the court, low on the inner side, but with a deep fall externally, is
most beautiful and enchanting. The eye from this point, and still more
perfectly from the summit of the tower, or from the top of the hill
rising directly behind our dwelling, commands all, that still remains of
Ancient Thebes. In front of us the splendid ruins of the Memnonia, from
the angle of the hills at Qurna on our left, to the lofty Pylones, which
tower up above the mounds of ruins of Medînet Hâbu on our right; then the
green meadow encircled by the broad Nile, from which the solitary Colossi
of Amenophis rise on the right hand, and beyond the river the groups
of temples at Karnak and Luqsor, behind which the lower plain extends
several hours farther to the clear outline of the slightly undulating
Arabic ranges, which every morning were lit up by the first rays of the
sun casting a wonderful richness of colouring over the valley and rocky
desert all around us. There is no other spectacle in the world that I can
compare with this, a scene which daily impresses us with fresh wonders
and delight; but it reminds me perhaps of the view, for two years before
my window, looking down from the Tarpeian Rock, which comprised the whole
of Ancient Rome from the Aventine, with the Tiber at its foot, to the
Quirinal, and beyond that the undulating Campagna, with the beautiful
profile of the Alban hills (strikingly like those we now behold) in the
background.
We never, however, look out into the distant country without being
peculiarly attracted to the silvery water-highway, and without our eyes
following the pointed sails, which may bring us letters or travellers
from the North. Winter here, as in all other places, is the season of
sociability. Not a week passes that we do not see several guests among
us. A stranger’s book, which I have placed here for future travellers,
and furnished with an introduction, was inaugurated on New Year’s Day
by our own signatures. Since then above thirty names have been added,
although the book has hitherto been kept exclusively in our castle, and
will only be handed over to our faithful castellan ʾAuad on our departure.
On Christmas Eve we for the third time selected a palm for our
Christmas-tree. This symbol, still more beautiful than our fir-tree,
was decorated with lights and small gifts. Our artists celebrated the
cheerful festival in other imaginative ways, and an illuminated Christmas
crib, executed in the typical manner, and placed at the end of the long
rock-passage, was most successful.
As it is natural to expect, England is by far the most numerously
represented among travellers; the French are more rarely seen, but among
their numbers I must mention the well-known and amiable savant Ampère,
who, as he told me, intends to spend several months in this country, in
order to make some solid progress in his Egyptian studies.[60] We are
not, however, without some of our German countrymen, and one beautiful
Sunday morning, at the close of the year, we had the pleasure of seeing
Lic. Strauss, the son of the court chaplain in Berlin, and his cousin
Dr. Krafft. We were just about to begin our simple Sunday service, which
ever since Abeken, our dear friend and former preacher of the desert, has
quitted us, I have been in the habit of conducting myself. I therefore
immediately resigned my place to one of these two rev. gentlemen, which
more befitted them than me; and as it happened that we had with us the
very sermons written by the two fathers of our dear guests, one of these
was selected for a discourse.
Messrs. SEUFFERHELD and Dr. BAGGE, from Frankfort, visited us almost
simultaneously with them, and soon afterwards our friend Dr. SCHLEDEHAUS
from Alexandria, with the Austrian painter SATTLER, and when Messrs.
Strauss and Krafft called on us a second time, on their journey back,
they met some other guests here, Messrs. TAMM, STAMM, SCHWAB, and the
Assessor von ROHR, from Berlin. This very day twelve Germans (nine of
them Prussians) sat down to dinner with us.
LETTER XXXI.
_On the Red Sea, between Gebel Zeït and Tôr. Good Friday.
The commencement of Spring. 21st March, 1845._
Our vessel lies motionless in the midst of the sea, in sight of the
distant coast of Tôr, which we hoped to have reached in the course
of last night. I sit down to write in order to divest myself of the
annoying state of impatience necessarily resulting from an exceedingly
inconvenient and protracted calm, under a sultry mid-day sun, in a
sailing vessel, adapted only for bales of goods.
On the 20th of February we changed our abode in Thebes from the western
to the eastern bank, from Qurna to Karnak. We settled ourselves here
in some chambers of the great royal temple; but as I was desirous of
setting out on my journey to the Peninsula of Sinai as soon as possible,
I limited myself for the time, to merely taking such a survey of the
monuments as was absolutely necessary, in order to enable me to appoint
the work that was to be done during my absence.
