A Ride in Egypt from Sioot to Luxor, in 1879, with notes on the present state and ancient history of the Nile Valley, etc

Front matter

A RIDE IN EGYPT. LONDON, MACMILLAK & C A RIDE IN EGYPT FROM SIOOT TO LUXOR IN 1879: WITH NOTES ON THE PRESENT STATE AND ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE NILE VALLEY, AND SOME ACCOUNT OF THE VARIOUS WAYS OF MAKING THE VOYAGE OUT AND HOME. BY W. J. LOFTIE, B.A., F.S.A., AUTHOR OF " IN AND OUT <ft : loNDON," "A PLEA FOR ART IN THE HOUSE," &C.f &C. JTonbou : MACMILLAN AND CO. 1879. The Right of Translation and Reproduction is Reserved. ETNA FROM CATANIA.

Preface

. In the following sketches an attempt is made to give some account of the present aspect of Egypt. They are the result of three visits to the Nile valley, comprising in all about fifteen months' residence. It may be matter of surprise that another writer should venture to publish a book about Egypt. But I find two excuses both so good that the hesitation naturally felt at first thought is much dimin ished. The recent progress of events under the viceregal government, and especially the terrible famine of the past winter, have excited a new interest among English readers, who want to have Preface. VIII the latest particulars of the state of the country. And, moreover, while the history of Egypt seems to have been growing with such rapidity at the present day, that is, the latter end, the researches and dis coveries of the past few years have added so much to our knowledge of the other, the further end, that books published even three years ago are already behind the times.

I have endeavoured as much as possible to avoid details which have already appeared in English books : and have confined my historical chapters as much as I could to the times of the Early Monarchy, that remote and mysterious kingdom, of which thc date is unknown, but which is so vividly before us in the monuments left us of its architecture, portraiture, and literature. About Rameses and his dynasty I have said as little as possible consistently with my desire to give some account of This and Thebes. Of the later times, down to the present dynasty, I have said nothing. Indeed, I was minded when my book first began to take shape, to call it " Egypt, Ancient and Modern," for such a title would have clearly described its contents. I have used as it was convenient the substance and sometimes the actual words of various articles Preface. x contributed during the past four years tu the Suluniny Kgt/ieap and other periodicals.

I have tu thank the editors for leave to use them, and have many acknowledgments to make to friends who have helped me with sketches, with information, and with criticism. I am particularly indebted to Miss Evans and Mr George Grahame the artists, to my American friend; E. W. L. and Mrs. L., and to M. L. M. their comrade on the Nile voyage, for charming little bits of scenery. I have availed myself to the utmost of Mr. Roland Michell's stores of knowledge respecting the present condftioji of Egypt. From Mr. Greville Chester I have also received information of which he was in many cases the exclusive repository, but which i as ungrudgingly given as it is here gratefully acknowledged. On my second voyage out I remained somtvveel - at Malta, and then made an abortive attempt to see Naples again, after an interval of nearly thirty years.

I have thought it better to include my notes of these wanderings in the Mediterranean; as some parts of them at least will answer to the yearly experience of travellers who winter in Egypt. Preface. X Although since this book was written and, indeed, partly printed, the reign of Ismail Pasha has come to an end in the country he so terribly oppressed — I have not thought it necessary to alter any of the passages in which I refer to him and his acts. It is well to show to what a condition he had reduced his unhappy country as a justification of the extreme measures just taken against a prince for whom, not twenty months ago, the English press and English public had very little but praise. It is well, also, that we should remember, lest disappointment come upon us, that Mohammed Towfik Pasha is a Turk and his father's son : that what has happened may happen again : and that, above all, though I write it with re gret and hesitation, an Anglo-French alliance where an unselfish and benevolent policy towards an oppressed people is what most of us desire to see, must end in failure. W. J. L. APE*S HILL. CONTENTS.

