Assouan — The treaty with the Reis — The quarries — The Persian invasion
— Caravan of slaves — Hunting for jackals — Daireh’s love story.
The approach to Assouan is through a scene singularly beautiful. The
river, sweeping abruptly round, opens into a kind of bay, shut in by the
picturesque island of Elephantina, and terminated by high, bold rocks,
looking like the boundaries of a lake. Assouan lies, like a nest, under
towering crags, crowned with ruins, the remains of a town of importance,
and is itself a village of some pretensions. It is on the left bank of
the river, here much contracted, entering upon a region of a totally
different character. The prospect from the heights is of great extent,
and surpassing interest, including a wide sweep of Egypt and
Nubia—countries most distinct in their features—and a noble expanse of
wood and water, hill and lowland, in the midst of which lie the lovely
shades of Elephantina.
We had arranged to receive our letters at Assouan; and after being so
long without intelligence from home, and a full month having elapsed
since we had even seen a European face, we were most impatient to
ascertain what awaited us. We were soon on our way to the Post-office,
where the postmaster, a fine old Arab, received us very courteously, and
produced two budgets of letters and a copy of the “Times,” for which we
paid the not unreasonable charge of six shillings and sixpence. These
treasures had been brought from Cairo overland, by pedestrian
messengers, called runners, who relieved one another at stated
distances; and the packets had been fingered by every Pasha and Bey of
the various towns on the route. The “Times” was a month old, but quite
fresh to us; even the advertisements were devoured, and proved tolerably
digestible.
Assouan is the porch to the first cataract of the Nile; and our news
from England was scarcely discussed, when the cataract authorities, ever
alive to business, paid us a visit, and set to work to get as high a
price as possible for carrying us over. One would have supposed,
however, from the tenor of their conversation, that such a project was
the very furthest from their thoughts, and it was long before they could
be entrapped into the most remote allusion to it. Daireh predicted that
the negotiation would last three days; but we were determined, if our
united tact could accomplish it, to finish all at one sitting. Pipes and
coffee were introduced, and the most alluring hints thrown out; but the
Reis of the cataract, who saw a trap in every word, would speak of
anything but what he had come about. At length, he remarked, with great
gravity and decision, that it was quite out of the question to think of
taking our boat up, as it was too large, and could not possibly be got
over. Hereupon the bargaining commenced, and after a contest of two
hours’ duration, it was definitively settled that we should be taken up
the cataract on the morrow, and let down on our return, for the sum of
£7, being £3 10_s._ for each boat.
While the various articles of this important treaty were being
discussed, a crowd collected in front of the boats on shore, gradually
increasing to several hundreds, and giving great animation to the scene.
Some had friends among our crews, a few of whom, as old hands, had
ascended the cataract again and again; and these kept up a dialogue of
the most sprightly character. Others were connected with the Reis of the
cataract, or felt interested in the negotiation; and many were venders
of articles of _vertu_, as it is understood here, embracing in their
stock an assortment of spears and clubs, ostrich eggs and feathers, and
some genuine modern antiquities, among which I noticed the blade of a
knife, marked with the hieroglyphics of Rogers & Co. But as soon as the
contract was settled, the Reis took his departure, and the crowd
dispersed.
In the afternoon, when the heat of the day had subsided, we rode out to
the quarries of red granite and sienite, which are a short distance from
the village, on the other side of the Nile. The excavations are on a
scale commensurate with the vast works they were destined to construct,
and the rocks have been hewn out as easily as if they had been clay. The
wedge, which seems to have been used from the earliest ages, was the
great power in requisition for such service. When the block was marked
out by wedges, water was poured in, which, causing the wood to swell,
the rock burst asunder, and gave forth material for a column, or a god.
The shattered heights are covered with rude inscriptions, referring to
blocks cut out, and some commemorating victories of the ancient
Pharoahs, by whose command the excavations were made. All seems as if it
were the creation of yesterday; as if the artificers, called off by some
emergency, had but just left their mighty labour. Even the traces of the
wooden wedges are still apparent in the rocks; and the obelisk which was
hewn out for removal, but in consequence of some flaw not taken away,
still stands where it was left by the workmen. The excavations are said
to have been arrested by the Persian Conquest, which, at the same time,
overthrew the proud temples they had helped to raise, and heaped the
country with ruins. It would almost seem, on glancing round, that the
same imperious hand had diverted the natural course of the river, as a
strip of desert lies between the quarries and the high ground near the
water, strewn with enormous boulders, looking as though they had but
just been washed from the heights by some resistless torrent, while the
Nile forces a passage over rocks beyond, forming the first cataract. But
this may appear an idle speculation, and standing here, only one problem
presents itself—how such stupendous blocks, cut in one mass from the
quarries, could be removed to such a distance as Thebes? The exact means
of transit indeed must ever remain a mystery, but it seems certain that
they were conveyed by land; and Herodotus, who took infinite pains to
arrive at the truth, mentions that two thousand men were employed three
years in transporting one block to its destination.
It was with some reluctance that we turned from these strange diggings,
and retraced our steps to the boats. On our way we descried a covey of
partridges, the first we had yet seen, but which proved the harbingers
of many others. Fortune, however, delights in cross-purposes, and it so
happened that this was the only time we had come on shore without our
guns, being utterly weary of carrying fire-arms for no purpose. But we
had now a prospect before us, and for the future went prepared.