The 3rd of March I set out on my journey. The younger Weidenbach
accompanied me, in order to give me some assistance in the drawings,
which would be absolutely required: besides him, I took our Dragoman
Jussuf along with me, the Kawass Ibrahim Aga, Gabre Máriam, and two
additional servants. We first went down the Nile as far as Qeneh. After
it became dark and the stars had risen, the conversation, which had
hitherto been animated, ceased, and, lying on the deck, I watched the
star of Isis, the sparkling Sothis (Sirius), this Polar star of Egyptian
chronology, as it gradually ascended over our heads. Our two oarsmen were
only too musically inclined, and went through their whole stock of songs,
quivering them with innumerable repetitions, sometimes interrupted by the
short cry of _Scherk_, _Gharb_ (East, West), which was softly answered by
the feeble and obedient boy’s voice of our little steersman. Half waking,
half dreaming, we then glided down the river till about midnight, when
the Arab quivering also ceased; the strokes of the oar became fainter,
and at length the boat was left entirely to the waves. The rising of the
moon in her last quarter, and dawning day, first aroused them to renewed
activity.
We arrived early in Qeneh, where we were very kindly received in the
house of the illustrious Seïd Hussên. He is the important man through
whose hands all our letters pass, both going and coming, and who is
thus highly deserving of our gratitude. He and his two sons were of
great assistance to us in obtaining the innumerable things which were
requisite for our departure for the desert, which we were desirous of
accelerating as much as possible. Meanwhile, I was delighted with the
patriarchal manners which prevailed in this most estimable Arabian
family. All business was carried on there, as it is throughout the East,
in public, and most commonly in the street. In front of each house there
is a long divan, another in the room; friends come in, make a short
salutation, sit down almost unnoticed, and business goes on as usual.
Guests of higher rank are offered coffee, or the long pipe. Slaves stand
round, ready at the slightest sign. Acquaintance of inferior rank kiss
the hand of the master of the house, even if they are only passers by;
they do it all seriously and quietly, without the least demonstration of
feeling, but with the usual greetings, frequently murmured for a long
time from one to another. If there is no more space left on the divan,
or if it is occupied by persons of higher rank, the new comer squats
down on the ground beside it. Every one rises and goes at his pleasure,
and, what strikes us as very singular, without any parting words, though
the forms of greeting are so long. The master of the house, also, quits
his guests without any salutation, if the visitor is not a person of
distinction; when such is the case, he is frequently detained for a
long while by the monotonous, and almost always empty, conversation.
This domestic life in the street, such as prevailed more or less among
the ancient Greeks and Romans, and which is so fundamentally different
from the life in our studies and offices, is closely united with the
Eastern character in general. Individuals always deport themselves with
propriety and reserve, but they are compliant, and ready for anything
that occurs. In respectable families, such as this, there also exists an
amiable religious feeling, originating in a true and kindly disposition.
Old Hussên is above seventy, with a white beard, but, in spite of his
age, taking a lively interest in all that occurs, and meeting every one
in a friendly manner. The two sons, who are nearly fifty, carry on the
business. They treat the old man with extreme reverence. Both are great
smokers, but they never smoke in the presence of their father; this
would be regarded as a want of the respect which is due to him; they
immediately lay aside their pipes when he enters. In the evening after
supper, when it would have been too great a privation to resign them, the
sons sit in front of the threshold to smoke; while we, as the guests, sit
with the old man in the room, they only take part in the conversation
through the open door.
The evening before our departure we visited a manufactory of the
celebrated Qulleh (cooling vessels), 200,000 of which are annually made;
and also the field from which the clay of which they are made is taken.
It is only one Feddan (160 square roods) in extent.
