Chapter XXVII: Part 27

The prediction of Taylor, quoted above, “that M. Mariette, though a young man, would yet see his name inscribed beside those of Burckhardt, Belzoni and Layard,” is in a fair way for fulfillment; for the finding of the wonderful tombs of Sakkara, and their magnificent sarcophagi, is, perhaps, the greatest discovery which has been made relative to the antiquities of Egypt, since the days of Belzoni himself. The tomb, a view of the entrance to which is given in the cut below, is situated in the desert near Sakkara, to the north-west of and near the pyramid, about four or five hours’ ride from Cairo, by way of Toura, where the Nile must be crossed. Monsieur Mariette, to whose knowledge and research this discovery is due, is employed by the French government. A passage in Strabo having led him to infer that a line of sphinxes led to the Serapeum, he commenced his search, under a firman from the viceroy of Egypt, about two years and a half since, in the moving sand-hills of Sakkara. He discovered the line of sphinxes, one of which had been found in 1832, by Signor Marucchi; but they not being in a straight direction, and turning abruptly at the entrance of the Serapeum, it was with difficulty they were traced. They were one hundred and forty in number, and sixteen feet apart. The whole avenue proved eleven hundred and twenty feet in length. At the termination were eleven Greek statues of Homer, Pindar, Solon, Lycurgus, Aristotle, and other poets, philosophers, and lawgivers of Greece. One sphinx, having the name of Apis inscribed upon it, was met with under a depth of sixty or seventy feet of sand: stone peacocks nine feet high, and colossal lions, were also found here. The tomb of Apis was now sought for, and discovered, after a whole year of labor, on the twelfth of November, 1851. From the avenue a mastaba, or bench, and passage two hundred and ninety feet long, leads to a pylon, the entrance of the great temple. The tomb runs from south to north, and the great gallery from east to west. This is about five hundred and twenty yards in length, and from four to five yards wide. The chambers are not formed throughout the whole length of the gallery, and some passages are altogether without them. The hieroglyphic inscriptions on the tomb are, in one instance, if not more, unfinished; and the doors erected at the entrance are too small to have allowed the passage of the sarcophagi, and must, therefore, have been built after the latter were introduced. The chambers are not opposite each other, but arranged alternately, in the usual manner of Egyptian places of sepulture. The appearance of this long gallery, when lighted up by numerous candles, receding in dim perspective into gloom—the massive sarcophagi, of polished granite, each in its chamber, looking tranquillity, is an imposing sight, as may be seen in the next following cut. They are of enormous size and weight: one, and that not the largest, has been estimated to weigh, including the lid, upward of sixty tuns. To have moved these and lowered them into their receptacles, which are some six feet below the floor of the gallery, in so confined a space, must have required a considerable amount of mechanical skill and power. In the walls are holes, apparently for the introduction of the ends of beams. The chambers may, however, have been filled with sand, the sarcophagus pushed in and gradually lowered by abstracting the sand. The under side of one of the sarcophagi is rounded, and it was kept steady by wooden blocks on each side. When these are removed it can be rocked by the hand. A groove, about two feet broad and two or three inches in depth, runs down the middle of the gallery. A wooden capstan was found near the tombs, and is supposed to have been used for moving the stones. The entrance is inclined. The tombs are excavated in a soft friable limestone, containing numerous small veins of gypsum, about half an inch in thickness. To prevent the roof from falling, it has been coated with flagstones, cemented to it by a gypseous cement; but, either by the hand of violence, or that of time, these have been detached, and have fallen to the ground, encumbering, and partially choking the galleries and rooms. The mortar, however, still adheres in several places to the walls, and projects where the joints of the stones have been. In one chamber is a self-sustained stone arch; another proof, if any were now necessary, that its construction was known to the ancients. This chamber contains a small sarcophagus, in which, probably, were the bones of a young bull. The bones of bulls have been found in several sarcophagi; but every one had been opened, and some heaped with stones; an eastern mark of contempt, probably the work of the Persians. At the entrance were numerous _ex voto_ offerings of inscribed tablets inserted in small recesses in the walls. There are also inscriptions, in the Demotic character, on the outer doorway. In some chambers are large recesses to the right and left of the tomb, which in one instance contained a large granite tablet with hieroglyphics. The number of sarcophagi already discovered is twenty-five.

These tombs merit the visit of all antiquaries and travelers passing through Egypt; and M. Mariette’s work describing them is looked for with anxiety by all _savans_. To his kindness and courtesy, which, as well as his hospitality, are well known, the public are indebted for the greater portion of this information. Near to Sakkara, on the site of Memphis, Hekekyan Bey has been making excavations connected with the geological investigations of the Nile valley, instituted at the request of Mr. Leonard Horner and the Geological Society of London, by the viceroy, who has very recently received from the English government, through Mr. Murray, a letter of thanks for his liberal aid to the cause of science.

A view of the great gallery of these tombs, as it appears when lighted up, is given on the next page.

THE SPHINX.

