Chapter XXXVI: Letter XXXIII: On the Red Sea, the 6th April, 1845

I shall employ our tranquil sea voyage, which will last for several days longer, in arranging the various materials I have collected on the Peninsula, and combining the principal events of this episode in our journey. I shall send a more detailed account of it from Thebes.[65] These lines, however, shall be handed over to Seïd Hussên in Qeneh, and shall be forwarded to the north by the first opportunity.

We left the convent on the 25th March, towards evening, and passed downwards through the broad WADI E’ SCHEIKH. I selected this roundabout way, as formerly, before the wild defile of Nakb el Haui was rendered passable, this valley was the only way by which the Israelites, if they were desirous of marching to the plains of Râha, could have reached that spot.[66] We spent the night in the upper part of the valley, near the tomb of the holy SHEIKH SALIH, from whom it receives the name of WADI E’ SCHEIKH. In the lower portion of the valley we first meet with the manna-yielding shrubs of Tarfa,[67] and the Sinaitic inscriptions on the sides of the valley become more frequent. But before reaching the outlet of the valley, we quitted it and climbed over to our left into the WADI SELÂF, which lower down joins the Wadi e’ Scheikh, in order to reach the foot of SERBÂL, by the shortest road from this. We had already frequently seen at every opening on the road the huge rocky summit rising above the surrounding mountainous district, and the accounts given us by the Arabs, of the fertile and irrigated WADI FIRÂN at its base, had long made me desirous of becoming better acquainted with it. I had resolved to ascend the mountain, and therefore made them lead us into the WADI RIM, that runs down from the mountain into the Wadi Selâf, which passes along Serbâl. After riding upwards of an hour in this valley, we came to an old stone hut, which might have once sheltered a hermit; soon afterwards we found some Arab tents, and at a short distance beyond these, several Sittere-trees, which we selected for our place of encampment.

On the 27th March we rose early to ascend the mountain Derb e’ Serbâl. The true road to Serbâl leads from WADI FIRÂN through Wadi Aleyât to the mountain. We were forced to go round its south-eastern extremity, and ascend behind from the south, as it would have been far beyond our powers to clamber up the heights through the Rim ravine, which descends precipitously, and in a direct line between the two eastern summits. One quarter of an hour above our encampment we came to a spring, shaded by Nebek, Hamâda, and Palm-trees, whose fresh, pure water, was walled round to the depth of several feet. We then climbed over a small rib of the mountain, on which there again stood several ancient stone houses, down into another branch of the Rim valley (Rim el mehâsni), and in an hour and a half reached the south-eastern angle of the mountain. From this point we pursued a paved road of rock, which was even sometimes supported by masonry work. This led us to an artificial terrace and a wall, the remains, as it appeared, of a house that had been destroyed, and to a cool spring, shaded by tall reeds, a palm-tree, and several Jassur bushes[68] (from which the Moses rods are cut); the whole mountain is here overgrown with Habak, and other sweet-smelling herbs. Some minutes farther on we came to several caves in the rock, which once served as hermit’s cells; and after wandering for almost four hours we reached a small plateau spreading out between the summits, where we again found a house with two rooms. A road led over this level ground to the edge of the western side of the mountain, which sinks at first steep and rugged, then in more gently-inclined wide ribs, to the sandy plain of EL G´EʾAH, and here disclosed to me across the sea a glorious prospect of the opposite coast, and the Egyptian chain of mountains bounding it. From this point the rock-path suddenly descended along the ragged mountain declivity into a wild, deep basin, round which the five summits of Serbâl meet in a semicircle, forming one mighty crown. In the middle of this basin, called WADI SIʾQELJI, are the ruins of an old convent, to which the mountain path leads, which unfortunately we had not time to visit.[69]

I therefore returned across the level space, and then began to ascend the most southern of the summits of Serbâl. When I had almost got to the top of the precipitous height, I thought I observed that the second summit was somewhat higher, and therefore hastened down again, and sought out a way to reach this. We passed a small piece of water, and were obliged to go almost round the whole basin, till we at length succeeded in clambering up it, from the north-east side. Here, to my astonishment, between the two points into which the summit is divided, I found a small level valley, plentifully supplied with shrubs and herbs, and from this I first ascended the one, then the other point, and by the assistance of my guide, who was conversant with the spot, I took the points of the compass with reference to all the places of note which might here be surveyed in the wide horizon. For instance, I could clearly perceive how the mountain summits beyond Gebel Mûsa continue to rise higher, and that the distant UM SCHÔMAR rose above all the others. We did not set out on our return till four o’clock, so that we were obliged to avoid the circuitous road by which we had ascended, unless we were desirous of being overtaken by darkness. We therefore determined to leap down, from block to block like chamois, and follow the precipitous rocky ravine, which led almost in a straight line to our camp in Wadi Rim, and in two hours and a half, with trembling knees, we reached our tent by this impracticable path, the most difficult and the most fatiguing that I ever trod in the whole course of my life.

