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.