Before passing to the pyramids and ruins of Meroë in Ethiopia, let us notice the celebrated Sphinx, which stands near the great pyramids of Gizeh, and the enormous bulk of which attracts the attention of every traveler. Of all the monuments of Egypt, this, in many respects, is the most mysterious and impressive. It is cut out of the solid rock, and by some is supposed to have been the sepulcher of Amasis. It is more than sixty feet from the ground to the crown of the head; more than a hundred feet around the forehead; and nearly one hundred and fifty feet in length. The nose has been shamefully mutilated. “Though its proportions are colossal, its outline,” says Denon, “is pure and graceful; the expression mild, gracious, and tranquil; the character is African; but the mouth, the lips of which are thick, has a softness and delicacy of execution truly admirable; it seems real life and flesh. Art must have been at a high pitch when this monument was executed; for, if the head is deficient in what is called _style_, that is, in the straight and bold lines which give expression to the figures under which the Greeks have designated their deities, yet sufficient justice has been rendered to the fine simplicity and character of nature displayed in this figure.”

Thus far the description of Denon. But Taylor, who says of this monument that “there is nothing like it in the world,” adds, that “those travelers who pronounce its features to be negro in their character, are certainly very hasty in their conclusions. That it is an Egyptian head, is plainly evident, notwithstanding its mutilation. The type, however, is rather fuller and broader than is usual in Egyptian statues.” Who reared it, and for what purpose, and by what mighty enginery, is utterly unknown. But there it stands, “on the verge of the desert whose sands are heaped around it, and in advance of the three vast pyramids that form an immovable phalanx as if to guard it from destruction, looking out in unfathomable silence over the empty plain where once stood Memphis in the pride of the earlier Pharaohs, and where Cambyses battered down that pride with the recklessness of a barbarian invader. Once an altar stood before it, and a _dromos_ of crouching lions and other figures formed a fit approach to the gigantic symbol of Egypt deified. But now the sands drift in perpetually to hide all but the head, whose sublime repose neither the war-club of the Persian, nor tho fury of the sirocco has ever disturbed.”

RUINS AND PYRAMIDS OF MEROË.

Passing up the Nile to its great fork in about latitude seventeen degrees, we come to the wonderful ruins and pyramids of Meroë, in Ethiopia. “The discovery of these ruins,” says the well known traveler last quoted, “is of comparatively recent date; and it is only within a very short time that their true place and character in Ethiopian history have been satisfactorily established. Hoskins, Cailliaud and Ferlini were the first to direct the attention of antiquarians to this quarter, and the later and more complete researches of Lepsius leave room for little more to be discovered concerning them. It is remarkable that both Bruce and Burckhardt, who traveled by land from Berber to Shendy, failed to see the ruins, which must have been visible from the road they followed. The former, in fact, speaks of the broken pedestals, carved stones and pottery which are scattered over the plain, and sagely says, ‘It is impossible to avoid risking a guess that this is the ancient city of Meroë;’ but he does not mention the groups of pyramids which are so conspicuous a feature in the landscape. Our path led over a plain covered with thorny shrubs at first, but afterward hard black gravel, and we had not gone more than a mile before the raïs pointed out the pyramids of the ancient Ethiopian city. I knew it only from its mention in history, and had never read any description of its remains; consequently I was surprised to see before me, in the vapory morning air, what appeared to be the ruins of pylæ and porticos, as grand and lofty as those of Karnak. Rising between us and the mountains, they had an imposing effect, and I approached them with excited anticipations. As advanced, however, and the morning vapors melted away, I found that they derived much of their apparent hight from the hill upon which they are built, and that, instead of being the shattered parts of one immense temple, they were a group of separate pyramids, standing amid the ruins of others which have been completely destroyed.

“We reached them after a walk of about four miles. They stand upon a narrow, crescent-shaped hill, which rises forty or fifty feet from the plain, presenting its convex front to the Nile, while toward the east its hollow curve embraces a small valley lying between it and the mountain range. Its ridge is crowned with a long line of pyramids, standing so close to each other that their bases almost meet, but presenting no regular plan or association, except in the direction of their faces. None of them retains its apex, and they are all more or less ruined, though two are perfect to within a few courses of the top. I climbed one of the highest, from which I could overlook the whole group, as well as another cluster, which crowned the summit of a low ridge at the foot of the mountains opposite. Of those among which I stood, there were sixteen, in different degrees of ruin, besides the shapeless stone-heaps of many more. They are all built of fine red sandstone, in regular courses of masonry, the spaces of which are not filled, or cased, as in the Egyptian pyramids, except at the corners, which are covered with a narrow hem or molding, in order to give a smooth outline. The stones are about eighteen inches high, and the recession of each course varies from two to four inches, so that the hight of the structure is always much greater than the breadth of the base. A peculiarity of these pyramids is, that the sides are not straight but curved lines, of different degrees of convexity, and the breadth of the courses of stone is adjusted with the utmost nicety, so as to produce this form. They are small, compared with the enormous piles of Gizeh and Dashoor, but singularly graceful and elegant in appearance. Not one of the group is more than seventy feet in hight, nor when complete could have exceeded one hundred. All, or nearly all, have a small chamber attached to the exterior, exactly against the center of their eastern sides, but no passage leading into the interior; and from the traces of Dr. Lepsius’s labors, by which I plainly saw that he had attempted in vain to find an entrance, it is evident that they are merely solid piles of masonry, and that, if they were intended tombs, the bodies were deposited in the outer chambers. Some of these chambers are entire, except the roof, and their walls are profusely sculptured with hieroglyphics, somewhat blurred and worn down, from the effect of the summer rains. Their entrances resembled the doorways of temples, on a miniature scale, and the central stones of two of them were sculptured with the sacred winged globe. I saw on the jamb of another, a figure of the god Horus. The chambers were quite small, and not high enough to allow me to stand upright. The sculptures have a very different character from those in the tombs of Thebes, and their resemblance to those of the Ptolemaic period was evident at the first glance. The only cartouches of monarchs which I found were so obliterated that I could not identify them; but the figure of one of the kings, grasping in one hand the hair of a group of captives, while with the other he lifts a sword to slay them, bears a striking resemblance to that of Ptolemy Euergetes, on the pylon of the temple at Edfou. Many of the stones in the vast heaps which lie scattered over the hills, are covered with sculptures. I found on some the winged globe and scarabeüs, while others retained the scroll or fillet which usually covers the sloping corners of a pylon. On the northern part of the hill I found several blocks of limestone, which exhibited a procession of sculptured figures brilliantly colored.

