in Nubia, Gerf Hussên, Sebûa and Derr;
no doubt because he believed them to be the three principal representers
of Egypt. On the middle stele the inscription begins under the
representation with the date of the 2nd Choiak, of the fourth year of
the reign of King Ramses. The Ammon’s stele, on the contrary, was of the
second, or (if the two marks were bound together at the top) of the
tenth year’s date; under any circumstances, of some other date than the
middle stele,--whence it might be concluded that all three
representations referred to different campaigns.

We also did not leave unvisited the tomb of St. George, and the church
dedicated to him, near Nahr el Kelb; and as we were going to Berut in
the evening, we turned our steps towards the well where the dragon which
he killed used to drink. Thus on the 26th of November we concluded our
excursion to, and over Libanon, this justly celebrated mountain, on
account of its rich mass of historical reminiscences and rare natural
beauties, of which the poet says, that “it bears winter on its head,
spring on its shoulders, autumn in its lap, but that summer slumbers at
its feet by the Mediterranean.”

APPENDIX.

NOTE A.

(Letter XXXIII., p. 350.)

Since Procopius, in the sixth century, tradition had evermore
exclusively decided the Gebel Mûsa to be the Mount of the Law, without
doubt on account of the church founded at its foot by Justinian. I am
unacquainted with any late travellers or scholars who have doubted the
truth of this. Burckhardt, also, does not do this, although he
conjectured, from the numerous inscriptions at Serbâl, that that
mountain had once been erroneously taken for Sinai by the pilgrims. The
words of this illustrious traveller (Trav. in Syria, p. 609) are as
follows:--“It will be recollected that _no inscriptions are found either
on the mountain of Moses or on Mount St. Catherine_; and that those
which are found in the Ledja valley, at the foot of Djebel Catherine,
are not to be traced above the rock, from which the water is said to
have issued, and appear only to be the work of pilgrims who visited that
rock. From these circumstances, _I am persuaded that Mount Serbal was at
one period the chief place of pilgrimage in the peninsula; and that it
was then considered the mountain where Moses received the Tables of the
Law; though I am equally convinced, from a perusal of the Scriptures,
that the Israelites encamped in the Upper Sinai_, and that either Djebel
Mousa or Mount St. Catherine is the real Horeb. It is not at all
impossible that the proximity of Serbal to Egypt may at one period have
caused that mountain to be the Horeb of the pilgrims, and that the
establishment of _the convent_ in its present situation, _which was
probably chosen from motives of security, may have led to the
transferring of that honour to Djebel Mousa_. At present neither the
monks of Mount Sinai nor those of Cairo consider Mount Serbal as the
scene of any of the events of sacred history; nor have the Bedouins any
tradition among them respecting it, but it is possible, that if the
Byzantine writers were thoroughly examined, some mention might be found
of this mountain, which I believe was never before visited by any
European traveller.”

At a later period, the excellent travels of E. Robinson form a decided
epoch in our acquaintance with the peninsula, as well as with Palestine.
With reference to the position of Sinai, he mentions, for the first
time, the favourable vicinity of the great plain of Râha to the north of
Gebel Mûsa, on which the camp of the people of Israel would have had
plenty of room (Palestine, vol. i. pp. 144, sqq.). In defining the
position of the actual Mount of the Law, he departs from the previous
tradition, and endeavours to prove that Moses had not ascended the Gebel
Mûsa, but the mountain ridge rising over the plain from the south, which
is now called Horeb by the monks, and the highest peak of which is named
Sefsâf (vol. i. p. 176). Unfortunately, he has not visited Wadi Firân
and the adjoining Serbâl. In a later essay (Bibl. Sacra, vol. iv. No.
XXII. May, 1849, pp. 381, sqq.) the learned author returns to the
question in respect of my hypothesis, with which he had become
acquainted, and opposes to it his already published arguments for Gebel
Sefsâf. He comprehends this under three points, which he particularizes
from the Mosaic history, and which must therefore also be mentioned
here:--“1. A mountain-summit, overlooking the place where the people
stood. 2. Space sufficient, adjacent to the mountain, for so large a
multitude to stand and behold the phenomena on the summit. 3. The
relation between this space where the people stood and the base of the
mountain must be such, that they could approach and stand at the nether
part of the mount; that they could also touch it, and that further
bounds could appropriately be set around the mount, lest they should go
up into it, or touch the border of it.” The first of these three points
would militate rather against Gebel Mûsa than Serbâl. Robinson says that
the latter is excluded by the second and third points. As to the second,
I will only call to mind that the encampment of the children of Israel
is not otherwise described than at all their earlier stations. If,
therefore, the idea of a camp was to be carried out so exclusively as
that writers should be solicitous about _space_ for the occupation of
so large a people, it would be necessary to find a plain of Râha for all
former stations, particularly at Raphidîm (which, according to almost
general belief was situated at the foot of Serbâl). As there was a
somewhat lengthy stay at that place, Moses was visited by Jethro, and by
his advice divided the whole people into divisions of ten men each, and
organized them methodically; from which we must conclude that there was
a certain local position for all. Whoever thinks of a mass of two
millions,--therefore about the number of the inhabitants of London or
the whole of modern Egypt--encamped in tents (of which they would have
required one for each ten persons, therefore 200,000), as in a
well-ordered military camp, to him even the plain of Râha would appear
much too small; but whoever allows that but a proportionately small
number could group themselves round the principal quarter of Moses, and
that all the rest would seek the shady places and caves of the rocks, he
will be able to understand the camp of Wadi Firân as easily as at any
other place. Wadi Firân also offers--even if we only think of its most
fruitful portion, which must have been the most inviting for
repose--down as far as El Hessue, in connection with the broad Wadi
Aleyât, just as much extent, and, at any rate, a far more inhabitable
space for a connected camp than the plain of Râha. Indeed, if minute
particulars allow of any deductions, such position of the camp would
make it more understandable, why the people were led out of the camp
toward God to the foot of the mountain in Wadi Aleyât. The command not
to ascend the mountain, which is given more expressly in the words that
no one was to touch the ends of the mount, suits any mountain that rises
before the eye, and is closed in by bushes. Just behind the bushes is
the end of the mountain. Robinson refers to my own map of Serbâl as to
this last point, and also the description of the Wadi Aleyât by Bartlett
(Forty Days in the Desert, pp. 54-59). But it would be difficult to
prove, from my sketch-map, that the people could not stretch out at the
foot of the mountain; and Bartlett seems also to be of my opinion. As
this traveller, so well known by his excellently-illustrated, and as
sensible as interesting, descriptions of countries, is just one of those
few who have seen those localities with reference to the question
agitated by me, without previously formed opinions, the citation of the
place referred to by Robinson would be more fitting here, and the rather
as I cannot bring forward the principal points of the argument in a
better manner. I may remark that italicised passages are mine, the wide
words were originally emphaticised by the author:--

He says (p. 55): “If we endeavour to reconcile ourselves to the received
but _questionable system_, which seeks to accommodate the miraculous
with the natural, _it is impossible_, I think, _not to close with the
reasoning advanced in favour of the Serbal_. There can be no doubt that
Moses was personally well acquainted with the peninsula, and had even
probably dwelt in the vicinity of Wadi Feiran during his banishment from
Egypt, but even common report as to the present day, would point to this
favoured locality _as the only fit spot_ in the _whole range of the
Desert for the supply_, either _with water or such provisions as the
country afforded_, of the Israelitish host: on this ground, alone, then,
he would be led irresistibly to fix upon it, when meditating a long
sojourn for the purpose of compiling the law. This consideration derives
additional force when we consider the supply of wood, and other
articles, requisite for the construction of the tabernacles, and which
can only be found readily at Wadi Feiran, and of its being also, in all
probability, from early times, a place visited by trading caravans. But
if Moses were even unacquainted previously with the resources of the
place, he must have passed it on his way from the sea-coast through the
interior of the mountains; and _it is inconceivable that he should have
refused to avail himself of its singular advantages for his purpose_, or
that the host would have consented, without a murmur, to quit, after so
much privation, this fertile and well-watered oasis for new perils in
the barren desert; or that he should, humanly speaking, have been able
either to compel them to do so, or afterwards to fix them in the
_inhospitable unsheltered position of the monkish Mount Sinai, with the
fertile Feiran but one day’s long march in their rear_. Supplies of
_wood_, and perhaps of _water, must, in that case, have been brought, of
necessity, from the very spot they had but just abandoned_. We must
suppose that the _Amalekites_ would oppose the onward march of the
Israelites, _where they alone had a fertile territory_ worthy of being
disputed, and from which Moses must, of necessity, have sought to expel
them. If it be so, then in this vicinity and no other we must look for
Rephidim, from whence the Mount of God was at a very short distance. We
seem thus to have _a combination of circumstances which are met with
nowhere else_, to certify that it was here that Moses halted for the
great work he had in view, and that the scene of the law-giving is here
before our eyes in its wild and lonely majesty. The principal objection
to this is on the following ground, that there is no open space in the
immediate neighbourhood of the Serbal suitable for the _encampment_ of
the vast multitude, and from which they could _all of them at once_ have
had a view of the mountain, as is the case at the plain Er Rahah, at
Mount Sinai, where Robinson supposes, principally for that reason, the
law to have been given. But _it this objection conclusive_? We read,
indeed, that Israel ‘camped _before the mount_’ and that ‘the Lord came
down in sight of all the people’ moreover, that bounds were set to
prevent the people from breaking through and violating even the precints
of the holy solitude. Although _these_ conditions are more _literally_
fulfilled at Er Rahah, yet, if we understood them as couched in general
terms, _they apply, perhaps, well enough, to the vicinity of the
Serbal_. A glance at the view, and a reference to this small rough map
[here follows a sketch of the plan] will show the reader that the main
encampment of the host must have been in Wadi Feiran itself, from which
the summit of the Serbal is only here and there visible, and that it is
by the lateral Wadi Aleyal that the base of the mountain itself by a
walk of about an hour is to be reached. It certainly struck me, in
passing up this valley, as a very unfit, if not impracticable, spot for
the encampment of any great number of people, _if they were all in
tents_; though well supplied with pure water, the ground is rugged, and
rocky, towards the base of the mountain awfully so; but still _it is
quite possible that a certain number might have established themselves
there, as the Arabs do at present_, while, as on other occasions, the
principal masses were distributed in the surrounding valleys. I do not
know that there is any adequate ground for believing, as Robinson does,
that because the people were warned not to invade the seclusion of the
mount, and a guard was placed to prevent them from doing so, that
_therefore the encampment itself_ pressed closely on its borders.
Curiosity might possibly enough lead many to attempt this even from a
distance, to say nothing of those already _supposed to be located_ in
the Wadi Aleyat, near the base of the mountain, to whom the injunction
would more especially apply. Those, however, who press closely the
literal sense of one or two passages, should bear in mind all the
difficulties previously cited, and the _absolute destitution of verdure,
cultivation, running streams, and even of abundant springs, which
characterise the fearfully barren vicinity of the monkish Sinai_, where
there is indeed room and verge enough for encampment, _but no resources
whatever_. If we take up the ground of a _continual and miraculous
provision for all the wants of two millions of people_, doubtless they
may have been subsisted there as well as in any other place; _otherwise
it seems incredible_ that _Moses_ should ever have abandoned a spot,
offering such _unique advantages as Feiran_, to select instead _the most
dreary and sterile spot in its neighbourhood_.”

This was the clearly felt, and unhesitatingly expressed impression that
the companionship of those places with the Biblical narrative made upon
a man, who yet finally remains in doubt, whether, notwithstanding all
the cited grounds, it would not be better to follow the other “systems,”
according to which the whole is regarded as an uninterrupted wonder from
beginning to end, if it indeed be not so called in the Bible (see p. 19
of Bartlett’s work), in which case all the researches into the human
probability of that great historical event become meaningless. The
author then proceeds to some specialities, which he only mentions as
such, in which he departs from my feeling, as he places the attack of
the Amalekites farther down the valley towards El Hessue. The many ways
in which such specialities can be explained, only point out the fact to
us, that the general bearing of the most important circumstances of the
question can alone produce positive conviction, and that where those are
concerned the objections arising from the petty variations must recede.

Soon after Robinson, in 1843, Dr. John Wilson travelled through
Palestine and the Petraïc peninsula, and published his comprehensive
work on the subject (“The Lands of the Bible,” 2 vols., Edinburgh,
1847). Though he does not approach in the most remote degree the high
position of his learned predecessor, I cannot but coincide in some
remarks which he throws out against Robinson’s hypothesis, that the
Sefsâf is the Mount of the Law (vol. i. pp. 222, sqq.). He again shows
its connection with the tradition of Gebel Mûsa. In Serbâl, on the
contrary, he believes he identifies the Mount Paran of the Bible (p.
199), an idea which could only be entertained if the name of Mount Paran
was found to be another denomination of Sinai, and the latter be also
identified with Serbâl. At the conclusion of the second volume (pp. 764,
sqq.), the author adds a note, in which he defends himself from my
contrary opinion concerning the position of Sinai. The most important
reasons, however, which I have everywhere placed in the foreground, he
does not at all touch upon, but only enlarges on specialities, some of
which could easily be confuted, and the rest not bearing on the
principal question. He places Daphka, not even mentioned in the
principal history, and, therefore, certainly less considerable, in Wadi
Firân, and Raphidîm, “the resting places,” in the bare sandy Wadi
e’Sheikh, because there is _no_ water there. But in that case, to use
his own weapons, where is the fountain of Moses? “Few in the kingdom of
Great Britain, at least,” says the author, “will be disposed to
substitute the Wadi Feiran, with clear running water, for Rephidim,
where there was no water for the people to drink.” I believe he does his
countrymen wrong, if he considers them to diverge so generally from the
almost univoce traditions, and to consider the feelings of learned
fathers of the church, who place Raphidîm in Firân, and take the
fountain there for the Fountain of Moses, as a rationalistic explanation
of it; and, besides H. Bartlett, several others of his countrymen, among
whom I particularise Mr. Hogg (see below for a notice of his essay), the
Rev. Dr. Croly, and the author of the Pictorial Bible, have expressly
declared in favour of my opinion. If he mean to say I had overlooked the
fact that the wilderness of Sin, and the wilderness of Sinai, signified
two different things, I will refer him to p. 47 of my work, where the
contrary is distinctly stated. The words, “out of the wilderness of
Sin,” I have also not left unnoticed (p. 39), as little as it was done
by Eusebius and St. Jerome, who also allow the wilderness of Sin to
stretch as far as that of Sinai. The strife with Amalek, as it is
related in Exodus, gives the impression of a general and stubborn fight;
that the principal attack in front was supported by an attack in the
rear, as it is added in Deuteronomy xxv. 18, is not contradicted; the
double attack, too, seems to be alluded to there in the words
[Illustration: Hebrew] ἀντέστη σοι έν τῇ ὁδῷ, καὶ ἔκοψε σου τὴν
οὐραγίαν.[157] Near Elim twelve springs [Illustration: Hebrew] not
wells, are named; but this does not change the matter here, as twelve
running springs, like those in Wadi Firân, cannot be thought of, but as
the author (vol. i., p. 175) himself remarks, only standing ground
waters, which must be dug out, and, therefore, in fact, wells. The great
number of these is alone important, from which the size of the place can
be calculated. The Sheikh Abu Zelîmeh I was well acquainted with, but
that would not hinder a connection of the word with the place, although
I do not lay the slightest stress on such coincidences.

The author does not bring forth other grounds, which he believes would
militate against my opinion; these may, perhaps, have touched the
principal points of the whole question, which were still unconfuted.
Perhaps the author may now find it necessary to add them with respect to
the investigations of a countryman of his, Mr. John Hogg, who took up
the inquiry first in the _Gentleman’s Magazine_, March, 1847, and then
in the transactions of the Royal Society of Literature, second series,
vol. iii. pp. 183-236 (read May, 1847, January, 1848); subsequently
extending it considerably under the title of “Remarks and Additional
Views on Dr. Lepsius’s proofs that Mount Serbal is the true Mount Sinai;
or the Wilderness of Sin; on the Manna of the Israelites; and on the
Sinaitic Inscriptions.” This learned writer collates the earliest
traditions, and seeks to prove from them that, before the time of
Justinian, they referred to Serbâl, and not to Gebel Mûsa. Indeed he
seems to have succeeded, and we shall return to the question hereafter.

