CLEOPATRA’S NEEDLE.

More than twenty-two centuries ago—that is to say, about three hundred

and thirty-two years before the birth of Christ—a Greek general,

after a victorious campaign against the Persian rulers of Egypt, and

a triumphant progress along the eastern boundary of the Delta (at

that time the heart of the Egyptian kingdom), embarked in his galley

on the Rosetta branch of the Nile, and swept down its stream to the

Mediterranean Sea. Veering to the west, he steered along the African

coast, and very soon came in sight of a small narrow island, called

Pharos, lying at a short distance from the shore, and separated from

it by a deep-sea channel capable of floating ships of heavy burden.

This island served as a ready-made breakwater to the channel inside,

and seemed intended to convert it into a natural harbour. It was on

this very spot that the city of Alexandria sprung into existence, in

obedience to the command of the victorious general already mentioned,

who, indeed, was no less a personage than Alexander the Great, King of

Macedonia, the first of a line of Greek kings who reigned over Egypt

for three hundred years.

On the island of Pharos was laid the foundation of a magnificent

lighthouse. The centre of the island was connected with the mainland by

means of a mole, or causeway, three-quarters of a mile long; and this

causeway contributed additional security to the harbour. Warehouses,

docks, and streets, interspersed with temples, palaces, and monuments,

sprung into existence with inconceivable rapidity; and that which

originally was nothing more than a poor little fishing village, called

Rhacotis, was speedily converted into the greatest and most flourishing

city of the world, the chief seaport of Egypt, distinguished alike for

its commercial prosperity and for its influence as a seat of learning.

Here was established the celebrated library of Alexandria, the resort

of philosophers from all the surrounding countries—from Greece, from

Rome, from Babylon, from Jerusalem, from Persia, and from Palestine:

here creeds were argued and debated; here Athanasius and Arian

disputed; here the Holy Bible was translated into Greek (the common

language of the people), for the benefit of the Alexandrian Jews;

here the Evangelist Mark preached the gospel of Christ; and here the

groundwork was laid of a future religion of brotherly love, moderation,

and peace.

It was the habit of the human kind in those early ages—as, alas! is

too often the case in the present day—to be puffed up by success and

enfeebled by indulgence. So it fell out with the princes of Persia;

for, in the latter years of their reign of two centuries in Egypt,

the rulers became indolent and incompetent; they relied on others

for the performance of duties which were inseparably their own; they

enlisted an army of mercenaries in Greece; the mercenaries grew bold

and powerful, and, in due time, seized on the possessions of their

masters. The Greeks, in their turn, rushed forward to a similar fate;

they conquered the world, and then, growing indifferent and luxurious,

it was the easy task of the Romans to conquer them. Too enervated

and too listless to maintain the greatness they had achieved, they

purchased for their defence the help of the Roman soldiery; and the

Roman legions, nothing loth, were not long before they occupied the

throne of their employers. Three centuries saw the beginning and the

ending of Greek rule in Egypt. Pompey and Julius Cæsar, fighting for

the supremacy of the world, precipitated themselves on the oft-disputed

battle-ground of Egypt; Pompey for refuge, Cæsar in pursuit; Pompey

welcomed by false friends with the poniard, while, shortly afterwards,

Cæsar fell by the hand of his colleagues and of his friend Brutus.

And so it happened that Augustus, the renowned Roman emperor, became

supreme sovereign of Egypt just thirty years before the Christian era;

and Egypt was governed by the Romans for seven hundred years.

Ptolemy was the family surname of the Greek kings, and Cæsar that of

the Roman emperors; so that it is not an uncommon thing to speak of the

reign of the Ptolemies and the reign of the Cæsars; but as there were

queens as well as kings among the Greeks, the prevailing name of the

sovereign ladies was Cleopatra. The last of the Ptolemies left behind

him, at his death, two sons and two daughters; both the sons were named

Ptolemy, and the eldest daughter, Cleopatra.[5]

[5] Cleopatra the famous, was the sixth Cleopatra.

Cleopatra, says a popular author on the Greek dynasty (Samuel Sharpe),

“had been a favourite name in Greece and with the royal families of

Macedonia and Alexandria for at least four hundred years. What prettier

name could be given to a little girl in her cradle, than to call her

_the pride of her father_.” Nevertheless Cleopatra was harshly dealt

with by her brother: their father had directed that his eldest son and

daughter should rule conjointly; but Ptolemy endeavoured to secure the

throne for himself, and Cleopatra was obliged to fly the country. In

this emergency Cleopatra sought and secured the assistance of Julius

Cæsar; her brother was beaten in battle and drowned in his endeavours

to escape the pursuit of the victorious army, and she was restored to

the throne by Cæsar to rule conjointly with her younger brother.

After the death of Cæsar, Cleopatra fell into disfavour with Mark

Anthony. Mark Anthony was then at Tarsus, sovereign of the East,

and tripartite ruler of the then known world. Tarsus is familiar to

ourselves as the birthplace of the Apostle Paul, and the city which,

in the infancy of Christianity, was enlightened by his teachings. It

was situated on the river Cydnus; and here Cleopatra was commanded

to appear before her powerful master Anthony, to meet the charges of

misgovernment that had been made against her. “The beauty, sweetness,

and gaiety of this young Queen,” says Sharpe, “joined to her great

powers of mind, which were all turned to the art of pleasing, had quite

overcome Anthony; he had sent for her as her master, but he was now

her slave. Her playful wit was delightful; her voice was an instrument

of many strings; she spake readily to every ambassador in his own

language; and was said to be the only sovereign of Egypt who could

understand the language of all her subjects:—Greek, Egyptian, Ethiopic,

Troglodytic, Hebrew, Arabic, and Syriac. With these charms, at the age

of five-and-twenty, Anthony could deny her nothing.”

Our compassion is beginning to be enlisted for the sovereign and the

judge; for behold, the culprit approaches:—“She entered the river

Cydnus with the Egyptian fleet, in a magnificent galley. The stern was

covered with gold; the sails were of scarlet cloth; and the silver oars

beat time to the music of flutes and harps. The Queen, dressed like

Venus, lay under an awning embroidered with gold, while pretty dimpled

boys, like Cupids, stood on each side of the sofa fanning her. Her

maidens, dressed like sea-nymphs and graces, handled the silken tackle,

and steered the vessel; as they approached the town of Tarsus, the

winds wafted the perfumes and the scent of the burning incense to the

shores, which were lined with crowds who had come out to see her land.”

Shakspeare pursues the tempting theme in the same rapturous tone,

having doubtless derived his history of Cleopatra, like Sharpe, from

Plutarch.

“From the barge,

A strange invisible perfume hits the sense

Of the adjacent wharves. The city cast

Her people out upon her. And Anthony,

Enthroned in the market-place, did sit alone

Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy,

Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too,

And made a gap in nature.

Upon her landing, Anthony sent to her;

Invited her to supper: she replied,

It should be better he became her guest;

Which she intreated: our courteous Anthony,

Whom ne’er the word of “No” woman heard speak,

Being barbered ten times o’er, goes to the feast,

And for his ordinary pays his heart

For what his eyes eat only.”

The Roman soldier marvelled at the loveliness of his hostess and the

splendour of her entertainment, and was not unwilling to repeat his

visit. Each sumptuous feast surpassed in gorgeous profusion that which

had gone before it, until a bet was laid that Cleopatra would give

a banquet which should cost £60,000. She came to the entertainment

adorned with two magnificent earrings of pearl, the largest in the

world, and part of her suite of crown-jewels. In the midst of the feast

an attendant set before her a cup of vinegar; she took a pearl from her

ear and dropped it into the vinegar, and, when it was dissolved, she

drank off the contents of the cup as a pledge to her distinguished

guest. One of Anthony’s friends, Plancus, adjudged that Anthony had

lost the bet, and taking the other pearl from her ear, sent it to

Italy, where it was cut in two and made into a pair of earrings for the

statue of Venus, in the Pantheon of Rome.

A pleasant compliment had been paid, some two hundred years before that

time, to another great Queen of Egypt, Berenice, the wife of Ptolemy

Euergetes. Euergetes had been called to the wars, and Berenice, who

was remarkable for a splendid head of hair, vowed, in her grief, that

she would cut it all off and offer it as a sacrifice to the gods if

her husband returned in safety. Ptolemy was victorious, the hair was

dutifully cut off, and hung up in the Temple of Venus; after a time

the hair disappeared, and Conon, the astronomer, being appealed to,

declared that it had been carried off by Jupiter, who spreading it

forth in the azure vault of heaven, had made of it a constellation of

seven stars, which, to this day, is known as the “Coma Berenicis;”

literally, Berenice’s head of hair. There must have been grand prizes

to be drawn in those lucky days by the fortunate: to be installed

in the starry firmament could not otherwise be regarded than as a

distinguished and lasting honour; and an astronomer who was desirous of

standing well with the Court, had it in his power to pay an agreeable

compliment. We can fancy Astronomer Conon, after a courteous reception

at the palace, saying, as he took his leave, “Your name, Madam, shall

be enrolled among the constellations, to shine brightly for ever

and ever more.” It was a pretty piece of scientific patronage, and

convincing; for, of course, no further search was made for Berenice’s

curls.

