JOURNEYS TO THE EAST--CONSTANTINOPLE--SMYRNA--ATHENS--DIARY "UP THE
NILE TO PHYLAE"
1866-1869
Leighton visited Spain in 1866. There exists apparently no letters or
written record of this journey, but he made many sketches remarkable
for strong and characteristic colouring.
The letter written to Mrs. Mark Pattison in 1879, already quoted,
contains an amusing endeavour on Leighton's part to date the various
journeys he had made in answer to questions she had asked.
"I am sorely perplexed to answer this; I can only approach an
answer by a sort of _memoria technica_. I made studies in
Algiers for 'Samson Agonistes'; that will give you roughly the
period. This visit made a deep impression on me; I have loved
'the East,' as it is called, ever since. By-the-bye, I drew here
my (almost) only large water-colour drawing, 'A Negro Festival'
[the picture Leighton alluded to as 'The Niggers'], which was
thought very well of by my friends. To Spain (into which I had
made a raid of a few days on a previous occasion when visiting
the South of France for architecture, to which I am much
devoted) I went the year of the cholera. I remember this because
I was going to Constantinople, but was dissuaded by a friend
there because of the ravages of that epidemic. The following
year I _did_ go: Vienna, Danube, Varna, Constantinople, Broussa,
Smyrna, Rhodes, Athens (the greatest architectural emotion of my
life, by far), &c. This was the year _before_ those poor young
Englishmen were murdered on Pentelicus, up which I had been
with _the same_ guide. My visit to Egypt, and up the Nile on a
steamer, given me by the Khedive, was a year before the opening
of the Suez Canal; I rode over the Salt Lakes with Mons. de
Lesseps and a party of his friends. Damascus a year before I
exhibited the 'Jew's House,' I _think_. Spain, revisited, and
Morocco, the year before last. This is a roundabout way of
getting about dates, but, contrary to my expectation, I think I
have contrived to fix all the chief journeys approximately."
In 1867 Leighton wrote to his father:--
LLOYD STEAMER "ADRIATIC,"
_November 28, 1867_.
MY DEAR PAPA,--As I am likely to be busy during my very short
stay in Venice, where I hope to find a letter from you, I take
advantage of the leisure which I find in excess on board this
steamer to begin an epistle which, however, I shall not close
till I have seen yours, in case anything in the latter should
require an answer. Of course my getting to the end of even this
first page depends upon the state of my feelings--physical, not
moral, for I am a poor sailor at best. I told you, I believe, in
my last how much I had enjoyed and, as I hope, profited by my
stay in Rhodes and Lindos. I am uncertain whether I added that I
had received great kindness and attention from our consul and
his brothers, and also from one or two other gentlemen with whom
I became acquainted. Through the assistance of Mr. Biliotti (our
consul) I had an opportunity, which could never present itself
again, of buying a number of beautiful specimens of old Persian
_faience_ (Lindos ware), chiefly plates, which will make a
delightful addition to my collection of Eastern china and
pottery. I know that you, personally, care little for such
things, and have small sympathy with purchases of that nature;
you will, therefore, be glad to hear that though I spent a
considerable sum, knowing that such a chance would never again
be given me, I could, _any day_, part with the whole lot for at
least double--probably treble--what I gave.
The weather, which was very beautiful at the beginning--indeed
during the greater part of my stay in the Island--was not
faithful to me to the end; it broke up a few days before my
departure, and, to my very great regret, prevented my painting
certain studies which I was very anxious to take home: on the
other hand, I had opportunities of studying effects of a
different nature, so that I can hardly call myself much the
loser as far as my work in Rhodes was concerned. In Athens,
however, the effect of the absolute instability of the weather
(an instability of which I have never seen the like anywhere)
was that I left that place almost empty-handed, although I
stayed there a week longer than I had originally intended. If,
however, I got through little or no work, I had infinite
enjoyment in the frequent and unvaried study and contemplation
of the ruins on the Acropolis. Familiar as I was, from casts and
photographs, with the sculptures and some part of the
architecture which I found there, my expectations were very
highly wrought, but it is impossible to anticipate, nor shall I
attempt to describe, the impression which these magnificent
works produce when seen together and under their own sky.
Indeed, it is quite strange how one seems to read with new eyes
things which one conceived oneself to have understood thoroughly
before. The scenery about Athens, depending a good deal on
effects of light, only rarely displayed its full beauty during
my stay; sufficiently often, however, for me to see that it is
of exquisite beauty, and that that part of it described by Byron
in certain favourite lines of yours does not receive full
justice at his hands. I had letters, as you probably knew, to
Mr. Erskine, our Minister, and to Mr. Finlay, the historian;
both of them received me with the greatest cordiality and
kindness, as did also two or three other persons with whom I
became acquainted, so that my stay was socially agreeable as
well as artistically delightful; but herewith ends my journey,
for heavy weather, rain, sleet, fog and the rest prevented my
seeing any of the scenery of the Gulf of Lepanto, which I might
as well not have visited, and although I passed Zante,
Cephalonia, and Corfu under rather more favourable skies, I did
not see them to advantage--_ce sera pour une autrefois_. Your
letter, which I have found on my arrival, and for which thanks,
does not call for any particular reply beyond that I have
painted _no_ figures, though I might have been tempted by
several fine heads I saw, but time only sufficed for my
landscape studies, which in this journey were my chief care. The
extract from the _Saturday Review_, which is highly flattering,
was shown me by Mr. Finlay in Athens.
Of Venice I have nothing to say, except that my first impression
of the Gallery, coming as I did straight from the Parthenon, was
that everything but the very _finest_ pictures was wanting in
dignity and beauty, and was _artificial_. I was much surprised
myself, as the Venetian school always exercises a great
fascination over me. You may infer from that what an impression
of beauty Athenian Art has left on me. I was incessantly
reminded, in looking both at the sculpture and architecture of
the Acropolis, of the admirable words which Thucydides puts into
the mouth of Pericles: those are the beginning and the end of
the Greek artistic nature.
I shall be in London by the 10th, and right glad to get home
again--meanwhile, with best love to Taily.--I remain, your
affectionate son,
FRED.
VENICE, HOTEL DE L'EUROPE.
[Illustration: SKETCH WITH DONKEY. EGYPT. 1868]
Respecting the knowledge Leighton possessed of the Greek language, he
wrote in a letter to a friend, "In Greek I never got beyond Homer and
Anacreon. I have just retained this, that, having read a passage in a
translation (I generally read Homer in _German_ or _Latin_), I am able
to feel, on referring to the original, its superiority to the foreign
rendering."
In 1868 the great desire which Leighton for many years had felt to see
Egypt was gratified. In October of that year he wrote to his father
from Cairo:--
_Beginning of letter missing._]
I find that the Prince (the Prince of Wales) asked him in the
said letter to introduce me as a personal friend of his to the
Viceroy, adding that he would be obliged by anything he (Col.
