ON THE ARTS OF MEROE.
Affluence would introduce a Taste for the Arts. — The
Heat of the Climate favourable to Sedentary Pursuits. —
Private Emulation would afford farther Encouragement. —
Desire of distinguishing themselves by Intellectual
Pursuits. — Testimony of Diodorus that Knowledge was very
generally diffused in Ethiopia. — The Pyramids of Meroe
the oldest Specimens of Ethiopian Art. — Civilisation of
the Ethiopians proved by their monumental Edifices. — The
Ethiopians Inventors of the Arch. — Egyptian Arches. —
Ethiopian Sculpture. — Probable Cause of their peculiar
Style. — Reasons for preserving it. — Deference of the
Ptolemies and Romans for the Superstitions of the
Egyptians. — Pleasing Effect of the Egyptian and
Ethiopian Sculpture. — Admirable Manner of drawing
Animals, Hieroglyphics, and their Taste in Ornaments. —
Colouring on Ethiopian Sculpture. — The Knowledge of the
Arts descended from Ethiopia. — Complexion of the ancient
and present Inhabitants. — Accuracy of Diodorus’s Account
proved by the Monuments. — Taste for the Arts in a Nation
inseparable from other Intellectual Pursuits. — Works of
the Ethiopian King Tirhaka. — Review of the Antiquities
in Ethiopia. — Folly of comparing the present with the
ancient Inhabitants of the Valley of the Nile 346
=ILLUSTRATIONS.=
* * * * *
MAP OF THE NILE from Assuan to the conflux of the Bahr El Abiad
and the Azruk.
ENGRAVINGS ON STONE.
PLATE Page
I. Shageea of the Desert and Camel Man of the 164
Ababde Tribe
II. Sheahk Beshir, and Son of a Bishareen Sheahk 46
III. Nazr ed Deen and Sheakh Sayd, Chief of the 44
Ababde Tribe
IV. Senna and Indigo Plants 240
V. General Plan of the Pyramids of Meroe 66
VI. Principal Group of the Pyramids of Meroe 68
VII. Sections of the Pyramids of Meroe 70
VIII. View of the Pyramids of Meroe 72
IX. View of the Pyramids of Meroe 74
X. Sculpture in the Porticoes of the Pyramids of 76
Meroe
XI. Sculpture in the Porticoes of the Pyramids of 78
Meroe
XII. Sculpture in the Porticoes of the Pyramids of 80
Meroe
XIII. Plan of the Ruins of Wady Owataib 100
XIV. Picturesque View of the ruins of Wady Owataib 102
XV. Picturesque View of the ruins of Wady Owataib 104
XVI. Costumes of Moussa, Son of a Melek of Berber, 88
and a Woman of Shendy
XVII. General Plan of the Ruins of Gibel el Birkel 134
XVIII. General View of the Ruins of Gibel el Birkel 136
XIX. View of the Temple of Tirhaka 138
XX. View of the Temple of Tirhaka 140
XXI. Plan of the Temple of Tirhaka 142
XXII. Restoration of the Temple of Tirhaka 144
XXIII. View of Temple of Amun Sekon Gibel el Birkel 146
XXIV. Plan of the Great Temple at Gibel el Birkel 148
XXV. View from the Great Temple at Gibel el Birkel 150
XXVI. View of the Pyramids of Gibel el Birkel 152
XXVII. View of the Pyramids of Gibel el Birkel 154
XXVIII. Sections of the Pyramids of Gibel el Birkel 156
XXIX. Sculpture in the Portico of a Pyramid at 158
Gibel el Birkel
XXX. Melek of the Shageea Tribe 162
XXXI. View of the Pyramids of Nouri 166
XXXII. Plan of the Pyramids of Nouri 168
XXXIII. View of a Colossal Statue in the Island of 210
Argo
XXXIV. View of a Colossal Statue in the Island of 212
Argo
XXXV. Restoration of the two Colossal Statues in 214
the Island of Argo
XXXVI. View of the Exterior of a Dongolah Cottage 192
XXXVII. View of the Interior of a Dongolah Cottage 194
XXXVIII. Shageea fighting 228
XXXIX. Hassanyeh Tribe 188
XL. Plan of the Temple of Solib 246
XLI. View of the Temple of Solib 248
XLII. View of the Temple of Solib 250
XLIII. View of the Temple of Solib 252
XLIV. View of the Temple of Amarah Frontispiece.
XLV. Ruins of Semneh 276
XLVI. Part 1. Grand Ethiopian Procession in a Tomb 328
at Thebes
XLVII. Part 2. Grand Ethiopian Procession in a Tomb 330
at Thebes
XLVIII. Part 3. Grand Ethiopian Procession in a Tomb 332
at Thebes
XLIX. Part 4. Grand Ethiopian Procession in a Tomb 334
at Thebes
L. Second Cataract of the Nile 278
LI. Sculpture in the Temple of Semneh 270
LII. Osshi Plant 240
LIII.} Hieroglyphic Inscriptions and Sculpture at
} Meroe and Gibel el Birkel
LIV.} 286
WOOD ENGRAVINGS.
View of the Cottages of Berber 1
View of the Fifth Cataract of the Nile 41
View of the Pyramids of Meroe 69
View of the South-east Group of the Pyramids of Meroe 71
View of the fortified Residence of the ancient Meleks 87
or Kings of Shendy
View of the small Temple of Wady el Owataib 102
Sections of the Columns at Wady el Owataib 104
View of the Temple of Abou Naga 112
Plan of the Ruins of Abou Naga 113
Plan of the Pyramids of Gibel el Birkel 149
View of the Pyramids of Gibel el Birkel 151
View of the fortified House of Melek Tumbol 206
View of the Ruins of an Ethiopian Fort 216
View of the Cataract of Hennek 217
View of a Colossal Statue in the Quarries at Toumbos 218
Section of the Columns of Solib 247
View from a Tomb excavated out of the Rock near Solib 253
Plan of a Temple at Sukkot 254
View of a Temple at Sukkot 253
Plan of the Temple of Amarah 261
Harp of the Shageea 263
View of the Island of Dahl in the Wady el Hadjar 265
View of the Temple of Semneh, West Side of the River 269
Plan of the Temple of Semneh, West Side of the River 271
View of the Temple of Semneh, East Side of the River 273
Plan of the Temple of Semneh, East Side of the River 274
Egyptian Arch formed by approaching Stones 351
Egyptian Arch, elliptical 352
Egyptian Arch, Segment of a Circle 353
Name in Hieroglyphics of King Sabaco 296
Name in Hieroglyphics of King Sevechus 297
Name in Hieroglyphics of King Tirhaka 297
Name in Hieroglyphics of other Ethiopians of the Royal 298
Family
Name in Hieroglyphics of King Ergamenes 314
Name in Hieroglyphics of King Atarramon 315
ERRATA.
Pages 5, 6, 43, 46. _for_ “Katschef, Katshief,” _read_ “Katshef.”
18, 19, 24, 32. _for_ “Ababdis,” _read_ “Ababdes.”
11, 12, 13, 14. _for_ “Melik,” _read_ “Melek.”
20. line 1. _for_ “danger of fatigue,” _read_
“danger and fatigue.”
32. line 1. for “Mogran,” _read_ “Mogram.”
44. line 3. _for_ “Dongolar,” _read_ “Dongolah.”
69. line 18. _for_ “monuments,” _read_ “tablets.”
80. line 9. _for_ “in the second row,” _read_
“in the same row.”
126. line 25. _for_ “eleven,” _read_ “ten.”
157. line 22. _for_ “Psammeticus,” _read_ “Psammitichus.”
157. line 25. _for_ “Thotmes,” _read_ “Thothmes.”
178. the prices of grain in this page are per ardeb.
[Illustration: =THE NILE= from Assuan to the Conflux of the Blue and
White Rivers; _Comprising the routes across_ The Great Nubian and
Bahiouda Deserts. =By G. A. Hoskins, Esqr.=
_London: London & Co. Paternoster Row. 1835._
_J. Arrowsmith._]
=TRAVELS=
IN
=ETHIOPIA.=
[Illustration: COTTAGES OF BERBER.]
CHAPTER I.
INTENDED RETURN TO CAIRO. — ARRIVAL OF ARTIST. — DETERMINATION
TO PENETRATE TO MEROE. — MOTIVES. — ADVANTAGES TO BE DERIVED FROM
THE DISCOVERIES OF YOUNG, WILKINSON, CHAMPOLLION, AND ROSELLINI. —
DEPARTURE FROM THEBES. — TURKISH MODE OF FASTING. — ARRIVAL AT
ASSUAN. — HINTS TO TRAVELLERS ON TURKISH ETIQUETTE. — NAZR OF
BERBER. — UNPROMISING ACCOUNTS OF THE DESERT. — DETENTION FOR WANT
OF CAMELS. — SHEAKH OF THE ABABDE TRIBE. — RUINS OF ELEPHANTINE
AND ASSUAN. — BOSNIAN SOLDIERS. — WATER SKINS DEFECTIVE. —
ARRIVAL OF THE CAMELS. — COMMENCEMENT OF THE JOURNEY. — NUBIAN
POVERTY. — CARAVAN FROM KHARTOUN. — CULTIVATION IN LOWER
NUBIA. — SINGULAR AND PICTURESQUE SCENERY. — NUBIAN PEASANTRY
AND THEIR SLAVES. — TURKISH HUMANITY. — ROMAN ENCLOSURE AT
DACKER. — PROVISIONS IN NUBIA. — SIMILARITY OF A MODERN AND
ANCIENT CUSTOM. — NUBIANS, THEIR PREJUDICES, POVERTY, FOOD,
WANT OF RELIGION, AND DRUNKENNESS — THEIR DOMESTIC COMFORT, AND
COMPARATIVE FREEDOM. — WADY EL ARAB. — ARRIVAL AT KOROSKO. —
PREPARATIONS FOR CROSSING THE GREAT NUBIAN DESERT. — THE GOVERNOR
OF KOROSKO. — DRUNKEN COPTIC SECRETARY.