Chapter I

On the Voyage. The P. and O. — The Bay — The Company — Gibraltar — An Orange Tree — The Sieges — The Signal Station — Approaching Malta — The Fear of Quarantine — What Quarantine is — Gozo and Malta from the Sea — Valetta — Pratique — The Government — The Palace — A Debate in Parliament — The Old Nobility — The Dome of Mosta — How not to get from Malta to Naples — A Night between Scylla and Charybdis Pages I — 59

Chapter II

The Prophet on the Platform. From Malta to Suez — Backsheesh — The Railway Station — The Dervish — A Testimony — Cairo — The Rule of the Turk — Palaces — Oppression — Difficulty of telling the Truth . . Pages 60 — Contents. XII

Chapter III

The Fellah. Heliopolis— The Delta— The Peasant Cultivator— Towfik Pasha— The Obelisk— The Inscription— Other Obelisks . . Pages 84—108

Chapter IV

Dervishes. The Coptic and Muslim Calendars — The Egyptian Saints' Days — The Dervish is not a Monk — The Colours of Turbans — The Descendants of Mohammed — The Pilgrims' Return — The Mahmal — The Doseh. Pages 109 — 124

Chapter V

The Boolak Museum. The Peculiarity of the Collection — M. Mariette's Researches — The most Ancient Art in the World — Enumeration of the Chief Examples of the Early Period — Conclusions as to Life and Manners under the Ancient Kings — A Discourse of Scarabs. Pages 125—147

Chapter VI

The Pyramids and the Sphinx. How English Tourists see the Pyramids — The Great Time-passage Theory — The True History of Pyramids — A List of Pyramids from the Papyri — Their Identification — Pyramids now remaining — Their Comparative Heights — The Riddle of the Sphinx unsolved —The Question of the Tablet— Its Want of Authority— The Use of the Sphinx in Hieroglyphs — The Table of Thothmes — Description from Charlotte Bronte — An Irreverent Sightseer. Pages 148—169 Contents. XIII

Chapter VII

Babylon. The Chains of Egypt— Nicopolis, the Roman Camp at Ramleh — Turkish Demolitions — El Kab — Dakkeh — Kasr e' Shemma— The Churches — The Walls — Comparison with the Walls of London. Pages 170 — 1 Si

Chapter VIII

Education in Egypt. An Abortive Scheme — Government Schools — Missions — The University of the East — College Life in Cairo — Ordinary Schools in Cairo — In Country Villages — Blind Guides — Coptic Schools — Towfik's Schools for Girls Pages 182 — 194

Chapter IX

The Journey to Sioot. The Steamer — Bedreshayn— A Difficulty — An English Beauty — An Egyptian Beauty — Corkscrews — The Children at the Stations — Maydoom — A Thirsty Journey — Beni Hassan . Pages 195 — 221

Chapter X

Sioot. The Town — The Mountain — The Tombs — The Caravan Started — The Arabs— The Copts— Our First Camping Place . Pages 222—234 Contents. XIV chapter xi. The Greek Shop at Soohag. Tahta— Anteeka-hunting — A Disappointment— Luncheon — Benhow — Sunset — A Ride in the Dark — A Forced March — Dangers — The Scot Abroad — The Country Disturbed — Soohag — Another Disappointment . . Pages 235 — 250

Chapter XII

The Donkeys. Importunate Beggars — St. Christopher — The Character of William Rufus — The other Donkeys — Arab Towns and Villages — Girgeh. Pogfs 251—263 CHAPTER XIIJ. The Ancient This. An excited Antiquary — Egyptian Chronology — Ar3bat-el-Madfooneh — The Temples — The Sacred Windhover — Edfoo — The Table of Abydos — Casabianca — A Hill of Tombs— An Old Brick Fort. Pages 264 — 2S7

Chapter XIV

Thl Table of Abood. French Antiquaries — A long Delay— A Messenger— A long Walk Kumouis of die Famine Pages 28S Contents. XV CHAPTER xv. The Famine. The Morning Scene — A Starving Family — A Deserted Child — How — Shocking Sights in the Market-place — How to acquire an Estate — How to Buy and Sell Land — The Assessment of the Taxes — The Famine easily Prevented — Mr. Rivers Wilson — Semaineh — Marashteh — A Young Gentleman — A Deserted Village — A Dinner Party — Good Manners Pages 294 — 307

Chapter XVI

Dendera. The Desert — A Prize — Dendera — The Ferry — Camping Ground at Keneh— The Cook's Estate— The Inevitable Potentate. Pages 308 — 320