Stanton) could do for me. This was more than I had expected
from what Col. Tait also had written me. Well, to make a long
story short, I communicated to Col. S. the ambitious desires
that Smart had stirred up in me, assuring him, however, that I
should never have dreamt of entertaining them of my own accord.
He took my case in hand at once, by asking for an audience,
which the Viceroy granted as soon as he should have returned to
Cairo; he was too busy to see me at Alexandria. Meanwhile Col.
Stanton hinted to the secretary of H.H. what my wish was, but
nothing was said to the Viceroy himself. Wednesday being fixed
for my reception, I went to his palace of Abbassia with Col. S.,
and was there received in a pavilion in the open air, which
overlooked a tract of country covered with tents in which some
5000 men were quartered. Round His Highness' pavilion were the
tents of his chief ministers in attendance. It was rather a
picturesque sight. The Viceroy was alone, and, having received
us very courteously, and asked after the health of the P. and
Pcess. of Wales, made us sit down. He then clapped his hands,
and on a word from him long _tchibouques_ were brought, of which
the amber mouthpieces were enriched with enormous diamonds and
emeralds. A little conversation on general matters then followed
between him and Col. S., after which he questioned me about my
projects; and after asking whether he could assist me, and Col.
S. throwing out a little hint about a steam tug to get me on
quicker, he said, "Would you not rather have a steamer to go in?
it is the same to me, and you will be more comfortable." Here
Col. Stanton, very judiciously and promptly, said he was sure
the P. of Wales would be much gratified by this mark of favour
to me; so that I have only to name the day, and the vessel will
be at my orders, and I shall do all I wish in _half the time_,
or less, it would otherwise have taken me. I bowed myself out
with my best thanks, and went home much pleased at my good
fortune and at everybody's kindness. I should not forget to say
also that Mr. Ross (Lady Duff Gordon's son-in-law, you know) was
full of _empressement_ and kindness to me, and Lady D.G. lent me
a gun for the Nile. I start in ten days or thereabouts, and hope
before that to hear from you, for no letters will follow me and
I shall lose sight of everybody for nearly two months. I will
write again before I start; meanwhile, when you write which it
will be no use your doing till _November_, address, please New
Hotel, Cairo, Egypt.
And believe me, meanwhile, with best love to Taily, your affte.
son,
FRED.
Happily, while Leighton lost sight "of everybody for nearly two
months," he kept the following diary:--
_Wednesday, October 14, 1868._--Went on board, dined and slept.
_Thursday, 15th._--Started at about 7 A.M. There had been a
storm in the night, and the east was still heavy with clouds;
but the western sky was pure and soft.
At about ten caught up the Sterlings, becalmed in their
dahabyeh; their crew was making a futile attempt to tow them
against the current. I let out a rope and tugged them as far as
Benisoef, which, owing to the additional weight, I did not reach
till Friday morning (16th).
The first day's journey up the Nile is enchanting, and I enjoyed
it thoroughly. The sky was bright, but tempered by a glimmering
haze which produced the loveliest effects; those of the early
morning were the most striking. The course of the river being
nearly due north, the western bank was glowing in varied sunny
lights; the other seemed made up of shadowy veils of gauze
fainting gradually towards the horizon. The boats that passed on
the left, dark in the blaze of light, looked, with their
outspread wings, like large moths of dusky brown; those on the
right shone against the violet sky like gilded ivory. The
keynote of this landscape is a soft, variant, fawn-coloured
brown, than which nothing could take more gratefully the warm
glow of sunlight or the cool purple mystery of shadow; the
latter perhaps especially, deep and powerful near the eye (the
local brown slightly overruling the violet), but fading as it
receded into tints exquisitely vague, and so faint that they
seem rather to belong to the sky than to the earth. At this time
of year the broad coffee-coloured sweep of the river is bordered
on either side by a fillet of green of the most extraordinary
vivacity, but redeemed from any hint of crudity by the golden
light which inundates it. The brightest green is that of the
Indian corn--the softest and most luminous that of an exquisite
grass, tall as pampas (perhaps it _is_ a kind of pampas, I have
not seen it close yet), and like it crowned with a beautiful
plume-like blossom of the most delicate hue; seen against a dark
shady bank, and with the sun shining through it, it shimmers
with the sheen of gossamer.
Frequent villages animate the river's edge; they are built of
unbaked bricks coated with mud, and have a most striking effect.
The simplicity and variety of the shapes of the houses, with
their slightly sloping sides and flat roofs, give them a certain
dignity in their picturesqueness which delights me; the colour,
too, is particularly agreeable, and is the most beautiful foil
to the bronze-brown of the naked, or nearly naked, fellaheen and
the indigo of the robes of their wives; to the sparkling white
of the doves that swarm in the gardens, and to the cinder-colour
of the buffaloes that wink and snooze along the bank. Every
village nestles in a dense grove of date-palms, and one cannot
conceive a lovelier harmony than that which is made by the
combination of the browns below with the sea-green of the
sweeping branches and the flame-like orange of the fruit. The
acacia (here a large, massive tree, with a vigorous dark green
foliage) is frequent in the villages.
The shape of the hills and mountains is very peculiar and
striking. It gives the idea of a choppy sea of sand thrown up
into abrupt peaks and then uniformly truncated by a sweep of a
vast scythe, sweeping everything from horizon to horizon. Here
and there a little peak, too low to be embraced in the general
decapitation, raises its head amongst innumerable table-lands
and gives great value and relief to the general outline.
Meanwhile an occasional train and not infrequent lines of
telegraph poles don't add to the poetry of the scene.
Nor the flies to one's comfort! What a curse they are! they
_infest_ one's face. I wonder what the epiderm of Egyptian
children is made of; you see babies with a dozen flies settled,
no, stuck, embedded in and round each of their eyes, and as many
in and about their noses and mouths; and they make no attempt to
remove them--seem absolutely unconscious of them.
Scenery this afternoon less interesting--river wider--banks more
monotonous.
Opposite a place called Magaga, some fine mountains on the east
bank, scored with innumerable horizontal lines marking the
monotonous parallel strata of which they are composed; a
characteristic peculiarity in all the Egyptian hills I have seen
as yet. (The finest in outline are the Quarries opposite
Sakkara, on the right bank, and like those behind the Citadel at
Cairo.)
Spent the night at a village called Kolosana, not having made
Minyeh owing to delay at Benisoef, where we coaled, and took
leave of the Sterlings, with whom I breakfasted. The sunset
before reaching Kolosana was magnificent, like a sunset at sea;
almost as grand in its simplicity. Between the broad flaming sky
and the broad flaming river there was only a long narrow strip
of dark bronze-green bank, that seemed to burst into flame where
the almost white hot sun sank scowling behind it. The after-glow
was also very fine, though less grand than I should have
expected. The sky was of a deep violet, and the distant rolling
sand-tracks wore the most mysterious tints, faint, glimmering,
uncanny, vague fawn colours, pale dun browns, and ghostly pinks.
_Saturday, 17th._--Started at dawn, and arrived at Minyeh about
eight o'clock.