_Feb._ 1. 1833. Having spent twelve months in the valley of the Nile,
I had designed to leave Thebes this week, and return to Cairo. To
this long period had an intended stay of a few weeks been protracted,
in consequence of my daily increasing devotion to the fascinating
but laborious study of Egyptian antiquities. I cannot, however,
escape some uncomfortable feelings when I contrast the prospect now
before me, of privation and dreariness in a long journey through the
desert, with the hopes I had indulged of returning now to Europe,
to the enjoyments of social and domestic intercourse, and the
refinements and comforts of civilised life. My boat was ready, and all
preparations made for my voyage down the Nile, when its direction was
changed by the arrival of Signor Bandoni, a skilful Italian artist,
whom I had long anxiously expected. I then immediately determined
to proceed with my projected journey to the antiquities of Meroe,
and thus complete my investigation of the architectural wonders
of the Nile. Wearied, however, with my previous labours at Thebes,
and in the Oasis Magna, I had felt reluctant to make this arduous
attempt without the assistance of an artist. Had I now lacked courage,
the redoubtable appearance of my Lucchese ally would have inspired
me with resolution to encounter the wildest Bishareen of the Nubian
desert, or the hungriest lion of Ethiopia. The Signor brings with
him his bosom companion, a double-barrelled Spanish _escopette_, of
awe-inspiring calibre, the destructive powers of which, he assures me,
have been frequently proved upon the turtle doves in the palm groves
of the Nile: he animates me also with the assurance, that “non ha
niente paura;” nor, since his landing in these barbarous regions,
has he yet known bodily fear, except once, and that by mistake,
when scared by the _lion-like_ roar of a buffalo, near the base of
Pompey’s Pillar. The valley of the Nile, as far as Wady Halfah,
has been described by many. Only six or seven Europeans have
penetrated beyond that cataract; and, unfortunately, all even of
those were not sufficiently acquainted with Egyptian antiquities,
and competent, as artists, to give a satisfactory description and
correct delineations of the interesting remains which still exist in
those remote regions.[2] In using the term acquainted, I do not mean
to state that any person has penetrated very deeply into the mysteries
of Egyptian lore, much less can I pretend to have lifted “the veil
of Isis which no mortal has yet raised;” but even a slight knowledge
of the recent discoveries in hieroglyphics gives to the traveller
of the present day an advantage over, perhaps, even the most learned
travellers who visited this country before the discoveries of Young,
Wilkinson, Champollion, and Rosellini. Egypt is no longer a field for
speculative ingenuity and brilliant imagination. The daylight has
appeared, and the efforts of talent and perseverance have cleared
away many of the difficulties which obstructed the first labourers
in this rich mine of antiquarian research. Enough is already known
of hieroglyphics to make the subject be duly appreciated by literary
men, and we may confidently expect important information from that
source. The drawings which have hitherto been made in Upper Nubia
are considered to be very inaccurate; much has been left undone, and
the hieroglyphics have been but partially and imperfectly copied;
while many of the inscriptions are totally unknown. Aware of these
circumstances, and also that not a drawing or description of the
antiquities of Meroe has yet been published in England, and hoping
that my labours may be of some service to those interested in these
subjects, I leave Thebes to encounter again the fatigues and perils
of the desert; but Meroe is before me, the probable birth-place of
the arts and sciences.
I bade adieu, last night, to my kind friends, Mr. and Mrs. Hay, whose
society, attention, and valuable services, have been an indescribable
resource to me during my long residence at Thebes. I felt how
gratifying it is, in setting out on a journey of this description,
to have the warm wishes of others that it may be successful. “Bring
as many drawings as you can,” was the good advice given to me,
and which I intend to follow.
I cannot perform impossibilities, by bringing the antiquities
themselves; but I trust and hope, with the assistance of my
camera lucida, my long experience in drawing that peculiar style
of architecture and sculpture, and last, though not least, the
valuable aid of my excellent Italian artist, Signor B., I shall be
able to bring back drawings and plans which shall have the merit and
value of strict accuracy. But I must disclaim, in the outset, any
idea of adding much to the geographical knowledge of the interior
of Africa. The object of my journey is Meroe, and to elucidate
the existing vestiges of the ancient grandeur of the kingdom of
Ethiopia. The wind this day has been favourable; but there was so
little of it, that our progress has not been great.
_Feb._ 2. We arrived at Esneh this morning at eight, and remained
until ten. I wished to see the Governor, to procure from him a letter
to the Nazr of Assuan, requesting him to assist me in procuring
camels; but I was told that he was asleep, and would not be visible
till late in the afternoon. It is now the month of Ramadan, during
which the law forbids them to eat or drink before sunset; however,
the Turkish grandees avoid this privation by turning night into day,
sleeping the greater part of the latter, and devoting the former
to business and their pleasures. This manner of keeping their
fast is somewhat similar to the devotee Peter Pindar describes,
who, when sentenced to perform a pilgrimage with peas in his shoes,
wisely took the liberty to boil his peas. The wind being favourable,
I could not wait the awakening of the Mahmoor.
_Assuan.—Feb. 5._ In our journey of this and the two preceding days,
we have only had six to seven hours of wind; however, this afternoon,
we arrived at Assuan, and I immediately waited on the Nazr to procure
camels. On entering a Turkish divan, the traveller is merely required
to make a grave bow, placing his right hand to his left breast,
and to seat himself on the divan in the Turkish style, which, for
the information of those readers who have not been in the country,
I should say is exactly that easy position, which it seems in Europe
tailors only are privileged to assume. When seated, he usually salutes
the great man again in the same manner as before; but if the latter
be of very high rank, it is better to show respect by placing the
right hand, first, to the lips, and then, above the forehead. A few
complimentary speeches are now exchanged; such as “How do you do?”
“What a tall man you are!” “What a fine beard!” “You are
like one of us!” Welcome and thanks. Coffee is then presented to the
traveller. The Pasha gives pipes to noblemen at his own divan only;
but every English gentleman has a right to expect one, or to smoke
his own at the divan of any of his subordinate officers. The Turk,
if he is only a Katshef or Nazr, ought to make a kind of half rise
from his seat when the traveller enters; but it is very seldom that
his pride and desire of appearing a great man in his little court
permits him to show this courtesy. All the Turks possess, or have
the power of assuming, an apparently natural dignity of manner. The
liberated slave, raised suddenly to rank and authority, seems always
at his ease, as if born to the station that he fills. Education, that
is, the having learned with difficulty to read and write a letter
of four or five lines, makes no distinction, being an attainment in
which those of the highest rank are sometimes deficient. I presented
to the Nazr, a common-looking fellow, the Pasha’s firman, which,
as usual, he kissed and placed to his forehead. As soon as his
Coptic writer had read it to him, he ordered me a pipe, an attention
previously omitted, and in the mean time offered me his own; but
my servant at that moment entered with mine. I had ordered it,
because my not assuming my right in this trifling etiquette would
have made me less respected, not only by the Nazr and his court, but,
what was of real consequence, by the Arabs, who were to accompany me
across the desert to Berber. Generally I hate etiquette and ceremony,
as the north and north-east winds of society; but I have found from
experience, that with the Turks it is absolutely necessary to insist
upon their observance. Travellers, in their ignorance of Eastern
manners, are generally too humble to them. If even a Katshef pays
them a visit, they rise from their seats and bow, as often and as
low as if he were a monarch. Accordingly, when they return the
visit, they have the mortification to perceive, that the Turk,
misconstruing such European courtesy into obsequiousness, and an
acknowledgment of inferiority, does not even rise to receive him;
but, with a slight condescending nod, desires his visitor to be
seated, and of course has less regard to his requests in matters
of real importance. The days of Burckhardt are past. The traveller
throughout Mohammed Ali’s dominions has now no occasion to submit
to any indignity, or even incivility: his forbearance will gain him
nothing except the consciousness of having fruitlessly submitted to
the contempt of an ignorant and illiterate barbarian. I have dwelt
upon this little circumstance, from my experience of its importance
for the guidance of future travellers. The Nazr, during the rest of
my visit, was profuse in his offers of services. He informed me, that
the Government were themselves in want of camels; but that I should
have the first that could be procured, which he hoped would be next
day. Along with the Nazr was a Bey, just returned across the desert
from Berber. I could get little information from him; and, indeed,
could not ask many questions of him, as I found he had just been
removed from the government in disgrace, on account of extortion. I
might have guessed the cause from his physiognomy, for I have rarely
seen so villainous a countenance. He did not seem neglected in his
adversity, as numbers of Turks were visiting him, each kissing his
hand, and wishing him a speedy return to the favour of the Pasha. He
gave me no flattering description of the desert, telling me I should
feel it bitterly cold at night, and should spend nine or ten days,
without finding any water at all drinkable. The sorry condition of
his camels, too, strongly confirmed the truth of this account.
_Feb._ 6. I heard this morning, with surprise, that I should probably
have to wait a week longer before procuring camels. Knowing the
Turks to be adepts at procrastination, I went to the Nazr, and
urged the necessity of my starting immediately. At my request, he
sent for the Sheakh of the Ababdes, the tribe who provide camels to
caravans and travellers for the journey between Assuan and Makkarif,
the capital of Berber. They act also as carriers to the Red Sea,
the Oasis Magna, along the Nile to Dongolah, and also across the
western side of the great Nubian desert. The residence of the
Sheakh being two hours distant, he did not arrive before this
evening. I was agreeably struck with his appearance; he was a man
of middle size; extremely regular features; a calm and dignified
manner; a benevolent, and at the same time noble, expression of
countenance. His dress was remarkably neat and clean. His turban
and long linen gown were beautifully white and of good materials. He
promised us that we should have camels the next day, and we agreed
that the price should be seventy piastres for the use of each during
the journey to Makkarif, where, it is said, we shall arrive in twenty
days. It is rather annoying to be thus detained, since every day is
of consequence, the season being so far advanced; but it is some
consolation that our time has not been quite lost. The island of
Elephantine is no longer adorned with temples. Some ruins of walls,
a rude statue of Osiris, slight traces of the temple of Chnubis,
and the Nilometer, are all the remains which now exist. The northern
part resembles a garden ornamented with beautiful groves of palm trees
and the richest cultivation. Syene offers still less to interest the
antiquarian, but much to strengthen the believer in Holy Writ. The
prophetic denunciation of Ezekiel is fulfilled. The tower of Syene
has truly fallen from the pride of her power. The ruin of a pier,
partly Roman but chiefly Arab, and an insignificant fragment of a
temple, are the only vestiges of this once important city. Yet the
natural scenery around is still beautiful, and the views from it,
as well as from the Island of Elephantine, are the most lovely in
Egypt. The castle of Syene, built by the Bosnian soldiers, forms,
even in its ruined state, a highly picturesque object. Several of
the descendants of the Bosnian soldiers are living at Assuan, and
in Lower Nubia. I met with one as far south as Amarah.[3]
_Feb._ 7. No camels are arrived; we are obliged, therefore, to
delay another day. This requires some patience, when every thing is
prepared for our expedition. I superintended this morning the filling
of the skins with water: I am sorry to find them very indifferent,
although the best I could procure.
_Philæ.—Feb._ 9. After repeated applications to the Governor,
I have procured at last nine camels and two dromedaries for
ourselves. Any complaint of this delay would be unreasonable,
otherwise than as a misfortune. Several Turks in the employment
of the Pasha have been detained for want of them during this
last fortnight; notwithstanding which, from their knowledge of his
favour for travellers, they have given me the preference. Our start,
however, is at last made. I have been very anxious to leave Assuan,
having perceived an increasing disinclination on the part of my
artist and servants to undertake the journey. The tales of some
Arab merchants have excited among them so much alarm, that all my
powers of persuasion and remonstrance were necessary to keep them
from defection. They have unfortunately heard the exclamations
of some of my old Nubian friends, the Rais of the Cataract and
others, when I told them I was going to Shendy. “Wonderful! God
is great! but are you not afraid to go into such a hot country,
where it rains fire?” It has been no easy task to persuade them
that a passage of eight or ten days over a desert, without water,
and of twenty days without intermission on the backs of camels, can
be an easy undertaking. I hope, for their sakes, we shall not have
to suffer much: as to myself, I feel more indifferent. I am going to
Meroe; and the idea of the desert, notwithstanding Burckhardt’s,
and still more Bruce’s, description of it, does not damp my ardour.