“The last structure on the southern extremity of the hill, is rather a tower than a pyramid, consisting of a high base or foundation, upon which is raised a square building, the corners presenting a very slight slope toward the top, which is covered with ruins, indicating that there was originally another and narrower story upon it. When complete, it must have borne considerable resemblance to the Assyrian towers, the remains of which are found at Nineveh. On this part of the hill there are many small detached chambers, all facing the east, and the remains of a large building. Here Lepsius appears to have expended most of his labors; and the heaps of stone and rubbish he has left behind him, prevent one from getting a very clear idea of the original disposition of the buildings. He has quarried one of the pyramids down to its base, without finding any chamber within or pit beneath it. My raïs, who was at a loss to comprehend the object of my visit, spoke of Lepsius as a great Frank astrologer, who had kept hundreds of the people at work for many days, and at last found in the earth a multitude of chickens and pigeons, all of solid gold. He then gave the people a great deal of backsheesh and went away, taking the golden fowls with him. The most interesting object he has revealed is a vaulted room, about twenty feet long, which the raïs pointed out as the place where the treasures were found. It is possible that he here referred to the discoveries made about twenty years ago by Ferlini, who excavated a great quantity of rings and other ornaments, Greek and Roman, as well as Ethiopian, which are now in the museum at Berlin. The ceiling of this vault is on the true principle of the arch, with a keystone in the center, which circumstance, as well as the character of the sculptures, would seem to fix the age of the pyramids at a little more than two thousand years. I took a sketch of this remarkable cluster of ruins from their northern end, and afterward another from the valley below, whence each pyramid appears distinct and separate, no one covering the other. The raïs and sailors were puzzled what to make of my inspection of the place, but finally concluded that I hoped to find a few golden pigeons, which the Frank astrologer had not carried away. I next visited the eastern group, which consists of ten pyramids, more or less dilapidated, and the ruined foundations of six or eight more. The largest, which I ascended, consists of thirty-five courses of stone, and is about fifty-three feet in hight, eight or ten feet of the apex having been hurled down. Each side of the apex is seventeen paces, or about forty-two feet long, and the angle of ascent is consequently much greater than in the pyramids of Egypt. On the slope of the hill are the substructions of two or three large buildings, of which sufficient remains to show the disposition of the chambers and the location of the doorways. Toward the south, near where the valley inclosed between the two groups opens upon the plain, are the remains of other pyramids and buildings, and some large, fortress-like ruins are seen on the summits of the mountains to the east. I would willingly have visited them, but the wind was blowing fresh, and the raïs was impatient to get back to his vessel. Many of the stones of the pyramids are covered with rude attempts at sculpturing camels and horses; no doubt by the Arabs, for they resemble a school-boy’s first drawings on a slate; straight sticks for legs, squares for bodies, and triangles for humps.

“Leaving the ruins to the company of the black goats that were browsing on the dry grass, growing in bunches at their eastern base, I walked to another group of pyramids, which lay a mile and a half to the south-west, toward the Nile. As we approached them, a herd of beautiful gray gazelles started from among the stones and bounded away into the desert. ‘These were the tents of the poor people,’ said the raïs, pointing to the pyramids; ‘the Frank found no golden pigeons here.’ They were, in fact, smaller and more dilapidated than the others. Some had plain burial chambers attached to their eastern sides, but the sculptures were few and insignificant. There were sixteen in all, more or less ruined. Scattering mounds, abounding with fragments of bricks and building stones, extended from these ruins nearly to the river’s bank, a distance of more than two miles; and the foundations of many other pyramids might be seen among them. The total number of pyramids in a partial state of preservation, (some being nearly perfect, while a few retained only two or three of the lower courses,) which I counted on the site of Meroë, was _forty-two_. Besides these, I noticed the traces of forty or fifty others, which had been wholly demolished. The entire number, however, of which Meroë could boast, in its prime, was _one hundred and ninety-six_. The mounds near the river, which cover an extent of between one and two miles, point out the site of the city, the capital of the old hierarchy of Meroë, and the pyramids are no doubt the tombs of its kings and priests. It is rather singular that the city has been so completely destroyed, as the principal spoilers of Egypt, the Persians, never penetrated into Ethiopia, and there is no evidence of the stones having been used to any extent by the Arabs, as building materials.

