Chapter III: Letter I: On board the Oriental Steamer, the 5th of September, 1842

All our efforts were taxed to enable us to depart on the 1st September; the delay of one day would have cost us a whole month, so it was necessary to be doubly active. A visit to Paris was indispensable, and I reached it in thirty-one hours from London; but two days were all that could be spared to procure what was requisite in the way of purchases, letters, and notes. I returned richly laden from this city, ever rich to me in interest, information, and various proofs of kindness. In London, I acquired two additional excellent travelling companions—Bonomi and Wild, who had lately determined to share in the expedition on an independent footing. The former, already well known as a traveller in Egypt and Ethiopia, not only has a thorough practical acquaintance with the mode of life in those parts, but also possesses a critical knowledge of Egyptian art, and is a master in Egyptian drawing; the latter, a young architect, full of genius, seeks with enthusiasm in the East a new field for the exercise of the rich and various gifts with which he is endowed. At length, everything was purchased, provided, and packed, and we had bid farewell to our friends. Bunsen alone, with his usual kindness, and unwearied friendship, accompanied us as far as Southampton, the place of our embarkation, where we spent the evening together.

As at other times, when landing from a stormy sea after days of rough tossing, we suddenly enjoy an almost inconceivable degree of repose in the quiet harbour, although for a long time we still feel the ground tottering beneath us, and fancy we hear the sound of the breakers, so on this occasion I experienced the same, though the case was reversed; when, after the whirl of the last days and weeks, and coming from the immense metropolis of the world, I reached the harbour, and entered the narrow, quickly traversed and surveyed, wooden house of the monotonous wilderness of the ocean. All at once there was nothing more to provide and to hasten; the long row of more than thirty chests of our baggage had vanished piece by piece into the dark hold of the ship; our cabins required no arrangement, for they could scarcely contain more than our own persons. The absence of disturbance for some time caused a new and undefined kind of disturbance: anxiety, without anything to be anxious about.

Among the passengers, I will only mention the missionary Lieder, a German by birth, returning with his English wife to Cairo. Commissioned by the English Missionary Society, he has founded and conducted a boys’ and girls’ school there, which is now to be restricted exclusively to the children of the Coptic Christians. Lieder has introduced instruction in the Coptic language into this school, and has thus restored to an honourable position that remarkable and most ancient language of the country, which, for many centuries past, has been entirely supplanted among the people by the Arabic tongue. It is true that the Holy Scriptures still exist in the country in the Coptic tongue, and are even used in public worship, but they are only chanted as psalms, and are no longer understood.

We started from Southampton on the 1st September, about ten o’clock in the morning. The wind was against us, and therefore we did not reach Falmouth till twenty-four hours afterwards, where our ship waited for the London mail, to take in the letters. We remained several hours at anchor there, in a charming bay; an old castle is situated at the entrance on either side, while in the background the town forms an extremely picturesque group. About three o’clock we again put to sea, and as there was a side-wind, it caused much sea-sickness among our party. I consider myself fortunate, that even on the most stormy voyages I have never been in this disagreeable condition, which nevertheless has something comic in it for those who are not suffering. It is a curious circumstance that the same motion which rocks the child into a sweet slumber, or which invites us to a pleasure-sail in the tossing boat, on shipboard owing to the slower time of the wide-swinging pendulum, becomes intolerable suffering, and prostrates the strongest heroes, without, however, being accompanied by any serious danger.

The following day we reached the Bay of Biscay, and with difficulty cut through the long and deep waves, which rolled out from the distant coast. On the morning of the 4th instant, Sunday, very few appeared at breakfast. About eleven o’clock, in spite of the violent motion, we assembled for divine service. The English flag, as the most sacred cloth in the ship, was spread over the pulpit desk; Herr Lieder preached, simply and well. About four o’clock we saw the Spanish coast for the first time, in faint, misty outline. The nearer we approached it, the waves gradually fell, for the wind blew off shore. Air, sky, and sea were incomparably beautiful. Cape Finisterre, and the adjoining head-lands, became more clear. We descried several small sailing-vessels along the coast; and all kinds of sea-fowl swarmed round the ship. By degrees, the whole company, even the ladies, collected on deck. The sea became as smooth as the clearest mirror, and we kept the Spanish coast in sight the whole afternoon. The sun descended magnificently into the sea; the evening star was soon followed by the whole host of the heavenly stars, and a glorious night wrapt around us.

But now the most splendid spectacle presented itself that I have ever seen at sea. The ocean began to lighten up, all the crests of the breaking waves glowed with an emerald-green fire, and a brilliant greenish-white waterfall fell from the paddle-wheels of the vessel, which left in its long wake a broad, light streak in the dark sea. The sides of the vessel, and our downward gazing faces, were lighted up as bright as moonlight, and I was able to read print without any difficulty by this water-fire. When the illuminating matter, which, according to Ehrenberg’s researches, proceeds from infusorial animalculæ, was most intense, we saw flames dancing over the sea, as far as the coast, so that it seemed as if we were sailing through a more richly-starred sky than that which was above us. I have frequently observed this illumination of the sea on the Mediterranean also, but never with such extraordinary brilliancy as on this occasion. The spectacle was quite like enchantment.

Suddenly I observed between the waves new living streaks of fire, which radiated from the vessel like two gigantic serpents, and, judging by the proportions of the ship, were at least from sixty to eighty feet long; they moved in a deceptive manner, in large windings beside the vessel, crossed the waves, dipped into the foam of the paddle-wheels, reappeared, retreated, hurried forward, and finally vanished in the distance. For a long time I could not explain this phenomenon. I thought of the old tales, so frequently repeated, of the huge sea-serpents which have been seen from time to time. Nothing could more closely resemble what was here before us. At length it occurred to me that it might however only be fishes running a race with the vessel, and, by their rapid movements, brushing the surface of the luminous sea, they might produce the long streaks of light behind them. Nevertheless, the ocular demonstration remained as deceptive as before; I could discover nothing of the dark fishes, nor determine their size; but I at length consoled myself by my own conjecture.