Chapter XVII

Gypt. Keneh — Coptos — Copts — "Backsheesh Keteer" — The Ruins of Gypt — The Name of Egypt — A Lecture — Goos — Early to Bed — A Rembrandtesque Effect Pages 321—329

Chapter XVIII

Amen. Shenhoor— A Martyr's Grave— A Mirage — A Sandstorm — The View of Karnac— The Dedication of the Temple— Amen, Lord of Poont— Hymn to Amen-Ra — Karnac, a Christian Church — The Obelisks of Hatasoo— The Ride ended . . . Pages 330—342 Contents. XVI

Chapter XIX

Luxor. Dwelling in Tents — Native Society — Poets — Music — An Arabian Night — The Remains of the 18th and 19th Dynasties — Bulls' Eyes — A Fright at Dinner — Hiring a Boat — Death at the Hotel — A Funeral — The Copt Church — The Cemetery .... Pages 343 — 354

Chapter XX

Floating Down. The Voyage to Sioot — The Famine District Again — Belianeh— A Hospitable Sheykh— A Concert— Sioot . . . Pages 355—362

Appendix

Pages 363— 391 INDEX Pages 393—399 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE The Oldest Statues Frontispiece. Etna from Catania v Ape's Hill ix Cape St. Vincent i Coast of Algiers 24 Mosta 59 " Backsheesh ! " 60 A Window in Cairo 83 Obelisk in Cairo 84 Fellah Women List of Illustrations. XVIII PAGE Cave on the Mokattem : the "Road to Suez" . . . 108 Tombs of the Sultans '°9 Mosque of Sultan Hassan 124 Entrance of the Great Pyramid 125 Pavilion of a Mosque 147 Dashoor 148 The Sphynx 169 The last of Nicopolis 170 Alexandria from Ramleh 181 El Azhar 182 Dashoor 194 Rock-cut Tomb at Beni Hassan 195 The Oldest Picture in the World 209 The Causeway 222 A Ferry Boat 234 A Straw Boat 235 The Nile at Soohag 251 Three Little Arabs 288 "Basking" List of Illustrations. XIX PAGE The Pyramids from the Mokattem 308 Pylon of Nectanebo 33° Thebes from Karnac 342 A Nile Village 343 The Reis 354 Tent Life at Luxor 355 The Sheykh ... 361 Athor at Silsilis CAPE ST. VINCENT. A Ride in Egypt.

Chapter I. On The Voyage

The P. and O. — The Bay — The Company— Gibraltar— An Orange Tree — The Sieges — The Signal Station — Approaching Malta — The Fear of Quarantine — What Quarantine is — Gozo and Malta from the Sea — Valetta — Pratique — The Government — The Palace — A Debate in Parliament — The Old Nobility — The Dome of Mosta — How not to get from Malta to Naples— A Night between Scylla and Charybdis. It is quite impossible to winter out of London — so one thinks rebelliously, when the doctor's doom has been pronounced. But there is no appeal — go you v, [Ch. l must. When you have gone, when you have tasted of the pleasures of a climate in which the air is not damp, in which the sun is warm at Christmas, in which you are strong and happy, able to breathe and see, able to go about, to work and play, to learn and teach, to take long walks and join pic-nics, all at a season in which you would at home be confined to one room, artificially heated and lighted : even the charms ofthe village of St. Marylebone, near London, cease to prey upon your memory.

Another thing which mitigates the terror of winter ing abroad is to find that people at home get on very well without you. There are of course two sides to this aspect ofthe subject. It is a little mortifying to observe that the charitable or the learned society which, as you thought, you were carrying on by your own strivings with recalcitrant committees, and which was prospering solely through your constant tact and management, prospers even more swimmingly when you are away. It is not altogether pleasant to hear when you are abroad that one who, &c, is able to enjoy an evening party or a run through the old Masters at the Grosvenor, just as well with that silly fellow Blank, who fortunately for him possesses the art of making her laugh, as she ever did with you. But after a time even these memories lose their poig nancy, and you reflect, perhaps wisely, that to breathe her name you must retain the use of your lungs, and that rheumatism will give you worse beatings of the To Egypt.

