Part 59

“The side walls of this ascending gallery rise perpendicularly for twelve feet, and then form a sloping roof of an excessively high pitch, not by a regular angle, but by eight successive projections, each of them six feet in hight, rising above the other, and approaching nearer to the corresponding projection on the opposite side, till the roof is entirely shut in. The hight of this singularly contrived vault may be estimated at sixty feet from the part of the floor immediately beneath. The ascent of the staircase is facilitated by pretty regular but modern footings cut in the floor; and at the top is a small platform, in which is a thick block of granite, resembling an immense chest, imbedded in the solid building, and hollowed out so as to leave alternate projections and retirings, into which are let blocks of the same material, with corresponding grooves and projections, intended forever to conceal and protect the entrance to the principal chamber which is behind them. It must have required immense labor to construct this part of the edifice, and not less to have broken an opening through; so that the zeal of superstition has here been opposed to the eagerness of avarice, and the latter has prevailed. After mining through thirteen feet of solid granite, a door three feet and three inches square, has been discovered, which is the entrance to the principal chamber. This is a long square, sixteen feet by thirty-two, and eighteen in hight. The door is in the angle facing the gallery, corresponding to the door of the queen’s chamber, below. When it is said that the tomb is a single piece of granite, half-polished, and without cement, all that is remarkable in this strange monument, which exhibits such rigid simplicity in the midst of the utmost magnificence of human power, will have been described. The only broken part is an attempt at a search at one of the angles, and two small holes nearly round and breast high. Such is the interior of this immense edifice, in which the work of the hand of man appears to rival the gigantic forms of nature.”

To the above account by the accurate Denon, we subjoin the following pleasing one by the celebrated Dr. Clarke. The impression made by these monuments, when viewed at a distance, can never, he observes, be obliterated from his mind.

“By reflecting the sun’s rays, they appeared as white as snow, and of such surprising magnitude, that nothing we had previously conceived in our imagination had prepared us for the spectacle we beheld. The sight instantly convinced us that no power of description, no delineation, can convey ideas adequate to the effect produced in viewing these stupendous monuments. The formality of their structure is lost in their prodigious magnitude: the mind, elevated by wonder, feels at once the force of an axiom, which, however disputed, experience confirms—that in vastness, whatsoever be its nature, there dwells sublimity!

“Having arrived at the bottom of a sandy slope, leading up to the principal pyramid, a band of Bedouin Arabs, who had assembled to receive us upon our landing, were much amused by the eagerness excited in our whole party, to prove who should first set his foot upon the summit of this artificial mountain. As we drew near its base, the effect of its prodigious magnitude, and the amazement caused in viewing the enormous masses used in its construction, affected every one of us; but it was an impression of awe and fear rather than of pleasure. In the observations of travelers who had recently preceded us, we had heard the pyramids described as huge objects which gave no satisfaction to the spectator, on account of their barbarous shape, and formal appearance: yet to us it appeared hardly possible that persons susceptible of any feeling of sublimity could behold them unmoved. With what amazement did we survey the vast surface that was presented to us, when we arrived at this stupendous monument, which seemed to reach the clouds? Here and there appeared some Arab guides upon the immense masses above us, like so many pigmies, waiting to show the way up to the summit. Now and then we thought we heard voices, and listened; but it was the wind in powerful gusts, sweeping the immense ranges of stone. Already some of our party had begun the ascent, and were pausing at the tremendous depth which they saw below. One of our military companions, after having surmounted the most difficult part of the undertaking, became giddy in consequence of looking down from the elevation he had attained; and being compelled to abandon the project, he hired an Arab to assist him in effecting his descent. The rest of us, more accustomed to the business of climbing hights, with many a halt for respiration, and many an exclamation of wonder, pursued our way toward the summit. The mode of ascent has been frequently described; and yet, from the questions which are often proposed to travelers, it does not appear to be generally understood. The reader may imagine himself to be upon a staircase, every step of which, to a man of middle stature, is nearly breast high; and the breadth of each step is equal to its hight; consequently, the footing is secure; and although a retrospect, in going up, be sometimes fearful to persons unaccustomed to look down from any considerable elevation, yet there is little danger of falling. In some places, indeed, where the stones are decayed, caution may be required; and an Arab guide is always necessary, to avoid a total interruption; but, upon the whole, the means of ascent are such that almost every one may accomplish it. Our progress was impeded by other causes. We carried with us a few instruments; such as our boat-compass, a thermometer, a telescope, &c.: these could not be trusted in the hands of Arabs, and they were liable to be broken every instant. At length we reached the topmost tier, to the great delight and satisfaction of all the party. Here we found a platform, thirty-two feet square, consisting of nine large stones, each of which might weigh about a tun; although they are much inferior in size to some of the stones used in the construction of this pyramid.