“The examination of Meroë has solved the doubtful question of an Ethiopian civilization anterior to that of Egypt. Hoskins and Cailliaud, who attributed a great antiquity to the ruins, were misled by the fact, discovered by Lepsius, that the Ethiopian monarchs adopted as their own, and placed upon their tombs the nomens of the earlier Pharaohs. It is now established beyond a doubt, that, so far from being the oldest, these are the _latest_ remains of Egyptian art; their inferiority displays its decadence, and not the rude, original type, whence it sprang. Starting from Memphis, where not only the oldest Egyptian, but the oldest human records yet discovered, are found, the era of civilization becomes later, as you ascend the Nile. In Nubia, there are traces of Thothmes and Amunoph III., or about fifteen centuries before the Christian era; at Napata, the ancient capital of Ethiopia, we can not get beyond King Tirhaka, eight centuries later; while at Meroë, there is no evidence which can fix the date of the pyramids earlier than the first, or at furthest, the second century before Christ. Egypt, therefore, was not civilized from Ethiopia, but Ethiopia from Egypt. The sculptures at Meroë also establish the important fact that the ancient Ethiopians, though of a darker complexion than the Egyptians, (as they are in fact represented, in _Egyptian_ sculpture,) were, like them, an offshoot of the great Caucasian race. Whether they were originally emigrants from northern India and the regions about Cashmere, as the Egyptians are supposed to have been, or, like the Beni Koreish at a later period, crossed over from the Arabian peninsula, is not so easily determined. The theory of Pococke and other scholars, based on the presumed antiquity of Meroë, that here was the first dawning on African soil of that earliest Indian civilization, which afterward culminated at Memphis and Thebes, is overthrown but we have what is of still greater significance, the knowledge that the highest civilization, in every age of the world, has been developed by the race to which we belong.

“I walked slowly back to the boat, over the desolate plain, striving to create from those shapeless piles of ruin the splendor of which they were once a part. The sun, and the wind, and the mountains, and the Nile, were what they had ever been; but where the kings and priests of Meroë walked in the pomp of their triumphal processions, a poor, submissive peasant knelt before me with a gourd full of goat’s milk; and if I had asked him when that plain had been inhabited, he would have answered me, like Chidhar, the prophet: ‘As thou seest it now, so has it been forever!’”

PYRAMIDS AND RUINS OF MERAWE.

There are other pyramids and ruins in Ethiopia that would be worthy of extended notice, but that they are so far surpassed in number and magnificence by those already described. The principal of these are found at Merawe, the former capital of Darshygeea, to the north-west of Meroë, where the Nile, flowing south-west, reaches the frontier of Dongola. This Merawe must not be confounded with Meroë, the ruins of which have just been described. The identity of the sounds of the names, did, indeed, at first deceive antiquarians, who supposed the temples and pyramids in this neighborhood to have belonged to the capital of the old hierarchy of Meroë; but it is now satisfactorily established that they mark the site of Napata, the capital of Ethiopia up to the time of the Cæsars. It was the limit of the celebrated expedition of the Roman soldiers, under Petronius. Djebel Berkel, at whose base the principal remains are found, is in latitude eighteen degrees, thirty-five minutes, or thereabouts.

As the traveler already quoted, rose in the morning, to go over to the mountain and the ruins at its base, “I was,” says he, “enchanted with the picture which the shores presented. The air was filled with a light, silvery vapor, (a characteristic of sultry weather in Africa,) softening the deep, rich color of the landscape. The eastern bank was one bower of palms, standing motionless, in perfect groups, above the long, sloping banks of beans in blossom. Such grace and glory, such silence and repose, I thought I had never before seen in the vegetable world. Opposite, the ruined palaces of the old Shygheean kings, and the mud and stone hovels of modern Merawe, rose in picturesque piles above the river bank and below the red sandstone bluffs of the Nubian desert, which overhung them and poured the sand through deep rents and fissures upon their very roofs. The mosque, with a tall, circular minaret, stood embowered in a garden of date-palms, under one of the highest bluffs. Up the river, which stretched glittering into the distance, the forest of trees shut out the view of the desert, except Djebel Berkel, which stood high and grand above them; the morning painting its surface with red lights and purple shadows. Over the misty horizon of the river rose a single conical peak, far away. The sky was a pale, sleepy blue, and all that I saw seemed beautiful dream-pictures, everywhere grace, beauty, splendor of coloring, steeped in elysian repose. It is impossible to describe the glory of that passage across the river. It paid me for all the hardships of the desert.