The following day we proceeded farther, and passing through Wadi Selâf, and the lowest part of Wadi e’ Scheikh, we reached the WADI FIRÂN—this most precious jewel of the Peninsula, with its Palms and groves of Tarfa, on the banks of a lovely rushing stream, which, winding among shrubs and flowers, conducted us to the old convent mountain of the town of PHARAN, the FIRÂN of the present day. Everything that we had hitherto seen, and what we afterwards saw, was naked, stony desert compared to this fertile oasis, abounding in wood and water. For the first time since we had left the Nile valley, we once more walked on soft black earth, obliged to defend ourselves with our arms from the overhanging leafy branches, and we heard singing birds warbling in the thick foliage. At the point where the broad Wadi Aleyât, descending from Serbâl, enters Wadi Firân, and where the valley spreads out into a spacious level tract, there rises in the centre of it a rocky hill called HERERAT, on the summit of which are the ruins of an ancient convent building. At its foot stood once a magnificent church, constructed of well-hewn blocks of sandstone, the ruins of which are built into the houses of the town situated on the slope of the opposite mountain.

The same evening I went up Wadi Aleyât, passing innumerable rock-inscriptions, to a well, surrounded by Palm and Nebek trees, where I enjoyed the entire prospect of the majestic mountain chain. Apart from all the other mountains, and united into one single mass, Serbâl rises, at first in a slope of moderate inclination, afterwards in steep precipices, with chasms, to the height of 6000 feet (above the sea). Nothing could equal the scene when the valleys and low mountains around were already veiled in the shadows of night, and the summits of the mountain still glowed above the colourless grey, like a fiery cloud in the sinking sun.

The following morning I repeated my visit to Wadi Aleyât, and completed my observations of the whole of this remarkable district, the principal features of which I had already noted down from the summit of Serbâl.

The most fertile district of Wadi Firân is enclosed between two hills which rise from the centre of the valley; the upper one of these two is called EL BUÊB, the lower, situated at the outlet of Wadi Aleyât, MEHARRET or HERERAT. In very ancient times the valley appears to have been closed in here, and the waters rushing down from all sides, even from Gebel Mûsa, into this basin, appear to have united into a lake. It is only in this manner that we can explain the very remarkable deposit of earth, which extends along the sides of the valley to between eighty and a hundred feet high, and no doubt it is this remarkable position of Firân, as the lowest point of a large mountainous district, which occasions the unusual supply of water that issues forth at this point.

Directly behind the convent hill we found the narrow bed of the valley as stony and barren as the more elevated valleys, although the brook was still visible by our side for half an hour. The violent irruption of those primitive waters permitted no more deposits of earth in this spot. It was only at the next still more decided bend of the valley, called EL HESSUE, that a few more groups of palm-trees appeared. Here the brook disappeared in a cleft of the rock, as suddenly as it had burst forth behind Buêb, and we did not see it again.

After being five hours on the road, we quitted Wadi Firân, that here turned off to the left hand towards the sea, and we emerged from the primitive mountains into a more level region of sandstone. The loftier range retreated towards the north-west, and encircled in a great bow the hilly, sandy district that we traversed. We next came to the WADI MOKATTEB, the “valley with inscriptions,” which derives its name from the immense numbers of inscriptions which are to be found here in several places. It is easy to perceive, that it is those places sheltered from the mid-day sun, which invited passing travellers on the road to Firân to engrave their names and short mottoes in the soft rock. We took impressions on paper of as many of them as we could obtain, or copied with the pen those which were less adapted for an impression. We found these inscriptions scattered singly, in the most various, and frequently very remote places of the Peninsula, and taking them altogether, I have no doubt whatever that they were engraved by the inhabitants of the country during the first centuries before and after Christ. I sometimes found them cut over more ancient Greek names, and not unfrequently Christian crosses are connected with them. These inscriptions are habitually called SINAITIC, which would not be inappropriate, if thereby the whole Peninsula of Sinai was intended to be designated as the spot where they are found. But we must observe, that on Gebel Mûsa itself, which is regarded as Sinai, very few single and short inscriptions of this kind have been found, such as those which, after careful observation, are to be met with in almost all spots adapted to them, but that, on the contrary, their actual centre was rather PHARAN, at the foot of SERBÂL.