“The view from the summit of the pyramid amply fulfilled our expectations; nor do the accounts which have been given of it, as it appears at this season of the year, (in the month of August,) exaggerate the novelty and grandeur of the sight. All the region toward Cairo and the delta resembled a sea covered with innumerable islands. Forests of palm-trees were seen standing in the water; the inundation spreading over the land where they stood, so as to give them an appearance of growing in the flood. To the north, as far as the eye could reach, nothing could be discerned, but a watery surface thus diversified by plantations and by villages. To the south we saw the pyramids of Sakkara; and, upon the east of these, smaller monuments of the same kind, nearer to the Nile. An appearance of ruins might indeed be traced the whole way from the pyramids of Gizeh to those of Sakkara; as if they had been once connected, so as to constitute one vast cemetery. Beyond the pyramids of Sakkara we could perceive the distant mountains of the Said; and upon an eminence near the Libyan side of the Nile appeared a monastery of considerable size. Toward the west and south-west, the eye ranged over the great Libyan desert, extending to the utmost verge of the horizon, without a single object to interrupt the dreary horror of the landscape, except dark floating spots, caused by the shadows of passing clouds upon the sand.

“The stones of the platform upon the top, as well as most of the others used in constructing the decreasing ranges from the base upward, are of soft limestone. Those employed in the construction of the pyramids, are of the same nature as the calcareous rock on which they stand, and which was apparently cut away to form them. Herodotus says, however, that they were brought from the Arabian side of the Nile.

“The French attempted to open the smallest of the three principal pyramids; and having effected a very considerable chasm in one of its sides, have left this mark behind them, as an everlasting testimony of their curiosity and zeal. The landing of our army in Egypt put a stop to their labor. Had it not been for this circumstance, the interior of that mysterious monument would probably be now submitted to the inquiry which has long been an object among literary men.

“Having collected our party upon a soft platform before the entrance of the passage leading to the interior, and lighted a number of tapers, we all descended into the dark mouth of the larger pyramid. The impression made upon every one of us, in viewing the entrance, was this: that no set of men whatever could thus have opened a passage, by uncovering precisely the part of the pyramid where the entrance was concealed, unless they had been previously acquainted with its situation; and for these reasons. First, because its position is almost in the center of one of its planes, instead of being at the base. Secondly, that not a trace appears of those dilapidations which must have been the result of any search for a passage to the interior; such as now distinguish the labors of the French upon the smaller pyramid, which they attempted to open. The persons who undertook the work, actually opened the pyramid in the only point, over all its vast surface, where, from the appearance of the stones inclined to each other above the mouth of the passage, any admission to the interior seems to have been originally intended. So marvelously concealed as this was, are we to credit the legendary story of an Arabian writer, who, discoursing of the wonders of Egypt, attributed the opening of this pyramid to Almamon, a caliph of Babylon, about nine hundred and fifty years since?

“Proceeding down this passage, which may be compared to a chimney about a yard wide, we presently arrived at a very large mass of granite: this seems to have been placed on purpose to choke up the passage; but a way has been made round it, by which we were enabled to ascend into a second channel, sloping, in a contrary direction, toward the mouth of the first. Having ascended along this channel, to the distance of one hundred and ten feet, we came to a horizontal passage, leading to a chamber with an angular roof, in the interior of the pyramid. In this passage we found, upon our right hand, the mysterious well, which has been so often mentioned. Pliny makes the depth of it equal to one hundred and twenty-nine feet; but Greaves, in sounding it with a line, found the plummet rest at the depth of twenty feet.