Ch. I.] 3 heart than she can ever cause, be she never so beautiful or so cruel. But apart from the question of health, I confess the prospect of spending four or five months in Egypt had no charms for me. True, I had read half a dozen books about that ancient land, and, like everybody else, had my own theory of the Exodus. I knew that some pre-Adamite kings had heaped up cairns at a place called Gheezeh, and that little boys in the streets of Cairo were but scantily clad, and had eyes full of flies. I was also acquainted with the use of the word backsheesh, and had so far progressed in Oriental languages that I knew it came, like khedive, from the Persian, and that both words were looked upon as disagreeable by people who love Egypt. Hieroglyphs, too, like all the things " which no fellow can under stand," had a certain fascination for me, but I was not competent to distinguish between a determinative and a cartouche.

Under these circumstances, it was with no lively feelings that on a miserable morning in November, 1876, I commenced my first journey to Egypt — a journey repeated every winter since. I drove to Waterloo Station as the sun was going through what must be called, for want of a fitter term, sunrise. It only consisted, on this sad morning, in making more visible the dinginess of closed shop fronts and deserted streets, followed by a rapid re tirement as the regular midday darkness set in. I B [Ch r. loved the fog : would that it had loved me in return. What are the golden sands of Libya, or the crimson peaks of Cush, to one who knows the mud of Regent Street and the ruddy vapours of Hyde Park ? It does not take many hours to reach Southampton ; and the journey, once we were in the open country, was not exactly unpleasant.

I was rather curious to make my first acquaintance with actual life on board a great mail steamer. The French say, with some truth, that Englishmen can express about half their ideas by the use of two words — namely, "fast" and "board." To be on board a fast mail steamer is an experience very common with Englishmen ; but the actual feelings of those who travel in this way must vary in every case, not only according to a man's mind, but accord ing to his stomach. To be lodged with some hun dreds of people in a great floating hotel, cut off from all the disagreeable excitements of civilised life, the postman's knock, the afternoon visitor, the telegram — to be face to face with nature in one of its grandest aspects, as we are constantly reminded by the senti mental portion of our fellow-travellers — is to see life, it might be thought, under very favourable conditions.

But the reality is not so sweet. As we float down the Solent on a calm sea, a lovely view of the Isle of Wight in front, the sun setting behind the trees of the New Forest, and nothing to disturb the peaceful beauty of the scene but the long and hideous redness of Netley The P. and O. Ch. I.] 5 Hospital and the sound ofthe dinner-bell, we are likely to anticipate more enjoyment than will really fall to our share. The first interruption to our dream of happiness is probably caused by seeing the visitors leave by the. little Southampton steamer. Husbands parting from wives, parents from children, lovers from lovers, are an interesting sight, -but one which we do not care to see twice. The comic aspects are so mixed up with the tragic, the kisses with the tears, that the indifferent looker-on is doubtful whether to laugh or cry.

Here is a man coming on board in a state of semi-intoxication, not drunk enough to be happy, and evidently struggling with the imperfect recollection of some secret which he wishes to impart before he and his friend are finally separated ; ora father and mother bidding their son farewell with the look of being heartily glad to get rid of a prodigal, and the young man weeping while even the mother's eyes are dry. There may be a trace of repentance in his face, and he has probably found life at home too pleasant to be willingly given up. A bride with floods of tears, a red nose, and redder eyes, parts from her sisters with frantic embraces, her husband looking on helplessly and but half pleased. But a great rush of steam, a groan and a fizzle combined, and we are off"; the little steamer disappears in a cloud of waving handker chiefs, and those of us who have suffered no bereave ment are at leisure to observe with disappointment that the prettiest face has departed, and that the ladies who remain have almost all the appearance of suffering from colds in thc head.

Such are my first impressions. Presently I begin to take stock of my surroundings. The sleeping-cabin is very small for four. My large portmanteau can only be crushed under the sofa, and a surgical operation may be needful for its extraction. The washing appliances seem very deficient. The bed is very hard, and as narrow as a coffin. It suddenly dawns on my memory that a favourite cigar-.case is at the bottom of the box under thc bed, and my mind is disturbed by the thought that, of the companions of my cabin, one is sure to be sick, and at least one to snore. Before rough water is'reached the dinner-bell rings, and there is a contest, not altogether good-tempered, as to a seat near the captain. By degrees, however, settlements take place ; those who cannot get near the captain endeavour to sit opposite a pretty face, or near the door, or where there is a chair, and so on, until everybody is satisfied, or. at least, seated.