_Sail on the Nile.—Feb._ 10. We left Philæ this morning at half
past seven, entered into the mountains, and at three o’clock
descended again into the valley of the Nile; at a quarter to six,
we pitched our tents on the banks of the river. The mountains we
have passed are of the same character as at the cataract, chiefly
of syenite, the exterior of which is darkened by the sun. The
formation consists of the same round blocks, appearing at a distance
as disjoined. The place where we are encamped, and indeed all the
country we have traversed to-day, is miserably poor. The strip
of cultivated land is not an eighth of a mile in breadth. Barley,
cotton, and _sherangig_ are all that the country produces. The latter,
which forms the chief food of the Nubian, is a hard disagreeable
kind of pea, which no culinary art can render palatable to European
taste. We have passed several small villages, each containing from
ten to twenty houses. This morning we met a troop of cavalry from
Khartoun, which had passed the desert, of which they gave us any
thing but an encouraging description. They say we shall be ten days
in crossing it; and “take care of your water” is their constant
advice. The same admonition has been dunned in our ears more than
a hundred times since the day that we arrived at Assuan.
_Marwal.—Feb._ 11. We set out this morning at half past seven,
and proceeded, for some time, on the banks of the river. Nearly
opposite to the small temple of Kardassy, we again turned into the
mountains. There the granite chain suddenly ceases, and the hills are
of sandstone, until opposite Tafey, where again, for a short space,
they are of granite, and then of sandstone. Arriving at the district
of Kalabshy, I found the mountains partially composed of sandstone,
and immediately afterwards of granite. The belt of cultivated land,
on both sides of the river, is always extremely narrow, seldom
above fifty paces wide; and sometimes the rocks extend to the water,
scarcely leaving a narrow and dangerous path. My own camel fell, and
also the one conveying the baggage. This is the first time that such
an accident has occurred to me with these animals; and I ought to add,
not to have the appearance of contradicting what I have elsewhere
said, that any horse, or even mule, would have run considerable risk
of stumbling over these slippery granite rocks. Before leaving Assuan,
a fortune-teller came to my tent: being busy at the time, I ordered
her away rather angrily. In her rage, she exclaimed that I should
fall from my camel. I did not expect that her malediction would be
so soon fulfilled. I had quite forgotten the circumstance; but my
Arabs, shaking their heads, soon reminded me of it. My fall might
have been serious, as such accidents with this animal generally are,
if the creature had rolled immediately; but, the instant it stumbled,
I leaped off, and escaped unhurt. Barley, sherangig, and cotton are
the only productions I have observed this day: they are often mingled
together, in patches, upon the same field. I observed the peasants
breaking the sandstone and spreading it on the ground. The best way
of seeing to advantage the scenery on the Nile is, certainly, to
ride on its banks: in a boat the effect is lost. The finest view we
have had this morning, was in descending from the mountains opposite
Tafey. The basalt and red but exteriorly dark-coloured granite,
contrasted with the light red sand of the desert, similar rocks and
sands in the distance, in the midst the serpentine river with its
verdant banks, adorned with groves of palm trees and the interesting
remains of temples, all illumined with the clearest blue sky and the
most gorgeous sunset, formed often a scene to which few painters
could do justice. Though not romantic nor strikingly picturesque,
according to the original import of those terms, yet the extraordinary
contrast and magical effect produced by this wonderful combination of
brilliant colours, are magnificent, and present almost insuperable
difficulties to the artist who attempts faithfully to delineate
such a landscape. Three hours before arriving here, we passed the
small village of Abaho, in which I counted nearly thirty houses. The
inhabitants are evidently wretchedly poor; however, they enjoy the
luxury of idleness. Very few seemed engaged in any occupation. One
woman I observed spinning cotton and two or three busy about their
domestic concerns; but the many were enjoying _il dolce fur niente_
of the Italians. They were almost all miserably clad; the clothes
of both sexes were in rags, the children naked, and girls from
fourteen to sixteen, with beautiful forms, and extremely graceful
and elegant in their movements, had merely a covering which extended
from the waist to a little above the knee. This ceinture, or _rat_,
as it is called in Arabic, is made of thin thongs of hippopotamus
hide, and fancifully ornamented with beads and small shells. The
number of thongs is so great, that it fully serves its purpose as
a covering. They wear it till they are married; an event, however,
which often takes place before they are twelve years of age.
_Dacker.—Feb._ 12. We left the village of Marwal at seven,
and encamped here at sunset. Our route has this day, also, been
alternately in the mountains and on the banks of the river. We
observe the same poverty, the same sterility; villages of about
a dozen houses each, constructed, in the rudest manner, of stones
piled on each other. The cultivated land on the banks is never more
than fifty paces wide, often not twenty, and in some parts the barren
rocks extend to the river. We met, this morning, another troop of a
cavalry regiment, returning by the desert from Khartoun. We shall,
no doubt, meet traces of their passage,—dead camels, if not
men. Some of their animals could scarcely crawl, and one of them
dropped on the ground unable to proceed any farther. The master,
a Turk, seemed very much concerned; but whether for the value of
the beast, or real attachment to his fellow traveller, I will not
decide; yet, in justice to his humanity, I must relate, that, when
the Arabs wished to stab and cut it up for food, he refused his
consent. Finding, however, that it was impossible the animal could
proceed, or even live many hours, he ordered his servant to shoot it
with his musket. This showed some feeling; for had he left it to die
on the road, the Arabs would have killed it with their knives, and
then could lawfully have eaten it. They were very much disappointed
at being deprived of their repast, and considered it quite a waste
of valuable food. We have passed the village and temple of Dandour
(on the other bank), and are now encamped opposite the temple and
village of Dacker.[4] Adjoining is a Roman inclosure of large extent
with towers, constructed of unburnt bricks. There are no traces of a
temple within the inclosure; but contiguous to the south-east corner
are some fragments of a room still adorned with hieroglyphics and
sculpture, but too much defaced for us to discover the subject. The
style is very wretched, and evidently Roman. Mountains of hornblende
and sandstone.
_Wady el Elayat.—Feb._ 13. We quitted Dacker this morning, soon
after sunrise, and have encamped this evening in a small valley near
the river, and, as is generally the custom of the caravans, close to
a village. There is not much provision to be procured from a Nubian
village, frequently not even eggs and fowls. A half-starved sheep
or kid may sometimes be purchased, but at a much higher price than
in Upper Egypt. Yet there is no uniformity in the rates: you have a
sheep one day for six piastres; and the next, perhaps at only thirty
miles’ distance off, you must pay twelve, or even more, for one
not larger. This arises, of course, from the poverty of the land,
and the very little communication which exists between the different
villages. My servants and camel-drivers like to chat with the women;
and, perhaps, near the villages we are less annoyed by the wolves
than we might be at a greater distance, the dogs of the peasants
affording a certain protection, though I have often heard them
snuffing around my tent. We have passed this morning the village
of Uffidunia: the temple of that name is on the opposite side of
the river. Our track has chiefly followed the banks of the Nile,
but the views have not been very pleasing. The mountains consist
chiefly of a soft sandstone, the surface of which is very much
darkened by the sun. We have met another troop of the cavalry from
Khartoun. The soldiers have all male or female slaves; some for
their own service, others on speculation for the Cairo market. The
women are almost entirely covered; sometimes I could distinguish
a fine black eye glancing from under the coverings, but it is not
considered decorous to notice them much. This etiquette, which still
prevails so generally in the East, is the same ancient custom by which
Themistocles profited to facilitate his escape to the Persian king. We
are encamped at the borders of the province called Wady el Elayat.
_Sungar.—Feb._ 14. We have been eleven hours in the district of
El Elayat. We left the small village at the commencement of the
Wady this morning at seven, and encamped here at sunset. This is
the last village of the Wady. We have suffered more from fatigue
than before; the road, or rather path, having led for a long time
over the hills. Immediately after starting, we left the valley of
the Nile for an hour and a half. That part of the road was not very
fatiguing. We passed Seboua at eleven, and at two P.M. left the Nile,
and were obliged to alight from our camels and climb the mountain,
for three hours, over the most difficult paths we have yet met
with. A notion prevails in Europe, that camels are incapable of
crossing rough mountainous and stony roads; I can only say that,
upon this rocky, and sometimes steep path, none of our camels fell;
had we used horses, the difficulty would certainly have been as great,
particularly when heavy loads were upon their backs. I would not have
ventured to ride over, even on a mule. The mountains are of sandstone,
some also of hornblende. I sketched, this evening, a native of this
district, my dragoman in the mean time keeping him in conversation
till I finished my sketch, without his having any suspicion what I was
doing. All the Nubians have a superstitious prejudice against having
their portraits drawn. I made some enquiries about the village,
its name, the number of houses, and of inhabitants, &c. The poor
peasants imagined I was employed by the Pasha to take an account
of the country. Apprehensive that I should cause their taxes to be
raised, they gave me a lamentable description of their poverty, saying
that there were indeed eleven houses, but they were all tumbling to
pieces; that they were miserably poor; had scarcely a rag to cover
them; that their land did produce some little cotton and barley,
but if I caused their taxes to be increased, they could not subsist,
but must absolutely die of starvation. Man here may be said only to
vegetate. He drags on, from day to day, a miserable existence, living
on the coarsest food, and ignorant of any comfort. In examining,
however, more closely, we find the peasants of Nubia possessing
some great advantages over those of Lower and Upper Egypt. Their
domestic comfort is decidedly greater. Their women, unlike those
of Egypt, have always their faces uncovered, and enjoy in other
respects much freedom; while that depravity as regards both sexes,
which pervades the whole land of Egypt, is almost utterly unknown in
these Nubian villages. They are also less oppressed; and, thanks to
the poverty of their country, less annoyed by the presence of their
rulers. Their predominant vice is drinking immoderately of bouza and
arracki. There being only three mosques from the first to the second
cataract, a distance of more than 220 miles, and their almost total
deficiency of religious instruction, are perhaps some excuse for
their violating, in this respect, so openly, and to such an excess,
the precepts of the Koran.
_Korosko.—Feb._ 15. We arrived at this village at ten o’clock. Here
again commences a Nubian dialect, but different from the Kenous, above
the first cataract. The district of Wady el Elayat, or Wady el Arabi,
which we passed through yesterday, is the division between these two
Nubian tribes. We have allowed our camels to rest this afternoon,
previous to commencing to-morrow morning the fatigues, perils, and
privations of the Great Desert: they are making the last hearty meal
which they will enjoy for some time; the Ababdes are filling the water
skins, while my servants are employed in foraging for provisions; no
easy task in a Nubian village. Mr. B. has made me a view in colours
of the extraordinary effect of the scenery in Nubia, produced by
the wonderful contrast between the dark hills and the bright yellow
sands, fringed with strips of the beautiful verdure on the banks of
the river. The Governor, an Effendi, paid me a visit in my tent,
and frankly asked me for several things which he saw, and fancied;
which I as frankly refused. The visits of inferior Turks are always
annoyances: it is very seldom that any information can be obtained
from them, and their impertinence is without bounds. I was amused
by his secretary, a Copt, who complained that he was affected by a
pain in his chest when the weather was cold. I gave him some flannel,
which I could ill spare, also some medicine; and, with other advice,
I told him most peremptorily that he must drink no arracki (spirit).
This last injunction disconcerted him exceedingly; and his master
laughed heartily at an advice which he knew to be so unwelcome to his
jovial secretary. I told him it would kill him. “Well,” said he, “if
it kills me, _maktoob min Allah!_ it is written, but drink I must.”