Stayed two hours and coaled.
Obeying the custom of the country, I have presented the crew
with a sheep--great satisfaction.
Took a stroll in the Bazaars, which are rather picturesque.
Minyeh is a largish place (chef lieu), and, like every second
village on the Nile, disfigured by the tall chimneys of sugar
factories.
There is a striking line of hills opposite Minyeh, quaintly
jagged in outline and curiously regular in the marking of its
strata.
Passed Beni Hassan, where I shall stop on my return.
It is curious to see the incessant toiling of the natives at
irrigation. The poor people literally _make_ their country every
year, and it is marvellous to see how a narrow fillet of water
will, as by enchantment, conjure up in a few weeks an oasis out
of an arid desert. The land of Egypt is born afresh out of the
Nile every returning year.
I observe, with pleasure, in this part of the country those
little white-domed tombs of Sheykhs which make such a pretty
feature in the landscape of Algeria.
At Minyeh there is one, close to the riverside, in which rests
the "Sheykh of the Crocodiles" whose holy dust prevents those
man-eating ornaments of the Upper Nile from going any further
towards Cairo--below this tomb they never venture.
Not having reached Manfalut by sunset, we have drawn up for the
night by the bank of the river, nowhere in particular. This
entire freedom in our movements (I should say _mine_, for the
steamer stops exactly where, when, and as often as I choose) is
very agreeable. Less pleasant is the storm of flies and insects
of every kind, that rush in literally by myriads as soon as
candles are lighted within reach of shore; my tablecloth is
darkened with thousands of little flies no larger, wings and
all, than a moderate flea; the nuisance is intolerable.
A wonderful sunset again this evening. The western bank like
yesterday was low and brown and green, but, unlike yesterday, it
was alive with the sweet clamour of many birds. On the eastern
side the long wall of rock which seems to enclose the whole
length of the valley of the Nile came flush, or almost flush, to
the water's edge; and with what an intense glory it glowed! The
great hills seemed clad in burnished armour of gold fringed and
girt below with green and dark purple; but the smooth face of
the water was like copper, burnished and inlaid with sapphire.
I sat in the long gloaming enjoying the soft, warm, supple air,
and watching the tints gradually change and die round the sweep
of the horizon, and across the immense mirror of the Nile as
broad as a lake. It was enchanting to watch the subtle
gradations by which the tawny orange trees that glowed like
embers in the west, passed through strange golden browns to
uncertain gloomy violet, and finally to the hot indigo of the
eastern sky where some lingering after-glow still flushed the
dusky hills; and still more enchanting to watch the same tones
on the unruffled expanse of the water, slightly tempered by its
colour and subdued to greater mystery. A solemn peace was over
everything. Occasionally a boat drifted slowly past with
outspread wings, in colour like an opal or lapis lazuli, and
then vanished. It was a thing to remember.
I hear an altercation between Ottilio (my Italian waiter) and a
stoker who has put down his grease can on one of the Pasha's
smartest plates. "O--(adjective)--Madonna! se si puo vedere una
carogua simile! e se me la rompi pas? costa piu di te--sa!"
My young dragoman having fastened a hook to a bit of string, and
the bit of string to the stern of the steamer, has been waiting
some hours for a fish. After the first hour he reasoned with
himself, and said: "Brabs (perhaps?) he know!"--then, dolefully,
"He come touch the 'ook, and then he go run away!"--_cela c'est
vu._ To-morrow to Asyoot. 10-1/2 P.M. Just been on deck again.
Dragoman still fishing! He says, "I tink he _won't_." I incline
to agree with him.
_Sunday, 18th._--Started about six. Reached Syoot, or rather El
Hamza for Syoot, which is a mile inland, at eleven. Between
Manfalut and Syoot the Nile takes an immense sweep west, and
assumes altogether a tortuous course; the plain opens out, the
eastern mountains recede, and for the first time an important
chain closes in on the west. Game is already beginning to be
abundant. I saw a sandbank full of pelicans and geese just below
this place. I wish I could get at the names of the small birds I
see here, which are mostly new to me; an Arab invariably answers
your questions on this subject by the word "asfoor," _i.e._ a
bird--thankee! The peasants here all wear a loose dark brown
robe like that of a Franciscan monk; and as they squat fishing
on the brown bank of the river with their skull-caps and black
beards, I fancy I see the monks of the Thebaid coming, as in old
days, to get their daily meat out of the Nile.
Irrigation seems to go on more actively even than lower down; I
saw to-day no less than twenty-four shadoofs all in a row, and
in full play. The men that worked them, mostly naked, were of
every colour between a new halfpenny and an old shoe, and the
effect of them all toiling away and surrounded by groups of
squatting onlookers was very striking.
Hosseyn, my servant, the angler, is having his head shaved on
deck; when he has done I shall visit the town.
Meanwhile I have had a visit from the government doctor, a
rather intelligent man who made his studies in Pisa.
Pipes and coffee as usual.
Here comes Hosseyn clean-shaven. He is a nice boy, eager and
willing--but wants varnish; he can never address me without
scratching his spine at its lowest extremity; Audrey herself
could not have done it in a manner more naively unconventional.
Though only twenty, he has had two wives; not liking the first,
who snubbed his relations, he gave her three months' wages and
dismissed her. To avoid further unpleasantness he then married
his cousin: "She good woman--very quiet--good tongue."
The village at which we have landed is very picturesque. The mud
and brick architecture is here carried out with some care and is
entirely delightful. The walls are mostly crowned with an
openwork finish made by a simple arrangement of the bricks which
is most effective. Sometimes, as, for instance, in the cemetery,
they are surmounted by crenulations like those we see in the old
Assyrian monuments; the heads of the doorways are decorated with
a charming sort of diapered ornament, capable of great variety
and produced entirely by the arrangement in patterns of the
bricks; the patterns being painted black and the ground filled
in with white. The woodwork in the windows is also very pretty,
and altogether the general aspect of the houses most novel and
striking.
Beyond the village I wandered into a delightful garden; a half
cultivated wilderness of palm and gum trees in which one came on
unexpected pergolas, and lovely garden trees all pouring out
their most intoxicating scents under the fiercest sun I ever
walked beneath. I saw oleanders, the flowers of which were as
thick as roses and smelt like a quintessence of nectarines;
there were also some beautiful olive trees with weeping
branches--a thing I had never seen before--and with berries as
large as plums. Overhead, amongst the yellow dates, sat doves
the colour of pale violets.
Syoot itself is beautifully situated amongst groves and gardens;
except in that it is brown and not white, it reminded me much of
an Algerine town; it is very unlike Cairo. The rock-cut tombs in
the mountain above the town are so mutilated and disfigured that
little can be made of them; but they have that stamp of
vastness which is so characteristic of all the ancient monuments
of this country.
The view from the height is very fine. The river has barely
begun to fall yet, so that everything is reflected in the great
sheets of water that cover the land. At evening I saw the sunset
through the tall palm trees, with the domes of Syoot dark
against its flaming light.