But dinner is not a success. A pallor attacks my next neighbour's countenance. In the middle of my best anecdote he smiles at me vacantly for a moment, then hardly pausing to mutter an excuse, he rises, and dis appears to return no more. One by one, about half the guests at table leave it before the conclusion of the banquet, and the survivor feels a sense of personal injury when ominous sounds, as of a human being in The Bay. Ch. I.] 7 distress, reach him from the neighbouring cabin. Perhaps his turn follows, perhaps he escapes ; but, next to being ill yourself, it is worst to witness the sufferings of others, even if sympathy has no place among your moral qualities ; and your first evening at sea closes in gloom. My own sufferings at sea have always been slight, but the motion of the ship causes qualms.

For the first two days I have a seeling of being subjected to indignity as the rolling rudely shakes me from my seat, or takes my feet from under me. There is something humiliating in running down the deck and staggering up again as if you were very drunk indeed. Of this first voyage my chief recollection is that we had a gale in the Bay of Biscay. I had long wished to see the great waves of which I had heard so much, but it is a question whether it is worth going through a gale to see them. In other respects, for I must not attempt to describe great waves, one voyage is much like another. As the days pass, and calmer latitudes are reached, the whole company of passengers meet again, and various phases of sea-going character present them selves. Some pace the deck in solitary meditation. Some seat themselves in a shady corner and observe what goes on around them with sleepy eyes.

The ladies lie back on the chairs with which the quarter deck is crowded, and make oft-repeated remarks on the sea and sky. A smoking-tent has been rigged up, and there the men assemble to talk as they take tobacco, and give their opinions to the little world on things in general. It is there that the universal traveller holds forth, he who has surveyed the world from China to Peru, and who has apparently brought back only a knowledge of the iniquity of the British Government, the discomfort of foreign hotels, the loss of money by exchange, and the comparative venom of different breeds of mosquitoes. You ask him if he has been in Ceylon, or Norway, as the case may be, and he tells you of the price of wine at Colombo, or the bad tea they gave him at Christiana ; or you ask him about the latest revolution among the South American States, and he replies with the remark that all Portuguese settlers are rascals, and proves it by an account of how a Spaniard cheated him about a horse.

If you inquire as to the customs of the Dyaks of Borneo, he begins a series of criticisms on the steam boat arrangements of Rajah Brooke. To him tra velling in itself is an end. He does not boast of the lands and cities he has " done," but talks as if doing them had been an unmitigated annoyance to him. He complains of the world because it is too easily exhausted, and laments that there are so few regions left to be traversed. He can tell you nothing about any place he has visited, except how to get there and how to get away again, and if you devote an evening to cross-examining him in the hope of obtaining some information, you are continually disappointed, and find in the end that you have lost the time you mio-ht The Company. Ch. I.] 9 have much more profitably devoted to reading a geography book.

Beside him is a gentleman whose brogue, coupled with his irregular use of will and shall, betrays his origin, who informs you in five minutes of all the particulars you care to hear of his birth, parentage, and education, of his relationship to Lord So-and-so, and the name of his wife's first husband. He allows to having been born in Dublin, but vows he never set foot in it since. If in return you think to shame him by saying that you also are an Irishman, he only tries to startle you by confessing that he was convicted of Fenianism, and soothes you again by an interminable anecdote, told to show you that he was or is a man of property, and that in a hand-to-hand fight he can lick all before him. He knows every celebrated author in the three kingdoms, despises most of them, and wonders how any one can read their works, for he cannot.