“We threw down some stones, and observed that they rested at about the depth which Greaves has mentioned; but being at length provided with a stone nearly as large as the mouth of the well, and about fifty pounds in weight, we let this fall, listening attentively to the result from the spot where the other stones rested: we were agreeably surprised by hearing, after a length of time which must have equaled some seconds, a loud and distinct report, seeming to come from a spacious subterraneous apartment, accompanied by a splashing noise, as if the stone had been broken in pieces, and had fallen into a reservoir of water at an amazing depth. Thus does experience always tend to confirm the accounts left us by the ancients; for this exactly answers to the description given by Pliny of this well.

“After once more regaining the passage whence these ducts diverge, we examined the chamber at the end of it, mentioned by all who have described the interior of this building. Its roof is angular; that is to say, it is formed by the inclination of large masses of stone leaning toward each other, like the appearance presented by those masses which are above the entrance to the pyramid. Then quitting the passage altogether, we climbed the slippery and difficult ascent which leads to what is called the principal chamber. The workmanship, from its perfection, and its immense proportions, is truly astonishing. All about the spectator, as he proceeds, is full of majesty, and mystery, and wonder. Presently we entered that ‘glorious roome,’ as it is justly called by Greaves, where, ‘as within some consecrated oratory, art may seem to have contended with nature.’ It stands ‘in the very heart and center of the pyramid, equidistant from all its sides, and almost in the midst between the basis and the top. The floor, the sides, the roof of it, are all made of vast and exquisite tables of Thebaick marble.’ So nicely are these masses fitted to each other upon the sides of the chamber, that, having no cement between them, it is really impossible to force the blade of a knife within the joints. This has been often related before; but we actually tried the experiment, and found it to be true. There are only six ranges of stone from the floor to the roof, which is twenty feet high; and the length of the chamber is about twelve yards. It is also about six yards wide. The roof or ceiling consists of only nine pieces, of stupendous size and length, traversing the room from side to side, and lying, like enormous beams, across the top.”

Mr. Salt, the traveler, having paid a later visit to the principal pyramid, in company with a British officer, ascertained that the short descending passage at its entrance, which afterward ascends to the two chambers, is continued in a straight line through the base of the pyramid into the rock on which it stands. This new passage, a view of which is given in the cut below, after joining what was formerly called the well, is continued forward in a horizontal line, and terminates in a well, ten feet in depth, exactly beneath the apex of the pyramid, and at the depth of one hundred feet beneath its base. Mr. Salt’s companion likewise discovered an apartment immediately above the king’s chamber, exactly of the same size, and of the same fine workmanship, but only four feet in hight.

[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO ONE OF THE PYRAMIDS OF GIZEH.]

The base of the pyramid of Cephrenes, the next in magnitude, of the pyramids of Gizeh, to that of Cheops, is estimated at six hundred and fifty-five feet, and its hight at three hundred and ninety-eight. The pyramid of Mycerinus has a base of two hundred and eighty feet, and an elevation of one hundred and sixty-two. But, as well suggested by Thompson, in his “Egypt Past and Present,” no mere detail of figures and statistics, can convey an idea of the size of these vast bodies as they impress us when we stand before them. “No idea,” he says, “can be given of the great pyramid, by the statement that it covers an area of nearly five hundred and fifty thousand square feet, measures seven hundred and fifty feet upon each of its four sides at the base, and is four hundred and sixty feet in hight, or that it would fill the whole length of Washington square in New York, and exceed its breadth by half, and would rise nearly two hundred feet higher than the spire of Trinity church. The mass of masonry is what impresses you. Eighty-five million cubic feet of solid masonry, gives you no very definite idea of the mass of stone here piled together with such mathematical precision that astronomical calculations could be based upon its angles and shadows. No, you must see the mass itself, not now smooth and polished, as when originally completed, but stripped of its outer casing, and showing tier on tier of huge stones squared and fitted at mathematical angles, and now forming a series of rude steps, each from two to four feet high, extending to the very top. That top is now a platform about thirty feet square; and the view from its elevation is unparalleled in the world! Before you is Cairo, with its lofty minarets, and its overhanging citadel, the mountains of Mokuttam skirting its rear; the green valley of the Nile is spread out for miles northward and southward; at your feet are the mounds of sand that cover the ancient Memphis; southward is the whole range of pyramids to Sakkara; behind you are fragments of other pyramids, the Libyan mountains, and the wide waste of the great desert. But the present is lost in the associations of the past. You are standing upon a monument that is known to have stood within a score of four thousand years; that was as old as are our associations of Plymouth rock, when Abraham came into Egypt, and journeyed to Memphis to enjoy the favor of the king. He looked with wondering eyes upon this self-same monument, and heard the _then_ dim tradition of the tyrant, who, having built it for his own sepulcher by the sweat and blood of half a million of his subjects, was compelled to beg of his friends to bury him privately in some secret place, lest after his death, his body should be dragged by the people from the hated tomb!”