On the 31st of March we again reached the lofty chain which turns back from the east, and marched through Wadi Qeneh into the small WADI MAGHÂRA, which branches off from it, and in which the sandstone and primitive rock border on one another. Here we found, high up in the northern sandstone precipices, the remarkable Egyptian rock stele belonging to the earliest monuments generally known to us among Egyptian antiquities.[70] As early as the 4th Manethonic Dynasty, the same which built the great Pyramids of Gizeh, in Egypt, more than 3000 years before our era, _copper mines_ were discovered in this wilderness, which were worked by a colony of labourers. Even then the Peninsula was inhabited by Asiatic, probably Semetic races, for which reason we frequently see the Pharaoh represented in those rock-images as conqueror over the enemies of Egypt. Almost all the inscriptions belong to the Old Monarchy; we only found one from the period when King Tuthmosis III. and his sister reigned together.

From this point I was anxious to take the shortest road to the second place in the Peninsula, where there are ancient Egyptian monuments, SARBUT EL CHÂDEM. But there was no direct road over this lofty range to its slope on the other and north-easterly side, so we were obliged to return to WADI MOKATTEB, and get across the mountains by a very circuitous route through WADI SITTERE and WADI SICH. As we again emerged, we had the immeasurable plateau in front of us, which includes the whole of the north of the Peninsula, and consists of one single vast bed of sandstone. This, however, descends towards the south by two steps, so that the prospect seems as if it were bounded by two lofty mountain precipices retreating at about equal distances into the far distance. The descent nearest to the south, called E’ TIH, sinks to a flat, broad sandy valley, DEBBET E’ RAMLEH, while the masses of sandstone rock, on this side, seem to be as high as the general plateau.

On a terrace protruding far into the broad valley, which we climbed with great difficulty, are the wonderful monuments of SARBUT EL CHÂDEM, which appear no less so, even to those who are prepared to behold them. The oldest representations led us also here into the Old Monarchy, but only as far back as its last dynasty, the twelfth of the Manethonic list. In this period, under AMENEMHA III., a small rock-grotto was excavated, and furnished with an ante-chamber; lofty steles were erected outside, at different distances, and without any determined arrangement, the one lying most remote being a short quarter of an hour distant on the highest point of the plateau. During the New Monarchy, TUTHMOSIS III. enlarged the building towards the west, and added a small pylon with an outer court. The later kings had built an additional long series of chambers, one in front of the other, in the same direction, solely, as it appears, for the purpose of protecting the memorial stele erected upon them from the weather, especially from the sharp wind, often loaded with sand, which has now almost totally destroyed the ancient steles, which were even at that time unprotected. The latest stele exhibits the Shields of the last king of the 19th Dynasty, therefore since that time, or soon afterwards, the place was probably deserted by the Egyptians.

The divinity who was here peculiarly worshipped in the New Monarchy, was HATHOR, with the epithet which is also found in the Wadi Maghâra, “Mistress of MAFKAT”—_i. e._ of the _copper country_, for _mafka_ in hieroglyphics, as well as still in the Coptic language, meant “copper.” Therefore no doubt copper was also obtained here. This was confirmed by a peculiar appearance, which, strange to say, seems to have been left unnoticed by all previous travellers. To the east and west, namely of the temple, may be seen great mounds of slag, which, by their black colour, form a strong contrast with all that surrounds them. These artificial elevations, the largest of which is 256 paces long, and from 60 to 120 broad, are situated on a tongue of land forming a terrace that projects into the valley; they are coated over with a solid crust of slag between 4 and 5 feet thick, and are covered to their base with separate fragments of slag to the depth of 12 to 15 feet. The ground shows that the mines could not have been situated in the immediate neighbourhood, their site might, however, easily be discovered by the ancient roads, which are still visible, leading to the mountain range, but unfortunately we had not sufficient time to accomplish this. Hence it appears that this open spot was probably selected merely for smelting the ore, on account of the keen draught of wind, which, as we were assured by the Arabs, is here almost incessantly blowing.

The 3rd of April we rode on farther, visited the Wadi Nasb, in which we also found the traces of ancient smelting places, and the following day, towards evening, reached our ship, which had been waiting for us several days, in the harbour of ABU ZELÎMEH.