In the evening, he came to me again, half intoxicated. As I offered
him no beverage, except coffee, he soon, with a cunning smile and an
expressive nod, pulled out of his pocket a small bottle of excellent
arracki and a little cup. I did not wish to offend the fellow, having
occasion to leave some boxes in his charge until my return, and
therefore endured his company for some time. At last, his intoxication
increasing, he was quite insupportable, and I was obliged to desire
my servant to turn him out. His good-humour did not forsake him, nor
did he seem at all offended; coolly observing, that he was sorry I was
tired of his company.
CHAPTER II.
COMMENCEMENT OF THE JOURNEY ACROSS THE GREAT NUBIAN DESERT. —
DESCRIPTION OF THE CARAVAN. — ADVANTAGES OF TURKISH DRESS AND
CUSTOMS. — PROVISIONS NECESSARY FOR THE DESERT. — AKABA, OR
MOUNTAIN PASSES. — DEAD CAMELS. — FEAR OF ROBBERS. — ANXIETY
ABOUT THE STOCK OF WATER. — ARAB OPINION OF TRAVELLERS. —
ALARMING DIMINUTION OF OUR WATER. — DEAD BODIES OF SLAVES AND
CAMELS. — HOJAB EL JENOUS. — BAB EL KOROSKO. — AGE OF THE
CAMEL. — BAHR BELA MA, OR SEA WITHOUT WATER. — MERAGE. —
PERILS AND CHARMS OF THE DESERT LIFE. — DILET EL DOOM, VALLEY
OF THE SHADE OF THE DOOMS. — GOLD MINES. — OMRISHI SUFIR. —
WELLS NOW DRY. — EL MURRAH, OR THE WELL OF BITTER WATERS. —
HIEROGLYPHICS ON THE ROCKS. — COLONY OF BISHAREEN. — HEIGHT AND
CHARACTER OF THE MOUNTAINS. — ARAB SONGS. — GAZELLE. — DANGER OF
LEAVING CARAVAN. — ABSAH GOLD MINES. — STORMS IN THE DESERT. —
CAMBYSES. — BRUCE. — ARAB MANNER OF MOUNTING THE CAMEL. — MANNER
IN WHICH THE ARABS REPOSE. — ARRIVAL AT THE NILE. — ESTIMATE OF
THE LENGTH OF THE ROUTE AND GENERAL PACE OF THE CAMEL.
_The Great Nubian Desert.—Feb._ 16. This morning, at eight
o’clock, we left Korosko, and entered the Desert. Having omitted
until now giving a description of my caravan, I may mention, as
useful to future travellers, the provisions and equipments which may
be considered as necessary for a journey of this description. Both
my artist, Signor B. and myself, wear the Turkish Nizam uniform. A
traveller might, without much risk, retain his European dress;
but it is most prudent and desirable to adopt the Turkish, as
being the best suited, not only to the climate, but also to serve
the important object of commanding respect. Those travellers who
refuse this tribute to the customs of the country pay dear for
their prejudice. If it does not expose them to frequent insult,
they are at all events less esteemed by the natives; and they lose a
decided advantage, in not having the comfort and luxury of a dress
so admirably suited to the climate and manners of the East. Our
unnatural tight trousers, waistcoats, and coats, with their padding,
braces, straps, starch, stiffners, and stocks, in a tropical country
would be intolerable. Another advantage of this comfortable and
graceful costume is, that it enables you to repose with ease in any
position. To sit bolt upright, on a hard chair, in such a latitude as
this, is what no one could endure, who had experienced the luxurious
ease of the Turkish divan. The rest of my caravan consisted of a guide
(Habeer) on his dromedary; a very picturesque-looking fellow. Besides
the usual arms of the Arabs, the long spear, sword, and shield of the
hippopotamus, he had also a brace of pistols attached to his saddle,
which he took great pride in displaying. He was very independent,
and conscious of the importance of his office, so that I was afraid
at starting he would not have been so manageable as I afterwards
found him. My dragoman, Mahomet Abdini, a native of Cairo, was
the cleverest servant I ever knew in any country: his wily tongue
and insinuating address were often of more service to me than my
piastres. I had, besides, a Greek servant, named Ibrahim, alias
Michele; a Mahometan with the Arabs and Turks, and a Christian with
his own countrymen. He speaks Italian fluently, and also the Turkish,
Greek, and Arabic. He is the musician of the party; and his singing,
accompanied by his fiddle, is vastly agreeable to the natives, but,
being in the harsh style of the modern Greeks, is grating to my
ears. I had, besides, a Copt, who had served me long and usefully
at Thebes, in the dignified station of umbrella-bearer. Including,
therefore, our Ababdes, owners of the camels, the full complement
of my little caravan amounts to twelve persons and eleven camels. My
stock of provisions chiefly consists of a large sack of Cairo biscuit,
and another of rice. Besides these two chief requisites, and also
charcoal, I have a good supply of groceries, tea, sugar, coffee,
and wax candles, and last, but most important, twenty geerbahs of
water, which I expect will be amply sufficient for the eight days of
desert journey, though the Signor has forewarned me, most anxiously,
more than fifty times, _che beve molto_. This is the desert in which
Bruce and Burckhardt suffered so much. They took the easterly and more
direct track, which commences at Deroueh, a little below Assuan, and
therefore had a longer space to traverse, with, however, the advantage
of meeting repeatedly with good water. At a quarter past six, P.M.,
we encamped. Our road this day has been through a succession of
narrow valleys, called Akaba, or mountain passes, and small plains,
bounded by low picturesque hills. The valleys are covered with
sand, in some places two feet deep, but generally much less, and
sometimes the bare rock is visible. Sandstone forms the base of the
valley and of the hills. There are, however, some of slate, varying
from 150 to 180 feet in height. I observed a great variety in their
forms. We have already met with a few of the horrors of the desert,
particularly numbers of dead camels, some of which had perished
lately, and vultures were feeding on their carcases. They seem also
to have attracted the hyænas from their dens, as I discerned on
the sand numerous traces of those animals. Some of our water-skins,
I am sorry to find, are bad. I marvel Signor B. did not perceive
this at Korosko, as he took an active part in tying them up. The
journey from Assuan has injured them, yet, with care, I hope to have
a sufficient supply. This evening the camel men objected to pitching
my tent, saying that they were afraid of robbers. I did not yield to
their alarms, as sleeping in the open air is an Eastern custom which
I am not much inclined to try at this season of the year. I cannot
conceive a tent to be much additional attraction to Arab plunderers,
if there are any; but the depredations upon the water, I fear, are
by my own Ababdes, as their own supply is small. I have, therefore,
caused all the geerbahs to be carried into my tent. If we run short,
and have to suffer, it shall not be for want of precautions. While
my camel men were thus occupied, one of them asked me why I was
subjecting myself to the danger and fatigue of such a journey,
when I was rich enough to stay at home. The Arabs are now not so
much surprised at travellers going to Wady Halfah. So many make that
journey, that it is no longer a novelty; besides that, the Cangias
(boats of the Nile), though any thing but agreeable to Europeans,
appear luxurious to the peasants. They can easily conceive the
pleasure of sailing in what they consider delightful conveyances,
listening to the songs of the boatmen, smoking all the day, and
eating and drinking of the best the villages can afford; but that
travellers should voluntarily expose themselves to the fatigues and
heat of the desert, apparently for the sake of a few old stones,
is to them quite incomprehensible.
_Desert.—Feb._ 17. A fearful accident has befallen us. To our utter
dismay, four of our largest geerbahs are empty, the water having
leaked out during the night. The skins are old, although the best
we could procure at Assuan. The rest seem good: Heaven grant that
they may prove so! the consequences of another such accident might be
fatal. We have passed to-day the bodies of seven human beings who have
doubtless recently perished from thirst and fatigue; we have seen also
dead camels without number. We have travelled twelve hours through
valleys of the same character as those we passed yesterday. Some of
the hills might be from 230 to 250 feet in height, but the greater
number from 100 to 150 feet. Many, like those of yesterday, are
isolated, and some standing in the centre of the valleys. They consist
chiefly of slate, but some are of sandstone. They are called Hojab el
Jenous, from there being several representations of buffaloes drawn
on the rocks by some rude artists, probably Arabs. The valleys are
almost entirely covered with sand, on which I found many round balls,
of the form of peaches, of iron glance. At sunset we left the valleys,
the last hills of which are rather higher than the others, and are
called Bab el Korosko, or the Gate of Korosko, and encamped behind
a small hill, at the commencement of a large sandy plain, called
Atmoor Bahr Bela Ma, that is, the sea without water. We have been
twenty-two hours _en route_ in these valleys, which I consider not
less than sixty miles, from the rate we have travelled. The Ababdes
occasionally sing to animate their camels. The effect in accelerating
their speed is quite extraordinary. First one camel-driver sings a
verse, then the others answer in chorus. It reminded me somewhat
of the Venetian gondoliers.[5] I noticed that they lingered near
the bodies of the dead camels, being apparently more affected by
them than by those of the slaves. The latter they perhaps knew not,
while the camels were old acquaintances. I have often made attempts
to learn the age which this animal usually attains, but have never
been able fully to ascertain it. The general answer is, a hundred
years. By examining and tracing the traditionary stories on the
subject, I am led to conceive their span of life equal to that of
man, and subject to similar frequent contingencies from different
causes, such as extremes of heat and cold, excessive fatigue,
and particularly the great neglect of the owners. This evening I
have bestowed great pains on the preservation of the water, having
suspended the suspicious geerbahs in my tent.
_Feb._ 18. We mounted our camels this morning at half past six, and
have had an exceedingly fatiguing ride of thirteen hours, forty miles,
without any repose, struggling through one immense down of sand. There
were some small hills of sandstone, with occasional thin layers of
gypsum. The sand was very fatiguing for the camels: on its surface
I found disseminated many of the round balls of iron flint, or iron
glance, varying from four to eight inches in circumference. Their
exterior is often uneven. I found, also, some balls, hollow like the
others, and occasionally two united together. These were silicious
conglomerates. I observed, also, numerous quartzose pebbles, and
some fragments of white marble, the only specimens I have seen in
this desert. The mountains are chiefly of slate. We have suffered
very much from the fatigue of this day’s journey, and have still
five days’ march through this waterless desert. The only object
to interest me, and relieve the weariness of mind and body, has
been the merage, so often described. Some travellers state that
this phenomenon has deceived them repeatedly. This I am surprised
at, since its peculiar appearance, joined to its occurrence in
a desert where the traveller is too forcibly impressed with the
recollection that no lakes or standing pools exist, would appear
to me to prevent the possibility, that he who has once seen it can
be a second time deceived. Still this does not diminish the beauty
of the phenomenon:—to see amidst burning sands and barren hills
an apparently beautiful lake, perfectly calm, and unruffled by any
breeze, reflecting in its bosom the surrounding rocks, is, indeed,
an interesting and wonderful spectacle; but it is a tantalising
sight to the Arabs traversing the desert on foot, always with a
scanty supply of water, and often, owing to their great imprudence,
wholly destitute of it. There is much of the sublime to elevate,
and of real danger to excite the mind, in the passage of the Desert:
the boundless plains of sand, the thought of the distance from the
habitations of man, and from the most common necessaries of life, the
perpetual apprehension of falling short of water, and the certainty,
that whoever, from fatigue or illness, is unable to keep pace with the
caravan, will at once, with a camel and his share of the provision,
be abandoned to his fate. And what a fate! Few left in this manner
ever reach their destination. My Ababdes seem, also, to have a great
fear of the Bishareen, who occasionally plunder the caravans. These
alarms produce a certain excitement, which calls forth all the energy
of the traveller: but were these dangers tenfold greater than they
really are, the thought that I am approaching nearer and nearer to
Meroe would sufficiently animate my courage.