It is indeed soon evident that in the last particular he tells the truth. How far his other stories are to be believed you cannot easily decide. On the whole, however, he is a more agreeable companion than the argumentative voyager, a man who always takes the other side, whatever may be your view, who invariably breaks down in the main point of his argument, and seldom fails to forget before he has done which was the side he originally undertook to support. Then there is the serious traveller, who makes it a business to go abroad, who would not visit any countiy without an object, who sighs deeply as he tells you he has to get to Japan before the middle of January as it is his duty, evidently a painful one, to investigate the history and practice of Go Bang in its native country. You cannot play chess with him because he knows every gambit and opening, and tells you when you have made three moves that he must checkmate you in twenty-one or twenty-two more as the case may be.

He has also made whist a special study, and informs you that when he lived in India he hired a pundit at so much a month to play double dummy with him. This man of serious purpose, who takes his plea sure moult tristement, contrasts in my recollections with the young lady who travels for no earthly purpose or reason, who does not know whence she is coming or where she expects to go : who begins the Last Days of Pompeii on the first day of the voyage, and is well into the second chapter by the time she lands, under the impression that she will be able to get up the Bay of Naples from its pages, and so combine amusement with instruction. As a rule, however, she does not read much, nor, though she looks constantly at the sea, does she seem to see much. She admires the coast of Portugal, thinks Cintra very romantic, has never heard of the Convention, and forgets whether it is Madrid or Lisbon which lies at the mouth of the Tagus.

On The Company. Ch. I.] 11 the whole, unless that wistful gaze over the taffrail betokens a pre-occupation which betrays itself on calm days in excessive letter-writing, she affords entertaining company to the traveller, and his mind is not much wearied in any effort to direct the course of a conversation with her. I have always found children on board a great resource, and am at times tempted in consequence to imagine myself very amiable. Perhaps I am, but they certainly amuse me better than their elders, and keep up a constant excitement in my mind, as I am always expecting one of them to fall overboard. Perhaps the young soldiers going to fight the battles of their country come next in interest. The children are scarcely so simple as the officers : for they lay little plots to capture a good-natured passenger, lie in ambush for him in the companion, ruin his repeater by constant striking, and break his back by making a horse of him from morning to night.

The young heroes are less troublesome, but less pleasing. They smoke in cessantly, perhaps in the vain hope of colouring their scanty moustaches. They talk of their regiment though they have never seen it, and are curious in boot-jacks and cigarettes. They go to their destina tion with a feeling that they may have to bleed in their country's cause, which helps to ennoble them. In moments of fancied seclusion — there is no real seclusion on board-— a photograph book is brought out from the recesses of a portmanteau, and when the boy's eyes are raised from his mother's or his sister's likeness they are full of tears. He need not feel ashamed of them though he wipes them away so fast. It is to such young Englishmen that England may have to look in time of need. Such are the minor accessories of life on every voyage.

I remember that on this voyage in par ticular, two brown gentlemen who had been aides-de camp to the Prince of Wales during his Indian tour were returning home. One of them was a Mahom metan : the other a Hindoo. They used to play a good deal of chess, and were much admired for their personal beauty and gorgeous costumes. They studied a complete letter-writer with great assiduity, and brightened up very much when addressed in Hindostanee. We had also opportunities for studying the natural history of the ship's stokers. They are indeed a strange race, much blacker than anybody can paint them — so black indeed that the coal-dust looks like pearl powder on their faces. They sit, when not at work, on the gratings near the funnel, and twang the light banjo or sew long seams in grey shirtings. There are many other blacks of various degrees of darkness and obscurity, physical or social, on board> and I was much startled in the grey dawn of the second morning to find one of them standing over my lowly pillow with a drawn razor in his hand.

The Company. Ch. I.] 13 He had been told, it seems, that I wanted a shave, and so I rose when I had sufficiently composed my countenance, and putting on a dressing-gown followed him to a big box near a porthole, where he set me up like a model, and standing afar off at each lurch of the vessel — for it was blowing a gale — made a lunge at me, after a very moderate exhibition of soap. Strange to say when my presence of mind returned sufficiently to enable me to refuse any further assaults of the kind, I found myself extremely well shaved and perfectly smooth, my features no more chiselled than when they were turned out originally by mother nature. The noise on board is incessant. First, there is the throbbing of the engines. The beating of my own rheumatic heart is nothing to them. Then there are innumerable chains which are dragged through holes, the holes all seeming to be just under my pillow.