“When we touched the other shore and mounted the little donkeys we had taken across with us, the ideal character of the scene disappeared, but left a reality picturesque and poetic enough. We rode under a cluster of ruined stone buildings, one of which occupied considerable space, rising pylon-like, to the hight of thirty feet. The shekh informed me that it had been the palace of a Shygheean king, before the Turks got possession of the country. It was wholly dilapidated, but a few Arab families were living in the stone dwellings which surround it. These clusters of shattered buildings extend for more than a mile along the river, and are all now known as Merawe. Our road led between fields of ripening wheat, rolling in green billows before the breeze, on one side, and on the other, not more than three yards distant, the naked sandstone walls of the desert, where a blade of grass never grew. Over the wheat, along the bank of the Nile, rose a long forest of palms, so thickly ranged that the eye could scarcely penetrate their dense, cool shade; while on the other hand the glaring sand-hills showed their burning shoulders above the bluffs. It was a most violent contrast, and yet, withal, there was a certain harmony in these opposite features. We now approached the mountain, which is between three and four miles from the town. It rises from out the sands of the Nubian desert, to the hight of five hundred feet, presenting a front completely perpendicular toward the river. It is inaccessible on all sides except the north, which in one place has an inclination of forty-five degrees. Its scarred and shattered walls of naked sandstone stand up stern and sublime in the midst of the hot and languid landscape. As we approached, a group of pyramids appeared on the brow of a sand-hill to the left, and I discerned at the base of the mountain several isolated pillars, the stone-piles of ruined pylons, and other remains of temples. The first we reached was at the south-eastern corner of the mountain. Amid heaps of sandstone blocks and disjointed segments of pillars, five columns of an exceedingly old form still point out the court of a temple, whose adyta are hewn within the mountain. They are not more than ten feet high and three in diameter, circular, and without capital or abacus, unless a larger block, rudely sculptured with the outlines of a Typhon-head, may be considered as such. The doorway is hurled down and defaced, but the cartouches of kings may still be traced on the fragments. There are three chambers in the rock, the walls of which are covered with sculptures, for the most part representing the Egyptian divinities. The temple was probably dedicated to Typhon, or the Evil Principle, as one of the columns is still faced with a caryatid of the short, plump, big-mouthed and bat-eared figure, which elsewhere represents him. Over the entrance is the sacred winged globe, and the ceiling shows the marks of brilliant coloring. The temple is not remarkable for its architecture, and can only be interesting in an antiquarian point of view. It bears some resemblance in its general style to the temple-palace of Goorneh, at Thebes.

“The eastern base of the mountain, which fronts the Nile, is strewn with hewn blocks, fragments of capitals, immense masses of dark bluish-gray granite, and other remains, which prove that a large and magnificent temple once stood there. The excavations made by Lepsius and others have uncovered the substructions sufficiently to show the general plan of two buildings. The main temple was at the north-eastern corner of the mountain, under the highest point of its perpendicular crags. The remains of its small propylons stand in advance, about two hundred yards from the rock, going toward which, you climb the mound formed by the ruins of a large pylon, at the foot of which are two colossal ram-headed sphinxes of blue granite, buried to their necks in the sand. Beyond this is a portico and pillared court, followed by other courts and labyrinths of chambers. Several large blocks of granite, all more or less broken and defaced, lie on the surface or half quarried from the rubbish. They are very finely polished and contain figures of kings, evidently arranged in genealogical order, each accompanied with his name. The shekh had a great deal to tell me of the Franks, who dug up all the place, and set the people to work at hauling away the lions and rams, which they carried off in ships. I looked in vain for the celebrated pedestal; it has probably become the spoil of Lepsius.

“It was now noon, and only the pyramids remained to be seen on that side of the river. The main group is about a third of a mile from the mountain, on the ridge of a sand-hill. There are six pyramids, nearly entire, and the foundations of others. They are almost precisely similar to those of the real Meroë, each having a small exterior chamber on the eastern side. Like the latter, they are built of sandstone blocks, only filled at the corners, which are covered with a hem or molding; the sides of two of them are convex. On all of them the last eight or ten courses next the top have been smoothed to follow the slope of the side. It was no doubt intended to finish them all in this manner. One of them has also the corner molding rounded, so as to form a scroll, like that on the cornice of many of the Egyptian temples. They are not more than fifty feet in hight, with very narrow bases. One of them, indeed, seems to be the connecting link between the pyramid and the obelisk. Nearer the river is an older pyramid, though no regular courses of stone are to be seen any longer. These sepulchral remains, however, are much inferior to those of Meroë. The oldest names found at Napata are those of Amenoph III. and Remeses II. (1630 B. C. and 1400 B. C.) both of whom subjected Nubia to their rule. The remains of Ethiopian art, however, go no further than King Tirkaka, 730 B. C.—the Ethiopian monarch, who, in the time of Hezekiah, marched into Palestine to meet Sennacherib, king of Assyria. Napata, therefore, occupies an intermediate place in history, between Thebes and Meroë, showing the gradual southward progress of Egyptian art and civilization. It is a curious fact that the old religion of Egypt should have been here met face to face, and overthrown, by Christianity, which, starting in the mountains of Abyssinia, followed the course of the Nile northward. In the sixth century of our era, Ethiopia and Nubia were converted to Christianity and remained thus until the fourteenth century, when they fell beneath the sword of Islam.