The pyramids of Sakkara, which are numerous, are interesting on account of the peculiarities of their structure. The largest of them is of an irregular form, the line of the terminating angle being sloped like a buttress reversed. Another, of a middling size, is composed of stages rising one above another. The smaller ones are greatly decayed; but the whole occupy an extent of two leagues. This multitude of pyramids scattered over the district of Sakkara, Denon observes, prove that this territory was the necropolis (city of the dead) to the south of Memphis, and that the village opposite to this, in which the pyramids of Gizeh are situated, was another necropolis, which formed the northern extremity of Memphis. The extent of that ancient city may thus be measured.

To these interesting accounts of this group of the pyramids, may be subjoined the graphic sketch of Bayard Taylor, who visited them so recently as 1851. “When we threw open the latticed blinds of our cabin, before sunrise the next morning, the extraordinary purity of the air gave rise to an amusing optical delusion on the part of my friend. ‘See that wall!’ said he, pointing to a space between two white houses; ‘what a brilliant color it is painted, and how those palms and these white houses are relieved against it!’ He was obliged to look twice before he perceived that what he had taken for a wall close at hand, was really the sky, and rested upon a far-off horizon. Our donkeys were in readiness on the bank, and taking Achmet with us, we rode off gayly among the mud hovels and under the date-trees of Gizeh, on our way to the pyramids. The rising sun shone redly upon them, as we rode out on the broad harvest land of the Nile. The black unctuous loam was still too moist from the inundation to be plowed, except in spots, here and there, but even where the water had scarce evaporated, millions of germs were pushing their slender blades up to the sunshine. In that prolific soil, the growth of grain is visible from day to day. The Fellahs were at work on all sides, preparing for planting, and the ungainly buffaloes drew their long plows slowly through the soil. Where freshly turned, the earth had a rich, soft luster, like dark-brown velvet, beside which the fields of young wheat, beans and lentils, glittered with the most brilliant green. The larks sang in the air and flocks of white pigeons clustered like blossoms on the tops of the sycamores. There, in November, it was the freshest and most animating picture of spring. The direct road to the pyramids was impassable, on account of the water, and we rode along the top of a dike, intersected by canals, to the edge of the Libyan desert, a distance of nearly ten miles. The ruptures in the dike obliged us occasionally to dismount, and at the last canal, which cuts off the advancing sands from the bounteous plain on the other side, our donkeys were made to swim, while we were carried across on the shoulders of two naked Arabs. They had run out in advance to meet us, hailing us with many English and French phrases, while half a dozen boys, with earthen bottles which they had just filled from the slimy canal, crowded after them, insisting, in very good English, that we should drink at once and take them with us to the pyramids.

“Our donkeys’ hoofs now sank deep in the Libyan sands, and we looked up to the great stone-piles of Cheops, Cephrenes and Mycerinus, not more than half a mile distant. Our sunrise view of the pyramids on leaving Gizeh, was sufficient, had I gone no further; and I approached them, without the violent emotion which sentimental travelers experience, but with a quiet feeling of the most perfect satisfaction. The form of the pyramid is so simple and complete, that nothing is left to the imagination. Those vast, yellowish-gray masses, whose feet are wrapped in the silent sand, and whose tops lean against the serene blue heaven, enter the mind and remain in the memory with no shock of surprise, no stir of unexpected admiration. The impression they give and leave, is calm, grand and enduring as themselves.