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After hiring three donkeys to take us to the Pyramids next morning at eight o'clock, we retired to rest and slept much better than we did the night before; the live stock were not quite so numerous as they were in the last hotel. We were up bright and early, had breakfast at seven o'clock, after which we mounted our donkeys and were soon outside Cairo, an old town on the banks of the Nile, founded upon the site of the old Egyptian Babylon; it is much older than Grand Cairo. Here are the ruins of the old Roman fortress, besieged and taken by the Turks. The solid walls and high towers are yet standing, on the front of which may still be seen the Roman eagle. This fortress has now become a Christian town and is dedicated to St. George, the patron saint of the Copts. There are also three convents here, one is occupied by the Roman, Armenian, and Syrian Maronites, another by the Copts, a third by the Greeks. In this Greek convent it is said that the Virgin and the Blessed Child, Jesus, had their abode during their sojourn in Egypt; here, too, are ancient structures said to have been built by Joseph, and used for treasure houses, in which corn was stored for the days of famine. In an upper chamber over one of the towers is an ancient Christian record sculptured on wood in the time of Diocletian. It is well preserved and of curious device; below is a representation of the Deity sitting on a globe supported by two angels, on either side of which is a procession of six figures representing the twelve apostles. Just on the opposite bank lies Gizeh, from which the Pyramids are named, with a ferry at the upper end of the town. As we approached the ferry, we were surprised at the number of people who thronged the landing place; numerous boats of all sizes were waiting for freight; donkeys and their riders, camels with their huge burdens, ragged men and women, were mingled together—antique-looking boats in strange confusion. After securing a ferry boat we gave the boatman an extra sixpence each to land us for a short time upon the beautiful little island of Roda whose grassy banks and shady groves have long been the resort of pleasure parties from Cairo. On this island stands the celebrated Nilometer; this is a square chamber built of stone, in the centre of which is a graduated stone pillar. By a scale on this pillar the daily rise of the Nile is ascertained; this is proclaimed every day during the inundation in the streets of Cairo. By this island, also, tradition fixes the place where a daughter of Levi, under the pressure of that cruel decree, took an ark of bulrushes, daubing it with slime and pitch and put the child therein and laid it in the flags by the river's brink. At this island, the faithful sister, Miriam, half concealed among the banks, watched with anxious solicitude the fate of her infant brother. Are these the waters that went rippling by the ark of the infant Moses, and over which he afterwards stretched his miraculous rod, transforming them into a torrent of blood? Oh Scripture, how wonderful thou art in thy story. Landing from the boat, we were in Gizeh, an old town, the miserable wreck of what it once was in the days of the Mamelukes. Passing along these streets, large quantities of oranges, dates and other fruits with bread and vegetables were exposed for sale. We bought some of these things and had some lunch; after a half hour's rest we started again, we had now about four miles to make across the open plain, the huge pyramids all the time in sight; we passed three Arab villages on our way. The appearance of indolence and poverty is everywhere apparent. A dozen ferocious dogs with bristling hair and savage howl, were sure to herald our approach. As we emerged from the last village the gray forms of those great sepulchral monuments lay just before us; their huge proportions seemed rapidly to increase as we neared them. They stand upon a rocky eminence, their base elevated one hundred and fifty feet above the plain just at the foot of the range of hills, behind which lies the vast ocean of sands constituting the great Lybian desert.
The ride was over, and we stood in amazement at the base of Cheops. There are five groups of these pyramids, numbering in all about 40. They extend up and down the valley for ten or twelve miles: most of them have such gigantic proportions as to justly entitle them to a place among the wonders of the world. They all stand upon the brow of the hills opening back into the great Lybian desert. As we stood in deep contemplation, gazing in wonder on this mighty structure we had come to examine, what huge proportions; what an immense labour; what years of human toil! But they were built for all that, and here they stand, and have stood for thousands of years, defying the storms of the desert, and the lightnings of the firmament; how wonderful are the works of men! About a dozen Arabs, with loose trowsers, short jackets, and red fez caps, came up and spoke to us. "Want to go up de top sah?" said the leader of the gang, "me take you up, take you inside, all round." "How much you ask?" said one of the Frenchmen. "He's the sheik," pointing to the best looking, who stood erect, holding the folds of his striped gown about him with all the dignity of a Turk, "he's the sheik, he make de bargains." We agreed with the sheik, for a guide to show us up and down, inside, and all round, for a dollar. We started with our guide,—we soon got up half way, and there we stopped to draw breath; the steps are from two to three feet, high, corresponding to the thickness of the layers of stone; of these layers or tiers of stone, there are two hundred and sixty-five, the ascent is quite fatiguing especially if one attempts to hurry; it took us twenty minutes to reach the top. A few moments' rest and I began to look about me, pondering on the magnitude of the stones, and the numerous names in many languages carved upon them. Forty feet of its top has been torn away, and what from the ground looked like a point too small to stand on, is a broad platform, thirty feet wide. I was surprised at the magnitude of the stones even at this height, two or three feet thick, and several feet long, what wondrous labour it must have been to elevate such masses of stone to such a height from the ground, and yet men now say such nations were ignorant and uncivilized.