Since that time the comprehensive and masterly work of my honoured
friend Carl Ritter: _Vergleichende Erdkunde der Sinai-Halbinsel, von
Palästina und Syrien, erster Band_, Berlin, 1848--(Comparative Geology
of the peninsula of Sinai, of Palestine, and Syria, volume one),--has
appeared. The exhausting use and employ of all sources from the oldest
down to the most recent, for an as grandly conceived, as
circumstantially executed, general picture of the peninsula in its
geographical relations and in the relative history of its population,
has also not left the question under discussion, in which history and
geography are in closer connection than in any other, unillustrated.
Sinai is for the peninsula what Jerusalem is to Palestine, and it is
ascertained that the building of the church at Gebel Mûsa, in the sixth
century, brought about by the belief that it was founded at the place
where the Law was given, caused the historical centre of the
peninsula,--which formerly was undoubtedly identical with the city of
Pharan and its palm-forest, as the natural geographical centre,--to be
parted from it, and removed several days’ journey further south; just as
certain must the determination of the question, whether a _first_ or
_second_ parting of the historical and geographical centre could be of
considerable influence in the exposition of the earliest history of the
peninsula, and could even exercise some influence on the future tone,
not only of Sinaitic literature, but even on some of the relations of
the place itself which not unfrequently subject, to some extent, the
destinations of the continually increasing number of travellers.
Ritter’s work, of course, had at once to choose one of the two opinions.
And, naturally, after the final examination of the considerable previous
works, the new opinion which first stepped forth against the view
undoubted for a thousand years, and accepted by all the later
travellers, in an incidental form, in a necessarily imperfect report of
a journey, could make the less demand for preference, as it was not
critically examined in any way, nor taken into consideration by later
travellers. I know how to value the equally careful as impartial
recognizing examination which Ritter has given in his work to the
grounds in favour of Serbâl being Sinai.

This he does at pp. 736 seq. Here he at once rebuts the opinion, that
the tradition of the convent on Gebel Mûsa, only known to us since the
sixth century, can decide anything; “the tradition of the still more
ancient convent of Serbâl, and the Serbâl-city of Wadi Firân, it might
be said, was just as much existing, and has only been lost, as far as
we are concerned.” Therefore, other grounds taken from nature and
history ought to vouch for it. Then he brings up the opinion of
Robinson, who places Raphidîm in the upper part of the Wadi e’ Sheikh,
but forcibly instances against it, that it would then have been visited
and mentioned on the continuation of the journey, and in another place
just as appositely, that one cannot, in that case, understand how the
people could have grumbled about water, only one day’s journey beyond
the well-watered Firân, while this is easily explained on the long way
from Elim to the vicinity of Firân. Ritter therefore takes, with me and
the old tradition, the curious brook of Firân to be the fountain of
Moses. He only objects that, if Moses struck the fountain from out of
the rocks, it must have been at the beginning, not at the end of the
present rivulet, and he therefore places Raphidîm in the uppermost part
of the Wadi Firân, the fertility of which could not have existed before
the fountain was made. As to the situation of the Mount of the Law, he
declines at present to pledge himself to any distinct decision. “We
see,” he says, “already in the almost contemporaneous historians, Jerome
(Procopius?) and Cosmas, the variation of opinion concerning these
localities, _of which no one appears definitely settled before another,
even in the latest double views by according and sufficient grounds, to
us at least_. As both these modes of explanation of a text so obscure in
topographical matters, as a but imperfectly known locality, can only use
_hypothetical probabilities_, as briefly for a more certain explanation;
so let it be permitted to state _our hypothetical view_ on this probably
never-to-be quite settled matter.”

This is to the effect that _the_ “Mountain of God,” where Moses was
encamped, when he was visited by Jethro in Raphidîm, “_could not in any
case be the convent Mount of Sinai, (i. e. Gebel Mûsa,)_ although this
is so named at a subsequent period, as that of the true God, _from which
one was then in every case far distant, but might indeed_ be a
denomination of the high, much nearer _Serbâl_, as one was yet in camp
at Raphidîm.” He, too, perceives an _interruption of the connection_ at
the beginning of the nineteenth chapter with the previous chapters, but
seeks for the cause in _a chasm_ in the text, while I would rather
perceive a short _interpolation_. In this chasm falls the departure of
the people from the valley of Firân for the upper Sheikh valley and to
that of Gebel Mûsa, the true Sinai. This was first simply “the
mountain,” (Exodus, xix. 2,) and only obtained the name of a “Mountain
of God,” _after_ the giving of the law (which, however, is already
contradicted by the next following verse, xix. 3), while Serbâl might
have received the denomination of “Mountain of God” from a heathen idol
there worshipped.

“Both mountains, the Mount of God (Serbâl) in Raphidîm, and the Mount in
the desert of Sinai, are therefore just as various in name, as they are
separated by the last journeys between both camps.” The general features
of nature round about Gebel Mûsa, he considers more fitting for a longer
stay of the people on account of the greater security, coolness, and the
Alp-like pasture land. Only the name Horeb, already comprehended in
Raphidîm, could be an objection, yet there seems to him to be no
sufficient grounds existing, why this name, already considered as a
general term by Robinson, Hengstenberg, and others, should not be
extended to the outer ranges of Serbâl.

The acceptation of _two_ mountains of God, Serbâl and Gebel Mûsa, is, as
far I can tell, here attempted for the first time. It is certainly, the
_necessary, only not yet enounced consequence, for all those who place
Raphidîm in Firân_. In this there seems to me to lie an evident proof
with reference to the critical examination of the text, that both
mountains are again to be found in _Serbâl_. The greater security of the
plain of Râha would not be very high for a “harnessed” (Exodus xvi. 18,)
host of 600,000 men, after they had taken a firm footing, and Serbâl
would also have always offered a safe place of retreat. The cold in the
lofty mountains, causing water to freeze (Ritter, p. 445-630) in
February in the convent (5,000 feet above the sea), according to Rüppell
and Robinson, would alone have made an open camp on the plain of Râha
impossible during the winter, for a population accustomed to the
Egyptian climate, to the vegetation of those districts, which is
certainly differently described by the different travellers; the thought
there is no doubt of the Israelites having at one period been there, may
partially have induced several to accept more shrubs in the
neighbourhood than they actually saw at the time, partly there, no
question that the season of the year may make some difference; I
therefore willingly observe, that I visited the peninsula at about the
same season of the year in which, according to the Mosaic account, the
Israelites came thither.

Finally, Ritter has again spoken upon the Sinai question in a more
popular essay: “The Sinaitic Peninsula, and the Route of the People of
Israel to Sinai,” in the _Evangelischen Kalender_, for 1852, edited by
F. Piper, pp. 31, sqq. Here, too, he places Raphidîm in Firân, and
perceived the mountain of God at Raphidîm, in Serbâl. Against the
identity of Serbâl and Sinai, he brings these two chief objections. As
it has now been perfectly settled that the so-called Sinaitic
inscriptions are of heathen origin, and prove Serbâl, to which they
chiefly point as the “centre of an ancient worship,” this remarkable
mountain could not be “a mountain of Jehovah, if it were already a
sacred mountain of the idolaters” (p. 51). And further on (p. 52):--“The
holy mountain of Israel did not lie in the territory of Amalek, like
Serbâl, but in the east and south parts of the territory of Midian,” for
it is expressly said in Exodus (iv. 19):--“And the LORD said unto Moses,
_in Midian_, Go, return into Egypt,” in order that they should sacrifice
to him on these mountains, Horeb and Sinai, in Midian (Exodus iii.
1-12).” Of these two points, however, the first seems to me a very
important argument _for_ Serbâl-Sinai. Serbâl was also a holy mountain
for the tribes in the peninsula at a later period, as it is not called
“Idol Mountain,” _before_ the giving of the Law, but “Mountain of God”
(Exodus iii. 1, iv. 27, xviii. 5), just as it was _after_ the giving of
the Law (Exodus xxiv. 13; 1 Kings xix. 8), and a subsequent
appropriation of the mountain to a heathen worship is much less
remarkable. No reason is to be found, however, in the fact, that when
the Lord spoke to Moses he lived in Midian with Jethro, to warrant the
placing of the mountain of the Law in Midian, for that it nowhere said.
We only know, that Raphidîm, where Jethro visited Moses from Midian, lay
in the territory of the Amalekites, as they here made the attack.
Eusebius, who (_s. v._ Ῥαφιδίμ) expressly refers Raphidîm and Choreb to
Pharan, says (_s. v._ χωρήβ) that this mountain of God lay in _Madian_.
Also in _Itinerar. Antonini_, c. 40, Pharan is placed in _Madian_.

Would that these observations, in which I believe I have touched upon
almost all the more important grounds of their esteemed author, may
prove to him, how high a value I set upon each of his opinions, as those
of a more competent judge in this field of research than any other.
Ritter’s long, well-known tact for the truth in such questions would
have caused me to have less faith in my own view than all the grounds he
produces, which are generally to be confuted, as it appears, if I had
not in _this_ case the advantage of a personal inspection of the
localities, unprejudiced by any former opinion, which could make it less
independent of former writers, than it is possible for him to have.

NOTE B.

(Letter XXXIII. p. 354.)

Robinson gives the distances from Ayûn Mûsa to the crossing point of
Wadi Shebêkeh, and Wadi Taibeh (vol. iii. Part II. p. 804); these
correspond tolerably well with Burckhardt (pp. 624, 625), who continues
the distances up to Wadi Firân; these last, if we take his round across
Dhafari into consideration, are confirmed by my own. The calculation in
Robinson (p. 196), however, does not comprehend the four or five hours’
longer way round from the convent, through Wadi e’ Sheikh; for
Burckhardt went over the Nakb el Haui in eleven hours to Firân, while we
required sixteen, subtracting the little way through the Ktesse valley.
From this the distances are thus proportioned:--From Ayûn Mûsa to Ain
Hawârah, eighteen hours and thirty-five minutes; thence to Wadi
Gharandel, two hours, thirty minutes (not an hour and a half to two
hours, as it is calculated in the text, from the camp of Robinson); to
the end of the valley, near Abu Zelîmeh, seven hours, twelve minutes;
thence to the sea, one hour; to Wadi Shellâl four hours, fifteen
minutes; to Firân, thirteen hours, forty-five minutes; to the convent,
sixteen hours. The camp in the Wilderness of Sin, Robinson cannot refer
more to the south than to the end of the Wadi Shellâl; because the
people, according to him, here left the Wilderness of Sin, as
necessarily Alus falls with him beyond Firân. On the other hand,
according to my opinion, the camp at the sea is not only not different
from that at the entrance of the valley near Abu Zelîmeh, but the
Wilderness of Sin of Exodus, which reached to Sinai, and ended with
Raphidîm, is also the same with the two stations, Daphka and Alus, in
Numbers, and therefore should have no more been mentioned at the latter
place as particular camp stations than the Red Sea. The Wilderness of
Sin comprehended, accordingly, like the Wilderness of Sur, three days’
journey. The stations and their distances may be thus reckoned:--

According to Robinson:--

I. 6 hours 12 minutes } three stations from Ayûn
II. 6 “ 12 “ } Mûsa to Ain Hawârah =
III. 6 “ 12 “ } Marah.
IV. 2 “ 30 “ to Wadi Gharandel = Elim.
V. 8 “ 12 “ to the sea.
VI. 4 “ 15 “ to Wadi Shellâh, = Desert of
Sin.
VII. 7 “ -- “ } two stations to Firân = Daphka
VIII. 7 “ -- “ } and Alus.
IX. 8 “ -- “ } two stations to the plain of Râha
X. 8 “ -- “ } = Raphidîm and Sinai.

According to my researches:--

I. 7 hours -- minutes } three stations to Wadi Gharandel
II. 7 “ -- “ } = Marah.
III. 7 “ -- “ }
IV. 7 “ 12 “ to the end of the valley near
Abu Zelîmeh = Elim.
V. 6 “ -- “ } three stations to Firân, _i.e._ by
VI. 6 “ -- “ } Daphka and Alus to Raphidîm
VII. 6 “ -- “ } at Sinai.

That the last stations are somewhat shorter than the first, may be
understood from the greater difficulties of the way. Why had the people
murmured, so near to the twelve springs of Elim? How could the
particularly long journey of more than eight hours from Elim to the sea
have passed without being mentioned? And how could the day’s journey
have become continually longer in the high mountains and heavy ground?

NOTE C.

(Letter XXXIII. p 364.)

The commentators on this passage take the words [Illustration: Hebrew]
“In the third month,” as if it were written: “On the first day of the
third month,” and thus make the succeeding words, “on this day,” also
relate to the _first_ day of the month. _Vide_ Gesenius, _Thesaur._ p.
404, b.:--“_tertiis calendis post exitum_,” and p. 449, b.:--_tertio
novilunio_, i.e. _calendis mensis tertii_. Ewald, _Gesch. des v.
Israels_, vol. ii. p. 189:--“_The day (?) of the third month (which is,
however, of the new moon, therefore the first day)_.” But the Seventy
did not understand it thus, in any case, as they translate:--“τοῦ δὲ
μηνὸς τοῦ τρίτου τῇ ἡμέρᾳ ταύτῃ.” The Jewish tradition seems also not to
have taken its meaning thus, as the Jews celebrated the Giving of the
Law, which, according to Exodus, xix. 11, 15, occurred on the third day
after their arrival, upon the fifth or sixth day of the third month,
together with that on the fiftieth day after the harvest-feast
(Leviticus, xxiii. 15, 16), subsequent to the Exode, according to which
the arrival at Sinai must fall on the _third_ day of the third month. It
is not to be understood how [Illustration: Hebrew] without any suffix
should be used for “new-moon day,” though it has lost that analogical
meaning in all the different places, and only signifies _month_, even in
such places where the “day of the new moon” is intended (such as Exodus
xl. 2, 17; Numbers i. 1; xxxiii. 38), where it is particularly added
[Illustration: Hebrew] “on the first (day) of the month,” against which
passages like Numbers, ix. 1, and xx. 1, cannot be produced, because
there is as little ground to understand the _first_ of the month, as in
Exodus xix. 1, and the Seventy do not translate ἐν ἡμέρᾳ μιᾷ, or
νουμηνίᾳ, as in the other passages, but only as the simple sense of the
words is:--“ἐν τῷ μηνὶ τῷ πρώτῳ”. There would only thus remain one
passage, xix. 1, from which one might conclude such an ambiguous use of
[Illustration: Hebrew], because here certainly the following words, “on
_this_ day,” point to a certain single day which is not, however, now to
be guessed from our text. But this, in my opinion, is no unimportant
reason for supposing a transposition or a later interpolation of these
two verses. The latter idea is also accepted by Ewald, as he (Gesch. v.
Isr. vol. i. p. 75) refers the narrative xix. 3, 24, to the oldest
source, but not the two first verses. It has been already mentioned that
Josephus (_Ant._ iii. 2, 5), who also does not understand the words as
referring to the _first_ day of the months, transposes the passage, and,
indeed, _to the same place_ whither I, without knowing it, had placed it
in my former report (p. 48), i.e. _immediately after the battle_ of the
_Amalekites_, to which “this day” most naturally refers. If this be
true, the original text also expressed that the Israelites were not only
by Horeb but by Sinai, near Raphidîm in Wadi Firân, where they fought
the battle, _i.e._ that both the holy mountains are one, and that Moses
received the visit of Jethro first at Sinai; and, as it would seem, in
natural course of events, first organized his people at Sinai, with
which, however, it is also said, that Sinai, or Horeb, was no other
mountain than Serbâl.