For a fine showy assertion that looks very original and
striking, but is not calculated for pedantic verification,
commend me to a Frenchman. The other day, at Boulay, Mariette
Bey, the creator and the curator of the Museum of that ilk, and
a man of high standing as an Egyptologist, told me that the Nile
was turned into its actual course by a great chain of hills at
Syoot which, serving as a rampart, alone prevented it from
following its obvious tendency to flow into the Red Sea. "Il
allait _evidemment_ se jeter dans la Mer Rouge;" in fact, but
for this hill, there would have been no Lower Egypt, that
country being literally the child of the Nile which alone
prevents the sands of the central deserts from ruling over the
whole breadth of the land. Here was a dramatic revelation of
coincidences! Here was a startling suggestion of contingencies!
It fairly took your breath away! without that hill no Nile north
of Syoot! half Egypt would not have been! No Memphis! Memphis
with its wisdom! No Alexandria with its schools! No Cairo with
its four thousand mosques! No Pharaohs! No Moses! (The poor
devil of a sculptor who drowned himself in his own fountain
because he found he had made _his_ Moses too short might have
died in his bed.) No Cleopatra! (turn in your grave, noble dust
of Antony!)--"forty centuries" would have had no Pyramids from
which to look down on the conquering arms of Buonaparte. Mr.
Albert Smith's popular entertainment would have been shorn of
half its glories! Let me breathe! To what fantastic proportions
did that hill grow as one thought of it!
Alas! then, for prosaic fact; and oh! for unimaginative maps! On
consulting the latter I observed that, by the time it reached
Syoot, the Nile had been flowing for nearly two hundred miles in
a _north-westerly_ direction, away from the Red Sea rather than
towards it; and on visiting the spot I saw, oh confusion! that
the hills which bore the responsibility (according to Mariette)
of making the history of the world what it is, were on the
_western_ bank of the river!--there, at least, or nowhere, for a
vast plain closes in on the east.
This evening more visitors on board--lemonade and cigars--_pour
changer_; Consuls, &c. &c.--tedious.
_Monday, 19th._--Left Syoot at six, and arrived at Sohag before
three. Suffered a good deal in the morning from spasms of some
sort, and was not in a frame of mind to appreciate the scenery.
Was, moreover, driven near the verge of exasperation by the
steersman (Reis Ali), who droned select passages from the Koran,
_sotto voce_, within two yards of my ears from 8 A.M. till 2 P.
ditto; the same four bars over and over, for ever and for ever
in one unceasing guttural strain. I trust the pious exercise did
more for his soul than for my temper. Hosseyn informs me that he
is about to buy a lamb, and "make him big sheep." It appears
that, during a serious illness three years ago, he vowed a
votive sheep to Sitteh Zehneb--the granddaughter of the
Prophet--on condition that he should recover. Since then he has
put her off (oh, humanity!) with candles and occasional prayer;
now, at last, he is going to fulfil his vow. Admire thrift
combined with piety, and observe the economy on the _lamb_.
Habit is a strange thing! Hosseyn, whose manners have been
corrupted by evil communication with Europeans, occasionally
attempts to use a _fork_ in the bosom of his
family--particularly when salad is put before him. On these
occasions his elder brother invariably asks him with grim
sarcasm whether he has no fingers. Hosseyn desists at
once--"Brabs he beat me!--he big!"
This evening I went out shooting amongst the palms and gum
trees. It was very delightful, though ferociously hot. The
village is charmingly situated; the ground prettily tumbled
about, and trees and houses group themselves in the most
picturesque manner. (I noticed some new mouldings over the
doorways that had a very artistic effect.) I can't shoot at all;
but the birds are so plentiful that something is sure to cross
your gun if you only fire. I got a hawk, some doves, a dozen
little birds nameless for me, and two little green birds of a
kind that I have not seen before; they are quite lovely; must
ascertain what they are called. The sun had set when I reached
the boat, and all the dark plumes of the palm trees stood clear
over the black outlines of the village; above, the new moon, a
keen, golden sickle.
Hosseyn has given up fishing. "Oh, oh! nasty fish! he to laugh
me!"
Was much amused this morning by the device and trade-mark on a
tin of jam. (Jam, if you please, of Messrs. Barnes & Co. of
Little Bush Lane _and_ Tooley Street.) The device was "Non sine
labore"--and the trade-mark?--a beehive?--no!--the Pyramid of
Cheops! _Excusez._
Some twenty miles above Syoot, or, say, fifteen, the eastern
chain of mountains makes a bend towards the river, and for some
distance ranges near it; the stream, in its usual tortuous
course, sometimes flowing for a few hundred yards towards them
and then for a few hundred yards in the opposite direction. I
wonder whether one of these bends served as a foundation, or
rather as a blind, for Mariette's astounding assertion that the
Nile "allait evidemment se jeter dans la Mer Rouge." Did he "to
laugh me," as the fish did by Hosseyn? Or did he merely mean to
say that, if the Valley of the Nile had not turned north-west
between Keneh and Manfaloot, it might have turned north-east? If
so, joke for joke, I prefer the great Pyramid on the jam-pot of
Mr. Barnes of Little Bush Lane and Tooley Street.
_Tuesday, 20th._--Started at about half-past five, and reached
Disneh in the evening. There was a dead calm in the morning, and
I congratulated myself, not for the first time, on my steamer;
in a dahabieh I might have taken a week, and more, over the
stretch of river I have just covered in a day; and the scenery
just here, though fine, is monotonous. I am sorry for the
Sterlings, who will, I fear, be unusually long getting up. This
afternoon I saw Sheykh Selim, a sort of St. Simeon Stylites
without the column. This holy man's peculiar form of piety
consists in sitting stark naked on the bank of the river and
exacting presents in money and kind from all passers-by.
Hosseyn had spoken to me at great length of his wisdom and
piety, and assured me that when the crocodiles, which are
numerous about here, presented themselves before the eyes of
the Sheykh, he merely waved his hand and said "Biz, biz!"
whereat they fled, rebuked. He informed me also that no boat
refusing him tribute could expect to get on--it would infallibly
be becalmed until his holiness was propitiated. To my surprise I
found that my captain, a sensible old gentleman in other
respects, believed this just as firmly, though he expressed his
faith more vaguely. When I asked him whether the Sheykh's power
extended also to steamers, which did not wait on the wind, he
said: "Well, Allah was great, and though, certainly, a _steamer_
might, no doubt--so well appointed a steamer particularly--might,
no doubt, get past--yet who should say? Allah was great!" In
fact he believed with the best; so, of course, I said, by all
means let the Sheykh be propitiated. Accordingly when we hove in
sight of the little mound where he sits, and has sat for God
knows how many years, we turned the steamer (a vessel of
seventy-five horse-power) and ran straight in for the bank at
considerable risk, it struck me, of not getting off again. The
whole crew then went ashore in great excitement, headed by the
captain, and surrounded the Saint, kissing his hand and
salaaming. As I did not wish to hurt the old gentleman's
feelings by not kissing his hand, I stayed on board and looked
on. Sheykh Selim is a very vigorous-looking old fellow of the
colour of a very dusky mahogany table; his hair and beard are
woolly and of a dirty white; his countenance, as far as I could
judge from a little distance, good-humoured and sagacious. He
squats on the ground with his knees up and his arms folded
across them. He inspects his presents, and asks for more. After
the levee was over, and when our crew were about to come on
board, he called after them and asked for roast meat, and then
again a second time for oil wherewith to anoint himself.