I looked upon the broad plain that stretched away before me; there was much charming in the air, at this height. I took a survey of the great panorama, which lay in its variety and beauty at our feet. There was the green valley of the Nile, stretching away as far as the eye could reach, welcoming the golden sunlight that came down from the cloudless sky; with the majestic and wonderful river, as it rolled in dignity onward to its ocean home. Yonder in the distance were the Arabian hills skirting the vast expanse of the Lybian desert, that lay in bleak sterility beyond; nearer by, a spot upon the landscape, was the great city "Grand Cairo," its great gray, towering citadel, its mosques and minarets. Then I turned and looked down upon the battle field where Bonaparte, with thirty thousand men, met Murad Bey; where the memorable battle of the Pyramids was fought, and Abercrombie fell; where Bonaparte tried to inspire his men with valour by pointing to these monuments, exclaiming: "forty centuries are looking down upon you from these mighty structures."
The thunder of the battle ceased, the smoke cleared away, thousands were left dead upon the field, and the triumphant Bonaparte camped within the walls of Grand Cairo. Cheops is a travellers' register, and many a visitor has inscribed his name upon the summit. After adding our names (an English barbarism I believe it to be; but it began in our school-days) to the many already there, we descended in safety. As we approached the base our guide led the way to the opening that conducts to the interior. This entrance is on the north side, and about fifty feet from the base. It is a low doorway for so magnificent a structure; but who expects anything but a dark and dreary passage to the tomb? for such is the place to where this opening leads, a tomb hidden in the most stupendous pile of stones the skill and labour of man ever erected. The entrance is a low one, and we had to stoop nearly double; we had entered but a few feet when we found ourselves involved in darkness. Luckily we had brought a couple of wax candles with us from Cairo; having lighted the candles we continued to descend the narrow, dismal passage. Our guide conducted us to the King's chamber; this is the great sepulchre chamber of this astonishing structure. Its length is thirty-four feet four inches; breadth, seventeen feet seven inches, and height nineteen feet two inches. The only piece of furniture this chamber contains is a chest of red granite, chiselled from a solid block; its size is larger than the passage leading to the chamber, so that it must have been placed there when the room was built. Was it for this sarcophagus this stupendous pile of stones was erected? What has become of the lordly occupant? When, and by whom was it filled and when did it give up its treasure? There it stands in mute and mock defiance of every effort to ascertain the history of its owner. Like the tomb of Jesus after the morning of the resurrection, it was empty; the stone had been rolled away from the door, but no angel sat upon it to give the anxious visitor any tidings of its occupant. We now turned our attention to a few other interesting objects in close proximity. I had often heard and read of the Sphinx, but now I had the gratification of looking at this great monster. We are first struck with its peculiar formation, and its immense proportions. It is one hundred and twenty-eight feet long; from the rock on which it rests its lion-like breast to the top of the head is fifty-five feet nine inches. It is in a crouching posture, and it stretches out its enormous paws fifty feet in front of its capacious breast. This unwieldy monster is a monolith, cut from the native rock of the limestone of which it forms a part. This imposing head was adorned with a covering much resembling a wig, the flowing hair of which can still be seen projecting from each side. Time, the driving sands of the desert, and the hand of violence, have left their wasting influence on this noble piece of Art. The horns that adorned the head have been broken off, but there it stands without them, still grand, noble, and majestic. The whole western bank in this vicinity of the green valley of the Nile, for miles and miles, has been consecrated to the repose of the dead. Here are the sepulchres of kings, mummy pits, ibis tombs and rock-hewn chambers, for the magnificent sarcophagi of Apis bulls. Here countless thousands have been gathered unto their fathers, and the sands of the desert are every year covering them deeper and deeper. In the centre of one of these pits was a large granite chest, cut from the solid block, very much like the one I have described in the king's chamber in the pyramid. This was covered by a lid of the same material. This lid had been carefully lifted off and set on one side. Within the chest lay the sarcophagus. It was covered with hieroglyphical figures and inscriptions, and looked as fresh and perfect as when first deposited. It had not yet been opened. Within that sculptured chest was sleeping the mummied remains of some distinguished personage. For thousands of years he had enjoyed here the quiet sleep of the tomb, among his fathers and kindred; but now his long repose must be disturbed, and in some far-off museum, inquisitive strangers would gaze upon the blackened and withered features, and wonder who he was! After seeing those wondrous ancient monuments of Egyptian greatness and idolatry, and paying the sheik and backsheesh to our guide, we mounted our lively little donkeys and returned to Cairo.