These pleasant stories convey to us, as well as anything can, the

admiration of the Egyptians for their lovely ones, and the ideal

inspiration which associates itself with a name. We can no longer

wonder that two superb obelisks, chiselled in the best period of

Egyptian art, sculptured in the rose-coloured granite of the renowned

quarries of Syené at the extremest limit of the kingdom, and set up in

the midst of the regal city, made doubly lustrous by the presence of

its beautiful Queen, and probably within the precincts of her favourite

palace, should have received the name of Cleopatra’s Needles; nor,

that that name should be borne by them to all futurity.[6]

[6] Cleopatra’s Needle at Alexandria is the subject of the vignette on

our title-page: it exhibits the infirm condition of the base of the

obelisk; and it has been represented to the Egyptian government that,

unless steps are taken to render it secure, it will probably share the

fate of its fellow monolith. In the figure the pedestal is partially

stripped of the earth and rubbish with which it is ordinarily covered.

We assume, therefore, that the name of Cleopatra, associated with

the two beautiful obelisks brought from Heliopolis, represents the

popularity of the Queen, and the affectionate regard of her subjects,

rather than any participation of herself in their transport or

erection; and we are borne out in that presumption by Mr. Waynman

Dixon’s recent discovery of an inscription, engraved in Greek and Latin

on the bronze supports of the standing obelisk. The inscription to

which we refer reads as follows:—

Anno VIII. Cæsaris;—Barbarus, præfectus Ægypti, posuit;—Architectore

Pontio.

“In the eighth year of Cæsar (Augustus), Barbarus, prefect of Egypt,

erected this, Pontius being the architect.”

Now, the eighth year of the reign of Cæsar Augustus, which he himself

dated from the battle of Actium, was twenty-three years before the

birth of Christ; and, consequently, seven years after the death of

Cleopatra. It is not, however, at all improbable that Queen Cleopatra

may have designed as well as contributed to the decoration of the

palace during her lifetime, and that the setting-up of the obelisks may

have been part of her plan. History likewise informs us that this grand

palace of the Cæsars, the Cæsarium, was not finally completed until

fifty years later—namely, in the reign of Tiberius. Mr. Sharpe says

of it, that “it stood by the side of the harbour, and was surrounded

with a sacred grove. It was ornamented with porticoes, and fitted up

with libraries, paintings, and statues, and was the most lofty building

in the city. In front of this temple they set up two ancient obelisks

which had been made by Thothmes III., and carved by Rameses II.; and

which, like the other monuments of the Theban kings, have outlived

all the temples and palaces of their Greek and Roman successors. One

of the obelisks has fallen to the ground, but the other is still

standing, and bears the name of Cleopatra’s Needle.” Both obelisks, and

consequently both Needles, are reported as having been standing at the

end of the twelfth century.

And this brings us to the question:—What are these obelisks? and

more particularly:—What is the British obelisk, of which its fellow

at Alexandria is termed Cleopatra’s Needle? The answer is:—that the

sculptures on the four sides of the monument, its hieroglyphs or

sacred writing, or more popularly, its picture-writing, declare it to

be an invocation addressed to the deities of Egypt; a proclamation

of the grandeur and deserts of the Pharaoh, by whom it is dedicated;

his victories; his construction of temples and monuments; his love of

justice, and his other exalted qualities, not forgetting the erection

of this obelisk; the proclamation concluding with a prayer for health

and a strong life. In the present instance the petitioner-in-chief is

Thothmes III., and in the second place, Rameses II. Thothmes III.,

also called Thothmes the Great, was a distinguished Pharaoh, of a

distinguished dynasty, the eighteenth, renowned for its grandeur and

magnificence; and of his reign it has been said that Egypt could then

plant the boundary of her territory wherever she chose. Rameses II.

was likewise styled “Rameses the Great;” and by the Greek historian

Herodotus, Sesostris: he was a Pharaoh of the nineteenth dynasty;

in his early days a victorious soldier; and during the remainder of

his long reign, a devoted cultivator of the arts of civilisation and

peace. So that those who are discontent with the euphonious title of

“Cleopatra’s Needle,” and prefer to be rigorously precise in their

language, must contrive to familiarise their voice and their ear with

the less euphonious title of “Thothmes-Rameses obelisk.”

This obelisk bears evidence of having been constructed at the command

of Thothmes, inasmuch as the legend of that monarch occupies the place

of honour on its shaft—namely, the central portion of the face of the

monument, extending from the top to the bottom; while the two sides of

each face are devoted to that of Rameses. It is furthermore worthy of

note, that about two hundred years must have intervened between the

action of Thothmes and that of Rameses in relation to this obelisk.

And consequently that the central and side columns of hieroglyphs

represent periods of art of, at least, two centuries apart. It is also

not a little singular that a king of vast renown, like Rameses the

Great, should have preferred to publish the record of his own brilliant

titles by the side of those of his distinguished predecessor, rather

than raise a separate obelisk as an independent memorial of himself.

Was it a submissive deference to the grandeur of his ancestor? Was

it the ambition of linking his own name with that of the magnificent

Thothmes? Or was it a part of that eccentricity of character which led

him to stamp his escutcheon on several other works of his predecessors,

and in some instances to obliterate their names in order to give his

own a prominent place? In the present instance, we should be unwilling

to treat of the combination as a blot, but would rather condone the

offence—if such it be—and congratulate ourselves that the obelisk bears

the insignia of two such grand Pharaonic personages. Thothmes III.

and Rameses II. were undoubtedly the two greatest monarchs among the

Pharaohs of Egypt; and the latter, besides being remarkable for the

construction of temples and for his magnificent sculptures, was equally

so for his eagerness to render his name universal. His cartouche[7]

is to be met with extensively distributed all over Egypt, and also in

those neighbouring countries which had been conquered by the Egyptian

arms. He is the author of a considerable number of Egyptian obelisks;

and his desire to occupy with his titles every vacant space of stone,

is exhibited, not only by the writing on the British obelisk, but also

by his appropriation of two sides of two obelisks erected in the great

temple of Karnak by Thothmes the First. With respect to the age of our

own monument, it seems not improbable that the order for the British

obelisk was given about sixteen hundred years before the Christian era;

and consequently that its age, at the present time, may be taken to be

about 3,500 years.

[7] Cartouche is a word introduced into Egyptology by Champollion; it

signifies a scroll, or label, or escutcheon, on which the name of a

Pharaoh is inscribed. Early Egyptologists had had their interest and

curiosity awakened by observing the enclosure of certain hieroglyphs

within an oval outline; and further research discovered that the ovals

included hieroglyphs representing royal names and titles. The oval,

or cartouche, is to be regarded therefore as the seal, or signet, or

heraldic cypher of a king or potentate, and its presence on an obelisk

or monument confers a right of authorship or proprietorship, and

informs us to whom the monument belongs. The seal likewise typifies

_renovation_ and _immortality_, and on this account was selected as

the badge of kings, to render immortality, which all Egyptians eagerly

aspire to, the more secure. It is impossible to read Egyptian monuments

correctly without a knowledge of the royal cartouches.

We have now lying before us an engraving, for which we are indebted

to Captain Cotton, of Quex Park, in Thanet; an engraving published

by Colnaghi, in May, 1803,[8] which bears the following legend:—“The

obelisk at Alexandria, generally called Cleopatra’s Needle, as cleared

to its base by the British troops in Egypt, and similar to the one

lying by it, intended to be brought to England. From the original

drawing by Lieut.-Colonel Montresor, 80th Regiment, in the possession

of the Right Honourable the Earl of Cavan, then Commanding-in-chief

His Majesty’s forces in Egypt.” In this engraving, Cleopatra’s Needle

stands close to the sea, on a square pedestal mounted on three

step-like plinths; and is surrounded with broken arches, which may

possibly have belonged to a magnificent temple or palace; while behind

it are the towers and ruins of a part of the ancient city wall, and in

the distance, stretching away into the sea, the promontory, on which

stands the smaller lighthouse, or Pharillon. In recent photographs

little is seen of these massive and extensive ruins; the Needle is sunk

in a hole, the pedestal being lost to the sight, in a stonemason’s

yard; and the fallen obelisk is buried in the sand. “In 1849,” says

Mr. Macgregor, the celebrated canoe traveller, “this neglected gift

was only half buried; but, in 1869, it was so completely hidden, that

not even the owner of the workshop, where it lies, could point out to

me the exact spot of its sandy grave.” The Rev. Alfred Charles Smith

corroborates the forlorn condition of the fallen obelisk at about the

same date. “It is not only prostrate,” he says, “but buried beneath

a mass of rubbish; and, I doubt not, is now hopelessly covered in by

the foundations of a house, for which preparations were being made at

the time of our visit. We were so far benefited by the labours of the

workmen, that we had a better view of the prostrate obelisk than has

fallen to the lot of recent travellers, inasmuch as, in excavating

the ground at this spot, the labourers had uncovered nearly the

entire length of the recumbent granite, and as they were just about

to fill-in the earth around, I suppose we were the last tourists who

have looked in upon the open grave of this renowned relic, * * * *

though I am bound to add it is the most dilapidated, weather-worn, and

ill-conditioned of all its brethren on the banks of the Nile.” _Nous

verrons._

[8] The battle of Alexandria was fought within sight of Cleopatra’s

Needle, in March, 1801.