Granted that we have in this way understood the original connection, no
naming of the month would be necessary; this was probably added at the
isolation of the succeeding section, referring to the giving of the law.
Under these circumstances, there would only be three exact dates for the
whole journey. The people departs from Ramses on the fifteenth day of
the first month in the first year; it proceeds from Elim, half the
distance, and just one month, on the fifteenth day of the second month
of the first year. The resting days at the stations are unknown; but if
it be taken for granted that the people proceeded without staying, it
came to Raphidîm on the third day from Elim, obtained the water on the
fourth, and was attacked by Amalek, fought on the fifth until after
sunset to the beginning of the sixth day, and on the same day (for the
Hebrew day began at sundown) encamped at Sinai. This would have occurred
on the twentieth day of the second month in the first year. Now, as the
departure from Sinai took place on the twentieth day of the second month
of the second year, the stay at Sinai would have been exactly _one
year_. This coincidence was probably originally just as accidental as
the lapse of exactly _one month_ between the first departure from Ramses
and the second from Elim.

NOTE D.

(Letter XXXIII. p. 369.)

There are yet two marble inscriptions in the wall of the convent towards
the garden referring to the founding of the place, one Greek and one
Arabic. Burckhardt (Trav. p. 545) says:--“An Arabic inscription _over
the gate_, in modern characters, says that Justinian built the convent
in the thirtieth year of his reign, as a memorial of himself and his
wife Theodora. It is curious to find a passage of the Koran introduced
into this inscription; it was probably done by a Moslem sculptor,
without the knowledge of the monks.” Certainly the Arabic inscription is
over the little door leading into the garden. But if Burckhardt saw it
here, it is not to be understood how he did not see the Greek
inscription beside it, with a similar border and covering. Robinson did
not see either (vol. i. p. 205). Ricci had copied the Greek inscription,
and it has been printed and translated by Letronne in _Journ. des
Savans_, 1836, p. 538, with a few little variations. But another copy,
which had escaped Letronne, had been published in 1823 by Sir F.
Henniker (Notes during a Visit to Egypt, &c. pp. 235, 236), which is,
however, very inaccurate, though it attempts to give even the manner of
writing. The Arabic inscription has not, as far as I am aware, been made
known at all. I have taken impressions in paper of both, and publish
them here faithfully. The Greek is as follows:--

Ἐκ βάθρων ἀνηγέρθη τὸ ἱερὁν τοῦτο μοναστήριον τοῦ Σιναίου ὄρους, ἔνθα
ἐλάλησεν ὁ Θεὸς τῷ Μωυσῇ, παρὰ τοῦ ταπεινοῦ βασιλέως Ῥωμαίων
Ἰουστινιανοῦ πρὸς ἀἶδιον μνημόσυνον αὐτοῦ καὶ τῆς συζύγου τοῦ Θεοδώρας·
ἔλαβε τέλος μετὰ τὸ τριακοστὸν ἔτος τῆς βασιλείας τοῦ, καὶ κατέστησεν ἐν
αὐτῷ ἡγούμενον ὀνόματι Δουλᾶ ἔν ἔτει ἀπὸ μὲν Ἀδὰμ σκά, ἀπὸ δὲ Χριστοῦ
φκζ.

“This holy monastery was erected on Mount Sinai, where God spake unto
Moses, by the humble king of the Romans, Justinian, unto the everlasting
remembrance of himself and of his wife Theodora. It received its
completion in the thirtieth year of his reign, and he set a governor
over it, Dulas by name, in the year from Adam, 6021, and from Christ,
527.”

Letronne read ἐν ᾦ πρῶτον instead of ἔνθα, and κατέστησε τὸν instead of
κατέστησεν in the seventh line. The characters are those of the twelfth
or thirteenth century. As the Emperor Justinian reigned from 527-565, it
is judged by the writer that the decree for the erection of the convent
and the placing of the abbot Dulas falls in the first year of the
government of the emperor, although the completion of the building is
first placed in the thirtieth year of the same, _i. e._ A.D. 556. The
year of the world 6021 answers to A.D. 527, according to the Alexandrian
era of Pandorus and Anianus.[158]

The Arabic inscription is thus:--

[Illustration: Arabic]

“The convent of the Tôr (mountain) Sinai, and the church of the
conference, the pious king Justianus (instead of Justinianus), of Greek
confession, yearning after God, and hoping for the summons of his Lord,
for a memorial of himself and his wife Theodora against the passing of
time, that God may inherit the earth and what is upon it, for _he is the
best of inheritors_. And the erection was ended after thirty years of
his government. And he set over it a chief, named Dhulas. And this took
place after Adam 6021, which agrees with the year 527 of the era of the
Lord Christ.”

The characters of the inscription certify, according to the information
of the Consul, Dr. Wetzstein, who has kindly undertaken the copying and
translation of the inscription, that they are not of a date previous to
550 of the Mahommedan era, which, therefore, brings us back to the time
in which the Greek inscription was made. The passage of the Koran,
mentioned already by Burckhardt, is in Surât, xxi., v. 18.

In the same wall, but much higher up, over a far greater door, now
bricked up, at a place behind which the kitchen is now lying, another
great stone is let in, the ornament of which [Illustration] might lead
to the supposition that there is another old inscription there.
Unfortunately, it was impossible to have a ladder brought thither, to
examine the stone more carefully. May a later traveller succeed in this!

NOTE E.

(Letter XXXIII. p. 370.)

The history of the palm-wood of Pharan forms the centre-point of the
history of the whole peninsula. The accounts of the Greeks and Romans
give a new proof of this, though their geographical determinations have,
for the most part, been incorrectly apprehended. Thus the Poseidion of
Artemidorus, Diodorus, and Strabo, is generally put at the extremity of
the peninsula now called Râs Mahommed, even by Gosselin, Letroune, and
Groskura, who had certainly perceived the incorrect gloss of the
manuscripts of Strabo (p. 776: τοῦ [Ἐλανίτου] μυχοῦ). As the Poseidion
lay _within_ (ἐνδοτέρω) the Gulf of Suez, and as the _western_ coast of
the peninsula is described, this altar of Poseidion necessarily lay
either at Râs Abu Zelîmeh, the haven of Faran, or at Râs G’ehân, where
there was a more southerly and shorter communication by Wadi Dhaghadeh
with Wadi Firân. That the Palm-grove (Φοινικών) of that author is not to
be found by Tôr, but in the Wadi Firân, has already been rightly seen by
Tuch, (_Sinait. Inschr._, p. 35), although he still places the Poseidion
at Râs Mahommed (p. 37). It was the Serb Bâl--the palm-grove of
Baal--from which the mountain first obtained its name. It appears that
at an earlier date the name of Faran was used with particular reference
to the haven near Abu Zelîmeh, and a Pharanitic colony at the place of
ancient Elim, in the neighbourhood of the present Gebel Hammân Faraûn,
still called Farân by the Arabic historians; while the grove itself was
yet called Serb Bâl by the inhabitants. Probably, also, it was here
where Aristo landed under Ptolemæus Philadelphus, and founded the
Poseidion.

By Artemidorus (in Strabo, p. 776), and Diodorus (III. 42), Mαρανῖται
are mentioned, for which Gosselin, Ritter, Tuch, and others, propose to
read Φαρανῖται. But as the Maranites lived on the _eastern_ coast of the
peninsula, and are reported to have been entirely destroyed by the
Garindœans, I can find no support for this conjecture. The gorge Pharan,
mentioned by Josephus in Judæa (_Bel. Jud._ iv. 9, 4), has no connection
with anything here.

The name of the Pharanites on the _west coast_ of the peninsula first
occurs in Pliny (H. N. xxxvii., 40), for there is no reason to consider
the _Pharanitis gens_, which he places in Arabia Petræa, to be other
than the _Pharanitai_ of Ptolemy. That the northern station Phara
(_circa_ ten hours west of Aila) on the table of Peutinger, has nothing
to do with the Pharanitic palm-grove, has been placed beyond doubt by
Ritter, (p. 147 sq.).

Ptolemy, in the third century, is the first who mentions a _place_
called Pharan (κώμη φαράν); yet the grounds and the connection of _his_
calculations so very different from the true relations of the peninsula,
had remained obscure, so that the single comparison were useless. His
construction of the peninsula is immediately intelligible, if it be
considered that he has evidently taken the obtuse coast-angle at Râs
Gehân,--whither he put Cape Pharan according to his latitudes, instead
of Hammân Farûn,--for the most southern point of the peninsula, whence
the more remote coast again runs up to the north-east. By this the
peninsula becomes 50´ too short, although the longitude of his
promontory agrees with that of the right one. The real point (Râs
Mohammed) now answers to the place whither he places the round of the
Elanitic Gulf (ἐπιστροφὴ τοῦ Ἐλανίτου κόλπου). The whole Elanitic Gulf
(Gulf of Akaba) shrinks with him to a little angle (μυχός) of 15´, as
everything is pushed up too much to the north. The coast, from “the
term” up to Οννη answers in fact to that from Râs Furtak (Diodorus’s or
Artemidorus’s ἀκρωτήριον τῆς ἡπείρου, before which the island of Phoke
lay) to Ἀïn Uneh and the Elanitic Gulf, the northern end of which
(ἐπιστροφή) he placed at 66° longitude, 29° latitude,[159] now takes
the form of the gulf, the undermost point of which is now denoted by Ἀïn
Uneh. The ocean angle of Pharan (μυχὸς κατὰ φαράν) he imagines to extend
from Cape Faran (ἀκρωτήριον φαράν) to the inland city of the same name,
like the angle of Elana, and the inner angle of Heroonpolis to the north
of Arsinoe. From the same construction of the peninsula it came that the
Rhainthenians, who were placed along the same coast by Tôr (even now
called Ῥαιθοῦ) below the Pharanites, had now to be placed on the coast
turned towards Arabia (παρὰ τὴν όρεινὴν τῆς Εὐδαιμονος Ἀραβίas),
therefore on the oriental and not the occidental coast of the peninsula;
and finally, the primary mountain-chain (ὄρη μέλανα) extending from
Faray to Râs Mohammed to Judæa, therefore to the N.E. instead of the
S.E.

From all this it is clear that the place Pharan of Ptolemy is identical
with the recognised Pharan in the Wadi Firân, and the φοινικών of
Artemidorus and Strabo. And it is less to be doubted that also the
Pharan of Eusebius (s. v. Ῥαφιδίμ) and Jerome, which is expressly (s. v.
φαράν) called _a city_ (πόλις, _oppidum_), and is placed at the distance
of three days’ journey from Aila,--was the city in Wadi Firân, although
by a confusion with the Biblical desert of Paran it is added, that the
Israelites had returned by this Pharan on their return from Sinai (c. f.
Ritter, p. 740).

According to the treatise of the monk Ammonius (_Illustr. Chr. Martyr,
lecti triumphi ed. Combefis, Paris_, 1660,--whose history, undoubtedly
fictitious, refers to A.D. 370, but can in no case be used as a
historical authority for that time, but seems to rest on some passages
of the romance of Nilus, and to have been written for a like
praiseworthy purpose,--the city of Pharan was converted to
_Christianity_ in the middle of the fourth century, by the monk Moses, a
native of the city. By Nilus, placed at about 390, but concerning whose
era and writings much uncertainty exists, a Christian council (βουλή) of
the city of Pharan is mentioned (Nili app. quædam, 1539, 4to.) Soon
after, from the first half of the fifth century, Le Quien, but certainly
from sources of very different value (_Oriens. Christ._, vol. iii., p.
571), cites a series of bishops of Pharan, who can be followed up into
the middle of the twelfth century (_vide Reland, Palæst_, vol. ii., p.
220). The monks of the mountains were all subjected to these bishops.

As to what concerns the founding of the present convent at Gebel Mûsa,
it is certainly ascribed to the twelfth or thirteenth year of the
Emperor Justinian, as in the inscriptions, by Saïd ben Batrik
(Eutychius), who wrote about 932-953 (_d’Herbelôt_, s. v.), but he is
contradicted by the much more trustworthy, and here particularly
important testimony of Procopius, the contemporary of Justinian, in the
most express manner. He says, in his particular treatise on the
buildings founded by Justinian (_Procop. ed. Diod._ vol. iii. _de œdif.
Just._ p. 326), that the emperor built a _church_ to the Mother of God,
“not on the top of the mountain, but _a good piece below_ it” (παρὰ πολὺ
ἔνερθεν, which, according to the locality, can only mean on the platform
half way down the mountain, where the chapel of Elias now stands).
Separated from it, he also found at the foot of the mountain (ἐς τοῦ
ὄρους πρόποδα) a very strong castle (φρούριον), with a good garrison, in
order to prevent the incursions of the Saracens from the peninsula to
Palestine. As Procopius just before and after, as in the whole treatise,
makes a careful distinction between convents and churches, and military
posts, it is evident, that according to him, Justinian did not found the
convent with its church. Probably, however, the military fort was at a
later period used as a convent, and built up anew. And the church above,
built by Justinian, was not dedicated, like the present one, to St.
Katherine (_vide Le Quien_, vol. iii. p. 1306), but to Maria. What
Eutychius (cited first by Robinson, though placed by him somewhat too
early in the tenth century) relates, as well regarding the founding of
the convent as in direct contradiction to Procopius, concerning a church
on the _top of the mountain_, is therefore no more worthy of credence
than the conversation between the emperor and the architect. As little
should the convents of Râyeh (near Tôr) and Kolzum (a _bishop_ of
Clysma, named Poemen, was present already at the Constantinopolitan
council of 460; _vide Acta Concil. ed. Harduin_, vol. ii. p. 696, 786),
be ascribed to Justinian, on the authority of Ben Batrik, as in such a
case Procopius would undoubtedly have spoken of it. Pharan is not
mentioned by Procopius. On the other hand, however, he informs us of the
important fact (_de bell. Pers._ 1, 19, 164, _de œdif._ 5, 8), that the
Saracen prince, Abocharagos, reigning there, presented the emperor
Justinian with a great palm-grove (φοινικῶνα), situated in the middle of
the land (ἐν τῇ μεσογαίᾳ). On a more careful examination of that
narrative, there can remain scarcely a doubt, that the palm-grove of
Pharan is intended here, not the place on the sea called φοινίκων κώμη
by Ptolemy (vi. 7, 3), or a palm-grove quite unknown to us, also situate
in the middle of a desolate waterless wilderness. According to Ammonius
and Nilus, the whole population of Pharan was at that time Christian,
and a _church_ was certainly distinguished there; thus the present of
Abocharagos, whom Justinian himself made phylarch of the Palestinian
Saracens, is more easily comprehensible. Without doubt the founding of
the fort in the higher mountains, for the guard against these Saracens,
stood in connection with this.

Next to Procopius, Cosmas Indicopleustes is by far the most trustworthy
source for that time. He was not only a contemporary of Justinian, but
describes (about 540) what he had himself _seen_ in the peninsula.[160]
This work is the only larger geography preserved from that age, and his
unpretending narrative everywhere bears the character of uncoloured
truthfulness. It is more remarkable, that he neither mentions a convent,
nor indeed the localities round Gebel Mûsa, but only Pharan, although he
had the route of the Israelites particularly in view.

That Antoninus Placentinus, who is considered by others to be St.
Anthony martyr, in his _Itinerarum_ (_Ada Sanctor_, May, vol. ii. p.
x-xviii.), which is referred by Ritter to about six hundred, again
speaks of a convent at the Thornbush (Procopius does not mention the
Thornbush), between Horeb and Sinai; therefore, as the place of the
present convent seems to lead us back to the opinion so decidedly
expressed by the learned Papebrook, who first published the Itinerary,
that this so learnedly defended, yet very doubtful, history belongs
first to the eleventh or twelfth century. In any circumstances it would
be desirable to submit the writings of Ammonius, Nilus, Antoninus, and
some other of the productions of the first centuries of Christianity,
to a more searching and connected criticism than has yet been done.

The earliest bishop of Mount Sinai referable to is found in the eleventh
century; this is Bishop Jorius, who died in 1033 (_Le Quien_, vol. iii.
p. 754). The _Phronimus episc. Synnaii_ (_Acta Concil. ed. Harduin_,
vol. iii. p. 53), or (_Synai tunorum_, p. 206), signed at the second
Constantinopolitan Council (_a._ 553), and the _Constantinus ep. Synai_
(_Harduin_, vol. v. p. 927), named at the fourth council (_a._ 870),
have been referred hither incorrectly (Ritter, _Abhand. der Berl. Akad_,
1824, p. 216, _Peninsula of Sinai_, p. 26), as they belong to Synaus or
Synnaus in Phrygia.