The sun was just dipping his golden disk beneath the western horizon, far over the distant deserts, as we entered the gates and wound our way through the narrow crowded streets of Grand Cairo. We crossed the suburbs, gained the hotel, and enjoyed a good bath. A hard day's toil climbing the pyramids gave additional relish to the smoking viands, and refreshed, we retired to bed to dream of stone-coffins, mummy-pits, and sphinx. We awoke next morning from a refreshing sleep. The sun was shining in at our windows, the songs of the birds were awaking inspiring echoes among the tangled foliage of the Ezbekieh, and the air was fragrant with the perfume of the sweet flowers of the East. The day was to be devoted to an excursion to some place of interest a few miles from the city. Breakfast over, we stood on the steps of the hotel and our three donkey boys whom we had engaged were in readiness; we mounted our donkeys and started off to visit the ruins of Heliopolis, the ancient On, or the City of the Sun. These ruins are about six miles from Cairo, and the ride a most delightful one, through green fields of corn and various productions of the luxuriant soil. Now an orange grove opens upon our sight, then an extensive vineyard, while all the time our pathway was shaded by avenues of tamarack, fig and acacia, that wove their branches in tangled arches above our head. As we approached nearer, a beautiful obelisk lifts its slender form high into the heavens, standing in solitary grandeur the only monument left to mark the site of the ancient, opulent city. It is a single shaft of red granite, sixty-eight feet two inches high, and six feet three inches broad at the base. This is the oldest obelisk in existence, and here it stands in its original position. Its firm base and towering head have withstood all the assaults of time, the convulsions of the elements and the devastations of war. The wreck and ruin of four thousand years have not prevailed against it. The grounds around and in the vicinity of this obelisk have been cultivated, here the fellaheen sow their seed and gather their harvest, yet here stood one of the oldest and finest cities of the world, and here are buried the remains of some of the earliest temples. The ancient Egyptian name of the city, as interpreted, is the "City of the Sun." The Greeks called it Heliopolis, and the Hebrews, Bethshemesh (House of the Sun). This place was one of the most celebrated seats of ancient learning; it was famed for astronomy as well as the worship of the sun. The sacred bull, Mervis, shared also with the sun the divine honours of the city, and was one of the most noted among the sacred animals of Egypt. Not far from the obelisk is the beautiful fountain of the sun; the water springing directly from the earth. The people say this is the only living spring in the valley of the Nile. A few yards from this spring a very old sycamore tree spreads broad and thick its massive branches, forming an inviting shade. When Joseph and Mary, with the child Jesus, fled from the jealous and cruel Herod, and took refuge in Egypt, tradition says they reposed under the shadow of these overhanging boughs and drank water from the renowned fountain. Here, too, was the school of Moses. From the waters of the Nile that flowed but a little distance from here, the daughter of Pharoah rescued the weeping infant; and she called him Moses, for she "drew him out of the water." In the court of Pharoah he found a home. Here he became learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians. How all those recollections forced themselves on me. We next visited the palace of the Shoobra; it is about four miles from the city and near the banks of the Nile. A beautiful avenue, shaded by acacia trees, leads from the city to it; when these trees are in bloom they fill the air with fragrance. The grounds are beautifully laid out, and are frequently open to the public, and large numbers of visitors resort to them. They are beautifully diversified with terraces, walks, towers, flowers and shaded avenues. Many of the walks are tastefully paved with small black and white pebbles, wrought into various designs of Mosaic work. The great attraction of the garden is a noble reservoir of water gushing from marble fountains in the forms of crocodiles. From this beautiful place where the senses are regaled by nature and art, we returned to the city and made a special detour, in order to pass through an Egyptian date palm grove. These groves are planted in rows like our orchards. It is surprising what a variety of purposes the tree serves, and how useful it is made. These trees sometimes grow from fifty to seventy feet high, and are of uniform size from top to bottom. The summit is surmounted by a beautiful crown of leaves. Every part of the tree seems to be of some use; a charming beverage is made from the fruit, used among the natives; wine is made from the sap. The bark and part of the wood are manufactured into mats, baskets, and various other useful articles, the leaves are manufactured into a great variety of fancy articles. But the large crop of fruit is what renders it most valuable, and the failure of the date crop is one of the greatest calamities that can befall the land; the tree is also ornamental as well as useful. They are the most beautiful and striking objects of Egyptian landscape scenery. This grove is very extensive and spreads over several miles of the country. But while we have visited these places of interest the day has rapidly passed, and the evening sun is throwing his parting rays upon the beautiful landscape, and we must hasten to our hotel. Once more we are threading our way through the narrow streets of the city, and our ears are saluted with strange sounds from the vendors of different articles, as they hawk them about. The streets are passed, the din of cries die away in the distance; we are back to the hotel; a long ride and the delightful air has given us a good appetite for the evening meal which was ready on our arrival. After we had done justice to the delicious oriental viands, prepared for us by our hospitable host, we retired for the night and slept well. After breakfast next morning, we walked out to visit some of the ancient monuments of this wonderful city. The citadel was the first object of our admiration. It is the fortress of the city and tower of its defence, the depository of its munitions of war. It stands upon a hill, its massive, frowning walls overlooking the city on one side, and on the other the great barren desert that stretches away towards the Red Sea. From this tower is one of the finest views that can be obtained. First cast your eye towards the great Lybian desert, and see the time-defying pyramids, from the top of which we have before contemplated this land of the Pharaohs. On the other side, the beautiful Nile, slowly weaving his serpentine folds through groves of palm, and along green and flowery banks, and a city of three hundred thousand inhabitants at our feet, with the massive circuitous walls that enclose it; the great mosques and multitude of minarets that crown them all, forming one of the most remarkable and striking peculiarities of a Mohammedan country. Within this fortress stands a splendid palace of the Pasha, and by its side the harem, with beautiful fountains and pleasure grounds.