We here, to our no small surprise, found four German journeymen; two of them Prussians, from the district of the Neisse, in Silesia. They had started from Cairo with the intention of visiting Sinai, and reached Suez safely; had there waited in vain for a ship, and at length, like genuine modern Crusaders, started alone to attain their bold object. They had been told (hardly in good German) that the way was short, and could not be missed, and that there was no want of water. Possessed with this happy belief, their pilgrim’s bottle filled to the brim, they entered the wilderness. But the footsteps of the children of Israel had long since disappeared, and no pillar of smoke went before them. The third day they lost their way, their bread was consumed, they had missed the wells, had several times been stopped by Arabs, and only escaped being robbed because they possessed nothing worth robbing; and thus they certainly would have been starved in the wilderness, had they not looked down from the mountains and beheld our vessel on the coast many hours distant, and fortunately reached it before our arrival. On my inquiring about the trades, to perfect which, they had undertaken this journey to the East, and also whether they hoped to find employment with the monks on Mount Sinai, as they had no money with them, it appeared that one was a carpenter, who was in hopes of making himself very useful there; I was, alas! compelled to inform him, that he would have to compete with a lay-brother in that department; the other was a shoemaker, the third a stocking-weaver, and the fourth, after some hesitation, confessed that he was a woman’s tailor. Nothing remained but to take these strange people along with us in the vessel, although they were regarded with a jealous eye by the sailors, as we began to feel some scarcity in the supply of water. I landed them at Tôr, and arranged that some one should accompany them thence to the convent.

Besides the remarkable _Egyptian_ monumental sites of this copper country, and the so-called _Sinaitic_ inscriptions, I was chiefly occupied during the journey with geographical inquiries in connection with the sojourn of the _Israelites_ on the Peninsula. I think I have arrived at some results with respect to this, deviating, indeed, in essential points, from what has hitherto been admitted; but if they are correct, they furnish some important features for the historical and geographical background of that most important event in the Old Testament. I will here only point out briefly some of the chief points, of which I will say more when I write from Thebes.

I became doubtful, even in the convent at GEBEL MÛSA, whether the holy mount of the law-giving could have been situated here. Since I have seen SERBÂL and WADI FIRÂN at its base, besides a great part of the rest of the country, I have become convinced that SERBÂL must be recognised as SINAI, in preference to the other.[71]

The monkish tradition of the present day is of no value to the unprejudiced inquirer.[72] Whoever has once occupied himself earnestly with such matters is aware of this. Even in Jerusalem it is for the most part useless, and has not the slightest weight, if unsupported by original authorities, how much more so in the Peninsula of Sinai, where far more remote questions, both as to time and place, are treated of. In the long interval of time between the law-giving and the first centuries of the Christian era, Sinai is only once mentioned in a passage referring to a later historical event, as the “Mount of God, HOREB,” to which Elijah retires.[73] It would, in fact, be most strange if the tradition had never received an interruption during this period, although the population of the Peninsula had meantime changed so much that we are no longer able to point out with certainty a single Old Testament name for a locality; and even the Greeks and Romans were unacquainted with those ancient designations.[74] We are, therefore, referred solely to the Mosaic narrative to prove the correctness of our present assumptions.

We must further premise with respect to this, that the general geographical conditions of the Peninsula have not essentially altered since the days of Moses. Whoever takes refuge in the opposite supposition, may indeed prove everything, but for that very reason proves nothing. It is, however, just as important to bear in mind distinctly the _historical_ conditions of the different periods, because these indeed were calculated to produce partial alterations of particular districts.

Accordingly, no one will be able to deny that WADI FIRÂN, abounding at all times, and therefore in the time of Moses, in water, and possessing a rich soil, must, in consequence of its incomparable fertility and its inexhaustible rapid stream, have been the most important and the most desirable central spot of the whole Peninsula. For this wonderful Oasis, in the centre of the ever barren wilderness, was subject even then, as now, to the general conditions of the surface of the ground in that country. On the other hand, it is however no less certain, that the vicinity of the present convent of GEBEL MÛSA was formerly, in spite of the scanty springs of water also appearing on the surface there, but which merely moisten the ground immediately surrounding them, just as barren as all the other parts of that mountainous wilderness, only furnishing sufficient water for the inhabitants of the convent by means of a draw-well dug into the rock;[75] and after more than a thousand years of artificial irrigation, the most careful employment of every means of cultivation only enabled them to make small plantations, such as exist there at the present time.[76] In ancient times there was not the slightest reason for making that wilderness habitable by artificial means, the rather as it was situated away from the great roads connecting the different parts of the Peninsula, and formed an actual _cul de sac_, with only one single entrance through the Wadi e’ Scheikh.

