Chapter XIII: Philæ

Eight o’clock on the following morning brought us the various authorities of the cataract, eager to secure their prize; and we instantly set sail, beating up the river with a fair wind, without which it would have been impossible to force our way against the current. The Nile, hitherto as broad as an estuary, is here very narrow, and strewn with islands and shoals. The richly-cultivated banks, the groves of palm and date trees, the busy shadoofs, and the troops of husbandmen, giving such animation to the scene, have vanished; and in their place, we now see a wild and desolate shore, choked with sand-banks, over which frown high precipitous rocks. Though attended with danger, the passage was full of novelty, which made it agreeable and nature appeared more striking in her naked grandeur and simplicity. Perhaps a sense of peril was not without effect on the crew; I never, during our stay in Egypt, knew Arabs so quiet, and never saw them so active and prompt.

At every turn, there was something to excite new caution; and the river, opening like a lake, wound its way through banks and rocks, where the least oversight would have led to the most disastrous consequences. In these intricate channels the steering was inimitable, and showed a thorough mastery of the navigation. The water, usually so smooth and gentle, had become a rapid, and in mid-channel dashed along like a torrent; but our boats pushed on, and stemmed it bravely. Once only a fall of about two feet impeded their progress, but the Sheik, with surprising alertness, immediately sprang overboard, and with a rope over his neck, made his way through the current to a small rock, round which he fastened the rope, and then pulled us on. In two hours a sweep in the river opened the view to some distance, and we came in sight of the cataract, pouring down its volume of water in a sheet of foam, which sparkled in the sun like light. We now drew on one side, and anchored under the lee of an island, whose eastern shore, girded by bold and rugged rocks, forms one of the barriers of the cataract.

At this place we expected, according to our agreement with the Sheik, to find a number of natives assembled, for the purpose of dragging us up the falls; but, of course, not a solitary individual could be seen. The Sheik, who was one of the coolest fellows imaginable, understood all this, and very deliberately went on shore, loaded with the imprecations of the crew, to enlist the men whom he had promised to have awaiting us on the spot. We found, therefore, that grumbling would have no effect, and that we must be content to remain stationary for the next twenty- four hours, as there was not the least chance of our being able to proceed earlier.

The scenery was such as might have reconciled us to a longer sojourn, and the eye was never weary of its attractions, glancing from the whirl of waters, as they dashed over the fall, to the abutting rocks, which reared their flinty summits in a thousand fantastic shapes, or at the little islands further down, rising from the rapid waves through a framework of lupins and beans, with their gay blossoms washed by the stream. But we were impatient to visit a spot, pre-eminent even here for its beauty and renown. Philæ, was only a short distance above the cataract, and we determined to spend the day in an excursion to its shores.

Our two jolly-boats were hoisted over the cataract in a quiet way, with the greatest facility, and now awaited us just beyond. We walked round, and on reaching the rendezvous, were surprised to find that, notwithstanding our unobtrusive movements, a crowd had assembled to see us set off. There were the usual venders of antiquities and ostrich eggs, and all the idlers the neighbourhood could furnish. Some, who could devise no other means of laying us under contribution, proposed to swim across the river, at the point where the current was most violent, for the smallest consideration imaginable; and it was with difficulty we escaped from their overtures. No feat they could perform in the water would have excited our astonishment, being aware, from what we had seen on our way up, that habit had made it almost their element. As we shoved off, we saw a woman ferrying herself over on a plank, which she moved along by paddling her feet, at the same time bearing an enormous load of grass on her head. It was amazing to see how composedly she sat, while piloting herself among the rocks and reefs, and supporting such a heavy weight.

The river here opens into innumerable little creeks and channels, flanked by rocks, which assume at a distance the appearance of temples, and on coming nearer, are found to impend over the water in the most singular manner, as if the slightest touch would hurl them down. Through this romantic avenue the traveller obtains his first glimpse of Philæ, which rises up out of the deep-blue of the Nile, its whole front covered by the temple, the chaste columns and granite walls of which are overshadowed by trees.

On either side, the main land is embanked by mighty boulders, piled up with such a show of art, and so much precision, it is difficult to believe that they have been thrown there by the hand of Nature.