The term “Needle” is familiar to our ear as designating a pointed

shaft soaring upwards into the sky. In this sense we adopt it as the

name of certain pointed rocks rising perpendicularly out of the sea,

such as the “Needles” of the Isle of Wight; and it has been similarly

applied to two of the obelisks of Heliopolis, Pharaoh’s Needles, which

were removed by Constantine. It is a term peculiarly suitable to the

obelisk, which, according to Johnson, is “a magnificent high piece

of solid marble or other fine stone, having usually four faces, and

lessening upwards by degrees till it ends in a point like a pyramid.”

The term obelisk is of Greek origin, derived from the word “_obelos_,”

a spit; conveying the idea of a pointed implement; but its Arab synonym

is still more explicit—namely, “_meselleh_,” which literally means “a

packing needle or skewer;” the ancient Egyptian name of obelisk being

_tekn_.

The Egyptian obelisks have two other important features:—first, they

are monoliths, and secondly, they are hewn out of the quarries of

rose-coloured granite of Syené. By monolith is meant “a single stone,”

from the Greek words “monos,” one or single, and “lithos,” a stone, and

is intended to signify that the object is formed of a single piece;

therefore we have good reason for our wonder when we see before us a

stately shaft of granite consisting of a single piece, very little

short of a hundred feet in height, and weighing nearly two hundred

tons.[9]

[9] The real weight of the British obelisk is 186 tons, seven

hundredweight, two stones, eleven pounds; and its cubic measurement

2,529 feet.

The Egyptian obelisk has another peculiarity; it is rarely uniform

in breadth on all its four sides; the opposites agree, but the

neighbouring sides differ. This difference is clearly not intentional,

but a possible consequence of the method of splitting so gigantic a

shaft from its mother-rock. The British obelisk, for example, measures

7 feet 5 inches in breadth at its base on one side, and close upon 8

feet (7 ft. 10½ in.) on the adjoining side—a difference of five inches

and a-half; while similar measurements of the Alexandrian obelisk

give 7 feet 9¾ inches, and 8 feet 2¼ inches—a difference of only two

inches and a-half. The proper proportions of the shaft of an obelisk,

exclusive of its pyramidion, are said to be ten times the breadth of

the base. Now if we apply this rule to the British obelisk, its height

should be nearly eighty feet, whereas its extremest height, from the

base to the point, is _sixty-eight feet five inches and a-half_. From

its base of 7 feet 5, or 7 feet 10½ inches, it tapers gradually upwards

to a breadth of 4 feet 10 inches, or 5 feet 1 inch; and then contracts

into a pointed pyramid of 7 feet 6 inches high. The Alexandrian

obelisk is hardly so tall as the British obelisk, and measures 67

feet 2 inches. But when the British obelisk shall have been raised on

its pedestal of ten feet square, and mounted on plinths, the monument

will then have an altitude of over eighty feet. Comparing it with the

Paris obelisk, the latter is seventy-six feet and a-half in height,

consequently nearly eight feet higher than the British obelisk: whereas

one of Pharaoh’s Needles, set up before the Lateran Church in Rome, was

originally more than 108 feet high; but having lost part of its base,

at present measures 105 feet 7 inches.

[Illustration: The Paris obelisk, brought from Luxor, and now standing

in the Place de la Concorde. A work of Rameses II.]

The rose-coloured granite of Syené, the so-called “Syenite,” has

acquired a world-wide reputation for its beauty of colour, the lustre

of its polish, and its hardness of texture. In the dry climate of

Upper Egypt, where a rainy day occurs only four or five times in the

year, this granite may be said to be absolutely indestructible; and

therefore it is that the Egyptian sculptures and obelisks, more than

four thousand years old, come down to us almost as fresh as if they had

just issued from the workman’s hand. The engraving of the hieroglyphs

is often several inches in depth, its hollows carefully polished, and

the work comparable to the delicate carving of a gem.

But although the Egyptian climate deals tenderly with these beautiful

objects, the sand-storms are not so merciful: showers of sand are often

precipitated with the violence of small shot against the polished

stone; and the sharp particles of sand, by successive battery, leave

their impression on the surface: at first the polish alone is blurred;

but by degrees the picture-writing itself is worn away. This is

apparent on the Alexandrian obelisk, of which the two sides exposed

to the fury of the land-storms are seriously corroded, while the

sea-face is but little injured. The British obelisk shows similar marks

of wear from causes of the same kind, but has further to complain

of the rapacity of travellers, who have damaged it considerably in

their endeavours to carry away fragments of so brilliant a memorial

of ancient times. The angles of the shaft have been chipped in many

places; and as a refinement of mischief, even the perpendicular sides

of some of the hieroglyphs have likewise been chiselled away. When we

come to the patriarch of obelisks at Heliopolis, that of King Usertesen

I., we shall find that the Nile has been busy with its sheen, and has

left his mark of annual overflow on the lower part of its shaft; whilst

elsewhere we have the account of a fragment of an ancient obelisk set

up in the midst of a garden, in the perfumed atmosphere of luxuriant

flowers, in which the wild bees have puttied up the channels of the

hieroglyphics with their tenacious combs. But another and a graver

trial is in waiting for our obelisk:—How will it accommodate itself to

the climate of the British metropolis? It will endure: of that we can

have no doubt; neither will it fail in our respect and admiration even

when it has lost some of its pristine loveliness, and has submitted to

harmonise its tone with the dulness of its surroundings.

The hewing, the carving, and the burnishing of one of these huge

monoliths, under any circumstances, must have been a laborious

undertaking, and have required a considerable period for its

completion. Thus we are in formed that one of the obelisks of

Heliopolis, one of Pharaoh’s Needles, a work of Thothmes III., occupied

thirty-six years in its elaboration. It is the tallest of its race, and

now stands as a memorial of the Emperors Constantine and Constantius,

in front of the Lateran Church at Rome; whereas another obelisk, now

standing at Karnak (also of the Thothmes period, but executed under the

direction of Queen Hatasou, daughter of Thothmes I., and sister of the

second and third Thothmes), is stated, in an inscription on its base,

to have been, with its fellow, hewn from the quarry and erected in the

short period of seven months. Queen Hatasou’s obelisk is the second in

altitude of the obelisk family, measuring 97 feet 6 inches;[10] while

that of St. John Lateran, when entire, measured about 108 feet.

[10] Queen Hatasou’s obelisk has been stated to be 108 feet high; but

M. Mariette, who makes this statement in one of his books—in a more

recent work, calls it as above, 97 feet 6 inches, which is probably

correct.

It has been suggested as probable that the obelisk was brought, in

the rough state, to the spot where it was to stand, and that it was

smoothed and polished there previously to its erection. And a farther

question arises:—Was it erected plain, and afterwards carved in the

erect position, or was it carved before it was set up? If the former

of these suppositions be admitted, then the hewing and erecting of the

pair of monoliths in seven months is not so marvellous, especially

when we call to mind the vast number of artificers always at the

command of the Egyptian Government. There is clear evidence that

carving after erection was practicable, and not unusual; for it must

have been in the erect position that the side columns of engraving

were added to the British obelisk by Rameses, and no doubt that also

on the Thothmes obelisk at Karnak. The inscription on the base of

Queen Hatasou’s obelisk affords an additional argument in proof of the

ornamentation of the column being subsequent to erection, inasmuch as

it informs us that the whole shaft was gilt from top to bottom; and

although, at the present time, all trace of gold has vanished, the

surface of the stone bears evidence of having been left rough, as if

prepared to receive a thin coating of plaster such as was in common

use among the builders of the temples, when painting was resorted to;

the hollows of the carvings being left smooth and polished. The same

inscription likewise states that the obelisk was capped with gold, the

spoils of war, wrested from the enemies of the country.

Pliny the younger, after mentioning the Syenite granite as sown with

fiery spots, remarks, that a certain king of Egypt was admonished in

a dream to set up obelisks. “The kings of Egypt,” he says, “in times

past, as it were upon a strife and contention one to exceed another,

made of this stone certain long beames, which they called obelisks,

and the very Egyptian name implieth so much.” Rameses, he observes,

“pitched on end another obeliske which carried in length a hundred

foot, wanting one, and on every side four cubits square.”[11] “It

is said that Ramises above named kept 2,000 men at work about this

obeliske;” and to secure its safe erection, “caused his own son to be

bound to the top thereof. * * * Certes, this obeliske was a piece of

work so admirable, that when Cambyses had won the city where it stood,

by assault, and put all within to fire and sword, and burnt all before

him as far as to the very foundation and underpinning of the obeliske,

commanded expressly to quench the fire; and so, in a kind of reverence,

yet unto a mass and pile of stone, spared it, who had no regard at all

of the city besides.”[12]

[11] This may have been one of the Luxor obelisks, notwithstanding

the alleged difference of height; since even, at the present day, the

figures of Egyptologists are remarkably unreliable.

[12] “The Historie of the World,” commonly called the “Natural Historie

of C. Plinius, secundus.” Translated into English by Philemon Holland,

Doctor of Physicke; 1634: book 36, chap. 8.

When the obelisk was completed at Syené, the next step was that of its

removal to the spot where it was destined to stand. This was usually

effected by excavating beneath it a dry dock, and fixing therein two

large barges. When all was properly adjusted, the water was let into

the dock, and as the barges rose they lifted up their burden, and

formed a raft, which was then floated down the stream of the Nile.

In the case of the British obelisk, the destination of the raft was

Heliopolis, a distance, as the crow flies, of nearly 600 miles:

subsequently, as we know, the obelisk was conveyed to Alexandria,

adding nearly 150 miles more, and making a real total of 730 miles. And

if to these figures we allow 3,000 for the journey home, we have reason

to hail our obelisk as a not inconsiderable traveller.