“The next morning, the shekh proposed going with me to the remains of a temple, half an hour distant, on the eastern bank of the river. After walking a mile and a half over the sands, which have here crowded the vegetation to the very water’s edge, we came to a broad mound of stones, broken bricks and pottery, with a foundation wall of heavy limestone blocks, along the western side. There were traces of doors and niches, and on the summit of the mound the pedestals of columns similar to those of El Berkel. From this place commenced a waste of ruins, extending for nearly two miles toward the north-west, while the breadth, from east to west, was about equal. For the most part, the buildings were entirely concealed by the sand, which was filled with fragments of pottery and glass, and with shining pebbles of jasper, agate and chalcedony. Half a mile further, we struck on another mound, of greater extent, though the buildings were entirely level with the earth. The foundations of pillars were abundant, and fragments of circular limestone blocks lay crumbling to pieces in the rubbish. The most interesting object was a mutilated figure of blue granite, of which only a huge pair of wings could be recognized. The shekh said that all the Frank travelers who came there broke off a piece and carried it away with them. I did not follow their example. Toward the river were many remains of crude brick walls, and the ground was strewn with pieces of excellent hard-burnt bricks. The sand evidently conceals many interesting objects. I saw in one place, where it had fallen in, the entrance to a chamber, wholly below the surface. The Arabs were at work in various parts of the plain, digging up the sand, which they filled in baskets and carried away on donkeys. The shekh said it contained salt, and was very good to make wheat grow, whence I inferred that the earth is nitrous. We walked for an hour or two over the ruins, finding everywhere the evidence that a large capital had once stood on the spot. The bits of water-jars which we picked up were frequently painted and glazed with much skill. The soil was in many places wholly composed of the debris of the former dwellings. This was, without doubt, the ancient Napata, of which Djebel Berkel was only the necropolis. Napata must have been one of the greatest cities of ancient Africa, after Thebes, Memphis and Carthage. I felt a peculiar interest in wandering over the site of that half-forgotten capital, whereof the ancient historians knew little more than we. That so little is said by them in relation to it is somewhat surprising, notwithstanding its distance from the Roman frontier.”

EGYPTIAN TEMPLES AND MONUMENTS.

Returning from Ethiopia to Egypt, we find not a few of its monuments and temples worthy of our notice as wonderful testimonies to the art and wealth of their ancient builders.

POMPEY’S PILLAR AND CLEOPATRA’S NEEDLE.

Passing out, toward the south, from modern Alexandria, one of the first objects that greets the eye of the traveler, is Pompey’s pillar, which rears its stupendous mass of polished granite in solitary grandeur, a monument of buried empires and of nations that have passed away. Though it now stands alone, it is supposed to have been but one of the four hundred stately columns of the Serapeum as it once stood in all its grandeur. “This pillar,” says Thompson, “is the one solitary monument of the old city upon its southern front, and answers to the one standing obelisk that is its solitary monument on the north. Of its origin, history is as silent as the mummy of Belzoni’s tomb; but there is no doubt that ‘_Pompey’s_ pillar is really a misnomer;’ for the inscription ‘shows it to have been erected by Publius, the prefect of Egypt, in honor of Diocletian,’ who subdued a revolt at Alexandria by capturing the city, A. D. 296. But whether it was then first hewn from the quarry, or was transported from some decaying temple up the Nile, the Greek lettering does not inform us. If the latter, (which, considering the decline of art and the pilfering propensities of the Romans, is probable,) then this now lonely sentinel, an Egyptian column with a Greek inscription to a Roman emperor, has witnessed in turn the decay of Egypt, of Greece, and of Rome, upon the soil where it still disputes with Time the empire of the past. To the reader of Gibbon, it may seem strange that a monument should have been reared at Alexandria in honor of a conqueror, who, during a siege of eight months, wasted the city by the sword and by fire, and who, when it finally capitulated and implored his clemency, caused it to feel ‘the full extent of his severity,’ and destroyed ‘thousands of its citizens in a promiscuous slaughter.’ The fact may serve to show the worthlessness of such monuments as testimonials to character, or as expressions of public esteem. But whatever may be its history or its associations, one can not look upon this column without a feeling of astonishment and awe. Outside of the modern city walls and some six hundred yards to the south of them, away from the present homes of men, but on an eminence that overlooks the entire city, and in striking contrast with the meager, attenuated style of its present architecture, stands this stupendous column of red granite, ninety-nine feet in hight by thirty in circumference, its shaft an elegant monolith measuring seventy-three feet between the pedestal and the capital. It marks the site of an ancient stadium, and as some conjecture, of the gymnasium, which was surrounded with majestic porticos of granite.”

From Pompey’s pillar, to Cleopatra’s needles, is a distance of about a mile through the city in a north-easterly direction. “These obelisks,” says Thompson, “have no more relation to Cleopatra, than the pillar has to Pompey. Their hieroglyphics, according to Wilkinson and Lepsius, date back as far as the exodus from Egypt; and they were brought to Alexandria from the city of Heliopolis, or _On_, about a hundred miles to the south. Each ‘_needle_’ is a solid block of red granite, about seventy feet high, and nearly eight feet in diameter at the base. How such huge blocks were cut from the quarry, transported hundreds of miles, and erected upon their pedestals, is a mystery not solved by anything yet discovered of ancient mechanic arts. Only one of the obelisks is standing. The other was taken down to be transported to England, but now lies half buried in the mud and sand. On one side of the standing obelisk the hieroglyphics are distinctly legible, but on the northern or seaward side they are much defaced by the action of the weather. It stands upon the edge of the great harbor, in a line with the rock of Pharos that forms the extreme northern point of the horseshoe port.