One immense heap surprized us greatly. It was by far the highest, and rose at the summit in the form of a triangle—one half abutting from a huge mass below, hung in mid-air, while the boulder on which it thus partially rested appeared also to be suspended. We could not resist the temptation to climb these dangerous heights; looked down from their grotesque peaks on the fairy island below, which, Narcissus like, seemed to be contemplating its image, so faithfully mirrored in the bright, clear waters.

Philæ undoubtedly owes much to its position, which combines with its peculiar attractions, to render it the most beautiful island in the world. It is belted round with a quay, though the work of very early times, some still in good condition; and where the stones have mouldered away, or fallen, some ministering hand has planted lupins, which clothe the whole place with verdure. The island seems to have formed one vast temple, and its crumbling ruins, spread over its surface, still retain an appearance of order, and of completeness, strange even in Egypt. We landed at some broken stairs, and made our way through a court-yard, heaped with fallen pillars, to a spacious hall, decorated with paintings, in red, yellow, green and blue, brighter and fresher than any we had yet seen. The ground was carpeted with grass; moss and wild flowers sprang from the ancient stones; and, here and there, a tall palm-tree threw its shadow on the wall, or a mimosa drooped gracefully over a broken column. Thence we wandered away into the dark chambers, which the light of day had never entered. There are a great number of these rooms, and it is impossible to conjecture the purpose they were devoted to. Perhaps here were solemnized, under a veil of darkness, rites which outraged every feeling of humanity; or mysteries which masked, in idolatrous myths, the principles of true religion. Here the candidate for the priesthood may have been taught the duties of his office; here the sacrifice may have been prepared and adorned for the altar. The long range of chambers once probably resounded with midnight orgies, and bacchanalian shouts; or, which seems more probable, may have been the prison of groaning captives, destined as a propitiation to Moloch.

From these mysterious precincts we passed to a propylon, and then, through a noble porch, into a large open court, once enclosed by double rows of columns, most of which still remain. It was no doubt in this area that the laity congregated, previously to entering the temple to worship. Some authorities have asserted that, on certain great days, the priests assembled here to prophesy, and even to display their erudition to the people.

A massive staircase, constructed in the thickness of the wall, brought us to a platform above, where we came on a beautiful little temple, standing quite alone, on the verge of the quay, which commanded a magnificent prospect of the river. The columns, that run along the whole front, are surmounted by square blocks, instead of the usual elaborate capitals, and have a very striking effect. The island here expanded before us like a map, showing all its picturesque features at a glance; and, with one consent, we instantly fixed upon it as our most eligible resting-place.

In sauntering through the ruins, we fell upon some amusing and even ludicrous inscriptions. By one it appeared that, in those olden times, Philæ was a favourite haunt of the Egyptian nobility; who, however, with an eye to economy worthy of more modern days, expected, on visiting this sacred retreat, to be feasted and lodged at the expense of the priesthood. The consequence of this custom was, that the priests were impoverished, and the temple left unprovided; at last the former, losing all patience, made a representation of the circumstances to the King. The petition is duly set forth on the stone; and above, couched in the same magniloquent phrases, is the King’s answer, which prohibits the nobility for the time to come victimizing these holy men.

In strange conjunction with these venerable memorials, stand inscriptions by the travellers of to-day, usurping equal prominence on the time-honoured walls. All who are interested in the sentiments of a tourist named Smith, who lately visited the ruins, may find his impressions of the place legibly recorded, with his classic and unique name written in full, below. A long list of other names, with kindred pretensions to renown, are paraded on the adjoining wall, in letters of fearful length, and the traveller has the satisfaction of ascertaining that he has been preceded in his visit by divers representatives of the Thompsons and the Browns. To impress this more indelibly on his memory, the fact is emblazoned on fragments which even the ruthless hand of Time has scrupled to touch, that retain the perfect beauty and even the bright fresh colours with which they were originally decorated.

Our boatmen, indifferent alike to the beauties of nature and the wonders of art, had become impatient at our long stay, and at length we gratified them by returning. They pulled along most vigorously, and soon reached the landing-place, where we scrambled ashore, and made our way round the cataract to our vessels.