But what astonished us most, is the wonderful contrivance to supply the citadel with water; it is certainly worthy of the presiding genius of the land. This well is cut into the solid rock to the enormous depth of two hundred and sixty feet, and at the mouth fifty feet wide. Around the wall is a winding stairway cut close into the rock, with a partition wall of the rock left, about three feet thick, between it and the well, with occasional holes for windows to look through into the main shaft. Any one who has seen Dover shaft leading from Snargate street to the heights, will at once understand how this well is constructed; the open passage through the centre of that structure corresponding to the well; the circular stairway winding round it, to the descent here, cut in the rock, by which the bottom is reached. One of the most striking things connected with the well, is the manner of elevating the water. A large ox is taken down this winding stairway near to the bottom of the well where a cog-wheel machine for raising water is situated. The food is taken down to him, and he is kept here as long as he is able to work.
This well was found covered up under a wall, by Sultan Yoosef (Joseph) while clearing away the debris when building the fortress in A.D. 1711, hence "Joseph's well." Turning from the well, we next pay a visit to the mosque of Mohammed Ali. It is a gorgeous structure, the finest and most renowned in Modern Egypt, standing upon the hill of the citadel and inclosed by its ramparts; it lifts its proud form high above its companions. The whole interior, pillars, walls, and arches is of beautiful alabaster brought from the quarries of upper Egypt.
The mosque is also a burying place. It is the tomb of Mohammed Ali. He built it during his life, chiefly with the design of making it a mausoleum for his ashes when his eventful career was at an end. A conspicuous part of the building has been set apart for his tomb; a railing surrounds it, gorgeous decorations have been lavished upon it, and near it lights are kept continually burning. Here, in pompous state he reposes, and dreams no more of rivals, of conquests, or of power. Such is life! This being our last day in Grand Cairo, after tea we walked round the city to see all we could of this ancient place, and learn the habits of the people.
Here may be seen exhibitions and illustrations of all the passions and affections of the human heart. As we were returning to our hotel, we saw under the shade of a tree a company of Dervishes. These are a singular religious sect; they are anxious to obtain a reputation for superior sanctity, and many of them make pretensions to the performance of miracles. They are frightfully superstitious. Their devotional exercises are often of the wildest and most extravagant kind. Taking hold of hands in a large circle round a tree, they commence swinging their bodies backward and forward, jerking the head and shaking the hands, keeping time to a sort of murmuring exclamation, sometimes pronouncing the name of "Allah." As the excitement increases, they toss their hair, foam at the mouth, scream and seem to give themselves up to the wildest excesses of religious enthusiasm. They let go hands and then commence spinning round like a top, stretching out their arms. By the velocity of their motion, spreading out their loose dress like a large umbrella, for twenty minutes or more, without pause or rest, and continually increasing velocity. These religious devotees will twirl with a rapidity truly astonishing, making fifty revolutions a minute. We are indeed sorry to see their example followed in England by the Jumpers, &c. But we have seen enough of this foolish, useless, so-called religious enthusiasm. It would be well if such energy and devotion could be turned into a more useful channel. This, however, can only be done by God and His Church. Here is our hotel, and our day's excursion is ended.
We were up early next morning and had breakfast at seven o'clock, settled our bill with the landlord, and rode to the railway station in an omnibus, and took our departure by train at ten o'clock for Alexandria.