We can hardly be surprised that the Greeks and the Romans should have

been fascinated with the delicate beauty of the obelisks, and should

have desired to possess them. Two hundred and eighty-four years before

the birth of Christ, Ptolemy Philadelphus built a tomb for his wife

Arsinoë at Alexandria, which he enriched with an obelisk fifty-six feet

high. The obelisk had been cut, as usual, in the quarry of Syené during

the reign of the last of the Egyptian Pharaohs, Nectanebo II.; it had

not been engraved, but its date may be stated as about six hundred

years before the Christian era. The architect, Satyrus, transported it

in a somewhat similar manner to that already described. “He dug a canal

to it as it lay upon the ground, and moved two heavily-laden barges

underneath it. The burdens were then taken out of the barges, and as

they floated higher they raised the obelisk off the ground. He then

found it a task as great, or greater, to set it up in its place; and

this Greek engineer would surely have looked back with wonder on the

labour and knowledge of mechanics which must have been used in setting

up the obelisks, colossal statues, and pyramids which he saw scattered

over the country.” It was erected, according to Pliny, “in the haven

of Arsinoë * * * but for that it did hurt to the ship docks there, one

Maximus, a governor of Egypt under the Romans, removed it from thence

into the market-place of the said city (Rome), cutting off the top of

it, intending to put a finial thereupon gilded, which afterwards was

forelet and forgotten.” This description corresponds with that of the

obelisk now standing behind the church of St. Maria Maggiore, in Rome,

which is wanting both in inscription and pyramidion; but its present

height is stated to be only 48 feet 5 inches, in lieu of 56 feet. This

latter circumstance may be accounted for on the supposition of its

having been broken before it was finally erected at Rome—an accident by

no means unusual with the Roman obelisks—and by the probable squaring

of its base for the purpose of securing a steadier foundation.

The Emperor Augustus, the conqueror of the last of the Ptolemies, and

pioneer of the Roman dynasty, who took possession of the throne of

Egypt thirty years before the Christian era, signalised his artistic

taste by sending four beautiful obelisks to Rome: one of the period

of Seti I. and his son Rameses II.; one of that of Psammeticus II.;

and two without inscription or pyramidion, of which one is ascribed

to Nectanebo. These obelisks now occupy places of honour in Rome—one

in the Piazza del Popolo, the elegant Flaminian obelisk; one on the

Piazza de Monte Citorio; one behind the church of St. Maria Maggiore;

and the remaining one in the Piazza Quirinale. That on the Monte

Citorio was originally planted in front of the church of St. Lorenzo in

Lucina, where it acted as the gnomon or pointer of a sun-dial erected

by Augustus; and the two plain obelisks were set up in front of his

mausoleum.

The means employed by Augustus for the transport of these obelisks was

a galley propelled by 300 oars-men. The war-ships of the Greek and

Roman dynasties were sometimes of imposing magnitude and strength,

and were furnished with a number of rams. One of these ships “was 420

feet long, and fifty-seven feet wide, with forty banks of oars. The

longest oars were fifty-seven feet long, and weighted with lead at the

handles, that they might be the more easily moved. This huge ship

was to be rowed by 4,000 rowers; its sails were to be shifted by 400

sailors, and 3,000 soldiers were to stand in ranks upon deck. There

were seven beaks in front, by which it was to strike and sink the ships

of the enemy. The royal barge in which the king and Court moved on the

quiet waters of the Nile, was nearly as large as this ship of war. It

was 330 feet long, and forty-five feet wide.”

This maritime power of Egypt calls to mind two leading prejudices of

the ancient Egyptians, which very much influenced their destiny: they

were averse to change, preferring, in all things, to remain as they

were, rather than risk the uncertainty of reform; and, secondly, they

had a religious horror of the ocean, believing it to be a breach of

the divine law to endeavour to subdue it, and attempt to navigate it.

Therefore, when we hear of ships from Alexandria finding their way

through the Pillars of Hercules (otherwise the Straits of Gibraltar) to

England, we recognise at once the adventure of neighbouring nations,

particularly that of the Phœnicians, who traded with Cornwall,

exchanging wheat for metal more than five hundred years before the

Christian era. The last of the Egyptian kings, Nectanebo II., made a

struggle against this ancient prejudice, and fitted up a fleet in the

Red Sea, manned by Phœnicians. His ships, steering steadily to the

south, and afterwards following the line of the coast, succeeded in

rounding the Cape of Good Hope, and reaching the Straits of Gibraltar,

and so accomplished the circumnavigation of Africa. The voyage lasted

between two and three years, and the captain returned in safety to

Egypt, but without his ships; he consequently failed to obtain credit

for, or belief in, his success.

[Illustration:

The obelisk at Constantinople, standing in the open

space of the Atmeidan, near the church of St.

Sophia. It is square at the base, and supported at

the corners upon four small metallic blocks, which

rest on a narrow pedestal. Its present height is

only fifty feet; but seeing that it was originally

the companion at Heliopolis of the great obelisk

of St. John Lateran, it must therefore have been

shortened, possibly as a consequence of accident.

It was conveyed to Byzantium by Constantine,

and erected on its present site, probably by

Theodosius. The figure is not to be commended for

its exactness; the monument is evidently much too

tall. The mosque in the background is that of the

Sultan Achmet.

]

Constantine, the first Christian among the emperors of Rome, conveyed

to Byzantium, as a decoration for his new city of Constantinople, an

obelisk of the period of Thothmes III., which now graces the Atmeidan,

or Hippodrome: it stood originally at Heliopolis, and was one of the

Needles of Pharaoh. He likewise, in all probability, sent to Arles

the obelisk which is now standing in that city. It was found, in

later times, grown over with bushes, and partly buried in a garden at

the port of La Roquette. Charles the Second and Catherine de Medicis

ordered its disinterment, and it was erected at Arles, as a memorial

of Louis the Great, in the year 1676. Constantine directed the removal

of another obelisk from Heliopolis, and this he also intended for

Constantinople; but dying previously to its arrival at Alexandria,

it was conveyed to Rome by his son Constantius. This latter is the

beautiful obelisk set up in the Piazza of St. John Lateran at Rome: it

is the tallest obelisk known; and although it has lost three feet of

its base, measures at present 105 feet 7 inches. It bears the signets

of Thothmes III. and Thothmes IV., and is the obelisk previously

mentioned as having occupied thirty-six years in the preparation. The

temple of Serapis at Alexandria formerly possessed two fine obelisks,

but both have now disappeared; they, probably, may also have found

their way to Rome. The ruins of this temple were called the citadel;

and all that remains of both is Pompey’s Pillar, which was erected in

one of the principal courts of the temple.

[Illustration: Pompey’s Pillar at Alexandria.]

Pompey’s Pillar is a magnificent column, placed on a hillock just

outside the walls of the old town. It is cut out of red syenic granite;

is beautifully polished, and is said to be the largest monolithic

pillar in the world; its total height, according to Captain Smyth,

being 99 feet 4¾ inches; or, in round numbers, 100 feet, including

the pedestal; its girth, near the base, being nearly 28 feet. It is

surmounted with a Corinthian capital, of a differently coloured granite

from that of the shaft, and of inferior workmanship, and stands on a

short stump of a broken obelisk about four feet high, inverted, and

built into the pedestal; the surface of the obelisk being covered with

hieroglyphs. The column was ascended by the French in 1798, and by

Captain Smyth in the spring of 1822. Captain Smyth wished to ascertain

its qualification for astronomical purposes; but found it too unsteady

for delicate observations; and, moreover, that it had an inclination

to the south-west, in the direction opposite to that of the prevailing

north-east wind. It has an inscription on the pedestal, which cost much

time and perseverance to make out,[13] and was at length deciphered as

follows:—

“Consecrated to the adorable Emperor Augustus

Diocletian, the tutelar divinity of Alexandria,

by Pontius, prefect of Egypt.”

[13] A French writer, referring to the decipherment of this

inscription, which, as it appears, was an onerous undertaking,

observes:—“This scientific labour fell to the lot of two British

soldiers, Captain Dundas and Lieutenant Desarde, and to them we are

indebted for the discovery of ‘a page of history, and a splendid

page.’”

This inscription clearly settles the personality of the column, and is

an answer to those by whom it has been called “The Pillar of Severus,”

and “The Pillar of Hadrian.” One author believes that it might have

been erected by Ptolemy Euergetes, as a record of the recovery of

some thousands of pictures and statues which had been carried off by

Cambyses. But the true story appears to be this:—In the year 297 of

the existing era, Egypt had risen in rebellion against her rulers,

and Alexandria, always contumacious, was subdued by Diocletian after

a siege of eight months. Diocletian, riding among the obstructions

which encumbered the fallen city, was nearly thrown from his horse.

His escape from accident doubtless prompted a grateful feeling in his

heart towards the Father of Mercies, and he erected this pillar as

a witness of his faith, surmounting it with a statue of his horse,

which has long since disappeared. Nevertheless, the ancient prejudices

of our affections are ever ready to spring forth, like buried seeds

in a garden; and a deep-felt regard for the old consul, Pompey, who

had been so treacherously assassinated on the shores of Egypt, now

competes with the better claims of Diocletian for the honour of this

magnificent memorial; just as the obelisks of Alexandria will, to the

end of time, ever be remembered in association with the memory of

Cleopatra.