NOTE F.

(Letter XXXIII. p. 370.)

That, indeed, an uninterrupted and certain tradition, concerning the
position of Sinai in the peninsula, has been preserved to Christian
times, must be most decidedly questioned. The name Choreb, or Sinai,
seems to have been taken, at a very early period, for the whole of the
mountain region of the peninsula, which was generally considered one
mountain at a distance. No one took any interest in fixing the name to
any geographical idea, until the time of the Christian hermits there. We
only read of Elias, that he fled to the “Mountain of God, Choreb,” and
there went into that cave (1 Kings, xiii. 9), (for it is taken for
granted as known) in which the Lord had already (Exod. xxiii. 22)
appeared unto Moses. The native races of Arabs gradually moved, so that
of the Biblical names none remained in its place. The Greeks and Romans
knew only _one place_ in the whole peninsula, the _palm-grove of
Pharan_, just because this place and its port were alone of any
importance, since the mines of the wilderness had been deserted. Also,
for the Christian hermits--for which that mountain wild, even without
reference to the sacred reminiscences of the place--must have seemed the
most fitted of any region, as it provided them with the more necessary
sustenance with the greatest solitude. Firan must have been the earliest
centre-point; therefore, we also find here the oldest church of the
peninsula. When they gradually commenced to seek more definitely for
Scripture localities, they had no further materials for its discovery
than we possess, with far less power to use these materials properly, as
every sharp criticism to examine the passages of Scripture then lay very
far off. The name Sinai was indefinitely taken for the whole mountain;
if one looked round for any particular peak, that of _Serbâl_ would
instantly present itself. To that, everything which we read in the first
centuries about it in trustworthy writings points, to which, however,
the treatise of the monk Ammonius certainly does not belong, in the
estimation of any one who examines it more narrowly, and the excellent
Romany, of Nilus, is very doubtful. What Josephus (Aut. iii. 5) says of
Sinai (τὸ Σιναῖον), agrees very well with Serbâl, but not at all with
Gebel Mûsa, as Hogg has already shown. According to Eusebius, Choreb and
Raphidîm lay _near Pharan_ (ἐγγὺς Φαράν), and Sinai beside Choreb
(παράκειται τῷ ὄρει Σινᾶ.) Jerome (s. v. _Choreb_) considers both
mountains to be one, which he also places _by Pharan_, and, therefore,
recognises in _Serbâl_. Also, the narrative of Nilus, concerning the
Saracen attack at Sinai, either does not belong to the time in which it
is dated (c. 400), or refers to Serbâl; for often (pp. 38-46) a _church_
(ἐκκλησία) is mentioned, which did not then exist on Gebel Mûsa, and
Nilus goes down, in the same night in which the murdered people were
buried, _to Pharan_, which could not have been done from Gebel Mûsa.
Cosmas Indicopleustes, finally, who travelled in the peninsula about the
year 535, just before the building of the church by Justinian, goes from
Raithu, i. e. Tor, which he takes for Elim, although he finds but _few
palms_ there (the plantations at that place are therefore younger) by
the present Wadi Hebrân to Raphidîm, which is now called Pharan. Here he
was at the end of his Sinai journey. Hence Moses went with the elders
“to the Mountain Choreb,” i.e. Sinai, which was distant from Pharan
about 6,000 paces (one and a half miles), and struck the water from the
rock; here was the ark of the covenant built and the law given, by which
the Israelites obtained writing, and had time to learn it at their
leisure, from which the numerous rock inscriptions come which are still
found in that wilderness, particularly at Serbâl. (Εἵτα κάλιν
παρενέβαλον εἰς Ῥαφιδίν, εἰς τὴν νὔν καλουμένην Φαράν καὶ διψευσάντων
αὐτῶν, πορεύεται κατὰ πρόσταξιν Θεοϋ ὁ Μωϋσῆς μετὰ τῶν πρεσβυτέρων καὶ ἡ
ῥαβδὸς ἐν τῇ χειρὶ αὐτοϋ, εἰς Χωρὴβ τὸ ὄρος, τουτέστιν ἐν τῷ Σιναΐῳ,
ἐγγὺς ὄντι τῆς Φαρὰν ὡς ἀκὸ μιλίων ἔξ.) (Barckhardt [_Trav. in Syr._ p.
611] required when he descended Serbâl, from its foot to west Faran, 2½
hours,) καὶ ἑκεϊ πατάξαντος τὴν πέτραν, ἐῤῥύησεν ὔδατα πολλὰ καὶ ἔπιεν ὁ
λαὸς. Λοιπὸν κατεληλυθότος αὐτοϋ ἐκ τοϋ ὄους προστάττεται ὑπὸ τοϋ θεοϋ
ποιεϊν τὴν σκηνήν, etc. _Topograph. Christ. lib. V._ in the _Coll. nova
patr. ed. B. de Montfaucon tom. ii. p. 195 sqq._

This testimony of the unpretending traveller is just as clear as it is
certain and unsuspicious. In the beginning of the sixth century there
was thus the belief after this eye-witness that the law was given on
Serbâl. Cosmas is in so little doubt about it, that he does not mention
the southern mountain at all. We must also conclude that the monks had
extended themselves over the whole mountain, and particularly over the
guarded region about the Gebel Mûsa. That among the monks of the place
another opinion arose, according to which Moses turned southward,
instead of northward, from the height of Wadi Hebrân (for, to take Elim
for Raithu remained the decided opinion, as preserved by the convent
there) is not at all to be wondered; such confusions are very frequent
in Christian topography. But how narrowly Horeb and Sinai, Raphidîm and
the Mount of the Law, are connected together, is again shown in the
fact, that with Sinai the rock of water went southward. The monks did
not allow themselves to be hindered, by the verses in the beginning of
the nineteenth chapter, from transporting that rock of Raphidîm, and
consequently Raphidîm itself, as also the thorn-bush of Horeb, to Gebel
Mûsa, their new Sinai; there it is yet shown, for the astonishment of
travellers in Wadi Lega (Robinson, vol. i. p. 184). Thus in this point
the unlearned monkish notion that Raphidîm was near Sinai came closer to
the truth than the new criticism.

The Legate of Justinian now found it necessary to erect his castle in
that safe position, and to build a church there, for the hermits living
in the neighbourhood. That this alone was sufficient to draw many new
hermits thither, and to found a new belief as to the position of the
Mountain of the Law, if this were not already there, is quite
comprehensible. But as to how the two opinions in the next following
centuries came together, we have no certain testimony whatever. Under
any circumstances, one would have to take care, if, after the founding
of Pharan, the mountain Sinai is often mentioned, to understand by it
the Gebel Mûsa. As a rule, the whole range of mountains in the peninsula
is intended by it. When, for example, already in the year 536, therefore
probably before the building of the church, at the _Concilium sub Mema_,
at Constantinople, a _Theonas presbyter et legatus S. montis Sinai et
deserti Raitha et S. ecclesiæ Pharan_ (Θεωνῦς ἐλεῷ Θεοϋ πρεσβύτερος καὶ
ἀποκρισίάριος τοϋ ἁγίου ὄρους Σινᾶ καὶ τῆς ἐρήμου Ῥαιθοϋ καὶ τῆς κατὰ
Φαράν ἁγίας ἐκκλησίας. _Harduin_, vol. ii. p. 1281) is signed, the
Church of Pharan would probably be first named as undoubtedly the most
important centre and bishop’s seat, if the monks all around the vicinity
were not looked upon as the more important, and therefore put first. Le
Quien (vol. iii. p. 735) mentions the _Episcopi Pharan sive montis
Sinai_ in one series, and as the earliest with the latter title the
above-mentioned Bishop Jorius (†1033). Since then, and even since
Eutychius (c. 940), the denomination of the single mountain of Gebel
Mûsa as Sinai is certainly undoubted.

INDEX

GEOGRAPHICAL NAMES.

Abahuda, 270.

Abatou, 123.

Abdebab, 146.

Abd el Qurna, 274, 309.

Abdîn, 187.

Abke, 269.

Abu Dôm, 247, 256.

Abu el Abás, 185.

Abu Hammed, 132, 137, 146, 148.

Abu Haras, 132, 178.

Abu Hashîn, 151.

Abu Nugara, 146.

Abu Roash, 35, 64.

Abu Shar, 330.

Abu Simbel, 270.

Abu Tleh, 238.

Abu Zelîmeh, 333, 348.

Abydos, 94, 114.

Acca, 349.

Adererât, 146.

Agamîeh, 88.

Ἀin el Haramîeh, 392.

Aithi, 395.

Akoris, 100.

Alabastron, 113.

Alexandria, 7, 11, 389.

Amâra, 266.

Amarna, 94, 111, 113, 374.

Ambukôl, 259.

Anîve, 274.

Antinoe, 110.

Arbagi, 177.

Argo Island, 262.

Argôusene, 264.

Asasîf, 297.

Assuan, 99, 118.

Assur, 157.

Astaboras, 152.

Atbara, 152.

Atfeh, 13.

Athirib (Athribis), 389.

Axum, 91.

Bachît, 258.

Bahîuda, Desert of, 237.

Bahr bela mâ, 85, 140.

Bahr Jussuf, 82, 87.

Bahr Sherkieh, 85.

Bahr Wardani, 85.

Bâlbek, 407.

Barkal, 245.

Begerauîeh, 156, 160.

Behbet el hager (Iseum), 389.

Belled e’ Nûba, 255.

Bellel, 255.

Benihassan, 94, 107, 110.

Benisuef, 93, 374.

Ben Naga, 160, 162, 165, 213, 217.

Bersheh, 94, 110, 113.

Berut, 394.

Beth el Walli, 124.

Bethin, 392.

Biahmu, 87.

Bigeh, 119.

Bireh, 392.

Birqet el Qorn, 82, 83, 86, 88.

Bisheh, 88.

Blue River, 172.

Britân, 407.

Bsherreh, 414.

Bulaq, 14.

Byblus, 418.

Cairo, 14, 51, 89, 91.

Carmel, 394.

Chartûm, 133, 134, 168, 206, 207, 211.

Chemmis, 113.

Chôreb, or Hôreb, 336, 351.

Chôr el Ammer, 240.

Chôsh e’ Gurûf, 255.

Crôcodilopolis, 88.

Dáhela, 188.

Dahshûr, 64, 90.

Dakkeh, 124.

Dal Hani, island, 156.

Damascus, 400.

Dâmer, 137, 152, 156.

Damietta, 389.

Danqêleh, 231.

Darmali, 255.

Debbet e’ Ramleh, 346.

Debôd, 124.

Dendera, 94, 107, 114, 374.

Dendûr, 124.

Dêr el ahmar, 409.

Dêr el bachît, 304.

Dêr el bahri, 304.

Dêr el medinet, 304.

Derr, 264.

Dimeh, 89.

Dongola (Old), 251.

Dongola (New), 261.

Echmim, 113.

Edfu, 116.

Eileithyia, 115.

El Ἀin, 397.

El Bosra, 112, 113.

El Chôr, 151.

El Elâm, 85, 87.

Elephantine, 119.

El Gôs, 239.

El Guês, 231, 234.

El Hessue, 368.

Elim, 351.

El Kab, 115.

Esneh, 115.

E’ Sûr, 131.

Fadnie, 163.

Faiûm, 69, 88, 90.

Fidimin, 88.

Gabushîe, 217.

Gauâta, 99, 113.

Gebel, 231.

Gebel Adar Auîb, 146.

Gebel Ashtân, 167.

Gebel Abrak, 142.

Gebel Abu Sheqere, 335.

Gebel Barqugrês, 239.

Gebel Buêrib, 162.

Gebel Dochân, 321, 328.

Gebel el Bâb, 140.

Gebel Enned, 331.

Gebel e’ Tih, 346.

Gebel Farût, 146.

Gebel Fatireh, 320.

Gebel Graîbât, 146.

Gebel Hammâm, 333, 355.

Gebel Katherin, 335.

Gebel Lagâr, 165.

Gebel Maqàl, 255.

Gebel Mograb, 146.

Gebel Mûsa, 334.

Gebel e’ Naga, 163, 165.

Gebel Rauiân, 167.

Gebel Roft, 143, 146.

Gebel Sefsâf, 336.

Gebel Selîn, 113.

Gebel Abu Sengât, 146.

Gebel Sergên, 238.

Gebel Abu Sibha, 146.

Gebel Silsilis, 116.

Gebel Um Shômar, 335, 342.

Gebel Zeit, 313, 319, 331.

Ge’ah, 333.

Gedideh, 287.

Geg, 151.

Genna, 157.

Gennin, 393.

Gerashâb, 167.

Gerf e’ Shech, 255.

Gerf Hussên, 125.

Gertassi, 124.

Gezîret el Qorn, 88.

Ghadine, 231.

Gharag, Lake, 89.

Gibraltar, 6.

Gilif, Desert, 237.

Gizeh, 18.

Gôba, 404.

Gomra, Island, 157.

Gôs Basabir, 167.

Gôs Burri, 234, 238.

Goshen, 21.

Haipha, 394.

Haluf, 255.

Hannik, 264.

Hamamât, 318.

Hamdab, 252.

Heliopolis, 17.

Hellet el Bib, 253.

Hellet e’ Soliman, 204.

Hermonthis, 115.

Hieras Kaminos, 125.

Hobi, Island, 162.

Hôreb (Choreb), 336, 351.

Howara, 76.

Ibrim, 270.

Jericho, 392.

Jerusalem, 391.

Illahûn, 69.

Ishishi, Island, 251.

Kalabsheh, 272.

Kamlin, 173, 176.

Karnak, 280.

Kasinqar, 251, 255.

Keli, 233, 234.

Kerak, 396.

Kermân, 393.

Koi, 264.

Kôm el Birât, 308.

Konosso, 119.

Korte, 125.

Korusko, 100, 127, 129.

Kossêr, 319.

Kûeh, 252.

Kummeh, 268.

Kurru, 256.

Labyrinth, 67, 78.

Libanon, 410.

Lisht, 44, 69.

Luqsor, 95, 96, 287.

Lycopolis, 95.

Mágeqa, 241.

Mandera, 132, 172.

Malta, 7.

Mara, 354.

Marûga, 231, 232, 235.

Massani, 255.

Matarieh, 21.

Mechêref, 147, 154.

Medînet el Fairûn, 83, 88.

Medînet Habu, 96, 291, 294.

Medînet Mâdi, 89.

Medînet Nimrud, 89.

Megdel, 395.

Mehendi, 126.

Meidum, 44, 69.

Mekseh, 395.

Memphis, 19, 54, 67.

Melâh, 212.

Méraui, 232, 249.

Meroe, 152, 157, 161, 226, 232, 252.

Mesaurât, 165.

Mesaurât el Kirbegân, 165, 167.

Mesaurât e’ Raga, 165.

Mesaurât e’ Sofra, 165.

Messaid Fountain, 330.

Metamme, 163.

Mitrahinneh, 55.

Mogrân, 152.

Moeris, Lake, 69, 82.

Mosh, 264.

Mundora, 146.

Myos hormos, 330.

Nablûs, 392.

Naga, 160, 162, 165, 233.

Naharîeh, 13.

Nahr el Kelb, 418.

Nakb el egaui, 334.

Nakb el haui, 338.

Napata, 246, 249.

Nazareth, 391.

Nebbi Shît, 406.

Nekleh, 13.

Nesleh, 89.

Noah’s Grave, 396.

Nuri, 243, 245.

Okmeh, 267.

Ombos, 116.

Panopolis, 113.

Pharân, 342.

Philæ, 95, 118, 122.

Philotera, 330.

Pompey’s Pillar, 11.

Primis, 126.

Pselchis, 100, 125.

PYRAMIDS OF
Abu Roash, 25.
Abusir, 51.
Dahshûr, 64.
Gizeh, 18, 32.
Howara (labyrinth), 67, 78.
Illahûn, 69.
Lisht, 44, 69.
Merdûm, 44, 69.
Memphis, 14, 67.
Méroe, 157, 226.
Saqâra, 44.
Zauiet el Arrian, 35.