“Besides the pillar and the needles nothing remains to testify the former splendor of Alexandria; a capital that once vied with Rome, containing a population equal to that of New York, (three hundred thousand freemen and as many slaves,) and that so late as the seventh century, according to the testimony of Amrou, its Saracenic conqueror, contained ‘four thousand palaces, four thousand baths, four hundred theaters, twelve thousand shops for the sale of vegetables, and forty thousand tributary Jews.’ A few ruins are pointed out, but these are fast disappearing with the ravages of time. Its name is the only memorial of its founder; and the long range of catacombs along the shore to the west of the city, the sole vestige of its ancient population. So rapid was the growth of the city, that at the commencement of the Christian era, it was ‘second only to Rome itself,’ and ‘comprehended a circumference of fifteen miles’ within its walls. It was a great seat of commerce. ‘Idleness was unknown. Either sex, and every age, was engaged in the pursuits of industry;’ the blowing of glass, the weaving of linen, manufacturing the papyrus, or conducting the lucrative trade of the port. Alexander, fresh from the conquest of Tyre, boasted that he would here build an emporium of commerce surpassing that which he had ruined, and thus would recreate in his own image the world he had destroyed. The site of Alexandria, more felicitous than that of Tyre, promised to realize his ambitious dream. Its gates ‘looked out on the gilded barges of the Nile, on fleets at sea under full sail, on a harbor that sheltered navies, and a light-house that was the mariner’s star, and the wonder of the world.’ But neither the felicity of its location, nor the enterprise of its Ptolemaic rulers, nor the wealth of its commerce, nor the learning that gathered to its schools the students of art, of philosophy, of medicine, of science, and of religion, could withstand the march of empire from Asia to Europe, nor the laws of trade that followed in its track.”

The present population of Alexandria is less than a hundred thousand; a mixture of all the oriental races, with many Europeans and Jews. In passing through its narrow and dirty streets, now occupied with a motley and poverty-stricken populace; in traversing the villages of hovels within its walls, where the Arab lies down with his sheep, his goat, his dog, and his donkey, all in the mud inclosure of a few feet square, which must be entered by stooping; and in climbing the huge mounds that are said to cover the ancient capital, it is difficult to realize that here once dwelt the hundred thousand Jews, for whom the seventy made their celebrated Greek version of the Old Testament; that here the eloquent Apollos was born, and the learned Athanasius conducted his theological controversies; that here Theodosius, by imperial edict, destroyed the temple of Serapis, and publicly established Christianity in place of the outcast divinities of the Egyptian Greeks; that here was a school to which the sages of Greece resorted for instruction in philosophy, science and letters, and where Jewish rabbins and Christian apologists vied with Greek dialecticians in the various pursuits of learning; and that here was a library of seven hundred thousand manuscript volumes, a British museum or a Smithsonian institute, boasting the originals or the duplicates of many of the most valuable works of the then current literature, and which, after the accidental destruction of a part of it in the insurrection against Julius Cæsar, and the willful destruction of another portion in the sanguinary religious wars under Theodosius, yet contained enough of written papyrus to heat for six months the four thousand baths of the city, under the summary decree of Omar: “If these writings of the Greeks agree with the book of God, they are useless, and need not be preserved; if they disagree, they are pernicious, and ought to be destroyed.” It is difficult amid such surroundings, to realize that here Cæsar and Antony dallied with the charms of Cleopatra. It is difficult to realize that where now bigotry, fanaticism and superstition hold sway over an ignorant and degraded people, were schools of theology, and learned fathers, and astute controversialists of the early Christian church; that here Christianity triumphed over paganism in popular tumults backed by imperial decrees; that here Mark preached the gospel of the kingdom where the Ethiopian eunuch had preceded him with the tidings of the great salvation. And yet that old Alexandria, which began to be in the fourth century before Christ, and of all whose palaces and temples and monuments only two columns are now standing, was the youngest of Egyptian cities, and was built by the conqueror of Egypt when Thebes, and Memphis, and the university city of Heliopolis, were already in their decline. Such is the antiquity that meets us at the threshold of the land of the Nile.

THE CATACOMBS OF ALEXANDRIA.

In connection with Alexandria, it is in place to speak of its _cryptæ_ or catacombs, a range of primeval sepulchers, on which a prodigious amount of labor must have been bestowed. They are situated about half a league along the shore, to the westward of the modern city; and their intricacy is such, that formerly the guides would not enter them without a clew of thread, which they unwound as they went in, so that by following it on their return, they might secure their safe retreat. Dr. Clarke is very particular in his description of these subterranean abodes of the dead; and from his interesting narrative the following particulars have been gathered.

The original entrance to them is now closed, and is externally concealed from observation. The only place by which admittance to the interior is practicable, is a small aperture made through the soft and sandy rock, barely large enough to admit a person upon his hands and knees. Here, sometimes, the traveler has encountered jackals, escaping from the interior when alarmed by any person approaching; on which account, a gun or pistol used often to be discharged before entering, to prevent any sally of this kind. “Having passed this aperture,” says Dr. Clarke, “with lighted tapers, we arrived, by gradual descent, in a square chamber, almost filled with earth: to the right and left of this are smaller apartments, chiseled in the rock; each of these contains on either side of it, except that of the entrance, a _soros_ for the reception of a mummy; but, owing to the accumulation of sand in all of them, this part of the catacombs can not be examined without great difficulty. Leaving the first chamber, we found a second of still larger dimensions, having four cryptæ with _soroi_, two on either side, and a fifth at its extremity toward the south-east. From hence, penetrating toward the west, we passed through another forced aperture, which conducted us into a square chamber, without any receptacles for dead bodies; thence, pursuing a south-western course, we persevered in effecting a passage, over heaps of sand, from one chamber to another, admiring everywhere the same extraordinary effects of labor and ingenuity, until we found ourselves bewildered with so many passages, that our clew of thread became of more importance than we at first believed it would prove to be. At last we reached the stately antechamber of the principal sepulcher, which had every appearance of being intended for a regal repository. It was of a circular form, surmounted by a beautiful dome, hewn out of the rock, with exquisite perfection, and the purest simplicity of workmanship. In a few of the chambers we observed pilasters, resembling, in their style of architecture, the Doric, with architraves, as in some of the most ancient sepulchers near Jerusalem; but they were all integral parts of the solid rock. The dome covering the circular chamber was without ornament; the entrance to it being from the north-west. Opposite to this entrance was a handsome square crypt with three _soroi_; and to the right and left were other cryptæ, similarly surrounded with places for the dead. Hereabouts we observed the remarkable symbol, sculptured in relief, of an orb with extending wings, evidently intended to represent the subterraneous sun, or _sol inferus_, as mentioned by Macrobius. We endeavored to penetrate further toward the south-west and south, and found that another complete wing of the vast fabric extended in those directions, but the labor of the research was excessive.