We have advanced at present no further than the portal of the country

which stands supreme in the production of these interesting relics of

former grandeur, the obelisks; and yet we have made acquaintance with

nearly twenty which have emigrated from their native land. Rome is the

fortunate possessor of ten; France, of two; Constantinople, of two;

and England, of Cleopatra’s Needle and four or five smaller ones. Let

us now take a step further onwards, and visit them in their parental

home. Four hours and a-half in the railway-train (express) suffice to

transport us from Alexandria to Cairo, a distance of 130 miles. Cairo,

the queen of Eastern cities, is the present metropolis of Egypt, the

seat of its government, and the residence of its ruler, Ismail Pasha,

the Khedive, Viceroy of the Sultan of Turkey. It is situated at the

apex or head of the Delta, and forms the nob of the fan, of which the

ribs, radiating northwards towards the sea, are the seven branches of

the Nile; or, we may prefer to regard it as one of the three points of

the triangle termed Delta; Alexandria and Port Said, 140 miles apart,

occupying the other two points. Port Said, indeed, is bidding fair

to become the rival of Alexandria, and will grow in importance with

the Suez Canal, of which it is the entrance. Already we hear of the

defences of the sea-board between Alexandria and Port Said, and the

protection of a work which is identified with the intrinsic prosperity

of England. An Egyptian Bournemouth or Torquay, in the meantime, has

established itself on the line of the canal, and invalids are already

migrating for health to Ismailia, to luxuriate in the balmy and

exhilarating climate of Egypt.

Cairo is comparatively a modern city, being 1,200 years the junior of

Alexandria, and possesses few traces of antiquity. A fragment of an

obelisk helps to pave one of its entrance-gates—alas! to what base uses

fallen!—probably a work of Usertesen, of Thothmes, or of Rameses. But

if we turn our back upon the Delta, the land of prolific produce, the

battle-field of many centuries, and the grave of innumerable ancient

cities, and gaze towards the south, we see before us that wonderful

river, which, rising in the bosom of Africa, and bursting through the

granite rocks of Syené—the As-souan, or gate of Egypt—precipitates

itself, a foaming cataract,[14] into the valley of Egypt, and pursues

its meandering course, without tributary and without bridge, for

more than 600 miles in a straight line from Syené to Cairo. It is

a river of poetry and of fertility; for nine months of the year the

northern breeze (the Etesian wind) blows against its stream from

early morning until night, to waft the travellers, in the sylph-like

Nile-boat, called Dahabeeyah, through their journey of health and

recreation. At night the boat is moored for its rest; the wind is lost

in sleep, but wakens to its duties in the early morn; while rain is a

thing almost unknown. In the month of June the Nile rises at Syené;

and during August, September, and October, the low flat land of the

Delta is converted into a sheet of water, which diffuses richness and

fruitfulness throughout the grimy soil.

[14] The fall of the Nile at Syené, or As-souan, is termed the first

cataract, in consideration of its being the first of seven similar

falls which occur in the course of that river. It is in reality the

only fall in Egypt, the second being in Nubia, 200 miles higher up.

Strictly speaking, it is not a cataract, but a succession of rapids

three miles in length, and studded with rocks. The ascent of the

Dahabeeyah is made without danger between these rocks and through the

more practicable channels; but the descent brings to view dangerous

cataracts of considerable force and volume, demanding much experience

and ability on the part of the captain to shoot them with safety,

and a well-built boat to bear the shock. Hence a prime care of the

traveller, before starting from Cairo, is to secure a vessel capable

of encountering the risks of the cataract. The second cataract, from

its greater extent and more numerous rocks, is practically impassable.

The abundance of the rocks in its bed has suggested for it the Arab

expression of “the belly of stone.”

Lady Duff Gordon, in her agreeable “Letters from Egypt,” under date

1863-5 (the time of the mutiny), tells us how she passed a winter at

El-Uksur, residing in the French house—a ruinous building, which had

been occupied by the French officers who had charge of the expedition

for conveying the Luxor Obelisk to Paris. She takes especial note

of “a whole wet day,” as an event unknown in Thebes for ten years.

During her residence in Upper Egypt, she watched the annual rising

of the Nile, and remarks that the water was at first green, and soon

after blood-red; the apparent colour being, in both cases, probably

due to refraction of light. Some authors speak of the waters of the

Nile as being greenish-brown, and brown; and others as yellow. Mr. A.

C. Smith calls the Nile “yellow, muddy, and sluggish:” when filtered

it throws down a considerable deposit of mud, containing an abundance

of organic matter, but is then sweet, soft, and peculiarly palatable.

As an example of Egyptian veneration for the grand old river, Lady

Duff Gordon observes, that whenever a marriage is celebrated, and the

bridegroom has “taken the face” of his bride—that is, has looked upon

that which is habitually concealed from view, namely, the face—she is

conducted to the river bank to gaze upon the Nile.

Lady Duff Gordon, who had a warm heart for every living thing, tells

us a story which is worthy of reflected thought even in the sunny

atmosphere of the mysterious obelisk. She had a Nubian child offered

her as a slave: when she went to look after the gift, she found it

among the pots and kettles, cuffed and ill-treated by every one,

saving perhaps only the dog. She brought it to her room, warmed it

in her bosom, dressed it, and made it comfortable; nay, indulged it,

and won its confidence—in the world’s language, its love. The child

wept sorely when its good and kind mistress returned home to England;

but the mistress provided tenderly for her adopted, and secured its

comforts during her absence. When Lady Duff Gordon returned to Egypt,

the little negress held a prominent place in her thoughts: she took

it again into her guardianship; but the child was no longer the same;

she was self-willed, she was disobedient; the slave had learnt—alas!

too readily—to despise her mistress! holding her to be an accursed

Christian, a giaour. Verily the father of all evil is ignorance,

which for ever stands sentry over the tree of knowledge. Need we not

all—charity?

On our right hand, as we look forward into the south, is the site

of ancient Memphis, founded by Menes, first of the kings of Egypt.

Here stood once a magnificent temple, dedicated to the god Ptah, the

representative of “Creation;” but at present, a collection of ruinous

tombs, together with some broken colossal statues, partly engulphed

in sand, are all that remains of its original greatness. One of these

relics, a colossal statue of Rameses the Great, is believed to belong

to England, and only awaits removal to a fitting resting-place. It

has the reputation of being beautifully carved in fine sandstone, but

is corroded and blackened by the action of water, in which it lies

immersed at every rising of the Nile. Dean Stanley, in allusion to this

same locality, observes:—

“One other trace remains of the old Memphis. It had its own great

temple, as magnificent as that of Ammon at Karnak, dedicated to the

Egyptian Vulcan, Ptah. Of this not a vestige remains. But Herodotus

describes that Sesostris—that is, Rameses—built a colossal statue of

himself in front of the great gateway. And there, accordingly, as it

is usually seen by travellers, is the last memorial of that wonderful

king, to be borne away in their recollections of Egypt. Deep in the

forest of palms before described, in a little pool of water left by

the inundations, which year by year always cover the spot, lies a

gigantic trunk, its back upwards. The name of Rameses is on the belt.

The face lies downwards, but is visible in profile and quite perfect,

and the very same as at Ipsambul, with the only exception that the

features are more feminine and more beautiful, and the peculiar hang

of the lip is not there.” Of the immediate neighbourhood he says:—“For

miles you walk through layers of bones and skulls, and mummy swathings,

extruding from the sand, or deep down in shaft-like mummy-pits; and

amongst these mummy-pits are vast galleries filled with mummies of

ibises in red jars, once filled, but now gradually despoiled.”

Mr. Bayle St. John, who, for his heresies in Egyptology and floutings

of obelisks, almost puts himself out of the pale of quotation, has

a word to say about the colossal statue at Memphis, which is worth

noting as expressing the views of the tranquil lounger rather than

those of the hurried traveller. In his “Village Life in Egypt”

(1852), he says:—“After a long ride, a reedy pond covered with wild

ducks, a stone bridge, and some sluice-gates, warned us that we were

approaching the buried skeleton of Memphis. Vast mounds rose on all

hands among the palm-trees, evidently the remains of a continuous wall

of unburnt bricks, and we were soon moving along the sward-covered

sloping banks of the lake, in which the palm-groves that cover the

site of the ancient city, admire their graceful forms. Behind, in a

hollow in the ground, was the colossal statue which we had come to

see. It lay on its face, its pensive brow buried in mud, and part of

the features concealed by some still-lingering water. The Arabs call

it Abu-l-Hôn, and say it is a giant king, turned by God, ‘in ancient

times and seasons past,’ into stone for some great crime. They are not

at all astonished at the interest felt by infidels in this petrified

sinner, because we come of the same accursed stock, and feel deserving

of the same punishment. A few hovels rising amidst the palm-trees

near the statue, bear the name of Mitraheny, formerly a place of

some importance, but now not even wearing the appearance of having

seen better days. Here dwelt old Fatmeh, the guardian of the fallen

monarch, who could have told strange things of his history, had any

been curious enough to question her.” On another occasion he says:

“The following morning I went to visit my old friend Abu-l-Hôn, the

father of terror, who still lies nose down in the hollow at Mitraheny,

as he has lain for thousands of years. It is a pretty long walk, first

through the grove to Bedreshein, and then along the winding gisr to

the great grove of Mitraheny. The place is a beautiful one. A small

lake in the cooler time of the year, before the thirsty sun comes

and drinks up every scrap of moisture except the river, spreads in

the centre of the grove, dotted with little islands, that multiply

as the season advances. A close greensward, from which thousands of

palms spring at regular intervals, creeps down on all sides after the

receding water * * * immense numbers of aquatic birds make it their

resort. About sunrise it is perfectly covered with wild ducks, which

come back regularly at evening after dark. Herons dot its shores all

day, admiring, it seems, their ungainly forms, which it reflects; and

a variety of little birds, peculiar to the country, flutter with

dancing flight about its archipelago of sedgy islands. * * * The statue

was near the southern extremity of the lake. During many years it was

under the protection of an old dame, who entirely devoted herself to

its custody. Formerly, various consuls gave her a little pension;

but this gratuity was at length withdrawn, and she subsisted on the

voluntary gifts of travellers, always believing, however, that the

English nation would at length hear of the care she took of their

property, and reward her by a pension of £5 a year. Such was the extent

of her ambition. In this hope she lived and died. I found her son

occupying the same post, and indulging in the same expectations. He had

inherited her little house and some sheep, and professed to do nothing

but watch over the comfort of the petrified king in the hole. * * * It

would be good, instead of spending a great deal of money in carrying

_an ugly obelisk_[15] to England, to devote a little to raising this

extraordinary statue on its old base, otherwise, some fine day we shall

hear of its being broken up to be burnt for lime.”

[15] And this to your friend, Bayle? Hast forgotten thy school

lessons:—Quot homines tot sententiæ.

This colossal statue is recognised as an authentic portrait of Rameses

II., “the celebrated conqueror, of the nineteenth dynasty.” It was

discovered, says Mariette, by Captain Caviglia, about the year 1820,

and was presented to the British nation by Mehemet Ali. For three parts

of the year it lies under water. There is reason to believe that it

stood originally against the pylon of the Temple of Vulcan (Ptah),

its face turned to the north; but of the temple itself not a vestige

remains. According to custom, as evinced at Luxor and Karnak, there

ought to have been another similar statue for the opposite side of

the doorway, but we have searched for it in vain. Beyond the fact of

correct portraiture it possesses no scientific value. According to

Sharpe, the statue is forty-five feet in height.

Further on is Geezeh, with its magnificent group of pyramids, which

are regarded, with much reason, as among the seven wonders of the

world; and skirting the western bank of the river for, may be, fifty

miles are other pyramids of inferior dimensions, amounting in the

whole to close upon a hundred; one while in groups, as at Abooseer,

Sakkarah, and Dashoor, another while in single file. The largest of the

three great pyramids of Egypt was built by King Suphis, better known

by the name of Cheops, as a resting-place for his embalmed body; the

next in size was erected by his brother Susuphis or Chephren; and the

third, which was cased in the red granite of Syené, is that of the

son of Cheops—Menkara, also called Mycerinus. Besides these three,

which are the _great_[16] pyramids, there are six smaller ones in this

group: and, fifteen miles further on, at the village of Sakkarah, is a

pyramid built in steps, or platforms, which is said to be the oldest

in the world;[17] older, by 500 or 700 years, than those of Cheops and

Chephren; although these latter were erected 2,120 years before the

birth of Christ, and, therefore, date back to a period of nearly 5,000

years.

[16] The base of the great pyramid has been stated to be equal in

size to the area of Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields; but a “plan showing the

comparative areas of the great pyramid and Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields,” drawn

by Mr. Bonomi, of the Soane Museum, proves that this statement is

correct only in respect of the long diameter of the square; for whilst

one side of the base of the pyramid would extend westward from the wall

of Lincoln’s Inn (along the face of the houses on the _north_ side of

the square) to the middle of Gate Street, the southern boundary would

overlap the buildings on the south side of the square, and take in

the houses for some distance behind them, in the direction of the New

Law Courts. A magnificent mausoleum! It is said that 100,000 men were

employed for thirty years in its construction.

[17] Built by Ouenephes, the fourth king of the first dynasty. Mr.

Bayle St. John says of it:—“This structure has a very peculiar form,

and as it rises on its vast pedestal of rocky desert, seems totally

distinct in character from all the other pyramids that break the

horizon to the north and south. It has five steps only, five vast

steps, that together rise to the height of nearly 300 feet. It looks

like a citadel with a quintuple wall, five towers of gradually

increasing elevation, one within the other.”

[Illustration: The Sphynx, with the great pyramid of Chafra, Susuphis

or Chephren in the background.]

A quarter of a mile to the south and east of the great pyramid is the

colossal statue of the Sphynx, carved out of the summit of a rock,

which crops up like an island in the midst of the sandy desert. The

statue represents the couching body of a lion, with the head of a

man, the union of power with intelligence, and is typical of royalty.

The face, thirty feet in length by fourteen in breadth, has been much

mutilated; its entire height is 100 feet, and its paws, which are

fifty feet long, embrace a considerable area, having in its centre

a sacrificial altar, and a space for religious worship. This huge

memento of the past dates back to a period antecedent to the pyramids

themselves, and marks the spot where two ancient temples formerly

stood, one dedicated to Isis, the other to Osiris; both of which Cheops

declares, on a tablet preserved in the museum at Boulak, were purified

and restored by himself; whilst a neighbouring site was selected for

the foundation of his own pyramid. The paws of the Sphynx are covered

with inscriptions, among which is the following very interesting one,

transcribed and translated by the distinguished Egyptologist, Dr.

Thomas Young:—

“Thy form stupendous here the gods have placed,

Sparing each spot of harvest-bearing land;

And with this mighty work of art have graced

A rocky isle encumbered once with sand;

And near the pyramids have bid thee stand:

Not that fierce Sphynx that Thebes erewhile laid waste,

But great Latona’s servant, mild and bland;

Watching that prince beloved who fills the throne

Of Egypt’s plains, and calls the Nile his own:

That heavenly monarch (who his foes defies),

Like Vulcan powerful, and like Pallas wise.”—_Arrian._

“Even now,” writes Dean Stanley, “after all that we have seen of

colossal statues, there was something stupendous in the sight of that

enormous head, * * * its vast projecting wig, its great ears, its open

eyes, the red colour still visible on its cheek, the immense projection

of the lower part of its face. Yet what must it have been when on its

head there was the royal helmet of Egypt; on its chin the royal beard;

when the stone pavement, by which men approached the pyramids, ran up

between its paws; when, immediately under its breast an altar stood,

from which the smoke went up into the gigantic nostrils of that nose

now vanished from the face, never to be conceived again.”[18]

[18] “Sinai and Palestine in connection with their History.” By Arthur

Penrhyn Stanley, D.D., F.R.S.

On our left hand, as we still stand gazing forward into the south, in

the direction of the coming wavelets of the tawny Nile, is a desert

plain, afore-time called the “Land of Goshen,” lying between Cairo

and the Suez Canal. It was here that Abraham found an abiding-place

1,920 years before the birth of Christ, when, driven out of Syria by

the floods, he sought in Egypt herbage for his flocks and herds, and

sustenance for his retainers. Here, in various stages of decay, are

the ancient cities of the Hebrews, where Hebrew, until very recently,

was the prevailing language of the people. Here we find On, or Onion,

still bearing its Hebrew appellation, and Rameses and Pithom, and

Succoth and Hieropolis. Nearer the Mediterranean Sea is “the field

of Zoan” (Psalms, chap. lxxviii. ver. 12, 43), with the ruins of the

ancient city of San, or Tanis, remarkable for the vast extent of the

foundation of a once magnificent temple, teeming with monuments and

obelisks. Here, says Mr. Macgregor, “you see about a dozen obelisks,

all fallen, all broken; twenty or thirty great statues, all monoliths

of porphyry and granite, red and grey.” Isaiah had afore-time levelled

his reproaches against San:—“The princes of Zoan are become fools, the

princes of Nopth (Memphis) are deceived; they have also seduced Egypt,

even they that are the stay of the tribes thereof.” (Chap. xix. ver.

13.) And here was the gap through which the nations of Arabia, Syria,

and Persia maintained intercourse with Egypt, one while as peaceful

traders, another while as fugitives and outlaws, and again as enemies

in arms. Here the shepherds or pastors made their predatory incursions,

and conquered and subjected Lower Egypt; here the children of Israel

began their exodus; and here, also, the Persians, the Greeks, and the

Romans found an easy portal for their hostile invasion.

Eight miles away from Cairo, in the midst of a plot of sugar-cane,

verdant with the luxuriance of its foliage, there stands forth

against the sky a magnificent obelisk, the first that we have yet

seen implanted on the spot where it was erected by its artificers.

This obelisk bears the cartouche of Usertesen I.[19] (a Pharaoh of

the twelfth dynasty, who ascended the throne 1,740 years before the

Christian era), engraven on its face. It is not only the earliest

and most ancient of all known obelisks, but it may be said to be the

first page of the monumental history of Egypt: antecedent to it there

is no record of monuments, save the pyramids and some ruined temples

and tombs; but coeval with it, and illustrating the reign and acts of

Usertesen, are the tombs of Beni Hassan, and the sanctuary, with its

beautiful polygonal columns at Karnak, built by Usertesen himself.