Qala, 178, 231.

Qasr e’ Salat, 114.

Qasr Qerûn, 89.

Qeneh, 313, 316, 372.

Qirre Mountains, 167.

Qirsh, 272.

Qurna, 96, 104, 270, 294.

Râha, plain, 339.

Raphidîm, 355.

Rigah, 64.

Roda, 36.

Româli, 189.

Rosetta, 120.

Saba Doleb, 183.

Sabagûra, 272.

Sâ el Hagar (Sais), 13.

Saffi, island, 254.

Sagâdi, 157.

Saï, island, 266.

Saida, 394.

Salamât, Sanamât, 292.

Salame, 255.

Salhîeh, 405.

Samanub (Sebennytus), 389.

San, 389.

Saqâra, 44, 51, 62, 67, 74, 77.

Sarbut el Châdem, 345, 353.

Shataui, 270.

Shendi, 162, 163, 213.

Sebastiêh, 392.

Sebûa, 125.

Sedeïnga, 266.

Selajîn, 88.

Selama, 163.

Selûn, 392.

Semneh, 268, 294.

Sennâr, 186, 189.

Serbâl, 334.

Sero, 155, 189.

Sêse, 265.

Sêsebi, 265.

Sin, desert, 335.

Sinai, 336.

Sinai, convent, 334.

Siut, 94, 112, 113.

Soba, 172, 205.

Soleb, 265.

Sorîba, 190, 192.

Suk el Barada, 405.

Sur (Tyre), 394.

Surarîeh, 93.

Surîe Abu Ramle, 211.

Tabor, 393.

Taîba, 203.

Talmis, 124.

Tamaniât, 211.

Tamîeh, 86, 90.

Tanis, 389.

Tanqassi, 156, 256.

Tarablûs, 417.

Teirîeh, 14.

Tel Emdîeh, 397.

Thana, island, near Gorata, in Ethiopia, 91.

Thebes, 93, 114, 274, 277, 279.

Tiberias, 393.

Tifâr, 259.

Tombos, 264.

Tôr, 313, 319, 333.

Tripolis, 417.

Urn Shebah, 243.

Urn Shômar, _v._ Gebel Um Shômar, 342.

Wadi Auateb, 163, 164, 165.

Wadi Abu Dôm, 242.

Wadi Abu Harod, 240.

Wadi Aleyât, 340.

Wadi Bahr Hátab, 141.

Wadi Delah, 141.

Wadi el Arab, 271.

Wadi el Kirbegân, 113, 162, 165, 167.

Wadi el Mehet, 240.

Wadi el Uêr, 240.

Wadi e’ Sheikh, 338.

Wadi e’ Sileha, 165.

Wadi e’ Sofra, 160, 165.

Wadi e’ Sufr, 141, 157.

Wadi Firân, 340.

Wadi Gazal, 243.

Wadi Gaqedûl, 240.

Wadi Gharandel, 354.

Wadi Gûah el âlem, 230.

Wadi Halfa, 100, 108, 134.

Wadi Hebrân, 333.

Wadi Ibrîm, 271.

Wadi Kalas, 242.

Wadi Kenus, 271.

Wadi Maghâra, 335, 353.

Wadi Mokatteb, 344.

Wadi Murhad, 144.

Wadi Nasb, 348, 353.

Wadi Nûba, 271.

Wadi Qeneh, 345.

Wadi Rim, 339.

Wadi Shebêkeh, 353.

Wadi Sebûa, 127.

Wadi Selâf, 339.

Wadi Sich, 346.

Wadi Síqelji, 341.

Wadi Sittere, 346.

Wadi Taibe, 353.

Wadi Teresîb, 162.

Wed Mêdineh, 190, 194, 207.

Wed Negûdi, 183.

White River, 171.

Zachleh, 395.

Zahêra, 417.

Zani, 91.

Zauiet el Arrian, 35, 64.

Zauiet el Meitîn, 107.

Zebedêni, 398.

Zerîn, 393.

Zûma, 257.

PRINTED BY COX (BROTHERS) AND WYMAN, GREAT QUEEN-STREET.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] On the sudden death, soon after our departure from Palestine, of
Bishop Alexander, Gobat was selected by H.M. the King of Prussia as
the Protestant bishop of Jerusalem, which post he has filled with good
success since 1846.

[2] The firman of the Viceroy, with the most unlimited permission
to carry on all excavations that I should think desirable, with a
recommendation addressed to the local governments to support me, was
given to me before my departure from Alexandria. All the work-people
and tools that were necessary for the formation and transportation of
our collection of antiquities, were demanded for wages by the Khawass
given us by the government, under the authority of the firman, from
the Sheîkh of the next village, and nowhere refused. The monuments
from the southern provinces were transported in government barks from
Mount Barkal to Alexandria, and to them were added three tombs from the
neighbourhood of the great Pyramid of Gizeh, which, with the assistance
of the four workmen purposely sent from Berlin, were carefully taken to
pieces, and embarked opposite Old Cairo. At my departure from Egypt,
a written permission was given me to export the collection, and the
articles were formally presented to his Majesty the King of Prussia by
the Viceroy.

These peculiar favours, at a time when all private travellers,
antiquarian speculators, and even diplomatists, were especially
interdicted by the Egyptian government from obtaining and taking away
antiquities, did not fail to gain our expedition some unfavourable
opinions. We were particularly blamed for having a destructive energy,
which, under the ascribed circumstances, would have taken for granted
a species of peculiar barbarism among our company. For, as we did
not, like many of our rivals, dig out and remove the monuments, which
had mostly been hidden below the surface, in haste by night, and with
bribed assistance, but at our leisure, and with the open co-operation
of the authorities, as well as under the eyes of many travellers--every
carelessness with respect to these monuments left behind us, of which
they had formed a part, would have been the more reprehensible, the
easier such carelessness was to be avoided. But on the value of the
monuments, we might esteem ourselves to have a more just judgment
than the greater number of the generality of travellers or collectors
usually possess; and we were not in danger of allowing it to be dulled
by self-interest, as we did not select the monuments for ourselves, but
as the agents of our government, for the Royal Museum at Berlin, and
therefore for the benefit of science and an inquiring public.

The collection, which, principally by its historical value, may be
compared with the most extensive in Europe, was, immediately upon its
arrival, incorporated with the royal collections, without my being
placed in any official connection with it. It is already opened and
accessible to the public. A careful examination of it will conduce more
than anything to place the remarks of later tourists,--among whom there
are even Germans,--in their true light; who have even gone so far, as
in the case of a Herr Julius Braun, in the General Augsburg Journal
(_Allgemeine Augsburger Zeitung_), to ascribe to us the mutilation of
the gods in the temple at El Kab, done 3,000 years ago! Besides, it
would show a total ignorance of present Egyptian relations, or that
which gives the actual interest to the monuments of antiquity, if
any one did not wish to see the as precious as unestimated and daily
destroyed treasures of those lands, preserved in European museums as
much as possible.

[4] [In the first edition of this work I lamented that due care was not
bestowed upon this obelisk, and that “our own property” was abandoned
to the wind and the rain, the sand, and--worse than all--the Arab. Now,
however, I have the satisfaction to be able to state that the Crystal
Palace Company are about to do what our Government, with a surplus of
£1,600,000, could not afford.--K. R. H. M. 2nd edit.]

[5] The diary of this Nile expedition has since been made public under
the title of “Expedition to discover the Sources of the White Nile”
(1840-1841), by Ferdinand Werne; with a preface by Carl Ritter. Berlin,
1848. [The work has since been published in English, under the auspices
of Mr. Bentley, in two volumes.--K. R. H. M.]

[6] Since Ibrahim Pasha’s death, in 1848, viceroy of Egypt.

[7] This treatise, “Report of the River Goshop, and the countries of
Enarea, Caffa, and Doko, by a native of Enarea,” has been translated
by Ritter, read in the Geographical Society of Berlin, on the 7th of
January, 1843, and printed in the monthly reports of that institution,
in the fourth year, pp. 172-188.

[8] At our departure for Upper Egypt we had examined 130 private tombs,
and discovered the remains of 67 pyramids.

[9] See my essay, “_Sur l’Ordre des Colonnes-piliers en Egypte, et ses
rapports avec le second Ordre Egyptien et la Colonne Grecque_ (_avec
deux planches_),” in the ninth volume of the _Annales de l’Institut de
Corresp. Archéol. Rome_. 1838.

[10] See Letter XV., p. 117.

[11] [The _Athenæum_, in a late review of this work, questions the word
“prince,” and proposes to read “son;” now, in a subsequent letter (p.
39), Lepsius himself conjectures that this Prince Merhet was the son of
Cheops, which the reviewer appears to have overlooked in his excellent
remarks.--K. R. H. M.]

[12] [As a further illustration of this scene, but briefly passed over
by the originator of it, the following observations of Mr. Gliddon
will be found very interesting. “Mr. Gliddon hoped, that besides the
day view, the Prussians would add their night scene of New Year’s Eve,
1842, when the blaze of bonfires, lighted on the top of each of the
three pyramids, cast a lurid glare on every side, bringing out the
craggy peaks of the long desecrated mausolea of Memphite Pharoahs,
tinting that drear wilderness of tombs with a light, emblematical
of Lepsius’ vindication of their inmates’ memories, and leaving the
shadows of funereal gloom to symbolize the fifty centuries of historic
night, now broken by the hierologists:--

“‘Dark has been thy night,
Oh Egypt, but the flame
Of new-born _science_ gilds thine ancient name.’”

--Gliddon’s _Otia Egyptiaca_; Lecture II. Burke’s Ethnological Journal,
No. VI. p. 265.--K. R. H. M.]

[13] [The reed; A initial, Bunsen, vol. i. p. 556, Alphabetic No. 3 =
A: the sickle, M Alphabetic No. 2, p. 563 = M: the sieve, χ Alphabetic
No. 1, p. 571 = χ: unknown object, p. 571, with U, the chicken, p. 570
= χU = AMCHU. This will give the uninitiated an idea of the way in
which hieroglyphic words are formed.--K. R. H. M.]

[14] [See Bunsen’s Egypt’s Place in Universal History, vol. i. p.
618.--K. R. H. M.]

[15] [This has been done, and better than in any other museum in the
world, see page 40.--K. R. H. M.]

[16] Unfortunately the colours have now quite faded. The unequal
surface of the stone had rendered it necessary to spread a thick
groundwork of lime over the sculptures ere they could be painted upon;
this lime has peeled off by its transportation and the moist sea air,
so that only the rough sculpture is remaining. In the “Monuments of the
Prussian Expedition,” Part II. Plate 19-22, the colours are faithfully
given, as they were preserved by the covering of sand in their original
freshness.

[17] On our return from the south, two other perfect tombs, besides
this one, were taken down and brought to Europe. All three have been
re-erected, with the rest of the monuments, in the New Museum at Berlin.

[18] [Bunsen, vol. i. p. 618.--K. R. H. M.]

[19] An essay “On the Construction of the Pyramids” was transmitted by
me to the Royal Academy of Sciences, and printed, in accordance with a
decree of the 3rd of August of the same year.--See the Monthly Report
of the Academy in 1843, pp. 177-203, with three plates. [The following
summary of Dr. Lepsius’ discovery, obtained from various sources, may
not be unacceptable to the reader. At the commencement of each reign,
the rock chamber, destined for the monarch’s grave, was excavated, and
one course of masonry erected above it. If the king died in the first
year of his reign, a casing was put upon it and a pyramid formed; but
if the king did not die, another course of stone was added above and
two of the same height and thickness on each side: thus in process of
time the building assumed the form of a series of regular steps. These
were cased over with stone, all the angles filled up, and stones placed
for steps. Then, as Herodotus long since informed us (Euterpe, c.
cxxv), the pyramid was finished from the top downward, by all the edges
being cut away, and a perfect triangle only left.--See, in addition to
Lepsius himself, Letronne, Dicuil, pp. 90-115, 1814; Athenæum, Bonomi,
16th Sept. 1843; J. W. Wild, 15th June, 1844. Wilkinson’s _Materia
Hieroglyphica_, Malta, 1830, p. 14; and last, though not least,
Gliddon’s _Otia Egyptiaca_, Lecture IV. Ethnological Journal, No. VII.
p. 294.--K. R. H. M.]

[20] I have spoken more fully on this subject in my “Chronology of the
Egyptians,” vol. i. p. 294. [See also Vyse, Pyramids of Gizeh, vol.
iii. pp. 118, 119; Letronne, Inst. de l’Eg. vol. ii. pp. 460-466; and
Wilkinson, Modern Eg. and Thebes, vol. i. p. 353.--K. R. H. M. 2nd
edit.]

[21] [See Bunsen’s Egypt’s Place in Universal History (Engl. transl.),
vol. i. p. 515; Ideographics, No. 277.--K. R. H. M.]

[22] [The more extended our acquaintance with ancient monuments or
ancient writings becomes, the more simple and human do we find their
signification to be. It has been the case with Egypt, Assyria, with
Mexico, and indeed with most of those monuments that occur in connexion
with the ancient world, in the popular acceptation of the word. If
mystery and types possess a home anywhere, it must be in India, for
even in Yucatan, the hieroglyphics seem very simple and the reverse
of mysterious, when properly examined, as I hope to prove one day, in
an extended investigation into Mexican antiquities, upon which the
labour of some years has been bestowed. Instead of seeking for such
remote causes, the reader will do well to consider the simple opinion
of Gliddon, in his _Otia_, Lecture VIII. Burke’s Ethnological Journal,
No. IX. p. 395, regarding the origin of animal worship. I should not
have been led to this lengthy note if I did not feel that, while the
earliest tenets of worship were indeed veiled in types (the result,
however, as much of accident as design), animal worship is too recent
to conceal any such mysterious dogmas. I do not wish to place my notion
in competition with that of Lepsius; this is a mere suggestion.--K. R.
H. M.]

[23] [See a lively description of this ceremony in Bayle St. John’s
Village Life in Egypt.--K. R. H. M. 2nd edit.]

[24] [News have just been received from Egypt that most enterprising
excavations have been commenced at Mitrahinneh, partly under the
direction of Mr. A. Harris, of Alexandria.--K. R. H. M. 2nd edit.]

[25] See my essay “On the general employment of the Pointed Arch in
Germany in the Tenth and Eleventh Centuries,” as an Introduction to
H. Gally Knight’s Progress of Architecture from the Tenth to the
Fourteenth Century under the Normans, from the English; Leipsig, 1841;
and my father’s treatise, “The Dome of Naumburg,” by C. P. Lepsius,
Leipsig, 1840 (in Puttrich’s “Monuments of Architecture,” II. pt. 3, 4).

[26] [In Catherwood’s beautiful work on Central America we find that at
some of the cities a peculiar arch was employed. This consisted in an
arch of which the point was destroyed by laying a beam across at the
top. In the Polynesian islands we also find almost perfect approaches
to the pointed arch.--K. R. H. M.]

[27] [Indeed, we learn from Bayle St. John that the Fellahs are not
only contented with this treatment, but proud of the number of times
they have been thus used. It saves money, and that is quite enough
reason.--K. R. H. M. 2nd edit.]

[28] [From the labyrinth and the remains of lake Mœris.--K. R. H. M.]

[29] [About two-pence halfpenny English.--K. R. H. M.]

[30] Evening.

[31] It is to be remarked that even in the “Thousand and One Nights,”
where occasionally æsthetic observations are to be found, there is
nothing relating to music which would lead us to estimate the musical
tastes of the Arabs at any higher standard than that manifested in the
account of Lepsius and others.--K. R. H. M.

[32] Lib. XVII. p. 789, ed. Parisii, 1620.--K. R. H. M.

[33] [See Bunsen’s Egypt’s Place, &c. vol. i. p. 624-5, and also
the comparative lists of Eratosthenes and Manetho at pp. 124, 125
of the same work. “ὃς τὸν ὲν Ἀρσινοἷτῃ λαβύρινθον ἑαυτῷ τάφον
κατεσκεύασεν.”--K. R. H. M.]

[34] Compare my “Chronology of the Egyptians,” vol. i. pp. 262 sqq.