After spending a couple of days at Qeneh, we quitted it, on the 6th
March, with fifteen camels. The first day we only rode three hours, as
far as the copious spring of BIR AMBAR, charmingly situated between Palms
and Nebek-trees,[61] and provided by Ibrahim Pascha with a dome-shaped
building for the caravans. We also reached early on the following day the
second night-encampment, at the station of Leqêta. The ancient road to
Kossêr from Koptos, the present Quft, the mounds of which we saw in the
distance on our right hand, leads immediately to the projecting mountains
of El Qorn (the Horns). We did not descend into the broad Kossêr road
until we approached these mountains, and after a march of six hours
arrived at LEQÊTA at the junction of the roads from Qeneh, Quft (Koptos),
Qûs (the ancient ⲕⲱⲥ or _Apollinopolis parva_), and a fourth road, also,
leading direct from Luqsor hither. Five wells furnish here a supply of
tolerably good water; two buildings, with domes half fallen down, are
destined for the reception of travellers.
I here noticed a trait of Arabian hospitality which I must also mention.
At our last repast at Qeneh a fresh draught of the delicious Nile water
was brought me in an ornamental gilt cup, decorated with pious sayings
from the Koran. I was pleased with its simple and yet agreeable form,
the segment of a sphere, and expressed this to old Hussên, without
anticipating the answer I immediately received:—“The cup belongs to
you.” As I had nothing about me which I could give in return for the
gift, I went away shortly after, declining the civility, and left the
cup standing unnoticed. That night, when I went to rest, I found it
placed beside my bed, but the following morning I gave express orders
that it should not be packed up. We started on our journey, and in
Leqêta, where for the first time I opened my travelling-bag, my surprise
was great when the first thing I beheld was the cup carefully placed
within it. Gabre Máriam had closed my baggage, and in reply to my almost
angry inquiry how it was that the cup was here, contrary to my order, he
confessed that he had been obliged to place it at the top, by the express
wish of old Seïd Hussên. I was now, indeed, compelled to yield, and to
think of some present for him, on my return.
We again started from Leqêta the same evening, and rode three hours
farther to an old station, at the GEBEL MAÁUAD, very little used now, and
deficient in water. Our Arabs, from the tribe of the Ag´aïze, are not so
animated as the Ababde, or Bischariîn, and their camels are also inferior.
After Gebel Maáuad, we entered the hilly, sandy plain of QSUR EL BENAT,
and after another pass, the plain of RESCHRASCHI. At the end of this,
Gebel ABU GUEH rises on the left, upon which we turned our backs and went
to the right, round an angle of rock, on the precipitous sides of which,
composed of sandstone, I found engraved the Shields of the sun-worshipper
Amenophis IV., along with his consort, and over it the Sun, with rays
spread out like hands around it. Their names, as everywhere else, were
partly erased, although the King had not yet altered his name into that
of BECH-EN-ATEN. Towards mid-day we entered the primitive mountain range,
and in three-quarters of an hour arrived at the well of HAMAMÂT.
There appears to have been an ancient Coptic settlement here, and the
broad well, about 80 feet deep, lined with stones, into which there is a
descent by a winding staircase, is even now ascribed by the Arabs to the
Nazarenes (the Christians). The ancient stone-quarries, which were our
most immediate object, were situated another half hour from the well.
I pitched my head-quarters here, in a spacious grotto covered with
Egyptian and Greek inscriptions, as, by a hasty survey, we easily
perceived that we should find work which would occupy us for several
days. The ancient Egyptians, who were great lovers and eminent
connoisseurs of remarkable kinds of stone, had here found a bed of
precious green breccia, and beside it, also, some beautiful dark-coloured
veins of granite, which were worked as early as the 6th Dynasty, rather
more than B.C. 2000. There are numerous memorial inscriptions engraved
on the surrounding rocks since that period. Among them there are several
especially deserving notice, from the time of the Persian Government. The
hieroglyphic shields of Cambyses, Darius, Xerxes, Artaxerxes, are indeed
almost alone known in this spot; and a royal state architect from the
Dynasty of the Psammeteci, has displayed his whole pedigree, no less than
twenty-three families, who, _without one exception_, held this important
post, and some of them also, in connection with high priestly honours.
An ancestral mother stands at the head of the long series, who must have
lived nearly 700 years before the last link of the chain. A great number
of Greek Proskynemata allow us to infer that the stone-quarries were
still used in the time of the Greeks and Romans. For five whole days we
were occupied from morning to night with copying and taking impressions,
to the continual wonder of the small caravans which we saw almost daily
pass before us, as the principal road by which the pilgrims of Upper
Egypt, and a great part of the Sudan, pass to Kossêr and Mecca, leads
through this valley.