"There," said Hosseyn triumphantly, "he know everything! he know
we have roast meat--how he know that?"
I was amused at the intellectual superiority of Ottilio, the
Italian waiter. "Quanto sono stupidi questi Arabi!" For my part
I don't see much more difficulty in swallowing Sheykh Selim than
a stigmatised nun or a winking picture--I told him so.
We should have reached Keneh to-day, but the coals were bad, and
we had to stop at Dishulh, three hours this side of that place.
Where was thy favouring grace, O Sheykh? It appears that, like
the gods of ancient Greece, the Sheykhs of Egypt have their
little misunderstandings; I am told that on one occasion Selim,
having a few words with another holy man thirty-five miles up
the river, by name Sheykh Fadl, and waxing wroth, threw a stone
at him (what are thirty or forty miles to a saint?) and blinded
him of one eye; whereon Sheykh Fadl returned the amenity by
throwing "some fire" at Sheykh Selim, thereby sorely burning
him. "I have seen the scar," my coxswain informs me.
Killed another fatted sheep for the crew.
_Wednesday, 21st._--Arrived at Lougsor (El Uker) about three. It
was too hot for sightseeing, so I waited till evening and went
out shooting in a boat; at least I went out with the idea of
shooting--if possible a pelican or a crane--but the birds were
too shy--I could not get within fair shooting distance; wounded
a pelican, but could not get after him in the deep mud. Got
belated on the river, and the crew had to pull hard for an hour
and a half to reach the steamer; fortunately there was a moon.
Anything more good-humoured or more ineffective than the way in
which the sailors pulled and shoved, I never saw; they hopped in
and out of the boat in the shallows, up to their hips in the
water--pushed, tugged, rowed and sang _die era im piacus_; they
can do nothing without the accompaniment of some rhythmic,
droning refrain, which they can keep up for an indefinite time.
Anything will do; my fellows pulled on this occasion to the
following words--
"Min Min_yeh_
fi Beniso_ef_,"
which is as who should say--
"From Hen_lee_
to Cookham _Reach_,"
giving the stroke and the emphasis on the last syllable.
In the evening was visited by Mustafa Aga, H.B.M. Consular
Agent, one of his sons, the Turkish Governor (Hassan Effendi),
and the local doctor. Mustafa is a very courteous old gentleman,
with half a nose, and much respected by all who know him; I
observed that Said, his son, would not smoke in his father's
presence, in accordance with an Arab custom, which did not much
remind me of the manner in which "the gov'nor" is treated in
England.
On Thursday morning, 22nd, I started to see the tombs of the
kings, leaving the eastern bank and Karnak for my return. It was
a lovely morning, and I crossed the Nile before the air had had
time to get thoroughly heated. On the other side I found horses,
kindly lent me by Mustafa (whose son accompanied me), and
donkeys for the rest of the party. There were a good many of us,
and we made a very absurd-looking procession--_en tete_, a
couple of fine brawny Arabs, one of whom has been the guide to
these ruins since Champollion; then Said and I on our
horses--mine a good-looking chestnut, caparisoned with scarlet
finery; behind us, on their respective donkeys, the captain in
full uniform holding a large umbrella over his head, Hosseyn in
his Arab dress, the French cook in his official white jacket and
cap, the Italian waiter with a large handkerchief over his head,
and the engineer; further behind, lesser menials and the hamper.
I forgot the Turkish Cawass in uniform and armed to the teeth.
Hovering round, brandishing water-bottles, was a swarm of Arab
boys and girls, in sizes, and of various qualities of chocolate;
they were dressed in the most fantastically tattered remnants of
dark brown shirts that I ever saw; there was one little monkey
of a dull ebony colour turned up with pale blue, whose form was
revealed rather than covered by a few incoherent brown shreds of
garment, and who was inexpressibly droll from the way in which
he cocked his little head demurely on one side with a
half-consciousness of insufficient drapery.
The ride to the tombs, which takes about an hour, and the latter
half of which lies through an arid valley, is very striking from
the form and colour of the mountains. Nothing announces that one
is approaching the city of the dead, and it is not till you
stand before them that you become aware of the plain square
openings which lead down to these magnificent last
resting-places of the kings. It was a right royal idea this, of
the old rulers of Egypt, to plunge these shafts into the bowels
of the rock, and give themselves a mountain for a tombstone over
the palace which was their grave. The design of these houses of
the dead is simple and apparently always much the same: a long
corridor, sometimes with lateral galleries, sometimes with
recesses or small chambers on each side, leads downwards by a
not very rapid incline to a great hall, in the centre of which
is the sarcophagus which contained the mummy of the king in its
magnificent case; these cases have of course been all removed.
All these lateral chambers were also originally filled with
mummies--those, I believe, of the relations of the sovereign.
The walls of these subterranean palaces and the ceilings are
adorned throughout with coloured hieroglyphs and flat sculptured
"graven images" representing mostly sacred and mystical scenes,
but often, also, illustrating the different trades and crafts
practised by the Egyptians. These paintings are of high interest
from an ethnographic point of view--Poynter would have a fit
over them. In the innermost places scores of bats dart about in
intense alarm. The effect of the scanty light from the candles
on these painted walls and on the dark bony forms of the Arabs
is extremely fine--what your literary tourist would call "worthy
of the pencil of Rembrandt."
After lunching in a shady spot we took an anything but shady
ride to the temple-palace of Koorneh, and from thence to the
Memnonium. Both are very interesting, but the latter by far the
finest; there is about it a breadth and a vastness, together
with much elegance and variety, that are very impressive.
Nothing that I have seen is comparable to the monuments of
Egypt, for the expression of gigantic thoughts and limitless
command of material and labour; withal there is about them
something stolid and oppressive that is unsatisfactory; and as I
looked at these vast ruins, vivid memories of Athens and its
Acropolis invaded me, and the Parthenon in all its serene
splendour rose before my mind; mighty, too, in its measured
sobriety, stately in the noble rhythm of its forms; infinitely
precious in the added glory of its sculptures; lovable as a
living thing; and then more, perhaps, than ever before, I felt
what a divine breath informed that marvellous Attic people, and
what an ineffaceable debt of gratitude is due to them from us,
blind fumblers in their footsteps.