_Feb._ 19. We mounted our camels this morning at six, and at eleven
we left the Bahr Bela Ma, which we had been eighteen hours in crossing
(fifty-four miles). Our road began to wind amongst the mountains. The
first valley we passed was of considerable breadth, and contained
great numbers of doom and acacia trees. The former were not very
large, bearing no fruit, and apparently drooping for want of water. In
this valley, which is called Dilet el Doom, or Valley of the Shade
of the Dooms, I observed traces of torrents. Three hours to the east
of it, I am informed that there are appearances of exhausted gold
mines, of the habitations of the miners, and the stones used by them
in procuring the precious metal. The Arabs informed me that the rain
falls here chiefly at the rising of the Nile, but that last year there
was none, otherwise we should have seen herbage on the hills;—that
twenty-four hours is sufficient to produce it. This valley has the
appearance of having once been cultivated; but I could discover no
remaining trace of habitations. They tell me that the Bishareen,
when there is pasture on the hills, lead here their flocks, and
pitch their tents in this pretty valley. Perhaps, when Ethiopia
was more populous, and before the gold mines were exhausted, this
road was much frequented; and probably, by sinking wells (for I feel
persuaded that water might be found in these valleys), and by forming
small colonies at suitable stations, a safe and rapid communication
may have existed between the centre and extremity of the kingdom. A
short distance out of the direct road is a well called Omrisha,
now dry, but which contains water during the rainy season. About
an hour and a half beyond this is another well, called Sufir, now
also dry. The mountains consist generally of flinty slate, some
few of sandstone. Their forms are broken, and very picturesque. At
two o’clock we passed through a chain of hills, by a road which
has evidently been artificially formed. This is another proof that
pains have been taken by a more civilised people to diminish the
difficulties of travelling in this region. At four P.M. we entered
the valley of the spring called El Murrah, or the Well of Bitter
Waters, the only one in the Desert that is not now dry; we encamped
for the night, that our camels might have time to drink, and our
men to repose. On one of the rocks of the valley of the spring are
some hieroglyphics. I distinguished the name of the god Horus, and
the hawk, the emblem of that divinity. There are four wells within
a few feet of each other, all exceedingly salt, and considered by
the Arab merchants and Turks as very unwholesome. One, however,
is much better than the others. The Arabs and camels drink of this,
and we have filled some of our water-skins, in case the stock from
the Nile should not be sufficient; otherwise we shall not use it,
as it is extremely salt, and strongly impregnated with iron. One
of my servants, not content with his allowance of the water of
the Nile, drank a large cup of it, which caused nausea and severe
purging for some time afterwards. It has not the same effect on the
Ababdes, who apparently enjoy it as much as their camels. There are
six families of Bishareen stationed here, who attend to cleaning the
wells from sand. The Pasha placed them in this valley, but gives them
no allowance. They possess camels, with which they trade, and supply
the merchants who need these animals. All the caravans give them a
trifle. They live in tents made of mats; and their wild appearance,
extraordinary head-dress, yet fine features, quite accord with our
idea of dwellers in the desert. The nauseous salt water is their only
beverage, but does not seem to disagree with them. I never beheld a
more sad picture of savagery and desolation than their encampment. The
Arab tribes, even the most remote, cannot be called savages, since
they speak one of the richest and most beautiful languages in the
world, and many of them are versed in the Koran; but the harsh and
uncouth gibberish of these wild Bishareen is only intelligible to
themselves. They inhabit tracts of country, where Nature seems almost
to deny them a subsistence; and not even the terror of the Pasha’s
vengeance can restrain their predatory propensities. A European
must have powerful protection from their own chiefs to venture into
their inhospitable wilds. The traveller who has little of novelty to
interest his attention in the dreary desert cannot readily dispel
the gloomy impression forced on his mind by contemplating man in
this his lowest condition. When he reflects on the abject state of
these naked Bishareen, their ignorance of religious principles, of all
intellectual and civilised enjoyments, the scanty and precarious means
by which their life is supported: a dish of coarse unground dourah,
moistened by water of the most disgusting quality; a miserable tent
their only shelter from the tropical sun, and from the nightly cold,
so bitter in these regions, and so painful from its contrast with
the mid-day heat: he is astonished at the physical phenomenon, that
the constitution of man can endure so much privation; and he cannot
but admire the mysteries of Providence, when he sees a human being
of like capacities and passions with himself content and happy in
a state so slightly removed from the condition of the brute.
_Feb._ 20. This morning, at six, we left the Bishareen quite in
joyance at having received a trifle more than the customary gift of
a few piasters, and delighted with the privilege of scrambling for a
few pieces of broken glass, which had been thrown out of my tent. I
should state that last night, and also for two hours before we set out
this morning, they had stationed themselves close to our encampment,
like wild animals seeking their prey. Three quarters of an hour after
our departure from the well, we left the mountains, and our road
then lay over an immense plain of sand, sometimes very difficult
for the camels to wade through, but generally not very soft, and
indeed, occasionally quite hard. This plain, which is ten hours, or
thirty miles, in extent, is almost entirely surrounded by hills. The
width varies from about ten to fifteen miles. At five P.M. we again
entered into the mountains, and waded through several narrow valleys,
containing acacia trees. At six, that is, after twelve hours’ ride,
we encamped. The mountains, called Cab el Kofas, or the Spilling of
the baskets, particularly one about 400 feet high, at the entrance of
this chain, are very picturesque. The effect of a tropical sunset upon
them was magnificent. Their general height was about 200 feet, and
some were of less altitude. Their form was generally a long continuous
chain, with peaks of various forms. I observed some in the distance
totally isolated, and having the appearance of pyramids. We should
not have passed this plain so rapidly but for the common custom of
the Arabs, before mentioned, of urging on their camels by singing:
the effect is very extraordinary; this musical excitement increases
their pace at least one fourth. I often asked the camel drivers to
sing, not only to hasten our progress, but also for the pleasure of
hearing their simple melodies. Some of their best songs possess a
plaintive sweetness that is almost as touching as the most exquisite
European airs. The words are often beautiful, generally simple and
natural, being improvisatory effusions. The following is a very
imperfect specimen. One takes up the song:—“Ah, when shall I
see my family again; the rain has fallen, and made a canal between
me and my home. Oh, shall I never see it more?” The reply to this
and similar verses was always made by the chorus, in words such as
these:—“Oh, what pleasure, what delight, to see my family again;
when I see my father, mother, brothers, sisters, I will hoist a flag
on the head of my camel for joy!” I asked a fine, handsome lad, who
was singing this _ranz des vaches_ of the desert with the feeling of
a Swiss, if he would go with me to England, to my village. He asked
me how long I had been absent; I told him three years. “No,”
said he, “I cannot go with you; if I were to be absent from my
family three years, I should be very unhappy—I should be ill.”
Near the place where we are encamped is another well, now dry.
_Feb._ 21. We set out this morning at seven, and proceeded through
defiles in the mountains, which at eleven we quitted. The valleys we
passed through, for the first four hours, were strewed with quartz,
a common kind of porphyry, and fragments of indurated clay slate,
approaching to rubbarid jasper. The mountains were chiefly of flinty
slate and hornblende. There are a few acacia trees in the valley, and
here and there dried up grass. Among the latter we started a gazelle,
which Mr. B. and I pursued round an isolated hill at the entrance of
a large plain. We could scarcely have lost ourselves, particularly as
I had a compass in my pocket; but, on our rejoining the caravan, the
Habeer warned us not to leave it again, and told us many instances
of Turks and others having been lost by following the gazelles
into the mountains. A Nazr and Katshef perished, very recently,
by their imprudent eagerness in chasing the animals through their
winding valleys. Some time afterwards, a particular search having
been made, they were found dead a considerable distance from the
road, their hands clenched, apparently in the last agonies of that
most horrid of deaths, which is produced by thirst. This creature
might have been fancied our evil genius in the guise of a gazelle,
tempting us to destruction; for, scarcely did we come within sight
of the graceful coquette, than she bounded off, and, after a short
career, stopped again.
····“Lasciva puella:
Et fugit ad salices, et se cupit antè videri.”—_Buc._ iii.
She continued to lead us on in this wanton manner, until we were aware
that we had wandered from the road further than was prudent. At last,
she ran towards some narrow defiles; but we did not allow our ardour
for the chase to carry us further. Although conscious we were in the
direction the caravan must take, we did not see it for some time,
and felt a strange inquietude on finding ourselves alone, destitute,
and helpless, in the midst of this immense desert. I fired my gun,
and, the signal being answered, our uneasiness was relieved. Towards
the end of this chain of hills, about two hours’ journey east of
the direct road, is a place called Absah, where there are traces of
gold mines, and, as at the one at the same distance from the valley of
the dooms, numerous remains of habitations, but apparently not very
ancient. The stones with which they were worked remain, and there
are wells now dry. The Arabs keep them a great secret, and will take
no traveller to visit them, unless he has a particular order from
the Pasha, and is protected by one of their chiefs. M. Bonomi, who
enjoyed these advantages, will, I hope, soon give us an account of
them. The result, I believe, of his investigation was, that they are
now so exhausted, that they would not repay the labour of working. At
eleven we entered a large sandy plain, and at four P.M. we passed some
hills of a pyramidal shape. They are of syenite, and their formation
is similar to the round granite rocks of the First Cataract. They are
called El Talati Greibat—the Three Greibat—from their being at a
distance apparently only three. They extend considerably towards the
east; but some of them are so low as to be nearly covered with the
sand. North-east of these I observed some hills of the same conical
form, called Adaramat; but I was at too great a distance from them to
perceive whether they were of granite. After eleven hours’ ride,
we encamped in the plain at six. The wind is very high; I am almost
afraid of my tent being carried away. For several days I have been on
the look out, thinking it possible that on these light sandy plains
I might see some of Bruce’s pillars of moving sand; but I have
not been favoured with the view of any such _stalking_ prodigy;
and I must declare that, notwithstanding the numerous deserts
I have crossed, at different seasons, always making particular
enquiries on the subject, I have neither seen nor heard of such
as he describes. The wandering Arabs tell the women, children,
and peasants of the Nile fearful stories of the whirlpool of the
desert, and the terrible simoom; but such tales, embellished by an
Oriental imagination, will rarely bear investigation. From what I
have been able to ascertain, there are certain gusts of wind which
occasionally sweep over these deserts, with clouds of sand, which
prevent your distinguishing any object at all distant; but these are
not very dangerous to caravans, except in those tracts where there
are immense hills or accumulations of light sand, such as I have seen
near the Oasis Magna, in the Libyan desert. The custom of caravans,
when they have the misfortune to meet with such blasts, is to pitch
their tents and shelter themselves within them. Whatever may be the
quantity of sand, they are always safe if they can reach the summit,
or place themselves under covert of a hill. I will mention here an
instance of this kind, which, in returning from my first voyage up
the Nile to the Second Cataract, along with Mr. Ponsonby, he and I
witnessed, on the 14th of April, 1832. We were on the point of going
that evening to the Isle of Elephantina, when a violent storm, which,
considering the season, though rather too early, I might almost
call Khampseen, came on. The whole day had been unusually hazy,
the air thick and exceedingly oppressive. The extreme heat of the
thermometer was 86° in the shade; at sunrise, 70°; sunset, 74°:
86° was a few degrees higher than we experienced it several days
previous and after; and I may also remark, that the day following,
the thermometer did not rise above 79°. About five o’clock, an
immense cloud of sand came sweeping along with a wind so violent,
that a boat which was crossing the river to the island was driven
back, and the air became so turbid and impregnated with sand, that
it was impossible to distinguish any object ten yards from the bank
of the river. We heard the peasants in the fields, seemingly wild
with confusion and alarm, calling aloud to each other and for their
children; and when the sand enveloped them from our sight, we still
heard their cries. A scene so strange and impressive I shall never
forget. The gale blew almost directly from the west, and seemed to
be a specimen of those which have successively swept before them
the hills of light loose sand, which, as the Egyptian traveller
will recollect, have completely smothered the cultivated land on
the western bank of the river opposite Assuan. We endeavoured to
shelter ourselves from it as well as the old windows of our cangia
would permit; but the sand penetrated every where, into my bed,
arms, instruments, and linen; and even my watch was affected. I
felt it in my eyes and between my teeth. I then made the reflection,
how awful it would be to encounter such a simoom in the desert. It
was by such a storm that the army of Cambyses is supposed to have
been overwhelmed, as Dr. Darwin in his “Botanic Garden” most
graphically describes it:—
Wave over wave the driving desert swims,
Bursts o’er their heads, inhumes their struggling limbs,
And one great earthly ocean covers all:
Then ceased the storm—Night bow’d his Æthiop brow
To earth, and listen’d to the groans below.