[19] In hieroglyphic writing the vowels are generally omitted, and

a license is thereby given to insert them according to the taste or

judgment of the translator: thus, if we assume the consonants s, r, ts,

n, to represent a name, that name may be variously written, Usertesen,

Ousertesen, Osertesen, Osirtasen, Osortasen, and so forth; and so

much difference of opinion on this matter would seem to prevail among

Egyptologists, that scarcely two can be found to precisely agree; and

the same remark applies to other proper names:—for example, Thothmes,

Thoutmes, Thothmosis; and Rameses, Ramses, Remeses, Ramisis, &c. Under

these circumstances we have thought well to adopt the names sanctioned

by the great British authority on Egyptology, Dr. Birch, of the British

Museum.

[Illustration:

The obelisk of Usertesen at Heliopolis, the most

ancient obelisk in existence. In the background

may be seen the Mokattan range of mountains, the

barrier between the valley of Egypt and the Red Sea.

]

The cartouches of Usertesen, as seen on the obelisk, represent his

first and second names: the former, which implies divinity, consists

of the sun’s disk, a scarabæus, and a pair of human arms; and the

oval is surmounted with two figures—a shoot of a plant and a bee,

each supported on a hemisphere. These latter are royal titles, and

imply the dominion of the king, or sun, over the south and the north,

in addition to that part of the globe which is embraced by his own

proper path, from east to west. The second oval contains the letters

which constitute the word “Usertesen,” and is surmounted by a disk

representing the sun and a goose, the latter being the hieroglyph for

“son,” therefore, “son of the sun.” So that the entire emblem may be

supposed to read thus:—“The king; born and being of the sun; son of the

sun; Usertesen.”

[Illustration: The Cartouches of Usertesen.]

On the spot occupied by this obelisk there formerly stood a temple

dedicated to the sun—to Ra, the rising sun; and to Toum or Tum, the

setting sun. It is uncertain whether Usertesen founded the temple

himself, or whether, as was the custom among the Pharaohs of Egypt,

he simply contributed to its decoration and completion. But his name

being sculptured on the face of the obelisk, serves to identify it with

him. The temple of the sun was surrounded with habitations and temples

of inferior mark, and became a city which, in their language, the

Greeks named Heliopolis. Originally, there were two of these obelisks,

as was lately corroborated by the discovery of the foundation of its

fellow; but the shaft itself has long since disappeared, and nothing,

save this one solitary obelisk, remains of the important city, in

which Egyptians and Hebrews were united for many centuries in holy

brotherhood. This monument, like the rest of the great obelisks of

Egypt, was hewn in the quarries of rose-red granite of Syené. It is

67 feet 4 inches in height, and its pyramidion, now bare and without

carving, was originally capped with gilt-bronze or some other metallic

covering. Its hieroglyphs form a single central column, boldly and

clearly carved, surmounted with the tutelar emblem and the standard of

the king, and followed by the proper name and family name of Usertesen.

The obelisk is stained for some distance up its shaft by the waters of

the Nile, and, with its pedestal, is buried six or seven feet deep in

the alluvium deposited by the stream.

While we credit Usertesen with these two obelisks, we have also to

mention that portions of a broken shaft, engraven with hieroglyphs,

which record his name, are to be met with at Biggig, in the Fyoom.

These have been described as parts of a broken obelisk, but of an

obelisk uncouth in its proportions, and terminated by a rounded point

pierced with an opening as if for the purpose of receiving some

ornament or finial. These characteristics of figure have led certain

Egyptologists to treat of it as a monumental stone or tablet rather

than as an obelisk, and the more so as it is situated on the western

bank of the Nile; and supposing it to be an obelisk, is presumed to

be the only monument of that kind met with on the western shore. A

certain poetical hypothesis is also opposed to the belief; for the

obelisk is the emblem of the _rising_ sun and of life, and is therefore

found only on the eastern bank of the Nile; whereas the western bank

is presided over by the _setting_ sun, and is therefore allied to the

pyramids and tombs of the dead. The mounds of Memphis have not as yet

been explored; but if an obelisk should be met with there at some

future time, our dream of the privileges of the living and of the dead

(already disturbed by Mariette’s discovery of the pedestals of two

obelisks, in front of the temple of Queen Hatasou, in Western Thebes),

must share the fate of other pretty but illusory dreams. It seems

hardly fair that the eastern bank should enjoy a monopoly of the sun’s

beaming rays, considering that tombs are also abundant along its rocky

bounds.

But besides the ancient obelisks of Usertesen, there were four or more

other obelisks at Heliopolis: two, which had received the name of

Pharaoh’s Needles, and were removed by Constantine—both of the period

of Thothmes III.; and the two Thothmes-Rameses obelisks, or Cleopatra’s

Needles, which were set up at Alexandria.

When Napoleon, addressing his army in the desert of Libya, and pointing

to the Pyramids, exclaimed, “Four thousand years look down upon you,”

his words had a deeper signification than the mere wakening up of a

soldier’s vanity. What, besides, have those Pyramids witnessed in

that vast space of time? We now, in our turn, are called upon to ask

the same question with reference to the obelisks of Heliopolis. The

most ancient of those obelisks bears a date of seventeen centuries

before the Christian era; not far short of the four thousand years of

the Great Pyramids. The Thothmes obelisks date back about fourteen

centuries before Christ, or more than three thousand years from the

present time; and those of Rameses about twelve centuries, or 3,100

years.

The Heliopolis obelisk, it is true, was not erected until two hundred

years after the arrival of Abraham in the land of Goshen; but it must

have “looked down” on the caravan of Ishmaelite traders who brought

Joseph a prisoner into Egypt, and sold him to Potiphar as a slave;

on his sufferings and adventures in prison; on his skill in the

interpretation of dreams; on his elevation to power by the Pharaoh of

the day; and on that gratifying ceremony, when “Pharaoh called Joseph’s

name Zaphnath-paaneah,” literally, revealer of secrets, “and when he

gave him to wife Asenath, the daughter of Potipherah, priest of On.”

And no less does the obelisk point to that moment of filial devotion

when “Joseph made ready his chariot, and went up to meet Israel his

father, to Goshen; and presented himself unto him; and he fell on his

neck, and wept on his neck a good while.”

In the way from Cairo to Heliopolis, and near to the ruins of

the latter, is a village called Matareeah, which has a similar

signification to the word Heliopolis—namely, “town or place belonging

to the sun.” “Just before reaching the village of Matareeah, at a

little distance from the road, on the right, is the garden in which is

shown the sycamore tree,[20] beneath whose shade the Holy Family are

said to have reposed alter the flight into Egypt. It is a splendid old

tree, still showing signs of life, but terribly mauled alike by the

devout and the profane, who, respectively, have forgotten their piety

and their scepticism in the egotistical eagerness to carry away and to

leave a record of their visit. The present proprietor, a Copt, fearing

lest their united efforts should result in the total disappearance and

destruction of the tree, has put a fence round it, which, while it

prevents the ruthless tearing off of twigs and branches, affords those

who are anxious to commemorate their visit, a smooth and even surface,

on which, with the help of a knife obligingly kept in readiness by the

gardener, they may make their mark.”[21]

[20] This is called “The Virgin’s Tree.” The sycamore, or gimmis,

bears a coarse kind of fig, and is therefore sometimes spoken of as a

fig-tree. The trunk of the tree grows to the dimensions of twenty or

thirty feet in diameter, and its wood is remarkable for its durability;

hence it was used for the construction of mummy-cases, and also for

that of gun-carriages and water-wheels.—MCCOAN.

[21] Murray’s Hand-book, 1875; p. 158.

We are now on the confines of the desert, where the air is reputed

for its salubrity; and fifteen miles further on, at a distance of

three miles from the river, Professor Flower takes notice of a warm

sulphur spring, called Helwân, or Helouan des Bains, which has already

been appropriated by invalids, and is likely to become a rival of

Aix-la-Chapelle, the baths of Switzerland, and those of the Pyrenees.

Professor Flower informs us that a commodious bath establishment has

been built on the spot, and has attracted the attention of numerous

visitors. The temperature of the springs is 86° of Fahrenheit. A

quarter of a century ago, Mr. Bayle St. John writes of Helwân as

follows:—“We had resolved to visit the village of Helwân, parts of

which we could just distinguish from our mooring-ground, peeping

between groves of palms, sycamores, and acacias * * * with the bold

line of rocks beyond. * * * The village, which has many neat houses,

is approached on all sides between the lofty mud walls of gardens,

full of trees, that, drooping over, form not unpicturesque avenues. An

expanse of greensward, surrounded with sycamores, extends on one hand:

altogether, the place is more agreeable to the eye than the generality

of the Egyptian villages, principally on account of the great variety

of foliage that nestles around it; for there are palms, and sycamores,

and fig-trees and orange-trees, and locust-trees, and bananas and

pomegranates. An immense number of doves cooed amorously in the

branches.”

The chronology of ancient Egypt is a subject not without its

difficulties, open to a variety of opinion, and involved in perplexing

uncertainty. Nevertheless, the mind naturally yearns for information

as to the time of an occurrence, and the opportunity of comparing it

with coincident events. Ptolemy Philadelphus made a first step towards

a better state of knowledge, when in the year 250 B.C. he commissioned

Manetho, an Egyptian priest, experienced in the learning of Heliopolis,

to draw up a list of the kings of Egypt from the earliest times.