My original plan had been to go from Qeneh to Kossêr, and to embark
thence for Tôr. As the voyage, however, occupies a great deal of time, I
was very glad to learn in Qeneh that there is also a road from Hamamât,
across the mountain chain to Gebel Zeït, nearly opposite Tôr. I therefore
determined to take that road, difficult, indeed, but interesting, and far
shorter. At the same time I sent a messenger in advance to Kossêr to give
orders that a vessel should start for Gebel Zeït without delay, and await
us there.
In Hamamât I had also a severe contest with the Arabs, who suddenly
became apprehensive of the long road, but little known and almost devoid
of water, and who wanted rather to guide us by Kossêr along the coast.
But as my principal object was to visit certain ancient stone-quarries
in the lofty mountain range, I threatened, if they did not keep their
word, to write to the Pascha, and I made them responsible for all the
consequences. Thus after long capitulations I accomplished my plan.
Nevertheless, it was still very nearly upset, as, on the evening before
our departure, we were almost poisoned by the carelessness of our cook,
who had allowed some vinegar to stand in copper vessels. However, we
recovered happily after a night of great suffering, and on the 13th March
started from Hamamât.
We had brought with us six barrels full of water from Qeneh; the
camel-drivers were worse provided, and must consequently have suffered
much from thirst. Besides Selâm, our old trustworthy guide of the
caravan, I had brought with me in addition a special guide from Qeneh,
Selîm, who was said to be well acquainted with the mountainous district
between Hamamât and Gebel Zeït, although he had only made the journey
once before, above twelve years ago; and under his guidance, we got in
two days as far as GEBEL FATIREH. After great labour and long searching,
we re-discovered the remains of the ancient colony of workmen, who
quarried here a beautiful black and white granite. From this point,
however, the ignorance of the guide was manifested in many ways. On
the evening of the 15th of March we arrived at a high water-shed, and
were compelled to pass the night on the hard rocky ground, there being
no possibility of pitching a tent. The following day, Palm Sunday, we
suddenly came early in the morning upon a steep precipice, which descends
about 800 feet between the two chains of the MUNFÎEH mountain range. It
seemed impossible to pass the steep and dangerous path with a caravan.
The Arabs one and all protested in the most decided manner against
attempting it, and poured forth the most violent curses upon Selîm. He
was in a difficult position. He had evidently not known the difficulties
of this pass; the roads that are passable, though it is true they are
very circuitous, lead either by NECHEL DELFA, eastward, or by SCHAIB
EL BENAT, westward of this spot. To strike into one of these two roads
now, would have at least cost us two more days, and as we had already
lost a great deal of time at Gebel Fatireh, we should have run into
still greater danger of a deficiency of water, as our supply had been
calculated very exactly, and between Hamamât and Gebel Zeït we had only
the prospect of one single spring, which was said to be situated near
Gebel Dochân. I therefore gave orders, and carried my point in spite
of the most violent protestations to the contrary, that all the camels
should be unloaded on the height, and that the whole of the baggage
should be carried down on the shoulders of the Arabs. My own servants
had to begin, and we all set to work together. Chests and trunks were
taken singly from one point of rock to another; we had most difficulty
in managing the great water-casks, which could only be moved by three or
four people at once. The unloaded beasts were then carefully led down,
and thus the bold enterprise terminated successfully without any accident
or injury, amid loud and fervent appeals to Abd el Qader, the sacred
patron of the camel. After three toilsome hours, all was over, and the
beasts were again loaded.
Soon after, however, we were to encounter a far more serious danger. I
was as usual riding in advance with Max and some of the servants, and
had charged the caravan to follow the footmarks of my ass in the sand.
Towards mid-day we saw GEBEL DOCHÂN, “the Smoking Mountain,” on our
left hand, rising deep blue beyond the Munfîeh chain, and several hours
afterwards, when we emerged from the higher mountains into an undulating
and more open country, on the farther side of the wide plain, and beyond
the sea, we, for the first time, saw the distant mountains of Tôr, like
rising mist, situated in the third quarter of the globe, which we were
now about to enter.