“The cryptæ upon the south-west side corresponded with those which we have described toward the north-east. In the middle, between the two, a long range of chambers extended from the central and circular shrine toward the north-west; and in this direction appears to have been the principal and original entrance. Proceeding toward it we came to a large room in the middle of the fabric, between the supposed Serapeum and the main outlet, or portal, toward the sea. Here the workmanship was very elaborate; and to the right and left were chambers, with receptacles ranged parallel to each other. Further on, in the same direction, is a passage with galleries and spacious apartments on either side; probably the chambers for embalming the dead, or those belonging to the priests, who constantly officiated in the Serapeum. In the front is a kind of vestibulum, or porch; but it is exceedingly difficult to ascertain precisely the nature of the excavation toward the main entrance, from the manner in which it is now choked with earth and rubbish. If this part were laid open, it is possible that something further would be known as to the design of the undertaking; and, at all events, one of the most curious of the antiquities of Egypt would then be exposed to the investigation it merits. Having passed about six hours in exploring, to the best of our ability, these gloomy mansions, we regained, by means of our clew, the aperture by which we had entered, and quitted them forever.”

BATHING IN THE EAST.

Before leaving Alexandria, it may be interesting to glance at the process and luxury of oriental bathing, so often described by travelers in Turkey and Egypt. The narrative is from Taylor, who, though deceived by his dragoman as to the excellence of the bath compared with others which he might have visited, gives us a vivid picture of the process the bather undergoes, and the full comfort that follows it. He says, “The bath to which he conducted us, he declared was the finest in Alexandria, the most superb in all the orient, but it did not at all accord with our ideas of eastern luxury. Moreover, the bath-keeper was his intimate friend, and would bathe us as no Christians were ever bathed before. One fact Ibrahim kept to himself, which was, that his intimate friend and he shared the spoils of our inexperience. We were conducted to a one-story building, of very unprepossessing exterior. As we entered the low, vaulted entrance, my ears were saluted with a dolorous, groaning sound, which I at first conjectured to proceed from the persons undergoing the operation, but which I afterward ascertained was made by a wheel turned by a buffalo, employed in raising water from the well. In a sort of basement hall, smelling of soap-suds, and with a large tank of dirty water in the center, we were received by the bath-keeper, who showed us into a room containing three low divans with pillows. Here we disrobed, and Ibrahim, who had procured a quantity of napkins, enveloped our heads in turbans and swathed our loins in a simple Adamite garment. Heavy wooden clogs were attached to our feet, and an animated bronze statue led the way through gloomy passages, sometimes hot and steamy, sometimes cold and soapy, and redolent of anything but the spicy odors of Araby the blest, to a small vaulted chamber, lighted by a few apertures in the ceiling. The moist heat was almost suffocating; hot water flowed over the stone floor, and the stone benches we sat upon were somewhat cooler than kitchen stoves. The bronze individual left us, and very soon, sweating at every pore, we began to think of the three Hebrews in the furnace. Our comfort was not increased by the groaning sound which we still heard, and by seeing, through a hole in the door, five or six naked figures lying motionless along the edge of a steaming vat, in the outer room. Presently our statue returned with a pair of coarse hair-gloves on his hands. He snatched off our turbans, and then, seizing one of my friends by the shoulder as if he had been a sheep, began a sort of rasping operation upon his back. This process, varied occasionally by a dash of scalding water, was extended to each of our three bodies, and we were then suffered to rest awhile. A course of soap-suds followed, which was softer and more pleasant in its effect, except when he took us by the hair, and holding back our heads, scrubbed our faces most lustily, as if there were no such things as eyes, noses and mouths. By this time we had reached such a salamandrine temperature that the final operation of a dozen pailfuls of hot water poured over the head, was really delightful. After a plunge in a seething tank, we were led back to our chamber and enveloped in loose muslin robes. Turbans were bound on our heads and we lay on the divans to recover from the languor of the bath. The change produced by our new costume was astonishing. The stout German became a Turkish mollah, the young Smyrniote a picturesque Persian, and I—I scarcely know what, but, as my friends assured me, a much better Moslem than Frank. Cups of black coffee and pipes of inferior tobacco completed the process, and in spite of the lack of cleanliness and superabundance of fleas, we went forth lighter in body, and filled with a calm content which nothing seemed able to disturb.”

EGYPTIAN TEMPLES, MONUMENTS, &C.