I was less struck than I had expected to be by the two colossal
statues, of one of which it was poetically fabled by the
ancients that a mysterious clang rose from it as the first rays
of the rising sun smote its forehead. The myth is more striking
than the statues, though their size and isolation give them
something impressive. I had expected them, too, I don't know
why, to be in a desert, and they are in a field. How infinitely
grander is the great Sphinx, with its strange, far-gazing,
haunting eyes, fixed, for ever, on the East, as if expecting the
dawn of a day that never comes; immovable, unchanging, without
shadow of sorrow, or light of gladness, whilst the gladness of
men has turned to sorrow and their thoughts to ashes before
them, through three times a thousand years! Century by century
the desert has been gathering and growing round it--the feet are
buried, the body, the breast are hidden. How soon will the
sealing sands give rest at last to those steadfast, expectant
eyes?
In the evening Hosseyn had a great "fantasia" and fulfilled his
vow--and spent all his money. He killed his sheep and roasted
it, bought some rice and boiled it, some flour and had it made
into bread; then mixing the whole, he distributed it in six very
large trays; three were put before the crew, one he had placed
on the wayside for all comers (and they all came); the other two
were sent to the nearest mosque for the same purpose, and with
similar results; then, being unable to read himself, he paid
five men to recite from the Koran at night, in the mosque, and
invited thereto the captain, Mustafa Aga, and his son and
several others; he, the while, sitting outside and offering
coffee to whoever passed by. When it was all over he came to me
radiant: "El Hamdul illah," he said, throwing up his hands,
"this is good! I am happy, everybody to be satisfied! this is
rich day! El Hamdul illah! my money is all gone! why shall I
mind? I spend it for God! brabs something good happen for me, el
Hamdul illah!" His delight at the performance of his vow and his
absolute faith were the prettiest thing one could see. Talking
of faith, I am much struck by the dignified simplicity with
which Mahometans practise the observances of their religion;
praying at the appointed times without concealment, wherever
they happen to be, and as a matter of course.
_Friday, 23rd._--Started early and coaled, first at Erment and
then again at Esne, after which, being stopped by the night and
shallow water, we anchored off a bank nowhere in particular.
Heavens, what a hot day! this is indeed "the fire that quickens
Nilus' slime," but has a vastly different effect on me.
Sketching will be quite out of the question unless it gets
rapidly cooler.
At Esne I was visited by the chief magistrate, and by the
governor of the province; the former a jolly old _bonhomme_ who
offered me snuff, the other a very refined old gentleman with
most charming manners. Both were Turks; and as they spoke no
Christian tongue our conversation was carried on entirely
through a dragoman; I was, however, pleased to find that I
recognised several words that I learnt last year at
Constantinople; I was glad, too, to hear again that fine
vigorous language, the sound of which is extremely agreeable to
me. Eastern manners are certainly very pleasing, and the
frequent salutations, which consist in laying the hand first on
the breast and then on the forehead, making at the same time a
slight inclination, are graceful without servility. When an
Egyptian wishes to express great respect he first lowers his
hands to the level of his knees, exactly as in the days of
Herodotus.
Talking of Herodotus, here is a first-rate subject for Gerome
suggested by that author; it is ethnographical and ghastly. The
scene is laid in the establishment of an ancient Egyptian
embalmer and undertaker, fitted up with all the implements and
appliances of the trade; in the background, but not so far as to
exclude detail, groups of assistants should be shown busied over
a number of corpses and illustrating all the different stages of
preparation, embalsamation, swathing, &c. &c. In the centre a
bereaved family have brought their lamented relative, and are
selecting, from specimens submitted to them by the master
undertaker, a style of treatment suited to their taste and
means, and expressive of their particular shade of grief. A
large assortment of mummy-cases would form appropriate
accessories and give great scope for the display of knowledge
and the use of a fine brush. It seems to me that so pleasing a
mixture of corpses and archaeology, impartially treated by that
polite and accomplished hand, could not fail to create
considerable sensation.
Took a stroll through Esne whilst the ship was coaling. The
darker tints of skin are beginning to preponderate more and
more; mummy colour is in the ascendant here, together with a
fine Brunswick black. The _men_, I observe, spin in this
country. The children are quite fascinating; they have nothing
on but a little tuft of hair on the top of their shaven heads;
those dazzling little teeth of theirs are wonderful to see, and
funny--like a handful of rice in a coal-scuttle. Fine sunset
again; the hills, ranged in an amphitheatre from east to west,
showed a most wonderful gradation from extreme dark on one side
to glowing light on the other. I make the profound reflection
that no two sunsets are alike; this remark, however, does not
extend to _descriptions_ of sunsets--_verb. sap._
When I saw Holman Hunt's "Isabel," his pot of basil puzzled me
sorely; I had seen a great deal of basil, and have an especial
love for it; but I had never seen it except with a very small
leaf. I was sure, however, knowing his great accuracy, that Hunt
had sufficient foundation for the large leaf he gave the plant
in his picture; the very fellow of it is now before me in a
nosegay of flowers, very kindly sent me by the old governor of
Esne. As I smell it I am assailed by pleasant memories of
Lindos--"Lindos the beautiful"--and Rhodes, and that marvellous
blue coast across the seas, that looks as if it could enclose
nothing behind its crested rocks but the Gardens of the
Hesperides; and I remember those gentle, courteous Greeks of the
island (so unlike their swaggering kinsfolk--if they are their
kinsfolk--of the mainland), and the little nosegay, a red
carnation and a fragrant sprig of basil, with which they always
dismiss a guest.
As we lay anchored by the shore in the evening, the dahabiehs
came sweeping past in the moonlight; and the faint glimmering of
the shell-like sails, and the flutter of the water against the
swift, cutting keels, and the silence of the huddled groups, and
the dark watchful figure of the helmsman at the helm, were
strangely fantastic and beautiful.
_Saturday, 24th._--Started at half-past five--passed Edfou
(which I leave for my return) at half-past seven. Shall we reach
Assouan to-day? Hosseyn's pious orgies have, I fear, turned his
head, for I observed yesterday that he has taken to fishing
again. "Brabs!--Insha Allah!" His interpretation of dreams is
worthy of the ancient oracle-mongers; on the night before his
sacrifice he dreamt that he had bought a slave, and then
released it: "Wull! the slave is my sheep--is it not my slave?
Wull, have I not buy it? Wull, I give it to the beebles--go!--I
release it!" Whether the sheep, personally, considered itself
released is problematic.
