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.