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.