······Awhile the living hill
Heaved with convulsive throes, and all was still.[6]
In mentioning that I have never heard of nor seen these sandy or
meteoric pillars, which is the more remarkable since Bruce says
he observed them day after day, I do not mean to affirm that he
could not have seen that extraordinary phenomenon in this very
desert. That adventurous and intrepid traveller has been already
too much calumniated. I merely state that my own experience, and
the numerous enquiries I have made, lead to the conclusion, that
such phenomena are now unknown: it must, however, be recollected,
that Bruce crossed this desert more in the interior. Those who have
most strongly condemned Bruce for his occasional exaggerations and
embellishments (into which he certainly fell), have forgotten that
few other travellers have ever brought to their country so large a
mass of fresh, interesting, valuable, and correct information. Salt,
his most severe critic, in speaking of his drawings of the ruins of
Axum, asserts that he was no draftsman; yet he contradicts himself
in a variety of other instances, where he confirms the accuracy of
Bruce’s delineations of plants and birds, which are more difficult
to execute than an obelisk without hieroglyphics. Mr. B. is most to
blame for not acknowledging sufficiently the services of his Italian
artist. Many of his tales, marvellous as they at first appeared,
have proved to be correct. There was a time in England, when, if
a traveller mentioned any fact that was contrary to preconceived
ideas, he was accused of error, and often, notwithstanding his
previous character of honour and integrity, of wilful exaggeration,
and even misrepresentation. Now, however, the mass of well-educated
and scientific men have more liberal ideas, and, being anxious for
information, are pleased to see the errors of earlier travellers
corrected, and endeavour, with philosophical discrimination, to
bestow on each the credit which is due to him.
_Feb._ 22. My dromedary was on his knees at seven this morning. The
Arab mounts his camel, by pulling down his head, placing his knee on
its neck, and allowing the animal to raise him on its back. The first
time I attempted to ascend a dromedary in this style, was on my route
from the Oasis Magna; and I paid the penalty of my inexperience. I
had pushed on in advance of my caravan nearly a couple of miles,
when I had occasion to alight to adjust my saddle. Not doubting that
I could mount with true Arab agility, I made the attempt; but deeming
it necessary to spring with the return of the animal’s neck, our
united force pitched me clear over its tail, leaving me sprawling on
the sand,—a lesson to all too aspiring riders. The dromedary ran
back at full speed to the caravan. For eleven hours before reaching
any hills, except a small one called Faroot, we traversed an immense
down, the full extent of which, from the hills called El Talati
Greibat, to the smaller ones called Mogram, could not be less than
forty miles, without any perceptible alteration in its level. It
consists of sand, on which was disseminated a great variety of
quartz fragments, principally of a deep red colour, and from a half
to three inches in length. I observed, also, on the plain, numerous
detached pieces of mica, and some curious specimens of granite. We
passed at six P.M. the small range of mountains called Mogram, which
are of flinty slate; and about two hours afterwards we encamped,
after thirteen hours’ ride, in another plain. To-morrow morning we
expect to arrive at the valley of the Nile. I look forward to that
event with great pleasure. My servants are exhausted by the bodily
fatigue for so many hours each day, the short allowance of water,
the cold at night, sleeping in the open air, and other privations
which they are obliged to submit to; and Signor B. begins to bear
with impatience the want of his soup, the provident regulations of
the desert not permitting our precious water to be employed for that
purpose. For two days the wind has been high, and we have not been
able to use our umbrellas as a protection from the scorching rays
of an almost vertical sun. Our camels, also, have suffered from
the thirteen days’ fatigue. We were obliged to leave one at El
Murrah with the Bishareen, being unable to continue the journey. I
observed, also, this afternoon, that my Ababdes seemed more than
usually tired. Their manner of resting is peculiar. They walk on a
short distance in advance of the caravan, choose a flat part of the
desert, if possible, shaded by a rock, and extend themselves at full
length flat on their backs, stretching out their arms and legs. This
mode of reposing for a few minutes I have found to be very refreshing.
_Arrival at the Nile. Village of Abouhammed.—Feb._ 23. We left
this morning at seven, and reached the banks of the Nile in five
hours. There is no apparent descent from the desert. Our fatigues
and sufferings were all forgotten, and every one seemed to bless
his stars, and think it luxury to quaff again the delicious waters
of this most noble of streams, uncontaminated by the taste of the
geerbah skins, and no longer confined to the scanty allowance of
the caravan. The Ababdes have found here many relations and friends,
and there seems to be no end to salamats and taip eens, to shaking
of hands and embracing. At their request I have consented that the
remainder of the day shall be devoted to repose and festivity. My
servants have killed the fattest sheep they could find; part of
which, and a small backsheesh (present of money), I have given to
the Ababdes to complete their happiness. They are already at work,
drinking the bouza; and I observe that some pretty Berber women with
their jests and charms are increasing their hilarity. We have been
eighty-six hours in this route:—
Miles.
33 hours in the valleys, at 2¾ miles per hour 91¾
53 hours on the plains, which I calculate at 3 miles
per hour 159
----
This agrees very satisfactorily with the known
difference of latitude.[7] (See the Map.) 250
----
CHAPTER III.
ABOU-HAMMED. — FORTIFIED HOUSE OF THE SHEAKH. — ISLAND OF
MOGRAT. — POPULATION. — TAX TO THE PASHA. — TROPICAL RAINS. —
ARAB RAFT. — FORTUNATE ESCAPE. — MANNER IN WHICH THE CAMELS PASS
THE RIVER. — GAGI. — DESCRIPTION OF THE HAREM OF A SHEAKH. —
OFFICE HEREDITARY. — HABITATION OF A SHEAKH. — ETHIOPIAN
FLIES. — DOUM TREES. — ABOU-HASHIM AND OTHER VILLAGES. —
CULTIVATION. — ARAB CIVILITIES. — BERBER SHEEP AND GOATS. —
VILLAGES AND ISLANDS. — ARAB BURIAL-GROUND. — GENERAL CHARACTER
OF THE COUNTRY. — TRACT OF DESERT. — WILD ASSES. — FIFTH
CATARACT. — PRESENT STATE OF NUMEROUS VILLAGES. — ARRIVAL AT
MAKKARIF, CAPITAL OF BERBER.
This part of the valley of the Nile is not very pleasing or fertile,
the eastern bank being almost entirely swallowed by the desert. The
village is called Abou-Hammed; and consists of a few houses, or rather
wretched huts, built of mud and straw. The fortified house of Sheakh
Halif is almost as large as the village itself: since his death it
has not been occupied. It consists of a large quadrangular brick
enclosure, with a circular tower at each corner. In the centre is
a building of one story, in which are the divans and sleeping-room
of the Sheakh. Along the enclosing walls are innumerable little
huts,—the apartments of his wives and concubines, the latter of whom
are said to have at one time amounted to no fewer than sixty. Opposite
to this village is the Island of Mograt, which is principally
remarkable for numerous fine doum trees, profusely scattered upon
it. The Sheakh of this district paid me a visit, and informed me that
it contained, chiefly residing on the island, twenty-five families;
which, he said, probably consisted of 300 individuals. I remarked,
that this was allowing a very great proportion for each family;
but he replied, that one family consists sometimes of forty persons;
a fact only to be accounted for by the polygamic privileges of the
Mahometans. I am told that the district contains forty sakkeas,
which confirms this estimate of the population, as seven or eight
persons may always be reckoned to a wheel. The peasants of the island
informed me that they pay twelve dollars and two ardebs of wheat
as a tax for each sakkea. I searched over the eastern side of this
island for antiquities; but without success, except a small fragment
of a wall of unburnt bricks, apparently Saracenic. I neither found nor
heard of any vestiges of its ancient rulers. The island is very rocky;
I observed some of hornblende slate, and granite, with disseminated
fragments of quartz, and beautiful specimens of Egyptian jasper. The
Sheakh complained of its being rocky and not very fertile: “We toil
hard,” said he, “but earn little:” yet this part of the valley
of the Nile seems very healthy. The malaria which, higher up, after
the time of the inundation, causes so much sickness and mortality,
is here unknown. The tropical rains sometimes extend lower than this
place, but not regularly: for three years rain has been entirely
wanting, and the peasants complain of not having herbage in the
valleys for their camels. I crossed the river to the Island of
Mograt, on a raft or boat of the rudest description,—three logs
of wood lashed together, with sides and square ends constructed
in the same primitive manner. Perceiving that the natives passed
in these safely, I did not hesitate to trust myself upon one. A
peasant, with a clumsily constructed paddle, impelled and guided
the raft; another holding up with one hand part of his dress, as a
protection against the wind, while with the other he was employed
in baling out the water. The servant I had with me was similarly
engaged. Before we entered the raft it was one third full of water,
which was immediately doubled by our additional weight. I did not,
however, allow them to bale out much, as I perceived there was less
danger of our being swamped than upset by the violence of the wind,
and was therefore glad of the water for ballast. I sat at one end,
not uselessly employed; for, as the raft seemed often inclined to
turn over on one side or the other alternately, I kept it balanced by
throwing my weight accordingly. I asked my Charon if they were often
upset? “Yes,” said he, “repeatedly; but we are unembarrassed
with clothes, and can swim to shore;” at the same time eyeing rather
superciliously my wide Turkish trousers, which, had any accident
occurred, would as infallibly have carried me to the bottom as if a
millstone had been tied around my neck. In fact, my worthy friend,
Charon, on his return to the island, after bringing me back, was
upset, and saved his life by his dexterity in swimming. I scarcely
had time to smoke a shibouk, when my servant came running in to give
me this intelligence, and congratulate me on my escape; but as these
Arabs, like crocodiles, swim nearly as easily as they walk, no danger
was apprehended. I observed to-day the curious manner they transport
the camels to the island. The men fill a large geerbah (water-skin),
with air, on which they place themselves, and paddle across, leading
the animals by a cord, and encouraging them to swim by their songs.