Soon after three o’clock we came to two Bedouin huts made of mats, in
which we found a woman, and a dark-skinned boy, with beautiful eyes, who
gave us some milk. On my inquiring whether there were ancient walls in
the neighbourhood, the boy conducted us to a piece of granite rock, one
hour distant, standing isolated, surrounded by a rough, but well piled
up, wall, about 10 feet high. The square, in which the above-mentioned
rock formed the acropolis, was 70 paces long, and 60 broad; the entrance
from the south was furnished with two circular bastions; and similar
ones stood at the four corners, and in the centre of the three remaining
sides. In the interior single chambers were partitioned off, and in the
centre there was a well of burnt bricks, but which was now covered with
rubbish.[62]
According to the statements of our guide, we ought now to have been
near the water that was said to be only one half day’s journey distant
from our last night’s encampment. But the sun went down without our
having reached the desired goal. By the dim light of the moon in her
first quarter, we at length turned into a lofty rock-valley, which Selîm
assured us would certainly lead to the spring. We ascended for a long
time between bare granite precipices; the moon set, no well appeared, and
the guide confessed that he had missed the right valley. We were obliged
to turn back. The same thing occurred in a second and a third valley into
which the guide conducted us, who was now evidently quite lost, having
altered his direction more than once. He excused himself on the plea
of uncertain moonlight, and assured us that at break of day he would
immediately discover the right path. Nothing, therefore, remained but
to lie down on the hard ground, in our light riding-dresses, to take a
short disturbed sleep, without eating or drinking; for our water-bottles
had long been emptied, and we had each of us, some time before, devoured
our small provision of four biscuits. Some camel-saddles were our only
protection from the cold north wind. Thus, with the stars above and the
stones beneath us, we placed our hopes in the following morning.
With the dawn of day we again mounted. My ass, who had taken the last
scanty ration of water that had been measured out for it, more than
four-and-twenty hours back, and could not endure thirst like the camels,
would scarcely go a step farther. Selîm, however, was in good heart, and
thought we should soon get back to the right road. We found innumerable
marks of camels. “Only a little while longer,” exclaimed the guide, “and
we shall be all right.” Our hope was again revived.
Beautiful variegated blocks of granite and porphyry, which I saw lying
among the loose stones, were joyful signs to me of the vicinity of the
_Mons porphyrites_. Meanwhile, the broad valley into which we had turned
constantly became narrower, and divided into two branches, the right of
which we ascended. But this also divided once more, and like the valleys
described above, everything round us led to the sad conviction that
here we were again upon the wrong path; I made a halt to give some rest
to our tired animals, and sent the guide forward alone to find out his
right road. Hungry, and above all, thirsting for a draught of water,
we encamped in the shadow of a rock-precipice. We were in a critical
position. I had begun to doubt whether our guide would ever find the
spring in this desert and uniformly barren mountainous region. And where
was our caravan? Had it found its way to the water? If, as hitherto
had been the case, it had followed the footmarks of my ass, which were
distinguished singly among the innumerable tracks of camels, then it was
lost like ourselves. We waited impatiently for Selîm; he could at least
lead us back to the Arab huts, which we had seen the previous day. But
one hour after the other passed away: Selîm did not come. The sun rose
higher, and deprived us of the narrow shadow of the mountain precipice,
beside which we had halted. We sat silent upon the burning stones. We
did not venture to leave the spot for fear of missing Selîm. Had he met
with an accident, or could he have forgotten himself so far as only to
think of his own preservation, and to leave us to our fate, which is said
to have happened some years ago to three Turks, in this same desert, who
were never seen again? Or was Selîm too weary to return back to us? He
had been on foot almost all the way, and must consequently be much more
exhausted than we were.
From time to time we mounted the nearest heights, and fired off our
guns. All in vain! We were at length compelled to yield to the cheerless
conviction that we should not see our guide again. After waiting four
hours, mid-day had arrived, and with it the latest time to start, if we
could still cling to the faint hope of again finding out the Arab huts,
which must be about six hours distant from us. To search any longer for
the spring of water would have been madness, as even Selîm had not found
it; Gebel Zeït, where our vessel lay, was two and a half days’ journey
distant, and the Nile, on the other side of the mountain range, five
days’ journey off: the camels had drank nothing for four days, and the
ass was already completely exhausted.