[35] [Bunsen, vol. i. pp. 640-641.--K. R. H. M.]

[36] According to Linant the difference is 22^m, i.e. 70 feet Rhenish.
In June, 1843, Nascimbeni, an engineer of the viceroy, visited us in
our camp by the pyramid of Mœris, being at the time engaged on a new
chart and levelling of the Faiûm. He had only found 2 metres fall from
Illahûn to Medînet, but from thence to the Birqet el Qorn, 75 metres. I
am not aware that anything has been made known regarding these widely
different measures. Sir G. Wilkinson, Modern Egypt and Thebes, vol.
ii. p. 346, states the lake _niveau_ to be about 125 English feet
below the Nile shore at Benisuef. [But see Bunsen’s observation in the
(untranslated) second book of his _Ægypten_, p. 209.--K. R. H. M. 2nd
edit.]

[37] _Mémoire sur le lac Mœris, présenté et lu à Société Egyptienne le
5 Juillet, 1842, par Linant de Bellefonds, inspecteur-général des ponts
et chaussées, publié par la Société Egyptienne. Alexandrie_, 1843, 4to.
See my “Chronology of the Egyptians,” vol. i. p. 262 sq.

[38] The same Domenico Lorda set out again in the same year to
Abyssinia, and transmitted thence six other Abyssinian MSS. to Herr
Lieder, who submitted them to me on my return to Cairo. These were
also purchased for the Royal Library at my suggestion. They contain,
according to the account of Heri Lorda:--

A. _Abusher_, Almanacco perpetuo civile-ecclesiastico-storico.

B. _Settà Neghest_, Codice dell’ imperadore Eeschias.

C. _Joseph_, Storia civile ed ecclesiastica(?)

D. _Beraan_, Storia civile ed ecclesiastica.

E. _Philkisius e Marisak_, Due opere in un volume che trattano
della storia civile.

F. _Sinodus_, Dritto canonico.

[39] [See Bunsen’s Egypt’s Place in Universal History, vol. i. p.
632.--K. R. H. M.]

[40] [Bunsen, vol. i. pp. 400-402. Het-her signifies “the habitation of
Horus.”--K. R. H. M.]

[41] [Bunsen, vol. i. p. 620. Therefore, about the time of
Nitocris.--K. R. H. M.]

[42] [Bunsen, vol. i. p. 624. Coeval with the pyramid of the
Labyrinth.--K. R. H. M.]

[43] [Bunsen, vol. i. pp. 624-625. Ramses is the third king in
Manetho’s twelfth dynasty.--K. R. H. M.]

[44] This letter, addressed to Alexander von Humboldt, has been printed
in the “Preussische Staatszeitung,” of the 9th of February, 1844.

[45] The correction Ἀδελφῆς in this inscription, dated in the
thirty-fifth year of Euergetes (136 B. C.), is of importance to some
chronological determinations of that period. Letronne (_Rec. des
Inscr._ _vol._ i. _p._ 33 _sqq._ 56) assumed that Cleopatra III. the
niece and second wife of Euergetes II., was here mentioned. From
this alone he judged that this king only added the name of his wife,
Cleopatra III., to his own in the official documents, previous to
his expulsion in the year 132 B. C., and therefore placed all the
inscriptions, in which after the King, both Cleopatras, the sister
and the (second) wife are named, in the period after the return of
Euergetes (127-117), e. g. the inscriptions of the obelisk of Philae
(_Rec._ _vol._ i. _p._ 333). In this he is followed by Franz (_Corp.
Inscr._ _vol._ iii. _p._ 285), who places for the same reason the
inscriptions _C. I._ _No._ 4841, 4860, 4895, 4896, between 127 and 117
B. C., although he was aware of my correction of the inscription of
Pselchis (_C. I._ _No._ 5073).

It is always remarkable that only _one_ Cleopatra is mentioned in the
inscription of Pselchis, but as it is Cleopatra II., the first wife
of the king, whom he always distinguishes from his second wife by the
designation of “the sister,” it is not to be concluded that he should
have expressly omitted mention of the latter in the documents from the
beginning of his second marriage. This is confirmed in the decisive
manner by two demotic Papyri of the Royal Museum, in which _both_
Cleopatras are mentioned, although one is of the year 141 B. C., and
the other of the year 136 B. C. All the inscriptions, which, according
to Letronne (_Rec. des Inscr._ _tome_ i. _No._ 7, 26, 27, 30, 31) and
Franz (_Corp. Inscr._ _vol._ iii. _No._ 4841, 4860, 4895, 4896) fall
between 127 and 117 B. C., for this reason, can therefore be referred
with the same probability to the years between 145 and 135 B.C.

[46] [See Bunsen, vol. i. pp. 393-395.--K. R. H. M.]

[47] Compare Letronne _Recueil des Inscription Grecques de l’Egypte_,
_tome_ i. _pp._ 363 _sqq._ Ptolemaeus Eupator is not mentioned by the
historians. The name was first discovered in a Greek Papyrus at Berlin,
written under Soter II. in the year 105 B.C., and indeed foisted in
between Philometor and Euergetes. Böckh, who published the Papyrus
(1821), referred the surname of Euergetes to Soter II. and his wife,
and held Eupator to be a surname of the deified Euergetes II. In the
same year Champollion-Figeac treated of this papyrus, and endeavoured
to prove that Eupator was that son of Philometer put to death by
Euergetes II. on his accession. This view was afterwards accepted by
St. Martin, Böckh, and Letronne (_Rech. pour serv. à l’Hist. de l’Eg._
_p._ 124). In the meantime the name Eupator had been found in a second
papyrus of the reign of Soter II., as also in a letter of Numenius
upon the Phileusian obelisk of Herr Bankes of the time of Euergetes
II. Eupator was named in both inscriptions, but did not stand behind,
but before Philometor, and therefore could not be his son. Letronne
now conjectured (_Recueil des Inscr._ _tome_ i. _p._ 365) that Eupator
was another surname of Philometor. Then, however, it should have been
καὶ Θεοῦ Εὐπάτορος τοῦ καὶ Φιλομήτορος, and not καὶ Θεοῦ Εὐπάτορος
καὶ Θεοῦ Φιλομήτορος. In a letter to Letronne of the 1st December,
1844, from Thebes, which has been printed in the _Revue Archéol._
_tome_ i. _pp._ 678 _sqq._, I informed him that I had also found in
several hieroglyphical inscriptions the name Eupator, and always
before Philometor. The same reasons that I alleged against Letronne’s
interpretation of the Greek name (that portion of the letter was not
printed in the _Revue_), i. e. the simple recurrence of the Θεοῦ, did
also not allow Eupator to be considered another name of Philometor in
the hieroglyphical lists. He must have been a Ptolemy recognized for a
short time as king, but not mentioned by the historians; and as Franz
(_Corp. Inscr._ _vol._ iii. _p._ 285) and Letronne (_Rec._ _vol._ ii.
_p._ 536) have recognized an elder brother of Philometor, who died in a
few months, and was therefore omitted in the Ptolemaic canon.

The son of Philometor and his sister Cleopatra II., however, mentioned
by Justin and Josephus, in which it was formerly thought that the
Eupator of the Berlin papyrus had been found, is particularly mentioned
in the hieroglyphical inscriptions and of the other Ptolemies, in
his place between Philometor and Euergetes, and we thus learn his
name, which the historians had not added. He is sometimes called
Philopator, sometimes Neos Philopator, and is therefore to be referred
to in the series of reigned Ptolemies, as Philopator II. Of fourteen
hieroglyphical lists which come down to Euergetes II., seven mention
Philopator II.; in four other lists in which he might have been
mentioned he is passed over, and these seem all to belong to the
first year of Euergetes II., his murderer, which readily explains the
cause. That he does not appear in the canon is quite natural, because
his reign did not extend over the change of the Egyptian year; but,
as might be expected, he is named in the protocolls of the Demotic
Papyrus, where those Ptolemies receiving divine honours are enumerated,
and in which Young had already properly seen Eupator. In fact, he is
mentioned here in all the lists known to me (five in Berlin of the
years 114, 103, 103, 99, 89 B.C., and one in Turin of the year 89 B.C.)
which are later than Euergetes II., as also in a Berlin papyrus of
the fifty-second year of Euergetes himself (therefore in 188 B.C.).
A comparison of the Demotic lists manifests that the interchange of
the names Eupator and Philometor in the Greek papyrus of the year 105
B.C. (not 106, as Franz, _Corp. Inscr._ _p._ 285 writes), is not only
a mistake of the copyist, as these and similar interchanges are also
not uncommon in the Demotic papyrus. The different purposes of the
hieroglyphic and demotic lists render it comprehensible, that in the
former such variations were not admissible, as in the latter.

[48] Wilkinson (_Modern Egypt and Thebes_, vol. ii. p. 275) considers
this Cleopatra Tryphæna to be the famous Cleopatra, daughter of Neos
Dionysos; Champollion (_Lettres d’Egypte_, p. 110) to be the wife of
Philometor; but the cartouche combined with her name belong neither to
Ptolemæus XIV., the elder son of Neos Dionysos, nor to Ptolomæus VI.
Philometor, but to Ptolemæus XIII. Neos Dionysos or Auletes, who is
always Philopator Philadelphus, on the monuments. Cleopatra Tryphæna
was therefore the wife of Ptolemæus Auletes.

[49] The inscription referred to is in the rock-cave of Echmin, and
was, without doubt, first engraved under Ptolemæus Philadelphus, with
double cartouches and the usual royal titles, but without the surname
of Soter; he is mentioned on a stele in Vienna which was erected
under Philopator. Here, however, he has another cartouche than at
Echmin, and moreover, in a remarkable manner, the same as that which
Philippus Aridaeus and Alexander II., under whom Ptolemæus Lagus was
Viceroy in Egypt, bore before his time. In like manner he is named on
a statue of the king in the ruins of Memphis, where the Horus-name of
the king may be found, and which may probably have been made during
his reign. Finally, the Soters are sometimes only mentioned by their
surnames, at the head of the honoured ancestors of later kings, as in
the inscription of Rosetta, and in the bilingual Decrees of Philae
written [Illustration: hieroglyphs] while Soter II. is always written
[Illustration: hieroglyphs] _p. nuter enti nehem_, which would answer
to the Koptic [Illustration: Koptic], _deus servator_. In the Demotic
inscriptions, too, the first Soters are designated by _nehem_, and in
the singular, by the Greek word _p.suter_.

Although it is not to be doubted that the Soters, who, according to the
Demotic papyrus, had a peculiar cultus with the rest of the Ptolemies,
not only in Alexandria and Ptolemais, but also in Thebes, were looked
upon as the chiefs of the Ptolemaic dynasty, it is more remarkable
that till now no building has been discovered which was erected under
Ptolemæus Soter as king, although he continued twenty years in this
capacity. To this must be added that the above-mentioned hieroglyphic
lists of Ptolemies, without exception, do not begin the series with
Soters, but with the Adelphi, as said at Echmin, his cartouches have no
royal titles, and that in Karnak, under Euergetes II., Philadelphus is
represented as King, and Soter, answering to the same period, not as
king. Also in the Demotic king lists of the papyrus, the Alexandrian
series passes over the Soters down to Philometor, and lets the Adelphi
immediately follow Alexander the Great. The Soters have come before
me at the earliest in a papyrus of the seventeenth year of Philopator
(210 B.C.), the oldest in the Berlin collection; the Thebaic cultus of
the Ptolemies seems to have excluded the Soters altogether. Although,
therefore, the beginning of the royal government in the year 305 B.C.,
as the Canon asserts, is an ascertained fact, and is incontestably
confirmed by the hieroglyphic stele in Vienna, which has been cited for
it by my friend M. Pinder (_Beitr. zur älteren Münzkunde_, _Band_ I.
p. 201) in his instructive essay “On the era of Philippus on coins,”
it seems to authorize another legitimate view, according to which,
not Ptolemæus Logi, but Philadelphus, the eldest king’s son (even
though not Porphyrogenitus), was the head of the Ptolemies. Thus it
may also be explained, that we find under Euergetes I. an astronomical
era employed, that of the otherwise unknown Dionysius, which took its
beginning from the year 285 B.C. the first of Philadelphus, while
the coins of Philadelphus neither count from his own accession, nor
from the year 305 B.C., but from the year of the decease of Alexander
the Great, or the beginning of the viceroyship of Ptolemaeus, as the
beginning point of a new era. (See Pinder, p. 205).

[50] [Manetho in Bunsen, Egypt’s Place, vol i. p. 620. Nitocris is the
last of this dynasty. K. R. H. M.]

[51] _Denkmäler aus Ægypten und Æthiopien_, _Abth._ II. _Blatt._
123-133.

[52] [Bunsen’s Egypt’s Place, vol. i. p, 45. K. R. H. M.]

[53] _Denkmäler_, _Abth._ II. _Bl._ 134.

[54] [I. e., _the cartouches_ of contemporaneous kings.--K. R. H. M.]

[55] [See Bunsen’s Egypt’s Place, vol. i. p. 373, where an account of
this deity is given.--K. R. H. M.]

[56] [This resembles, in fact, the system of calling parishes after
the names of the Saints, to commemorate whose martyrdom the church was
erected; as, for instance, the church and parish of St. Alphege, in the
town of Greenwich.--K. R. H. M.]

[57] [See Bunsen, vol. i. p. 400, for an account of this deity.--K. R.
H. M.]

[58] [Bunsen, vol. i. p. 470. Egyptian Vocabulary, No. 294, and
Determinative sign, No. 58. p. 542, the author there refers to
Champollion, Grammaire, and Rosellini, Monumenti Reali, cxlii. 1.--K.
R. H. M.]

[59] [Bunsen (vol. i. p. 434, n. 333,) says, “The discovery of the
meaning of Harpocrates is mine; but I explained it as Her-pe-schre
(Horus the child), and adopted Lepsius’s correction.” In the text it is
given HER-PA-ΧRUTI.--K. R. H. M.]

[60] _Denkmäler_, _Abth._ IV. _Bl._ 38, 39. A special essay is prepared
on these inscriptions.

[61] The first news of the discovery of this important inscription,
which had also not been noticed by the Franco-Tuscan Expedition, made
some commotion. Simultaneously with the more circumstantial account in
the _Preussische Staatszeitung_, a careless English notice appeared, in
which the discovery of a second specimen of the inscription of Rosetta
was spoken of, and the place assigned was Meroe. Later, when M. Ampère
had brought an impression of the inscription to Paris, the Academician,
M. de Saulcy, contrariwise put forth an argument on the opposite side
asserting that the inscription had some resemblance to that of Rosetta,
and referred it to Ptolemæus Philometer. I therefore took occasion to
prove, in two letters to M. Letronne (_Rev. Archéol._ vol. iv. p. 1
sqq. and p. 240 sqq.) as also in an essay in the Transactions of the
German Oriental Society (vol. i. p. 264 sqq.), that the document in
question was prepared in the twenty-first year of Ptolemæus Epiphanes,
and contained a repetition of the Rosetta inscription, the provisions
of which were extended to Queen Cleopatra I., who had come to the
throne in the meantime.

[62] The name Cleopatra, in place of Arsinoe, in the hieroglyphic
inscriptions appears to rest wholly upon an error of the scribe, which
is avoided in the Demotic, for Arsinoe is here correctly mentioned.
The hieroglyphic text of the inscription of Rosetta is less correct
than the Demotic. [If the hieroglyphic be the _text_, then it is
decidedly the Demotic that is in error. The hieroglyphic seems to have
been engraven first, and in that case it would be the text. Probably,
however, at this late period, Greek was the language in which the
inscriptions of the time were composed, thus the question would lie
not between the hieroglyphic and Demotic, _i.e._ the archaico-Egyptian
(but little understood) and the modern, but between the Greek and the
hieroglyphic modes of expression.--K. R. H. M.]

[63] [It is well to remark the structure of the word [Illustration:
Koptic] Ph-iah-uêb “the field of Jah, or Jao,” as the Rev. Charles
Forster reads the Hamyaritic name of God, in the Wady Mokatteb
inscriptions. It serves as a collateral proof of the Koptic origin
of the language of the inscriptions deciphered by that learned
investigator. The form of the letters being similar also proves a
cognate origin.--K. R. H. M.]