Just before reaching the boats, we came upon a large party of female
slaves, on their way down to Cairo, where, in the lottery of the slave-
market, they were to pass to new masters. They were penned like sheep in
a range of little huts, formed by hanging matting round a clump of palm
trees, which spread their grateful shade above. It was most amusing, as
we drew near, to see the rush they made to gain cover, and how they
ducked their heads under the matting, to avoid being seen, though
curiosity, the weak point of the sex, brought up again many a pair of
bright eyes, to look at us as we passed. They were nearly all young
girls, varying in age from twelve to sixteen; and a merrier set could
not be met with. The woods rang with their pleasant laughter; and one
might have thought—what perhaps was not very far from the truth—that in
place of now entering the house of bondage, they had left it behind in
their own country. Their masters, from all we could learn, are uniformly
kind to them; and whenever we encountered a party, we found that the
girls were much attached to the head of their caravan. The bevy we now
saw was from Abyssinia—whence, indeed, most of the female slaves of
Egypt are drawn—and was destined, as the Abyssinian girls usually are,
for the Turkish hareems, or as wives of shop-keepers and affluent Arabs.
Their colour was a glossy black; they were exceedingly well made, and
had bright cheerful faces, lit up by sparkling black eyes. They all
seemed very shy, and could not be induced to come out of their huts, or
even to let us approach them. There was but one who showed more
confidence, a very fine young woman, apparently about twenty-five years
of age, who brought out her baby, a most beautiful child, almost a
Murillo in colour, and exquisitely formed. We offered to purchase it,
but, though she seemed flattered, the mother’s heart clung to her child,
and she could not be tempted to part with it. We gave her some money for
grease, which had an immediate effect on her spirits, and then left her,
the envy of the whole sisterhood.
In the evening we went out with our guns, and accompanied by a guide, in
quest of jackals, which he undertook to find for us. It was quite dark,
and we walked silently along, in Indian file, over the hill, keeping
both eye and ear on the alert, and our guns ready for service. We soon
discovered traces of the enemy, and heard his wailing cry, but this was
the limit of our success. The moon rising, rendered it light as day; and
though our companion, putting a good face on the matter, was still
profuse in promises, it required no long time to convince us that there
was but little chance of our obtaining any sport. The pursuit, however,
had not been unattended with excitement, and we were amply compensated
for our walk by the brilliant landscape, which, in that mystic light,
surpassed anything that could be imagined.
Returning on board, we found that the crew had retired, and all was made
snug for the night. Daireh, our dragoman, was lying on his rug at the
cabin-door, his usual resting-place, and was half asleep; but quickly
aroused himself, and in another moment was seen smoking. The two
watchers were amusing each other by recounting the Arabian Nights; and
Daireh, between the long puffs of his pipe, translated one story,
recording the eventful fortunes of the prince who was carried off from
Damascus in his drawers, in the dead hour of the night. From this, being
in a communicative mood, he turned to some incidents of his own life,
and then related how he first fell in love, and with what result,
expressing himself with indescribable delicacy and feeling.
Poor Daireh, it should seem, was attending a traveller in the Syrian
desert, when they encountered a large caravan of slaves, one of whom, a
lovely young girl, who had seen some fifteen summers, won the dragoman’s
heart. He described her as very fair, with beautiful soft eyes, like a
gazelle’s, and raven hair, and as having a light, ringing laugh, which
struck on his ear like music. All at once, Daireh discovered that he
should be very lonely when he returned home, and he mentioned the
subject to his master, who, with the sagacity of Achitophel, recommended
marriage. Accordingly, Daireh, only too eager, went to the head of the
caravan, and bought the girl for fifteen pounds, on which, with a
delicacy very foreign to the usages of his country, he asked her to
marry him, at the same time telling her that she was perfectly free, and
could act as her own choice directed. Even if she could, under such
circumstances, have hesitated, a tempting promise of the dresses and
delicate food, with which Daireh adroitly backed his offer, was
irresistible, and the fair enslaver gave a glad consent. They were
married at Beyrout, and thence proceeded to Cairo, where, having a
competent income, they lived very happily for two years, in the course
of which Daireh was presented with a very fine boy, on whom both he and
the fond mother centred all their hopes. Now came the blight on the
honest dragoman’s life. The child sickened and died!
It was most touching to hear the poor fellow describe, in his mournful
tones, how he had tried to console and support his wife under their sad
bereavement. Like all the women of the East, she had a passion for
dress, and he thought to win her from her sorrow by costly presents; but
the time was gone when, in the freedom of a happy heart, such things
could bring light to her eye, or a smile to her lip. Her tears still
flowed, and the world, which had just before been so full of promise,
had for her lost all its charms. Her heart was weary and heavy-laden,
and pined for that last resting-place, which held in its cold embrace
her buried treasure. On the third day the poor mourner died.
Such was Daireh’s tale, evincing a tenderness and a flow of sentiment
which seemed quite incongruous in one of his race and caste. Who, under
so rugged an exterior, would have looked for the pearl of genuine love,
or the cherished memories of a secret sorrow? But nature asserts her
sway under every peculiarity; and savage indeed is the bosom that is not
moved in some way by the impulses of human kindness!
I could offer him no consolation, when he had finished his story, though
I felt, without a word being said, that his emotion was all the more
painful for being repressed. Perhaps the unwonted stillness, and the
solemn repose of the surrounding scene, resplendent with almost
unearthly light, were more in unison with his feelings, and exercised
over him both a soothing and consoling influence. He finished his pipe
in silence, when I bade him good night, and left him to his reflections.