_Saturday Evening._--Reached Assouan this afternoon at four,
and, after the usual visit from the governor, took a stroll. I
don't yet know whether I am disappointed in the place or not. At
all events it is quite unlike my expectations of it. I had
imagined, I suppose from descriptions, a narrower gorge and
higher rocks; in point of fact there is no gorge at all, but the
river is narrowed, or, rather, split by several islands and some
fine granite boulders cropping up here and there to fret the
river, and announcing the rapids; otherwise the country is open
enough, and original and striking in aspect; I shall know better
to-morrow what I think of it all. I saw during my evening
stroll, and for the first time in my life, a group of slaves,
mostly girls. If I had seen them subjected to any ill-treatment
I should have felt very indignant; but I am bound to own that,
seeing them squatting round a fire like any other children,
showing no mark of slavery, and occupied in cooking their food,
scratching themselves (as well, no doubt, they might!) and
looking otherwise very like monkeys, I found it difficult to
realise to myself the hardship of their position, however much
it may revolt one in the abstract. They were black, and uglier
than young negroes generally are; their hair was arranged in an
infinity of minute, highly-greased plaits all round their heads;
the elder ones were draped; the youngest wore a fringe _pour
tout potage_. This is a noisy night; there is a "moolid" going
on on the high bank to which we have made fast, and which
borders the public square. A double row of howling dervishes are
squatting and rocking and howling after their kind, almost over
my head. In the brief lulls during which they take breath for
further efforts, I hear from the other side of the river the
mournful, weary, incessant creak of the water-wheel (with its
blindfold cow or camel plodding round and round and round,
apparently for ever), which in this region almost entirely
supersedes the hand-worked bucket. The contrast is very curious.
I have just returned the governor's visit. I found him sitting
on a sofa in the piazza opposite the Government House, with
half-a-dozen hand lanterns brought by the guests in front of
him, and on each side a long row of benches (forming an avenue
up to his seat) on which squatted and smoked numbers of
picturesque folk, who looked to great advantage by the
flickering glimmer of the lamps and under the soft warm light of
an African moon. I sat in the place of honour, smoked my
conventional _tchibouque_, drank my inevitable cup of coffee,
conveyed through my dragoman the usual traveller's remarks and
questions (cardboard questions, so to speak, of which I knew the
answers) to my host, who, like all the Turkish officials that I
have seen, has the manners of a perfect gentleman and much
natural dignity.
_Sunday, 25th._--Started for Phylae at half-past seven; arrived
there at nine o'clock. The road leads through a broad tract of
yellow sand (where, I believe, an arm of the Nile is supposed to
have flowed in remote antiquity) along which on either side crop
up, in wild, irregular fashion, bumps and hillocks and hills of
dark red granite, covered over with innumerable fragments of the
same stone, scattered in the most incredible confusion, and
having rather a ludicrous appearance of having been _left about_
and forgotten. You could get an excellent notion of the thing in
miniature, by hastily spilling a coal-scuttle on a gravel walk
and running away.
Above Assouan we are fairly in Nubia, and of course none but the
darkest complexions are to be seen; but so large a number of
negroes make their way here from the Soudan (the Nubians are not
_black_, but of a beautiful dark cairngorm brown), that the
whole place has an air of negro-land which is disagreeable to
me. The young men, indeed, both black and brown, are sometimes
extremely fine fellows (bar the legs, which are never good), but
the girls, as far as one can see them, are tolerably
ill-favoured, and the old women, of an ugliness which passes all
belief. They are _far_ worse than apes. The ladies in this part
of the country gladden the hearts of their admirers by anointing
their bodies with castor oil, so that the atmosphere of their
villages, however full of sweet suggestion to a native, is much
the reverse to a traveller with a nose not attuned to these
perfumes; the smell that greets you through an open door is a
mixture of the bouquet just named, and a penetrating flavour of
accumulated stuffed beasts, and naturally interferes much with
my enjoyment.
At Mahatter we left our donkeys and took a boat to Phylae, a
quarter of a mile, which takes half an hour owing to the
rapidity of the current just above the cataract. The scenery
about Phylae has been spoken of as Paradise; I never saw anything
less like my notion of Paradise, and so far, therefore, I am
disappointed. Original and strange it is, in a high degree. It
is in fact exactly like the valley of which I spoke a little
further back, only that the hills are four times as high, and
water takes the place of the sand; the same breaking up of the
rocks into a myriad of fragments, putting all grandeur and
massiveness of form out of the question--and, with the exception
of a few palm trees and a sycamore or two, the same barrenness.
Looking up in the direction of Wady Halfa, the mountains appear
to grow finer in outline, and a tract of very yellow sand
amongst their highest crests is striking and original--gold dust
in a cup of lapis lazuli. With the island itself and its
beautiful group of temples it is impossible not to be delighted.
Nothing could be more fantastic or more stately than the manner
in which it rises out of the bosom of the river like a vast
ship, surrounded as it is on all sides by a high wall sheer from
the water to the level on which the temples stand. One hall in
the main temple, and one only, shows still a sufficient amount
of colour to give a very good idea of what the effect must have
been originally; the green and blue capitals must have been very
lovely. It is needless to say that here, as elsewhere,
travellers have left by hundreds lasting memorials of their
brutality, in the shape of names and dates drawn, painted,
scratched, and cut on every wall and column, so that the eye
finds no rest from them. This strange and ineffably vulgar mania
is as old as the world, and the tombs of the kings at Thebes are
scrawled over with inscriptions left there by ancient Greek and
Roman visitors. I shall return to Phylae shortly to make a sketch
or two--_Insha Allah._
Here, at last, I have found that absolutely clear crystalline
atmosphere of which I had so often heard; I own it is not
pleasing to me; a sky of burnished steel over a land of burning
granite would no doubt be grand if the outlines of the granite
were fine--but they are not. Meanwhile, perspective is
abolished--everything is equally and obtrusively near, and I
sadly miss the soft mysterious veils and pleasant doubts of
distance that enchant one in other lands. I think it very likely
that in winter one has great compensation from the exhilarating
purity of the air; but just now the heat, which is simply
infernal, is too trying for me to do justice to these
advantages; no doubt the air is light and dry, but I feel
unfortunately so very heavy and wet, that I am not in a position
fully to appreciate it. Returning to Assouan in the evening, saw
a dahabieh that had just got through the jaws of the cataracts,
always rather a nervous matter; at least so they say; "to be
very dyinger" (dangerous?), according to Hosseyn; the men were
chanting a monotonous strain that had little of triumph in it,
but rather conveyed a feeling of an always impending calamity
escaped _this_ time; it was melancholy and very striking, I
thought, in the silence of the gloaming; very likely pure fancy
on my part, for I doubt whether more than a couple of boats are
lost in a season, and the sailors of the Nile must be well
accustomed to the dangers of these rapids; but the impression on
me at the time was very strong.
_Monday, 26th._--The dragoman of the ship having a swelling of
some sort on his arm, an Arab doctor was sent for, and forthwith
informed him that his arm was possessed of the devil!! Went to
see the island of Elephantina opposite Assouan, but saw nothing
to suggest its ancient magnificence. Gave a silver farthing to a
funny little child, which (the farthing) being perforated, his
mother immediately tied into one of his little oily locks--an
ingenious substitute for a pocket. I observed several little
boys simply attired in a piece of string tied round their
loins--there, Diogenes!
_Tuesday, 27th._--Began sketching, but am out of form from the
heat. I am working chiefly because I am weary of idleness. I
don't much care for the two sketches I have begun; they will
therefore probably turn out badly. Going to try another
presently.