On the other hand, there is another spot in the Peninsula which was a position of great importance long before the time of Moses, and even in his days, but has lost it since that time: it is the harbour of ABU ZELÎMEH. It was to this point that the roads led from the three different mines that hitherto we have become acquainted with. They proceeded from WADI MAGHÂRA, SARBUT EL CHÂDEM, and WADI NASB. There was no more convenient landing-place than this, to connect Egypt with those colonies; indeed, our sailors decidedly affirmed that it was the best harbour on the whole coast, not excepting that of Tôr. The Egyptians were therefore compelled to provide, above all things, for a copious supply of water, in the most immediate neighbourhood of that spot. As this was neither furnished by the sandy sea-coast, nor by valleys, which had their outlets here, wells no doubt were made at the nearest spots which offered a likelihood of yielding water from below ground. Such a spot was discovered at the lower outlet of the Wadi Schebêkeh (called by others Tâibeh), where even now, there are a number of Palms, and many other trees, consequently a moist soil, although there is no appearance of a spring.[77] This, therefore, would have been the most suitable point to dig for water, and to make a well. No one now differs in opinion that the place of encampment at the RED SEA, mentioned after Elim in the Book of Numbers,[78] was near ABU ZELÎMEH. In Exodus this statement is omitted, and the _twelve wells_ and _seventy palm-trees_ of ELIM are alone mentioned.[79] What, therefore, can be a more natural conclusion, or indeed an almost unavoidable one, than that the wells and palms of Elim were situated about an hour distant from the outlet of the valley whose entrance was at the harbour of Abu Zelîmeh, and for that very reason in Exodus, the encampment on the sea, is related as being not specially separated from ELIM, the watering station of the harbour, which probably bore the same name. According to the statements that have been hitherto admitted, as well as those of Robinson, the twelve wells of Elim were situated in the WADI GHARANDEL, by the latest calculations[80] between eight and nine hours distant from the port, a long day’s journey, therefore useless for the supply of that important spot. It is not easy to perceive what could have occasioned twelve wells to be made precisely in Wadi Gharandel, where even now the brackish water of that whole district appears on the surface in somewhat greater abundance than elsewhere. In addition to this, we should further be compelled to transfer the station of MARA, which immediately preceded it, to an insignificant spring not more than an hour and a half, or two hours distant from Wadi Gharandel, while the succeeding station is assumed to be at the distance of eight hours. To me, it seems scarcely possible to doubt that the first three desert marches conducted as far as WADI GHARANDEL, _i. e._ MARA, the fourth, to the harbour station of ABU ZELÎMEH, _i. e._ ELIM.

It is only in this manner that we can understand their progress, when it is said, “And they took their journey from Elim—and came unto the wilderness of _Sin, which is between Elim and Sinai_.”[81] The boundary of two provinces at Wadi Gharandel would geographically be just as inconceivable, as it is natural at Abu Zelîmeh. The harbour, with its small plain situated between the Nochol rock and Gebel Hammâm Faraûn, forms in fact, by the rock protruding into the sea, the most important geographical section of the whole coast.[82]

The northern plateau sinking uniformly towards the sea was called the Wilderness of SÛR; the southern mountainous district rising higher, and soon passing into the primitive rock, totally different in character, is called the Wilderness of SIN. There would be no meaning in the remark that this last was situated _between_ Elim and Sinai, if by this it were not meant that the Wilderness of Sin extended as far as Sinai, or even farther. The next departure, therefore, from the Wilderness of Sin to Raphidîm, is not to be understood as if they had quitted this wilderness; on the contrary, they remained in it till they reached Sinai, whose name SINI, _i. e._ “the Mount of SIN,” was evidently first derived from this district, and for this very reason should not be sought for beyond its limits. The same conclusion may be deduced from the account about the _Manna_ which was given to the Israelites in the Wilderness of Sin; for this is first met with in the valleys in the vicinity of Firân, and appears as little in the sandy districts near the sea, as in the more elevated regions of Gebel Mûsa.[83]

Now, if we already here put the preliminary question, which of the two mounts, SERBÂL or GEBEL MÛSA, was so situated as to be peculiarly designated as SINI, the “SINIC,” “the Mount of the Wilderness of SIN,” there cannot be a moment’s doubt which to select. Gebel Mûsa, invisible from every quarter, almost concealed and buried,[84] neither distinguished by height, form, position, nor any other peculiarity, presented nothing which could have induced the native tribes, or the Egyptians who had settled there, to give it the peculiar designation of the “Mount of Sin,” while Serbâl, attracting the eye to itself from all sides, and from a great distance, unequivocally commanding the whole of the northern portion of the primitive range, has always been the central point for the widely-scattered inhabitants of the country, and the goal of travellers, not only from its external aspect, but also on account of Wadi Firân, situated at its base; therefore it might very appropriately be designated the “Mount of Sin.” But if any one were to conclude from the expression the departure from the Wilderness of Sin to Raphidîm, that the broad tract of sea-shore to the south of Abu Zelîmeh, which the Israelites were obliged to traverse, was alone called the Wilderness of Sin, which is Robinson’s view of the question,[85] Serbâl, which commands and also comes into immediate contact with this district, and is accessible from this point by the old convent of Siʾqelji, might even then have been designated Mount Sin, for instance by the sailors on the Red Sea; but Gebel Mûsa, situated exactly on the opposite and eastern side of the great range, could not possibly have been named after the western Wilderness of Sin, nor have given the smallest ground for the statement that the Wilderness of Sin was situated between Abu Zelîmeh and Gebel Mûsa. One other view might still be adopted: for instance, that the whole of the primitive mountain range—that is to say, the whole of the Peninsula to the south of Abu Zelîmeh—was called the “Wilderness of Sin,” and consequently included Gebel Mûsa. Even this would not necessarily prevent our assuming that Serbâl, as the mountain best known, and nearest at hand, must especially have appeared of more importance to the Egyptian colonists than the southern range, and might have been distinguished by that name; whilst in the principal southern range Um Schômar, as the loftiest central point, would have alone justified such a distinction, and not the entirely subordinate Gebel Mûsa, still less the insulated rock Sefsâf, which is regarded as such by Robinson.