[64] Similar designations occur at an earlier period; thus, in Thebes,
an “Ammon of Tuthmosis (III.)” is mentioned; it would seem to infer
a newly-instituted worship of those gods brought about by these
kings. Ramses II. dedicated to the three highest gods of Egypt (see
my essay “On the Primeval Circle of Egyptian Gods,” in the papers
of the Berlin Academy, 1851), Ra, Phtha, and Ammon, three great
rock temples, in Lower Nubia, at Derr, Gerf Hussén, and Sebuâ, and
called the contemporaneously-founded places after these gods, this
in Greek Heliopolis, Hephaistopolis, and Diospolis. A fourth mighty
and fortified residence was founded by the same king in Abusimbel,
and was named after himself, Ramessopolis, or “The Fortification of
Ramessopolis,” as he also founded two cities in the Delta, and called
them after himself. No doubt it is this new worship, in reference to
which the gods honoured there were named Ammon of Ramses, and Phtha of
Ramses. The king was himself adored in those rock temples, particularly
in that of Abusimbel, in common with those deities.

[65] [See Pickering’s Races of Man and their Geographical Distribution,
chap. x. The Ethiopian race, Nubians, and Barabra of the Nile, p.
211-215.--K. R. H. M.]

[66] A grammar and vocabulary of the Nubian language, and a translation
of St. Mark into Nubian, is prepared for publication.

[67] [The following are some of the terms for one hundred among
the African tribes, BIENGGA, Island of Corisco, _’Nkama_,
JEDAH, _Jjeje_; JOBERRA, _Obere_; KANGA
COUNTRY, Sy district, _Mosulu bandi_.--K. R. H. M.]

[68] [Menekle signifies “great ear.”--K.R.H.M.]

[69] [For a character of Ahmed Pasha, see Werne’s White Nile, vol. i.
p. 33. The author was acquainted with him.--K. R. H. M.]

[70] [Bunsen has given these forms and hieroglyphics at the end of the
English translation of his excellent Egypt’s Place, of which it is much
to be regretted that the first volume only has hitherto appeared.--K.
R. H. M.]

[71] [Had Lepsius remembered that, by the determination of this most
important fact, he set at rest the half-witted theories of a race
of Indo-philologic dreamers, he would have rather rejoiced at the
result than have regretted. These men, of whom Higgins, Faber, and
Dupuis are fine specimens, with no accurate knowledge of any of the
languages they so sapiently decided on, will find their favourite Mount
Meru, Meroë, Menu, Manu, &c., &c., &c., here overthrown by an evident
chronological fact. Such investigations are, however, useful for two
reasons:--1. That they collect an immense number of facts, and, in some
degree, classify them, for the benefit of the race of investigators
now arising, of whom Bunsen, Bopp, and others, are fine examples; and
2. They show us what false scents we must avoid in following up so
intricate an inquiry as the Archæological history of the “origenes” of
mankind. Let it be understood, however, that I do not mean to assert
that men like Higgins and Pococke are totally wrong; far from it,
they are often right, but the care which they should bestow on their
researches is continually wanting,--the critical acumen to distinguish
between nonsense and sense,--always. I can only repeat what I have said
in another place, (Buckley’s Great Cities of the Ancient World, p.
314,) in a chapter on Scandinavian and general mythology, viz.:--That
a new era is approaching in historical investigation, and, I may add,
that we must not doubt, or we may never prove. There is plenty of time,
and one fact _established_ is worth many _overthrown_, when there is
nothing to replace them. The great problem is susceptible of solution
if we have only a little faith, at any rate, to preserve, even if only
_provisionally_, what we cannot see in the full clear light, that
yesterday’s occurrences are given in to-day’s _Times_. See, however, p.
226.--K.R.H.M.]

[72] I have since heard of the decease of Herr Bauer, which ensued in
the following year.

[73] [The author refers to the inscription obtained at Tamaniât through
the means of Mohammed Said. See p. 168.--K.R.H.M.]

[74] [Werne, in his excellent work “Expedition to discover the sources
of the White Nile,” vol. i. p, 146, mentions baobàb trees of the above
dimensions, and states that, near Fazoql, there is said to be one 120
feet in circumference. I cannot too strongly call attention to this
most able work, in the portable form in which it has been issued by my
publisher, Mr. Bentley.--K. R. H. M.]

[75] Russegger (Travels, vol. ii. Part II. p. 125,) found one of 95
feet in circumference. He erroneously calls the tree _ganglès_; this is
_homara_, and the fruit _gungulês_.

[76] [See an elaborate essay on the Berbers and their name, by Mr.
Gliddon, in Burke’s Ethnological Journal, No. X. p. 439, as well as a
paper by Mr. Nash on the Egyptian name of Egypt.--K. R. H. M.]

[77] [See Werne’s Expedition, vol. i. p. 194, where he observes:--

“I do not call them _handsome_ trees, because they stand there in the
green wilderness; no, I find them really beautiful, for there is a
peculiar charm in them. They rise like double gigantic flowers upon
slender stalks, gently protruding in the middle, and not like those
defoliated date-palms, which stand meagrely like large cabbage-stalks.
It is impossible that the latter should delight my poor heart, full
of the remembrance of shady trees,--the oaks and the beech trees of
Germany; the palms near Parnassus; the cypress on the Bosphorus, and
the chestnuts on the Asiatic Olympus.” The botany of these regions has
been well treated by Werne.--K. R. H. M.]

[78] [Bunsen in Egypt’s Place in Universal History, vol. i. p. 430,
refers them all to Osiris, and ranges them thus:--1. The Genius with
the Hawkhead, KEBHSEN u.f. signifying “the refresher of his
brothers.” 2. The Jackal-head TUA-MUTF, “the adorer of his
mother.” 3. The Apehead, HEPI (Apis) “Osiris the devoted.” 4.
AMSET, God, “Osiris the devoted.” The different arrangement
of Lepsius is caused by his counting from right to left, while Bunsen
begins from left to right.--K. R. H. M.]

[79] The poems contain many unusual forms and expressions, and have
been composed in very free and, it seems to me, incorrect forms.

[80] [Compare Herodotus, Euterpe, c. 85, for the ancient Egyptian mode
of mourning, which is, however, not very similar to this.--K. R. H. M.]

[81] [The first Cartouche is as follows:--K (the bowl with a handle),
Alphabetic No. 1, (Bunsen, vol. i. p. 561); N (the water,) Alphabetic
No. 1, (p. 564); TA (bag and reed), Alphabetic No. 5, (p. 568);
K = KNTAK. The reeds, Alphabetic No. 3, (p. 556,) occurs in the
“Todtenbuch” (xxii. 63, 3,) as the sign for a noble, (Bunsen, p. 454),
the heaven (p. 555) is the mark of the feminine gender, and the egg
(Determinative No. 85, p. 545,) rank; = a Queen. The second Cartouche
is the same, with the exception of the variant:--the sign of festivals
(Determinative No. 110 p. 547,) HBI = KNTAHBI.--K. R. H. M.]

[82] [A superstition exists among the Moravian Jews to this effect.
At new moon a branch is held in its light, and the name of any person
pronounced. His face will appear between the horns of the moon, and
should he be destined to die, the leaves will fade. This is mentioned,
as well as I can remember, in Beaumont’s Demonology.--K. R. H. M.]

[83] [Compare Colonel Rawlinson’s Outline of Assyrian History, p. 23,
where Sennacherib’s invasion of Meroe is mentioned.--K. R. H. M.]

[84] [See Pickering’s Races of Man, p. 214, on the Ethiopian Race, and
pp. 368 sqq., for further remarks on Egypt. This excellent work is well
worthy the serious attention of the ethnologist in every way.--K. R. H.
M.]

[85] [I may here mention that an excellent term for the red-skinned
race has been invented, though I forget by whom, though the person was
an American archeologist, viz. cinnamon-coloured, applicable enough
both to the red Mexican and the red Egyptian. In the picture chronicles
of Mexican social life and history we also find that the women are
painted yellow, a coincidence perhaps worthy of notice.--K. R. H. M.]

[86] [Pickering states that he first met with a mixed race of Barâbra
at Kenneh, thirty miles below the site of ancient Thebes, but he
considers the boundary of the races to be at Silsilis. P. 212.--K. R.
H. M.]

[87] [Now standing for many years at the entrance of the Egyptian
saloon in the British Museum.--K. R. H. M.]

[88] All these monuments are now erected in the Egyptian Museum.
See the Ram and the Sparrow-hawk in the “Monuments from Egypt and
Ethiopia,” Part III. plate 90.

[89] From the pods and their contents Dr. Klotzsch recognised the
_Moringa arabica Persoon_ (_Hyperanthera peregrina Forskăl_). It seems
that this tree was only previously known from Arabia, and is natural
there. The single trees near Barkal, which are not mentioned by former
travellers, might have been first introduced from Arabia. This is the
more probable as the immigration of those tribes of the Shaiqîeh Arabs
from the Hegâz is now testified by manuscript authorities. [This tree
must therefore be added to the botanical list of Pickering, who, in his
Races of Man, has collected all the introduced animals and plants of
Egypt, India, America, Polynesia, Southern Arabia, &c., and though the
lists want classification, they are well worthy of attention.--K. R. H.
M.]

[90] The literal expression is, that he has built the temple
[Illustration: hieroglyphics] “to his image, Ra-neb-ma, living on
the earth.” The word _chent_ no longer exists in Koptic, but it is
always translated εἰκών on the Rosetta stone. The temple and the place
belonging to it was also named after the king, but according to his
Horus-name, “Dwelling-place of Sha-em-ma;” this led to the recognition
of the original position of the ram of Barkal and the lions in the
British Museum.

[91] [For the straw huts down the Nile, and particularly beyond
Chartûm, see Werne’s White Nile, chapter i. vol. i. p. 28.--K. R. H. M.]

[92] [See Bunsen’s Egypt’s Place, vol. i. p. 624.--K. R. H. M.]

[93] Monuments, Part II. Plates 245, 246.

[94] Monuments, Part II. plate 1.

[95] Salamât “the greetings” are they called by earlier travellers.
The proper pronunciation and meaning was first remarked to me by our
intelligent old guide, Ἀuad. The Arabs are for confounding them, as
[Illustration: Arabic] _salâm_, _salus_, is pronounced with the dental
_sin_, [Illustration: Arabic] _s’anam_, _idolum_, with the lingual
_sâd_. The plural, which is usually [Illustration: Arabic] _as’nam_,
here takes the feminine form [Illustration: Arabic] _s’anamât_. That
they were male figures had long since been indistinguishable from
the battered heads. The stone of which the statues are formed is a
peculiarly hard quartz brittle sandstone conglomerate, looking glazed,
and with innumerable cracks. The frequent bursting of little particles
of stone at sunrise, when the changes of temperature are most sudden,
caused, according to my idea, the celebrated Memnon sounds, which were
compared with the breaking of a violin string.

[96] [Herodotus II. c.c. 121-122.--K.R.H.M.]

[97] This King Ai was formerly a private individual, and took his
sacerdotal title into his royal cartouche at a later period. He appears
with his wife in the tombs of Amarna, not unfrequently as a noble and
peculiarly honoured officer of King Amenophis IV., that puritanical
sun-worshipper, who changed his name into that of Bech-en-aten.

[98] The above dimensions are here taken from Wilkinson’s Modern Egypt
and Thebes, vol. ii. p. 220.

[99] [For an excellent description of such retreats, _vide_ Floss,
_Quæstiones Criticæ de Macaris_, cap. i. § 1. _Coloniæ, Heberle_,
MDCCCL.--K.R.H.M.]

[100] Apuleii Asclepius, dialogue Hermetis Trismegisti, c. 24.

[101] When I wrote the above, I did not think that the crime would be
so soon avenged. See Letter XXXV. p. 372.

[102] I have since learnt (_Rev. Arch._, vol. iv. p. 32,) that M.
Ampère had been expressly sent to Egypt, by the Paris Academy, to copy
the bilingual inscription at Philae, to which I had turned attention
in my Letters. See Letter XV. p. 120, and note. Of the impression
brought back to Paris, in which, however, the beginnings of the Demotic
lines, and the date of the decree are wanting, the very diminished
representation of Demotic text is taken, which M. de Saulcy has
published in the _Revue Archéologique_.

[103] [In Bunsen’s list of Determinatives, No. 5. I quote his
description “Disk diffusing rays of light; light, as _sti_, a sunbeam,
(sun’s ray); _ht_, daylight; _ubn_, to illuminate; _mau_, to gleam;
_ui_, brilliancy; _hai_, light; _am_, a beam.” Bunsen’s Egypt’s
Place, vol. i. p. 537.--Since writing the foregoing note in the first
edition, I have read the Rev. Charles Forster’s Monuments of Egypt,
and I find that he attempts to identify this royal sign with a grain
of millet, “with its stamina and antheræ developed,” assigning for
its pronunciation the word “pschent.” I forbear criticism upon this
“discovery,” only referring the reader to p. 54 of the second part of
the Primæval Language.--K. R. H. M.]

[104] [Dr. Lepsius alludes to Herr Maximilian Weidenbach.--K. R. H. M.]

[105] These places were first accurately and instructively described by
Wilkinson, Journal of the Royal Geographical Society, vol. ii. pp. 28
sqq.

[106] These are the actual words of my journal as they are understood
also by Ritter, p. 578. According to the printed report, p. 8, it might
appear as if Robinson had given up the attempt to climb the whole of
this mountain district; this is particularised in the _Bibliotheca
Sacra_ as an inaccuracy. But I only spoke of the top of the mountain
rising in the plain in contradistinction to the higher points lying
toward the side, which Robinson has ascended.

[107] This report, sent to His Majesty, was printed, while I was still
absent in 1846, under the title “_Reise des Prof. Lepsius von Theben
nach der Halbinsel des Sinai vom 4ten März, bis zum 14ten April,
1845_,” Berlin, with two maps, a general map of the whole peninsula,
and a special map of Serbâl and Wadi Firân, which were drawn by G.
Erbkam after my directions or plans. This pamphlet was not published,
but was given to a few; yet its contents have become better known by a
translation into English by Charles H. Cottrell, (A Tour from Thebes
to the peninsula of Sinai, &c., London, 1846); and into French by T.
Pergameni, (“Voyage dans le Presq’île du Sinai, &c., lu à la Société de
Géographie, séances du 21 Avril et du 21 Mai. Extrait du Bulletin de la
Soc. de Géogr., Juin, 1847, Paris.”)

[108] The Nakb el Haui, “Windsaddle” is an exceedingly wild and narrow
mountain pass, which is impassable from its shelving abysses. The road
had to be made with great art along the western side, and is in many
places hewn out of the rock; on the other side, the loose soil has been
paved with great flat stones. It is not to be doubted, that this daring
path was made after the building of the convent, in order to have a
shorter road to the town of Pharan, which before could only be reached
by the wide circuit through the Wadi e’ Shech.

[109] It seems that this convent has not been visited by any recent
traveller. Burckhardt, who calls it Siggillye, did not descend, but
heard that it was well-built and spacious, and provided with a good
well, (Trav. in Syria, p. 610). More accurate information concerning
this convent in the Serbâl gorge is very desirable, as it belongs
probably to one of the oldest, or, at least, the most considerable
of the peninsula, as the artistic and elaborately prepared rock-road
thence to the town of Pharan amply shows.

[110] [I may here draw the reader’s attention to an interesting work,
(to be more completely alluded to in the sequel,) lately published by
the Rev. Charles Forster. The One Primeval Language. Part I. The Voice
of Israel from the Rocks of Sinai.--K. R. H. M.]

[111] Monuments, Part II., plates 2, 116, 137, 140, 152, III., 28.

[112] [Bunsen, vol. i. p. 400, and see Lepsius, Ueber den Ersten
Aegyptischen Götterkreis, p. 30.--K. R. H. M.]

[113] [From its great length, I have found it necessary to reserve a
note on this passage until the Appendix, Note A., where the reader will
find it.--K. R. H. M.]