Tuesday Evening._--Have begun a sketch which interests me more
than the others; it is taken amongst the tombs and shrines on
the hills south of the town towards Phylae. As my evening's work
was drawing to a close, I heard a shuffling of feet a little
behind me, and, turning round, saw, in the full fire of sunset,
what appeared to me at first to be a procession of golden apes
with dark blue robes, light blue lips, and nose-rings; on closer
inspection they turned out to be Nubian women going home to
their village. Hosseyn, _qui a le mot pour rire_, apparently,
engaged in conversation with them, and convulsed them with
laughter; the flashes of teeth were very funny to see. At last
he gave them a few halfpence, and desired them to sing; whereon
they set up a series of the most uncouth howls I ever heard; one
baboon in particular got up and, using a flat date basket as a
tambourine, accompanied her vocal performance with hops and
jumps that would have done honour to any inmate of the
monkey-house in the Zoological Gardens.
The twilight, walking home, was lovely. The earth was in colour
like a lion's skin; the sky of a tremulous violet, fading in the
zenith to a mysterious sapphire tint. "Dolce color d'oriental
zaffiro."
Slew another sheep--"Allah hou akbar!" (without which formula in
the killing a good Muslim must not touch the meat): this sheep
is no empty formality, for the unfortunate sailors would never
see meat without it; they live on bread and occasional beans.
This is the fourth night of the moolid, which is to last the
whole week! At this very moment the tambourines of the dervishes
are driving me nearly wild with their diabolic din.
_Wednesday, 28th._--Got on indifferently with my sketches; only
one of them interests me much. The morning was almost cool and
really delightful, but the heat was as great as ever in the
daytime. I have always been unable to see the extraordinary
difference which is said to exist between the length of the
twilight in the north, and in southern countries; I could have
read large print to-night three-quarters of an hour after
sunset. Habit is everything, no doubt, as we are reminded by
Herodotus, _a propos_ of a certain people who ate their dead
relatives instead of burning them; but I wonder whether I should
ever get accustomed to the aching, straining, creaking complaint
of the water-wheel far and near, morning, noon and night,
morning, noon and night; I can _just_ fancy its becoming
attaching as the clacking of a mill.
I have often wondered why, contrary to all analogy, the
Spaniards call oil _azedo_, which at first sight appears to be
the same word as the Italian _aceto_. I find that the word is
Arabic: _zeyd_. Mem.: Look up the etymology of the English word
_cough_, to which no European word that I remember has any
affinity, and which rather appears to be onomatopoeic. The Arabs
say _kokh_ (guttural ending); is this a mere coincidence, and
does the word date beyond the Crusades? I find a good many words
that have a curious likeness to English. My endeavours to pick
up a little Arabic are almost entirely frustrated by Hosseyn's
utter inability to pull a sentence to pieces for me. In an
Arabic sentence of two words (_e.g._ _azekan tareed_--if you
please) he could not tell me which word was the verb! literally;
I had to find out as best I could. I never saw anything to
approach his obtuseness in the matter, except perhaps that of
Georgi, my dragoman in Turkey. As I was sketching this evening a
Nubian passed me, very grandly draped and erect, and followed by
two green monkeys that were fastened by leading-strings to his
belt. They toddled very snugly after their stately master and
made a queer group.
_Sunday, November 1._--I am in a state of appreciative enjoyment
of the comforts and civilised cleanliness of my steamer, having
just returned from three or four days' roughing in the ruins of
Phylae. "Roughing" is a relative term, and my trials were of a
very mild description, for though I slept _a la belle etoile_
(or rather tried to sleep), at all events I had a bed to rest
in, and the air at night was delightful; moreover, the
commissariat was very satisfactorily managed, so that food and
drink were abundant; nevertheless, I must maintain that living
in an open ruin is not comfortable. I made two or three
sketches, and should probably have enjoyed myself, but that on
the second day I was entirely thrown off the rails by the heat
whilst sketching; I thought I should get a _coup de soleil_; I
was very indisposed in the evening, and utterly unable to work
the next morning, so that I took the place _en grippe_, and
could see nothing but the ugliness of the rocks and the wearing
monotony of the hieroglyphs. Picked up in the evening, and
liked the place better; made some original and striking
reflections about the desirability of health.
Having heard much of the beauty of the full moon at Phylae, timed
my visit to see it, and was entirely delighted. The light was so
brilliant that one could read with ease, but at the same time so
soft, so rich, and so mellow that one seemed not to see the
night, but to be dreaming of the day. The Arabs say of a fine
night, "it is a night like milk," but there is more of amber
than of milk in the nights of Phylae. The rising of the moon last
night was the first thing of the sort I ever saw; the disc was
perfectly golden, not as in a mist, but set sharp and clear in
the sky, and exactly like the sun, except that you could look at
it without pain to the eyes. The effect of this effulgent light
on the shoulder of the hill was magical. The last hour of the
afternoon I spent in strolling about the villages, which are
picturesque. The cottages are four brown, roofless walls, built
of the usual unburnt brick, and coated with mud; but the
doorways are always highly decorated with painted geometrical
devices which, in the mass of plain, sober brown, have a very
cheerful and artistic effect. The people, too, amuse me; a
pleasant, gentle, grinning folk these Nubians seem; I like their
jargon--after the guttural Arabic it sounds so soft and round,
and the women have funny, cooing inflections of voice (pretty
voices, often) that are pleasing. Some of the girls are
good-looking; chiefly through the brightness of their eyes and
the milky whiteness of their teeth. The coiffure of the children
is too funny; it consists in tufts of hair of various shapes and
patterns left on an otherwise shaven head; often a crest all
down the middle and a tuft on each side, exactly like the
clown's wig in a pantomime; it is irresistibly droll.
A grand sight is to see the villagers keeping the birds from
their crops; they all serve in their turn, men, women, and
children; they stand each on a rude sort of scaffold which rises
about two feet clear of the corn; they are armed with slings
from which they hurl lumps of clay at the birds, uttering loud
cries at the same time. Their movements are full of grandeur and
character. I wonder Gerome has never treated a subject so well
suited to him. Why, too, has he never painted mine enemy the
sakkea, which is even more emphatically in his way, for, besides
the scope for fine and quaint forms both in the men and the
animals that work it, the accessories are abundant and
interesting, and there are ropes in great abundance.
_Is_ the sakkea my friend or my enemy? Its chant is so incessant
that I should have to make up my mind if I stayed longer in the
country; it would either fascinate me or drive me mad. As I
listen in the silence of the evening, the rise and fall, the
shifting and swaying of the wind bring its complaint from across
the gurgling river in such a fitful way that it has the
strangest and most unexpected effects: sometimes I fancy I hear
deep, drowsy tones of a distant organ, sometimes the shrill
quavering of a bagpipe; sometimes it is like a snatch of a song,
sometimes like a whole chorus of voices singing a solemn strain
in the sad, empty night; sometimes, alas! too often, like a
snarling, creaking door-post.