Manetho performed his task ably; but, alas! the book was injured, and

in troublous times a part of it was lost: nevertheless, that which

remains is still a valuable record; and had the book been preserved

entire, it would have settled many problems at present difficult of

solution. Manetho groups the kings of Egypt into thirty-four reigning

families or dynasties, each containing a number of kings, and by

calculating backwards, from the known to the unknown, he arrives

at the year 5504 B.C. as the date of Menes, the first king of the

first dynasty; that is to say, nearly seven thousand years from the

present time. It is only fair to say, however, that several English

authorities, including Sir Gardner Wilkinson, have declared against

his dates, and have assumed the year 2700 B.C. to be more correct;

Josephus says 2320; Bunsen, 3623; and Brugsch, 4455: in fact, a

difference exists, on this point, between the German Egyptologists

alone, of upwards of two thousand years. Under such circumstances

it is encouraging to meet with an authority like Mariette Bey,

Conservator of the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities at Boulak, one who

has the best opportunities of investigation, and has devoted himself

thoroughly to his work, express his confidence in the fidelity of

Manetho’s list, and, at least provisionally, adopt his dynasties and

his dates. Modern discoveries, according to Mariette, have tended to

corroborate Manetho’s calculations; such, for example, as the tablets

of Abydos, of which one is preserved in the British Museum, and more

especially the tablet recently found by himself at Sakkarah, in the

tomb of an Egyptian priest. Next we have the hieroglyphic evidence of

the monuments, beginning with those of Usertesen; and later on, such

further elucidation by the engraving on the monuments as serves to

bring opposing opinion to an exact agreement. Thus, the date of the

reign of Psammeticus I., of the twenty-sixth dynasty, as stated by

Wilkinson, is 664 B.C.; while that of Bunsen and Mariette is 665 B.C.;

even to a year.

All praise to the good old Egyptian priest, who wrote in Greek the

chronology of his country’s rulers; thanks to the industry and labour

of Egyptologists, which have resulted in the corroboration of his

researches; and thanks also to the Pharaohs who, in the midst of a

splendid career of magnificence and victories, have found time for the

meditations of the cloister, and have left behind them a consecrated

attestation of the succession of their ancestors. In a small and

secluded chapel adjoining the sanctuary of the great temple of Karnak,

called the Hall of Ancestors, a record was found of Thothmes III.

making oblations to sixty-one of his predecessors. This record is

preserved in the national library of Paris; and whilst it verifies

Manetho’s list, is especially correct as to the succession of the

eighteenth dynasty, 1703 to 1464 B.C. The papyrus of Turin, so called

from being preserved in that city, contains a list of the kings from

the earliest period of Egyptian government, although the papyrus itself

is broken into fragments. In the tablet of Abydos, preserved in the

British Museum, Rameses II. does homage to fifty ancestors; but the

names of twenty are lost. This tablet is a valuable record of the

twelfth dynasty, 3064 to 2851 B.C., sustained by the family of Amenemha

and Usertesen, and especially of the nineteenth dynasty, 1402 to 1288

B.C., the Ramessean period. A second tablet, similar to the above, and

found in a companion temple, the one dedicated to Rameses II., the

other to his father Seti, agrees in every respect with the British

tablet. And last, though far from being the least, is the tablet of

Sakkarah, found by Mariette in the tomb of an Egyptian priest, by name

Tounar-i, of the time of Rameses II. The belief already existed in

those days, that a well-behaved commoner, when he entered the land of

spirits, might be permitted, as a reward of good conduct, to associate

with kings; and so Tounar-i would seem to have prepared beforehand

a list of his probable visiting acquaintance in the future world.

Here he has assembled the cartouches of fifty-eight kings, closely

corresponding with Manetho’s list, and naturally with a respectful

regard to precedency; so that his prospective visiting list admits of

being turned to useful account by his successors. Saqqarah, or as it

is commonly written, Sakkarah, is supposed to be the ancient Thinis,

the capital of the Pharaohs of the first and second dynasties: the

tablet is preserved in the museum at Boulak. On it we should doubtless

find delineated the oval of Menes, with those of Cheops, Chephren, and

Mycerinus, of the giant Apappus, and the rosy-cheeked but vengeful

Nitocris.[22]

[22] Apappus was a Pharaoh of gigantic build, and a successful general;

he carried his wars into Ethiopia and Asia. He is said to have been

nine feet high, and he lived to the age of 100 years.—The story of

Queen Nitocris, the “belle with the rosy cheeks,” as Manetho calls her,

is, that her brother having been assassinated, she assembled together

at a banquet all whom she thought to be accomplices in the crime; and

when the hilarity of the evening was at its zenith, she let in upon

them the waters of the Nile, so that they were all drowned.

The pyramid and the obelisk have something analogous in their form—the

four sides and the pointed summit—indeed, the apex of an obelisk, in

nearly every case, is a diminutive pyramid, or pyramidion. Both had

mystical attributes assigned to them in relation to the worship of

the Sun, the “organiser of the world.” The pyramid, with its four

sides looking north, south, east, and west, was selected as the tomb

of the mummified body which was destined to rise from the dead, and

be restored to life at the appointed time. When the pyramid was too

costly, a pair of small obelisks stood sentry at the entrance of the

tomb, and were in common use during the early dynasties. A considerable

number of these relics have been found, and preserved in the Egyptian

museum at Boulak. The obelisk of Syenite granite, however, belongs to

a later period; it may have come into use before the twelfth dynasty,

before the reign of Usertesen; but the Heliopolis obelisk is generally

admitted to be the pioneer of the colossal obelisks of the eighteenth

and nineteenth dynasties, of the reigns of the Thothmeses and of the

Ramseses. These latter were not funereal, but, on the contrary, were

triumphal, and took the place of triumphal arches of modern times. On

the facets of the pyramidion, and at the top of the shaft immediately

below it, were usually engraved figures denoting supplication and

gifts, by the Pharaoh who dedicates the monument, to the gods whom

he intends to propitiate; it might be wine, or it might be milk; and

occasionally, as at Heliopolis and at Karnak, the pyramidion was capped

with metal, sometimes gold, from the countries which had been conquered

in battle; sometimes burnished copper or bronze, which might represent

the spoils of war, or by the reflection of its rays, an artificial sun;

while certain of the obelisks are said to have been more extensively

ornamented with metal.

We have ample evidence of the great care which has been bestowed on the

preparation and finish of these Syenite obelisks: for example, the deep

carving of the central column of hieroglyphs, and the shallow cutting

of the side columns; the polish of the hollows of the hieroglyph to

their extremest depth; and more strikingly still, in the gentle swell

of the face of the shaft, intending to correct an error of reflection

of light. This latter feature is especially noticeable in connection

with the Luxor obelisks; and it has been observed, that but for this

slight convexity, the surfaces of the column would have had the

appearance of being concave.

The carvings of the obelisks usually began at the pyramidion occupying

its lower half, and the inscriptions were engraven in narrow columns,

each occupying one-third of the breadth of the shaft, the central

column being the chief. Where the pyramidion was capped with metal,

the engraving was absent on that part, as in the case of Usertesen’s

obelisk. In this obelisk we have also an example of a single column

of inscriptions. In other instances, as in several of the Thothmes

obelisks, and notably the British obelisk, the side spaces which were

originally left blank, have been filled up by a successor of the

founder, as in the case of Rameses II. The columns are to be read

perpendicularly from top to bottom, and the base is sometimes decorated

with symbols of thanksgiving. The inscriptions themselves were, for

the most part, all of a similar character:—The Pharaoh approaches the

deity with gifts, and on bended knee supplicates his blessing; this

the deity vouchsafes; then, with floating banner, the standard of the

king, the potentate recites his origin, his titles, and his deeds of

usefulness and glory, rarely failing to include among them the raising

of the obelisk; lastly, he finishes by a declaration of his power

as a descendant of the sun, of giving life like his progenitor for

everlasting.

Mr. W. R. Cooper, the Honorary Secretary of the Society of Biblical

Archæology, has favoured us with the following translation of the

hieroglyphs engraven on the British obelisk, extracted from Burton’s

“Excerpta Hieroglyphica.” The illustration is, necessarily, limited

to the three sides then exposed to view, and begins with the central

column of each, containing the legend of Thothmes III.

_First Side._—“The kingly Horus, strong bull, crowned in Thebes,

the king of Upper and Lower Egypt, Ra-men-kheper; he made (this) in

his monuments to his father, Horemakhou; he erected two very great

obelisks, capped with gold, (when he celebrated) the panegyry of his

father, who loves him. He did (it), the son of the sun, Thothmes, the

best of existences, beloved of Horemakhou.”

_Second Side._—“The kingly Horus, strong bull, ruling in truth, the

king of Upper and Lower Egypt, Ra-men-kheper. For him the lord of gods

has multiplied the panegyrics (intervals of thirty years) in Habennou

(the Temple of the Sun, in Heliopolis), knowing that he is his son, the

elder, the divine flesh, issuing (from himself). The son of the sun,

Thothmes, lord of Heliopolis, beloved of Horemakhou.”

_Third Side._—“The kingly Horus, strong bull, beloved of Ra (the sun),

the king of Upper and Lower Egypt, Ra-men-kheper. His father Tum has

established him, making for him a grandeur of name in expanded royalty

... in Heliopolis, (and) giving him the throne of Seb (and) the office

of khepra; the son of the sun, Thothmes, the best of existences,

beloved of the Bennou (sacred bird) of Heliopolis.”