[114] On this point I find all the most important voices unanimous.
Robinson, in particular, has the merit of having done away with many
old prejudices of this kind. But Burckhardt had already allowed
himself to be so little influenced in his judgment by the authority of
tradition, that he did not hesitate to find a reason for the erection
of the convent of Sinai on Gebel Mûsa on strategical grounds. (Trav. in
Syr. p. 609.)

[115] The name Firân, formerly Pharan, is certainly the same as the
Biblical Paran; but it is equally sure that this name had shifted its
application in the locality. All other comparisons of names are totally
unsatisfactory.

[116] One of the two wells seems to go back to the time of the building
of the convent; it is the smaller one of the two. The deep, principal
well, which gives the most and the best water, seems to have been first
sunk in 1760, by order of an English Lord. (_Ritter_, p. 610.)

[117] Burckhardt also expressly observes, that there is no good
pasturage in the neighbourhood of the convent, where the rather more
numerous little fountains would almost allow us to consider the soil to
be moisture. See Bartlett’s impression in a subsequent place.

[118] So the Arabs unanimously assured us, see also Burckhardt, p. 625,
and Ritter, p. 769. Lord Lindsay here found “a small wood of tarfa
trees, in which blackbirds were singing, and farther on some palm
plantations.” It was at the same outlet of the valley “where Seetzen
first had the pleasure of gathering much manna off the tarfa bushes and
eating it; here he found the ripe fruits of the wild caper bush, which
were eatable like fruit.”

[119] [Note B, Appendix.--K. R. H. M.]

[120] Originally, both these hot springs seem not to have been called
Hammân Faraûn from Pharaoh, but Farân from Pharan. For Edrisi calls the
place Faran Ahrun and Istachri Taran, which should doubtless be Faran
(Cf. Ritter, Asien, Bd. VIII. S. 170 ff.). Macrizi also calls the place
Birkit Faran (Ritter, _Sinaihalbinsel_, p. 64.) Probably the harbour
region of Pharan was called after the city, though it was somewhat
distant; and the legend, so very inapposite here, concerning Pharaoh’s
ruin, only connected itself with Faraûn by a confusion with Faran. It
is curious that the Arab writers, of whom Macrizi was certainly there,
speak of Faran as of a coast town!

[121] The part of the sandy coast, considered by Robinson to be the
desert of Sin, has no tarfa bush, much less manna. Concerning the
regions where manna is found, Cf. Ritter, p. 665 sqq. That Eusebius
also considers the wilderness of Sin to extend to Sinai, is already
mentioned. [Σίν, έρημος ἡ μετάξυ παρατείνουσα τῆς Ἐρυθρᾶς Θαλάσσης καὶ
τῆς ἐρήμον Σίυα]

[122] Robinson, vol. i. p. 173, 196. To Wilson’s particular argument
of the extensive prospect from Gebel Mûsa is to be objected, that,
from a point very inconsiderably higher than the plain, many places
can be seen, from which the elevation itself would not appear very
considerable.

[123] See Robinson, vol. i. pp. 118, 196.

[124] Ewald, History of the People of Israel, vol. ii. p. 86, also
considers that Sinai “was already looked upon as an oracular place and
divine seat before Moses.” Ritter considers it insupportable.

[125] This is confirmed at the present day by Rüppell, who considers
Gebel Katharine to be Sinai. He relates in his voyage to Abyssinia,
vol. i. p. 127, the following about his ascent of Mount Serbâl in
1831:--“At the top of Serbâl, the Bedouins have placed little circles
of stones in a circle, and other stones are laid from it down the steep
declivity like steps, to render the ascent more easy; when we came to
that circle _my guide took off his sandals, and approached it with
religious reverence, he then said a prayer inside_, and afterward told
me that he had already sacrificed two sheep here as _thank-offerings_,
the one at the birth of a son, the other on regaining his health. The
mountain of _Serbâl has been held for such superstitions in the highest
respect by the Arabs of the vicinity, from time immemorial_; and it
must once have been somewhat holy to the Christians, as in the valley
to the south-west there lie the ruins of a great convent and many
little hermits’ cells. In any case, the wild, craggy rocks of Serbâl,
and the _isolated position of this mountain is much more remarkable and
grand than any other group of mountains in Arabia Petræa, and it was
peculiarly adapted for the goal of religious pilgrimages_. The highest
point of the mount, or the second rock from the west, and on which the
Arabs usually sacrifice, is, according to my barometrical observation,
6,342 French feet above the level of the sea.”

[126] See the excellent treatise of Tuch (Einundzwanzig Sinaitische
Inschriften, Leipzig, 1849.) This scholar endeavours to prove, by the
deciphered names of the pilgrims, that the authors of the inscriptions
were native pagan Arabs, and went to Serbâl for religious festivals;
according to him, these pilgrimages ended, at latest, in the course
of the third century. Here it may also be mentioned, that the name
itself of Serbâl, which Rödiger, (in Wellsted’s Travels in Arabia, vol.
ii. page the last), doubtlessly correctly derived from [Illustration:
Arabic] _serb_, _palmarum copia_, and Baal, “palm grove (φοινίκων) of
Baal,” points to a heathen origin. [However much M. Tuch may reproduce
the notion of Beer, he cannot set aside its confutation in Forster’s
Primeval Language, Part I. pp. 8-38.--K. R. H. M.]

[127] Vol. i. p. 198.

[128] I thought to be able to conclude this indirectly from his
narrative, (Antiq. III. 2.) It now appears to me that nothing can be
elicited, as to his opinion, from it, for which reason the name should
be omitted above. In itself it is still probable that he held the same
opinion as Eusebius and Jerome.

[129] Eusebius, περὶ τῶν τοκικῶν ὀνομ., etc s.v. Ῥαφιδίμ, τόπος
τῆς ἐρήμον παρὰ τὸ Χωρὴβ ὄρος, ἐν ᾧ ἐυ τῆς πέτρας ἐρρύησε τὰ ὔδατα
καὶ ἐκλήθη ὀ τόπος πειρασμός ἔνθα καὶ πολεμεῖ Ἰησοῦς τὺν Ἁμαλὴκ
ἐγγὺς Φαράν. Hieron. de situ et nomin., etc. s.v. Raphidim,
locus in deserto juxta montem Choreb, in quo de petra fluxere aquæ,
cognominatusque est tentatio, ubi et Jesus adversus Amalec dimicat
_prope Pharan_. [Here again the authorities resolve themselves
into one, as the reader knows that, after all, Jerome was only the
translator of Eusebius, and would therefore, of course, agree with him.
The Doctor does not appear to have thought of this.--K. R. H. M.]

[130] Of the older authors there is yet Cosmas Indicopleustes
(A.D. 535) to be particularly mentioned, (Topogr.
Christ, Lib V. in the _Coll. Nov. Patr. ed. Montfaucon_, tom. II. fol.
195,) Ἔιτα πάλιν παρενέ βαλον εἰς Ῥαφιδὶν εἰς τὴν νῦν λεγομένην Φαράν
also Antoninus Placentinus, who is placed about 600, while the learned
Papebroch, who has edited his _Itinerarium_ in the _Acta S.S._, May,
vol. ii. p. 10-18, places him in the eleventh or twelfth century, came,
as he says, _in civitatem_ (which can only be Pharan) _in qua pugnavit
Moyses cum Amalech: ubi est altare positum super lapides illos quos
posuerunt Moyse orante_.” The city is surrounded with a brick wall, and
“_valde, sterilis_” for which Tuch (Sinait. Incr. p. 38) proposes to
read “_fertilis_.” When Pharan is called an Amalekite city by Macrizi,
(History of the Kopts, translated by Wüstenfeld, p. 116), this can only
point to the same conclusion that Moses was attacked near Pharan by the
Amalekites, to whom the territory belonged. Ritter is particularly to
be mentioned among the new school.

[131] See the passage of Cosmas, in a former note.

[132] The name Raphidîm itself, “the resting-places,” indicates that
the place was intended for a longer rest.

[133] Exodus, xix. 1-3.

[134] See Note C, in the Appendix.

[135] Therefore Robinson and others, who admit no hiatus in the resting
stations, place Raphidîm beyond Firân, and do not admit that the latter
is named at all, or place Alus there. What is contrary to this, and has
already been made use of by Ritter, is already mentioned above. On the
contrary, Ritter, to get over the difficulty, considers our present
text to be imperfect (p. 742).

[136] To this conclusion, which appears to me the most doubtful,
of any, Ritter feels himself driven. The tradition of the present
day is different, that Horeb and Sinai are two mountains in close
juxtaposition, but also distinctly divided.

[137] To this conclusion, which appears to me the most doubtful,
of any, Ritter feels himself driven. The tradition of the present
day is different, that Horeb and Sinai are two mountains in close
juxtaposition, but also distinctly divided.

[138] The three possibilities of getting quit of this difficulty have
been tried by Robinson, Ritter, and Josephus. The first places Raphidîm
in the neighbourhood of Gebel Mûsa; the second sees an omission between
Raphidîm and Sinai, and accepts two divine mountains; the third
transposes the passage, and does not mention Horeb at all, but only
Sinai.

[139] Cf. the comparison and discussion of both opinions in Robinson,
vol. i. pp. 197, sqq. All those places where exactly the same is said
of Horeb as of Sinai, and no idea of a larger extent of region is
admissible, speak against the view of the latter that Horeb is the
denomination of the mountain-range or country, and Sinai the name of
the particular mount. A Desert of Horeb is never spoken of, as are the
deserts of Sur, Sin, Paran, and others. For a contrary view one could
cite Acts, vii. 30, compared with Exodus, iii. 1. [The former passage
is “And when forty years were expired, then appeared unto him _in the
wilderness of Mount Sinai_, an angel,” &c.; the other runs thus, “He
led the flock to the backside of the desert, and came _to the mountain
of God, even to Horeb_.”--K. R. H. M.]

[140] This view is already to be found in the _Itinerarium_ of
Antoninus, who finds the convent _between_ Sinai and Horeb. The present
monkish tradition that the rock on the plain of Râha is Horeb is
already known. The arbitrariness of such views are self-evident. Yet
the latter opinion is taken up by Gesenius, (Thesaur. p. 517), Wiener,
and others.

[141] St. Jerome already says expressly the same thing, in adding
to the words of Eusebius, _s.v._ Choreb:--“Mihi autem videtur,
quod _duplici nomine idem mons nunc_ SINA, _nunc_ CHOREB
_vocetur_.” Josephus already evidently took both mountains to be
one, as he everywhere substitutes _Sinai_ where _Choreb_ occurs in
the Bible; so also does the author of Acts (vii. 80); and likewise
Syncellus (_Chron._ p. 190), who says of Elias:--ἐπορεύετο ἐν Χωρὴβ
τῷ ὄρει ἤτοι Σιναίῳ. [The adjective termination of Σιναίῳ shows that
Syncellus meant that Choreb was part of the Sinaitic range. Otherwise,
he would have employed the Hebraic termination:--K. R. H. M.] Of late
scholars, Ewald presents the same opinion concerning the identity of
the two mounts. He says, (Gesch. des V. Isr., vol. ii. p. 84):--“The
two names Sinai and Horeb do not change, because they denoted two
peaks of the same mountain, lying close together, but the name Sinai
is plainly older, which is also used by Deborah, (Judges v. 5), while
the name Horeb is not to be found previous to the time of Numbers (cf.
Exod. iii. 1, xvii. 6, xxxiii. 6), but then becomes very frequent, as
is proved by Deuteronomy, and the passages, 1 Kings viii. 9, xix. 8,
Mal. xii. 22, Psalm cvi. 19, while it does not mean anything to the
contrary, when quite recent writers, for the sake of showing their
acquaintance with ancient literature, re-introduce the original name of
Sinai!”

[142] If we omit the two verses xix. 12, the narrative in xix. 3
continues quite naturally that of xviii. 27; “and Moses let his
father-in-law depart; so he went his way into his own land. And Moses
went up unto God, and the Lord called unto him out of the mountain,” &c.

[143] [See Note C. Appendix.]

[144] [See Note A. Appendix.]

[145] [Note D, Appendix.]

[146] [Note E, Appendix.]

[147] [Note F, Appendix.]

[148] Ritter (p. 31), where he mentions that Sinai appears almost
simultaneously, as Serbâl, with the Egyptian Cosmas, and as Gebel
Mûsa with the Byzantine Procopius, broaches another conjecture, which
I shall here quote:--“Was there, perhaps,” says he, “a different
tradition or party opinion prevailing in Constantinople and Alexandria
on this point among the convents and the monks, which might have arisen
from a jealousy to vindicate the more sacred character of one or other
of the places? It is curious that at the same time such different views
of the question should exist among the most learned theologians of
their time.”

[149] This letter, which is here printed word for word, was addressed
to the General-Director der K. Preuss. Museen, Herr Geh. Legations-Rath
von Olfers. Perhaps its publication may serve at the same time to
spread abroad a just respect for the principles on which the Egyptian
Museum, that part of one of the most grand and newest creations of
Berlin first accessible to the public, has been erected and decorated.

[150] [This might, not without some reason, be considered to assimilate
with the style of painting which has lately made its appearance in
England as a school--I refer to the pre-Raphaelite, which, whatever its
own intrinsic merits may be,--and those, I suspect, are very few,--will
at least have one good effect, that of calling the attention of English
painters to the individualities in their paintings, and obviating the
slurring sketchy style so prevalent at the present time, the upholders
of which, after all, are the persons who condemn the pre-Raphaelites.
The remarks of Dr. Lepsius will therefore apply to this new school of
painting.--K. R. H. M.]

[151] [The Cheta are generally considered to be the Hittites.--K. R. H.
M.]

[152] [Exodus, i. 11.--K. R. H. M.]

[153] It must be from some error that Burckhardt (Travels in Syria, p.
5) only allows the grave of Noah a length of ten feet, although the
same number recurs in Schubert (_Reise in das Morgenland_, Bd. III.,
p. 340). It is well known how continually the number forty is used
by the Hebrews as an indefinite number. The same seems to have been
peculiar to _all Semitic_ nations, at least, it may be pointed out
frequently, and at all times with the Phænicians and Arabs; the numeral
word for four and forty itself points, in these languages, to the
general idea of multitude. Cf. my Treatise on Philological Comparison
(“_Sprachvergleichende Abhandlungen_,”) Berlin, 1836, pp. 104, 139, and
the “Chronology of the Egyptians,” vol. i. p. 15.

[154] See V. Hammer, History of the Osmanli Empire, part II. p. 482.

[155] Cf. Krafft, the Topography of Jerusalem, Bonn, 1846, and Plate
II. No. 33.

[156] The king represented here is explained by Rawlinson (a Commentary
on the Cuneiform Inscriptions of Babylonia and Assyria, London, 1850,
p. 70,) to be the son of the builder of Khorsabad, Bel-Adonim-Sha.
The same king is found on the buildings of Kuyunjik, Nebbi Yûnas, and
Mossul, according to Layard, (Nineveh, vol. ii. p. 142, 144,) who, (p.
400), conjectures that the monument from Cyprus, now in the Berlin
Museum, also belongs to him. (Cf. Bonomi, Nineveh and its Palaces,
London, 1852, p. 127.)

[157] [Hesych. οὐραγίαν, τὴν ὄπισθεν ἀκολουθοῦσαν στρατίαν--K.R.H.M.]

[158] [See Bunsen, Egypt’s Place, vol. 1. p. 209--K.R.H.M.]

[159] [It may be as well to remark that the calculations of longitude
here and on the map are made from the island of Feroe, on the west
coast of Africa, and not from Greenwich.--K.R.H.M.]

[160] [To the Rev. Charles Forster it would appear we are indebted for
the detection of the record of the visit of Cosmas, which, according to
his reading, runs thus:--“μνησ τηθ? Κοσμάν του’ ν Τεβδ ... ναυτιου.”
“Remember Cosmas, the voyager to Tibet.” See that gentleman’s work on
the Primeval Language, Part I. p. 4. The Greek, as the author observes,
is _very_ corrupt.--K.R.H.M.]

*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Discoveries in Egypt, Ethiopia and the peninsula of Sinai, in the years 1842-1845, during the mission sent out by his majesty, Frederick William IV of Prussia." ***

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