All that has been here said about SINAI as the “MOUNT OF THE WILDERNESS OF SIN,” is also applicable to the still more remote question, which of the two mountains, Serbâl, or Gebel Mûsa, possessed such qualifications as to have been regarded by the native tribes of the Peninsula, even before the great event of the Law-giving, as a “HOLY MOUNT,” A MOUNT OF GOD.[86] For Moses drove the sheep of Jethro from Midian beyond the wilderness to the “MOUNT OF GOD, CHOREB,”[87] and Aaron met him, on his return to Egypt, at the MOUNT OF GOD.[88] If we maintain that the necessary centre of the Sinaitic population must have been, at all events, the Oasis of FIRÂN, we may also suppose that those tribes founded a sanctuary, a common PLACE OF WORSHIP, in the vicinity of that spot, either at the base, or, still more naturally, on the summit of the mountain which rises up from that valley.[89] This also was the most appropriate place for the meeting between Moses, who came from Midian in the East, and Aaron, who came from Egypt. In such a barren and uninhabited country there was no occasion to search for any peculiarly secret and remote corner among the mountains for such an interview.

In addition to this, the _Sinaitic inscriptions_, which, as mentioned above, are found in the greatest numbers, especially on the roads to Wadi Firân, and in Wadi Aleyât, which leads up to Serbâl, seem to indicate that in much later times also considerable pilgrimages were undertaken thither to solemnise religious festivals.[90]

If we now pass at once to the principal point, which must appear as most decisive to those who look attentively at the general conditions connected with the march of the Israelites, it must be allowed that if Moses desired to lead his numerous people to the Peninsula, the first and chief task he had to perform, in accordance with his wisdom, and his knowledge of the country, was to _maintain_ them. For however we may explain the given numbers of the emigrants, which according to Robinson amounted to two millions, by Lane’s account equal to the present population of Egypt, we must always admit that there was a very considerable mass of people who were suddenly to be maintained in the Sinaitic wilderness without any importation of provisions. How then can we imagine that Moses would not have kept in view, above all other places, the only spot in the Peninsula that was fertile and amply supplied with water; and that he would not have endeavoured to reach it by the shortest path; but that in place of this, a remote nook in the mountains should have been sought out, which at that time could not possibly have supplied the daily necessity of water and other nourishment, even for only 2000 emigrants and their belongings—I mention a high number intentionally. Moses would have been wrong to have trusted here to miraculous aid from God; for this is never manifested until human wisdom and human counsel, which is not intended to be rendered superfluous through it, can go no further.

It appears to me that we should not relinquish this inevitable opinion respecting the position of Sinai, which is opposed to the view hitherto entertained, and becomes stronger the longer we reflect upon it, and we ought not to disclaim any more particular historical consideration of this wonderful occurrence, unless other grounds, as urgent, should afford proofs against our mode of acceptation. Let us therefore pursue the narrative still further.

From Elim, Moses reached Raphidîm in a march of three days. Modern scholars generally agree that the march from Abu Zelîmeh did not pass again through the same Wadi Schebêkeh or Tâibeh through which they had descended, back to the eastern sandy plain of E’ Raml, but followed the customary caravan road which leads to Wadi Firân. How should Moses then have selected the far longer upper road devoid of water, or even the still longer, and still more arid, circuitous route along the sea-coast by Tôr and Wadi Hebrân, instead of at once entering the less arid valleys of the primitive range which abounded in manna?