_Gagi.—Feb._ 24. We set out this morning at eight, and encamped
at the village of Gagi at five,—nine hours. Here, and in the
island of the same name adjoining, they number fifty men, all
of the Ababde tribe. In the island are six sakkeas, for each of
which they pay to the government fourteen dollars and two ardebs of
wheat. We are encamped, as usual, near the house of the sheakh. I
walked into his harem without ceremony, and chatted with his wives
and female slaves. Some of them were very beautifully formed;
and being almost naked, they displayed finely shaped busts, and,
I may say, almost perfect symmetry of shape; their features very
regular, and their full dark eyes exceedingly expressive. The little
drapery worn by them is adjusted with great taste, and they possess
a natural ease of manner, neither bashful nor yet too forward, which
is very engaging. The slaves were employed in making basket-work,
and the wives reposing on their angareebs. I could not, in Egypt,
have taken the liberty of entering a harem in this manner; but here,
apparently, more freedom is permitted, for they did not seem at all
offended; on the contrary, they gave me as much encouragement as I
could desire. They examined my arms and dress, and were profuse in
their admiration of my beard, and in exclamations, as, “Odjaib,
whallah! wonderful, God is great! but he is a tall man.” The sheakh
was smoking under the shade of some doum trees. He saw me enter,
but had the politeness not to interfere. The title of sheakh was at
one time always hereditary in Upper Egypt; but the Pasha, in most
instances, put an end to this mode of transmission; choosing for that
honour those that had best suited his purposes. In Upper Nubia, he has
respected a little more the existing distinctions. There the office
of sheakh is still in general hereditary: the eldest son succeeds to
the father; and, in default of male issue, the eldest daughter enjoys
the dignity. On account of the number of their wives, it rarely occurs
that they have no son; but I am told there is an instance now, near
Dongolah, of a female sheakh. I have described the fortified house
of a great sheakh: that of one less powerful and wealthy consists,
generally, of two large rooms, a divan and harem, between which is
a pallisaded enclosure, where the flocks are kept. (See Vignette,
p. 1.) The sheakhs offer us every night angoureebs[8] (bedsteads)
made of wood and cords, but we are now so accustomed to sleeping on
the ground that we no longer feel it a hardship. On this evening, and
also that of yesterday, we have been annoyed by swarms of very small
flies, like midges, which draw blood most copiously from our hands,
but without leaving much painful irritation.[9] From Abou-Hammed to
this village our route has always been through the desert, sometimes
300 paces only, but often as much as three miles from the river. The
banks are covered with doums and acacias; the fruit of the former
is very well flavoured, tasting like good gingerbread, but the
rind is very hard, and the little that is eatable is so difficult
to get at, that it is really not worth the trouble. This tree has
rarely, if ever, branches springing up from the root, like the palm
tree. The small round and full yellow flower of the acacias emits a
most delightful odour. The size of these trees is here very great,
compared to those we see in Europe. The first two hours this morning
I noticed porphyry rocks appearing above the sand, and fragments
of the same disseminated; afterwards hornblende rock. Near here the
rocks are of quartz.
_Abou-Hashim.—Feb._ 25. We left Gagi this morning at seven,
and encamped here at half past three P.M.—eight hours and a
half. At half past ten we passed the village of Atmoon, situated
on the opposite side of the river. It is inhabited entirely by
Berbers. There are eleven sakkeas there. I am told that there are
generally seven persons, including children, employed at each. At this
village, and in the Island of Mero opposite, are twenty-three sakkeas,
which pay ten dollars 150 piastres, and four ardebs of dourah each,
equal to 210 piastres. Cailliaud has marked two islands, one Meri,
the other Mero; but there is, in fact, only one, called Mero. The
Island of Kourgos, we slept opposite to last night, extended
until ten A.M. At half past ten we passed an isolated mountain,
three miles on our left. During the greater part of the day we have
passed over sandy flat plains; rocks of coarse granite, hornblende,
and gneiss occasionally appearing above the surface, and fragments
of the same and of quartz being also disseminated. I also remarked
rocks and fragments of sandstone much charged with iron. At twelve
we visited, close to the river, the ruins of a Saracenic castle of
crude, that is, unbaked, bricks. The Arabs, by their description,
had led us to expect antiquities. Our track this day has generally
been a mile and a half distant from the river. (For the bearings,
see the Map.) Shortly before arriving here, we observed fields of
dourah; otherwise the banks of this side of the river are generally
uncultivated, but covered with doum and large acacia trees. The
productive land seems to be in the islands. The inhabitants of this
village are mixed, there being some families of Ababdes, but the
greater number Berbers. We always go to the house of the sheakh,
who meets us with the usual Arab civilities, and gives us his hand,
welcoming us as Mahometans, _Salam Aleycam_, and supplying us with
sheep and milk. Some of these sheakhs have an air and bearing truly
dignified and patriarchal. Their flocks of goats and sheep form
their chief ostensible wealth: the sheep are small, and the wool
worth very little, being so coarse as almost to resemble hair. Their
colour is beautifully variegated, generally white and black, but in
some cases white and brown. The mutton, though too young, is good,
and the goats’ milk the best I ever tasted. We found, near the
river, this morning, numerous shells of the genus Etheria, almost
resembling the Ostrea.[10]
_Feb._ 26. We left Abou-Hashim this morning at seven, and encamped at
five P.M. At half past eleven we passed El Bagahra, and at half past
one Neddi, the former a large, the latter a small, village. We passed
also the small island of Essabeas, where there are four sakkeas;
this island begins at Bagahra, and terminates opposite Neddi. Our
route, all day, has been at a short distance from the river,
over the same kind of downs and plains, covered with the doum and
acacia trees. Near the villages I observed barley and cotton, but no
dourah; the produce of the island, I am informed, is the same. These
villages are entirely inhabited by the Berbers. We have passed
no hills to-day, but I observed continually points of hornblende
slate and coarse granite appearing above the sand. I have also been
surprised to observe to-day, _in the desert_, great numbers of the
same shells. We have passed, during these last three days, several
burying-places of the Arabs. They consist of earthen or sandy mounds,
half a foot high; the length and breadth, of course, depend on the
size of the body. At each end of the mound is a piece of black slate
rock, about a foot high, and along the centre is a narrow gutter,
which is filled with loose little pebbles, and, what is singular,
these are always of the same colour. Sometimes they consist of small
pieces of yellow, and sometimes of white, quartz; and, occasionally,
I observed them of the shells above mentioned. Considerable pains is
evidently taken to choose these stones of exactly the same colour
and description, and also generally of the same dimensions. The
effect is very pleasing. The slabs at each end reminded me of the
simple gravestones in our country churches: the recollection was
interesting; but they could not stand the comparison; for where,
indeed, in the wide world, is there any scene to be compared with
the tranquil beauty of our village churches, diffusing a peaceful
charm over the rural landscape of rich enclosures, snug parsonage,
and baronial demesnes, peculiar to England. Here is but a dreary
wilderness: nature stern and desolate; man nearly in the state of
the savage. In this part of the valley the breadth of the Nile is
generally about one third of a mile; but it varies exceedingly,
being sometimes a whole mile, and occasionally not much above a
quarter. The foliage on its banks renders it not unpleasing to the
eye, particularly as contrasted with the adjoining deserts. The
flatness of the country prevents its being picturesque, except in
some parts, where rocks and little islands in the bed of the river
break the monotony of the landscape. This evening we are encamped,
not, as usual, near a village, but on the banks of the Nile, previous
to passing a small tract of desert.
_Granata.—Feb._ 27. We commenced our sandy route this morning at
half-past six, and my caravan arrived at this village at half-past
six P.M. Mr. B. and myself were only nine hours. Having pushed on our
dromedaries, we crossed the small desert, before the fifth cataract,
in six hours. This desert is sandy, with quartz and flinty slate
disseminated. We saw, for the first time, three wild asses, which
had been browsing among the acacias near the Nile. There are great
numbers of them in the country, but the peasants very seldom succeed
in catching or destroying them. A mixed breed is sometimes seen in
the villages. From the description of the Arabs, I conceive that the
zebra, also, exists in these deserts. The wild ass seems larger than
the common one; but we were at too great a distance to observe them
particularly. The peasants seldom chase them, but with a good horse
it is not very difficult. The reader will recollect the beautiful
and accurate description in Job, chap. xxxix.[11] We arrived at the
fifth cataract at half past twelve, and remained three hours. It is
not to be compared to either the first or second for picturesque
effect. There are here no mountains, or even hills, and the fall,
at a little distance, is scarcely perceptible. The sound is great,
the rapids strong, and of such an extent, that, at this season of the
year, certainly no boat of any size could pass: when the Nile is high
there would be little difficulty. We made two views, looking north and
south, and coloured them on the spot; but the vignette will give the
reader an idea of this cataract of the Nile. Two hours below are the
islands of Kermi, Drogueh, and Melor: almost opposite the cataract
is a village called El Solymanieh. Doums and acacias, as usual,
on the banks of the river. An hour before arriving, we passed the
small village of Gouloulab. This village, where we are encamped,
is very large, and said to contain 300 men. The island of Ertole,
opposite, is represented to have the same population; but this,
I think, is rather an exaggeration of the sheakhs’.
[Illustration: FIFTH CATARACT OF THE NILE.]
_El Makkarif, Capital of the ancient Kingdom, and now Turkish
Province, of Berber.—Feb._ 28. We started this morning at seven,
and at ten passed the large village of El Abadieh, a little below
which, on the opposite side, is Engreyab; at a quarter past twelve,
El Ferrakah, opposite which is Abselam; at half past twelve, El
Dankel; at half past one, El Hassan (vestiges of a Saracenic castle),
opposite which are the villages of Dekseet and Wady Shekeer; at half
past one, the village of El Howe; at half past two, El Gadawab; at
three, we passed a village called Housh, opposite which is Ellet Wady
Gadallah; at a quarter past three, Mahanifa; at half past three, Dich;
and at four entered the capital, Makkarif. Most of these villages
are large, but many almost entirely deserted. In one of 120 houses,
I counted only twenty that were inhabited. This is occasioned, not
only by a decrease of population, but also by the wretched state
of poverty to which the Berbers are now reduced. Many families who
had formerly two, three, and even six houses, are obliged to content
themselves with one, allowing the others to fall into ruin from not
having the means or inducement to repair them. If still possessed of
any wealth, their only means of preserving it, or, at all events,
of transmitting it to their posterity, is to keep it secret; and
by an affectation of poverty, lull any suspicion that may arise of
their possessing treasure. Notwithstanding what I am told of their
hidden wealth, I should suspect the examples to be few: the real
distress is unfortunately far too evident. The houses are scattered,
and often at a considerable distance from each other; never crowded
together, like the cottages in the villages of Egypt. Being shaded
by the graceful doum and acacia trees, they produce a rural and
sometimes picturesque effect. According to the ancient divisions, we
have only been this day in the province of Berber. Since we reached
El Ferrakah, the character of the country has been quite different;
more villages, a richer soil, and even the desert thickly studded
with trees like a shrubbery. The country between Abou-Hammed and
Grenata is included in the Turkish province of Berber, and as such
I have described it. The natives are the Rabatat, once the terror
of caravans. The heavy exactions they imposed on all travellers,
or rather merchants, obliged the latter to take the long route
from Derouey to Makkarif, the same in which Burckhardt and Bruce
suffered so severely. The manners of the Rabatat seemed rougher,
and their depravity more open, than I observe here.