He was obliged therefore to go to Wadi Firân; no third way was possible. This is the urgent reason why Raphidîm (except by Robinson[91]) has almost as unanimously been transferred to FIRÂN. It seems, however, impossible that this oasis, if it was traversed, should not have been once mentioned; therefore even Josephus,[92] Eusebius,[93] Jerome,[94] and, as it appears, all the older authors and travellers,[95] place Raphidîm near the town of PHARAN. No spot in the whole land could have been of greater value for the native tribes who were menaced by Moses than these orchards of Pharan. We may, therefore, perfectly conceive that Moses was attacked at this very spot in Raphidîm by the Amalekites, who were about to lose their most precious possession. He repulsed them, and Moses could now first say that he had got possession of the Peninsula. His nearest object was attained. What could have attracted him still farther from this point?

It is also said, however, in distinct terms, that the people had arrived here at the MOUNT OF GOD; consequently at the MOUNT OF THE LAW. For it is said, after the victory at Raphidîm, that Jethro, the father-in-law of Moses in Midian, heard of all that had happened. “And Jethro, Moses’ father-in-law, came with his sons and his wife unto Moses into the Wilderness, WHERE HE ENCAMPED AT THE MOUNT OF GOD.”[96] And even before that, the Lord had said to Moses, “Behold, I will stand before thee there upon the rock in CHOREB; and thou shalt smite the rock, and there shall come water out of it, that the people may drink,”[97] words which could only have alluded to the wonderful spring of Firân, as has been already supposed long before my time.[98] It may still further be deduced, that Moses really found repose here in Raphidîm, because now, by the advice of Jethro, he organises the hitherto disorderly mass of people to enable him to govern them.[99] He selects the best qualified men, and places them over a thousand, over a hundred, over fifty, and over ten; these are appointed judges of smaller matters while he only retains the most important for himself.

All this evidently indicates that the journey was past, and the period of repose had commenced.

The beginning of the following chapter (Exodus xix. 1-3) certainly seems to contradict this, for it is said, “In the third month, when the children of Israel were gone forth out of the land of Egypt, the same day[100] came they into the wilderness of SINAI. For they were DEPARTED FROM Raphidîm, and were come to the desert of Sinai, and had pitched in the wilderness; and there Israel camped BEFORE THE MOUNT, and Moses went up unto God, and the Lord called unto him OUT OF THE MOUNTAIN,” &c.

According to this, they decamped between Raphidîm and Sinai. This favoured the tradition which believed that the Mount of the Law might be re-discovered in Gebel Mûsa beyond Firân. At the same time, however, it was not considered that by admitting this we encounter much greater contradictions with the text. In the first place, the words mention no more than one day’s journey,[101] not even in the Book of Numbers,[102] where, nevertheless, between Elim and Raphidîm, not only Alus and Daphka, but the Red Sea (though this last was near Elim) are particularly mentioned. From Firân to Gebel Mûsa there were, however, at least two long days’ journeys, if not more. The “MOUNT OF GOD” has likewise been already mentioned in Raphidîm, it was there called a rock in CHOREB; and it is therefore impossible to understand by the Mount of God any other than “THE MOUNT OF GOD” to which Moses drives the sheep of Jethro.

We should, thus, be obliged to admit that there were _two_ “Mounts of God;” one, the “MOUNT OF GOD, CHOREB,” in Raphidîm, which would be SERBÂL, and a “MOUNT OF GOD, SINAI,” on which the law was given, which would be GEBEL MÛSA.[103]

To admit this would, however, in itself not only be scarcely conceivable, but most distinctly self-contradictory, inasmuch as it maintains that the Mount of God, CHOREB, where God first appears to Moses, is even in anticipation designated as the Mount of the Law (Exodus iii. 1-12); that further, the general designation, the “MOUNT OF GOD,” which appears so frequently without a name being appended (Exodus iv. 27, xviii. 5, xxiv. 13; Numbers x. 33), could only have been employed if there were no more than _one_ such Mount; and, finally, because the name of SINAI, or MOUNT SINAI, and CHOREB, or MOUNT CHOREB, are continually mentioned with exactly the same meaning as Mount of the Law-giving.

This evident difficulty has indeed been felt strongly at all times.[104] Josephus (Ant. iii. 2, 3) forwarded his view by transposing the doubtful commencement of the xix chapter from its present position _after_ the visit of Jethro, to _before_ it, so that Moses does not receive his family in Raphidîm, but in Sinai. By this means certainly the double difficulty is avoided; on the one hand, because two Mounts of God do not appear, on the other, that the organisation of the people does not occur during the journey. He also deliberately omits the statement that in CHOREB was situated the rock which Moses strikes for the spring of water.