CHAPTER IV.
VISIT TO THE GOVERNOR. — COURT AND ANCIENT CHIEFS OF THE
COUNTRY. — HOSPITABLE RECEPTION. — TURKISH ENTERTAINMENTS. —
CHARACTER OF THE GOVERNOR. — HIS ATTENTIONS. — STYLE OF
LIVING. — DONGOLAH HORSES. — ANECDOTES, COSTUMES AND PORTRAITS
OF THE CHIEFS. — TURKISH KNOWLEDGE OF THE ARTS. — BAZAAR
OF MAKKARIF. — HOUSES. — MANUFACTORY OF INDIGO. — EXTENT
OF CULTIVATION. — POPULATION. — CAMELS’ HIDES. — SUGAR
MANUFACTORY. — ETHIOPIAN WOOL. — BISHAREEN TRIBE. — MANNER OF
COLLECTING THEIR TRIBUTE. — ABABDES AND OTHER ARAB TRIBES. —
TURKISH POLICY. — BURCKHARDT. — CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE. —
ARABS OF THE DESERT.
Immediately on our arrival, we paid a visit to Abbas Bey, the
governor of the province. He has a private house for his harem;
but during the day he holds his court and takes his meals in one of
the fortified houses of the sheakhs. At the door we found a number
of soldiers and officers drinking coffee. The Turkish governor is
obliged to furnish the officers attached to his court, as well as
strangers and principal persons of the town who wish it, with as
much of this beverage as they choose to drink; and so great is the
consumption, that it is in fact the most considerable part of his
official expenditure. We were ushered into a large room, forty feet
by twenty, and proportionably high, with windows at one end, but,
as usual, without glass: some small windows, above the larger, were
covered with paper as a substitute. Around the room was a divan one
foot high and four feet wide: one end was covered with mats, over
which were thrown rich carpets and scarlet plush. The Governor,
a man of about thirty, of a stern yet prepossessing appearance,
was seated in the corner upon the skin of a panther. The courtiers
were arranged on each side according to their respective ranks. On
his right was the grand Cadi, in a brown dress, with a green turban
(the badge of his having made the pilgrimage to Mecca, and being a
sheriff, or descendant of Mahomet). He is a native of this country,
and fills the offices of high priest and chief judge. The Bey paid
him great attention; no doubt on account of his great influence
with the people. He has a very jesuitical countenance: I thought
of Alfieri’s celebrated speech in Saul. Next to this priest was
Sheakh Sayd, the Chief of the Ababdes. (See Plate.) His family
have held this title from time immemorial: the stamp of nobility
is marked upon his high forehead; and there is an expression of
dignified mildness in his countenance which commands respect: he
interested me exceedingly. Another, but inferior, Sheakh of the
Ababdes was seated next to Sheakh Sayd, in a blue linen dress. Next
to the Ababde Sheakh was the Melek Nazr ed Deen. This man was
forty years melek or king of this province. I am informed that the
meleks of Shendy and Metammah attacked his kingdom, defeated him,
seized his riches, and sullied the honour of his family. In revenge,
it is said he fled to the Pasha of Egypt, and represented to him
how easily he might subdue the country. The Arabs, and in this
district particularly, extol in the most hyperbolical terms the
merits of their great men. I will mention their expressions in a few
instances as characteristic. According to their extravagant accounts,
the war-cry of this melek was, “I am a bull, the son of a bull,
and will die or conquer!” They assert that he is able to cut a
camel in two with a blow of his sabre, and to eat a whole sheep to
his breakfast. He really is an amazingly stout man for this country
(see Plate I.), and both his appearance and manners are surly and
repulsive, which, however, is not extraordinary, when we consider
that he is now a disregarded pensioner (having merely the rank and
pay of a katsheff), and no real authority in the extensive province
where, at one time, his will was law. Several other personages were
present, among whom were katsheffs, kaymacans, and artillery officers;
Sheakh Beshir (see Plate II.), now melek of Shendy, and some sheakhs
of the Bishareens. In the centre of the room stood about thirty
attendants; cowhasses, with their silver-headed canes, armed with
pistols and sabres; janissaries in the Albanian dress; mamelukes,
Turkish soldiers, sheboukgees, slaves, &c. &c. The Bey was playing
at drafts with Sheakh Sayd when we entered, but immediately closed
the board, and rose from his seat. He received us very courteously,
ordered us pipes and coffee in abundance, and a fresh supply of the
latter at least every half hour; and, contrary to the Egyptian custom,
there came usually two cups for each person at a time. Their manner
of presenting it is in the highest style of Turkish fashion; holding
the bottom of the fingan (cup) between the first finger and thumb,
with the hand curved. It was presented at the same time to the Bey
and myself; then to the others according to their rank. I presented
to him the firman of the Pasha. He looked at the seal, kissed it,
and applied it to his forehead in token of his obedience; but at
the same time assured me that, on account of my being an Englishman,
even if I had brought no firman, he would have done whatever was in
his power to facilitate my plans. He would not allow us to leave
him without partaking of his evening meal, a short description of
which may amuse the reader.
[Illustration: Pl. 3.
_On stone by J. Hamerton, from a Drawing by L. Bandoni._
_Printed by C. Hullmandel._
MELEK NUSSR ED DEEN.
SHEAKH SAYD CHIEF OF THE ABABDE TRIBE.
_Published by Longman & Co. April 6th. 1835._]
After we had well lathered our hands in the usual Turkish manner,
the round white metal table was brought in, and we all squatted
down on the floor, with due decorum, around it. We had first soup,
and afterwards twenty dishes of meat, one following the other, and
the dinner finished with a pillof of rice. We used wooden spoons for
the soup, diving into the dish promiscuously; the meat we ate with
our fingers, using always the thumb and two forefingers of the right
hand; each person keeping as well as he could to his own angle of the
dish. Holding a piece of bread in his hand, he fished out the pieces
of meat, with a due proportion of gravy. The dishes were all small,
and some of them very _recherchés_; but, as usual, it was mutton,
mutton, nothing but mutton, though disguised in a great variety
of forms, with herbs, beans, and sauces from Cairo. The hands of
the Bey had the precedence in plunging into each dish, and the
paws of the others briskly followed those of their leader. Having
tasted one or two choice morsels, his Excellency nodded his head,
and that plate vanished. A number of hungry attendants who were
to dine upon the remains of the feast, waited in a string, and
handed the dishes back and forward, from one to the other, with the
greatest rapidity. Very little was said during the repast; indeed,
whoever is so foolish as to converse on such an occasion runs
a great hazard of faring indifferently. As it was, I had rather
a scanty supper; for perceiving it was _bon ton_ to eat of every
dish, and not knowing how many might follow, I did not duly profit
by the precious moments. Old Nazr ed Deen, who, as I have stated,
is reported to breakfast with such a voracious appetite, seemed by
no means satisfied, although I observed that he made the best use
of his time. The whole affair was finished in twenty minutes. Some
of the dishes were not one minute on the table. The Bey, with his
fugacious nod, reminded me of the physician at the island, who was
so considerate for Sancho Panza’s digestive powers. I ought not
to omit mentioning, that the Bey, as a special act of politeness to
myself, selected often the most delicate morsels from the best dishes,
with his own besmeared fingers, and placed them before me. I did not
quite relish such a greasy gratification, but was obliged to swallow
the compliment. Several slaves stood around the table with gullahs
of cool water,—the only beverage permitted; others had large fans
to keep away the flies. After we had performed our very necessary
ablutions, smoked a pipe, and taken coffee, the Bey dismissed his
court and attendants, and we had a long _tête-à-tête_ upon various
subjects. Although evidently a brave man, he finds the difficulties
of his situation trying and embarrassing. Having no trusty friend or
confidant near him, he seemed glad of an opportunity of disburdening
his grievances before a stranger, to whom there would be no disgrace
or humiliation in expressing his fears and difficulties. “I have few
or no friends here,” said he, “and many enemies. It is difficult
to satisfy the demands of the Pasha, and not oppress the people. The
Government at Alexandria are never content with the amount of the
revenue; and yet are enraged if any complaints reach them, although
they are the consequence of their own exorbitant demands; _but_
I hope God will give me _good luck_, and enable me to keep my place
to the satisfaction of my master.” We conversed about the province;
his manner of managing the Arabs, with the statistics of the country;
the affairs of the Pasha (to whom he seems very much attached, and
hopes to see him master of St. Petersburgh, or at all events, of the
recent acquisitions of that power from the Ottoman empire); the war
with the Sultan; the conquest of these provinces; his own military
exploits and valour; and the antiquities which are the object of my
journey. Understanding that my artist was an Italian, he displayed
his knowledge of that language, which extended only to two words,
_buono e morte_, by taking hold repeatedly of Mr. B.’s arm, and
at the same time that he repeated these words, he accompanied them
with such a powerful grasp, as almost made poor Signor B. scream
for pain.—“Anima del’ caina (del cane),” he said to me, in
the Neapolitan dialect, “_buono o cattivo_ mi pare che mi vuol
la _morte_.” Afterwards, the conversation turning upon animals,
he showed me the skin of a pet lion, that he had killed because it
had destroyed a sheep. I happened to appear pleased with it, when
he instantly made me accept it. He then sent for a beautiful little
monkey, of the grey capuchin kind, with which he also presented me. I
took it into my special protection, and christened it with the name
uppermost in my thoughts, namely, Meroe; and many a weary mile,
till my return to Thebes, did it beguile me with its mischievous
gambols on my camel. When I rose to take leave, the Bey said he
would accompany me to my tent, and then offered me a fine large
panther’s skin, on which he had been sitting. He did not give me
these, as the Turks in general make presents, with the expectation
of receiving others more valuable; for I told him, on receiving the
first, that I had not contemplated making this journey when I left
Europe, and had therefore nothing with me to offer him. He replied,
“All Turks are not the same; there are good and bad of every
nation: these are trifles; tell me how I can be of real service to
you; and the only return I wish is, that you think well of me when
you go to your own country.” He privately inquired of my dragoman
if we were in want of candles, sugar, coffee, of another tent, or
any thing else. Although we wanted nothing, we duly appreciated his
kind intention. The style in which he came to my tent, and went to
and from his harem every day, will give some idea of the state kept
up in these provincial governments. He was preceded by his guards,
armed with guns; then by four cowhasses, beating their massive
silver-headed sticks on the ground,—a substitute for music: the
Bey himself then followed, on foot or on his charger, having behind
him six other guards, with guns, and a crowd of perhaps twenty
servants. I was at a loss what return to make for his liberality:
he had really shown himself such a fine fellow, that it was painful
to be behind him in generosity. Having no suitable articles to spare,
such as a gun, pistols, or a watch, the most proper gifts to a Turk of
his rank, I could only beg his acceptance of a few trifles,—a new
patent powder-flask and belt, a bag of English shot, a good English
penknife, and a silver watch-guard. I gave him, also, a little stock
of medicines, with directions how to use them; these he valued very
highly, being aware on how slender a thread his life hangs in such
a baneful climate as this.
[Illustration: Pl. 2.
_On stone by W. Walton from a Drawing by L. Bandoni._
_Printed by C. Hullmandel._
SHEAKH BESHER. The present Melek of Shendy.
SON OF A BISHAREEN SHEAKH.
_Published by Longman, Rees & Co. April 6th. 1835._]