Modern scholars have, on the contrary, proposed either to make Sinai the general name for the whole of the range, and Choreb the individual Mount of the Law-giving, or _vice versâ_, Choreb for the more extended, and Sinai for the limited designation,[105] while the tradition of the monks refer both names to different mountains situated immediately beside each other.[106] It seems to me that the comparison of the individual passages admits of none of these views; in my opinion it is rather clearly proved, by the names of Choreb and Sinai being used alternately, but with perfect equality, that _both_ designated _one and the same mountain_ together with the district immediately surrounding it,[107] so that Choreb perhaps was the more precise Amalekitish local name, Sinai the more indeterminate one, derived from its position in the Wilderness of Sin.

But with respect to the departure from Raphidîm, many might think it very probable that those words, which so strikingly interrupt the natural sequence of circumstances as to have been intentionally transposed either by Josephus, or prior to his time, did not originally belong here, but were placed at the commencement of the account of the Law-giving; if, as no doubt frequently occurred, this was to be understood by itself alone, separate from all that preceded and succeeded it.[108] The unusual manner in which they are connected, since the arrival at Sinai is mentioned previously to the departure from Raphidîm, and the expression “the same day,” which is so difficult to explain, while in the other statements of time a particular day is mentioned, would support the supposition.[109] Whoever, however, may consider it too bold to assume that we no longer possess the original composition, can only explain the fresh departure to be a last and insignificant removal of the encampment, such as we were obliged to admit to be the case at the departure from Elim to the sea coast. This removal was either while they advanced from El Hessue (where they first beheld the water) towards Firân, or from Firân into the upper portion of Wadi Aleyât, where the camp might have extended far and wide at the foot of the Mount.[110]

Whoever endeavours to realise the whole progress of the event, with its essential and necessary characteristics, can only be satisfied by comprehending it in this manner. He will not be able to blind himself to the conviction that Serbâl, on account of the oasis at its base, must have been the necessary object and centre for the pouring in of the new people, and that the wise Man of God, so well acquainted with the country, could never have intended to lead the multitude into a mountain enclosure like the plain at Gebel Mûsa, where they would find no water, no trees bearing fruit, nor manna, and where they would have been more easily cut off from all connection with the other parts of the Peninsula than anywhere else. He will be compelled to acknowledge that the designation of SINAI as the chief mountain of the Wilderness of SIN, and the sanctity with which it was regarded, not merely by the Israelites, but by the native tribes of the country, decidedly points to Serbâl; further, that the Raphidîm defended by the Amalekites was undoubtedly situated, together with the spring of Moses in Choreb, in the Wadi Firân; that consequently the Mount of God at Choreb, where God appeared to Moses, and the Mount of God at Raphidîm, where Moses is visited by Jethro, and organises the people, could also be no other than Serbâl, from which, finally, we must as necessarily deduce that unless we admit that there were two Mounts of God, the Mount of the Law was also near Raphidîm, and is recognisable in Serbâl, not in Gebel Mûsa.

In conclusion, if we now once more look back and observe how the present tradition bears on our account of the event, we perceive that it refers at once to the foundation of the convent, by Justinian, in the sixth century.[111] This, however, was by no means the first church of the Peninsula. At a far earlier period we already find a bishopric in the town of Pharan, at the foot of Serbâl.[112] Here was the first Christian centre of the Peninsula, and the church founded by Justinian also remained dependent on this for the space of several centuries. The question therefore is, whether the tradition which regards the present Gebel Mûsa as Sinai can be referred to a time prior to Justinian.[113] The remoteness of that district, and its distance from frequented roads of communication, though from its position in the lofty range offering sufficient subsistence for the trifling necessities of the single, scattered monks, rendered it peculiarly applicable for individual hermits, but for the same reason inapplicable for a large people, ruling the land for a certain period of time, and exhausting all its resources. The gradually increasing hermit population might have drawn the attention of the Byzantine emperors to that particular district, and, as it appears, have fixed the previously wavering tradition to that spot for future times.[114]

I have, indeed, been in need of a learned foundation for what I have here said about the position of Elim, Raphidîm, and Mount Choreb or Sinai, but this I shall not be able to supply even in Thebes; it would, however, chiefly refer to the history of the earliest tradition before Justinian, which, even were it to agree in all its parts with the tradition of the present day, would still hardly suffice to decide anything conclusively. It seems to me that these questions will always remain unsolved, if the elements which were at my command—namely, the Mosaic account, a personal view of the locality, and acquaintance with the history of that period—should not be considered sufficient to explain them. We shall only obtain a correct idea of the whole of the external character of the event, by simultaneously observing these three most essential sides of the investigation, while, on the other hand, an endeavour to obtain an indifferent and equal confirmation of each individual feature in the account now under our consideration, must necessarily lead to the wide road of false criticism, which always sacrifices the comprehension of the whole, to the comprehension of the individual part.

by R. Lepsius 1845.

G. ERBKAM delᵗ.

Engraved by J. & C. Walker.]