Chapter XI: Letter X

AT THE RUINS OF THE LABYRINTH. _May 31, 1843._

After my return to the camp at Saqâra, I required but three days to finish our labours there. I made a last visit to the ruins of ancient Memphis, the plan of which had, meanwhile, been completed by Erbkam; a few interesting discoveries closed our examination.

On the 19th of May we at length departed with twenty camels, two dromedaries, thirteen donkies, and a horse. As I am speaking of camels and dromedaries, it may not be superfluous to remark what is here understood by those terms; for in Europe, an inaccurate, or at least negligent distinction is made between both, which is not known here. We call Camel what the Frenchman names _dromadaire_, and dromedary (Trampelthier, trampling beast) what he names _chameau_. The first has one hump, the other two. Thus Dromedaries or _chameaux_ could not be spoken of at all in Egypt, for there are no bi-humped animals, although they occur now and then in single-humped families. In Syria and Farther Asia, there would again be no camels or _dromadaires_; at least the single-humped animals are very rare. In fact, it is very immaterial, and taken by itself, should hardly warrant the distinction of another species, whether or not the fat hump on the back is divided into two. At the present time the orientals make no distinction between them, and the ancients evidently did the same, for the single-humped animals do not carry more easily than the others, nor do they run faster, nor does the rider sit between the two humps more securely than on one, for these are as entirely built over by the saddle as the single hump. However, a great distinction is made, though not a naturalistic one, between the strong and unwieldy burthen camel, commonly called _gémel_, and the younger, more active, thoroughly-broken riding camel, which is called _heggîn_, because the Mekka pilgrims (_hágg_, pl. _heggâg_) have a great estimation for good riding animals. An Arab takes it as ill when any one calls his slender, well-bred camel a _gémel_, as one would feel angry at having one’s thorough-bred horse called a plough-horse or dray-horse. The meaning, indeed, of _dromedarius_ or _camelus dromas_, χάμηλος δρομάς with the ancients, was nothing more, as the name proves, than a runner, of the lighter, more rideable race.

As the latter are far more expensive, it is often difficult to obtain even a few of the better kind of animals from the Arabs who are bound to produce them; the greater part of our company was obliged to be contented with the usual beasts of burthen; mine was, however, passable, and was at least called _heggîn_ by the Arabs.

I did not await the general break up of the camp, at which our Sheîkh of Saqâra and he of Mitrahinneh were present, but rode forward with Erbkam along the desert. On the way he took the plan of a pyramid with its neighbourhood, that I had remarked on a former occasion. We have now noted in all sixty-seven pyramids, almost twice as many as are found in Perring. The topographical plans of Erbkam are indeed a treasure.

Shortly after sundown we came to the first pyramid of Lisht, where we found our camp already pitched. Next morning I had the caravan broken up early, and stayed behind with Erbkam in order to employ ourselves in the examination and surveying of the two pyramids, somewhat apart from each other, in this alone-standing tomb-field. At 2 o’clock we followed, and arrived about 7 o’clock in the evening at our tents, which were erected on the south side of the stately pyramid of Meidûm. To the pyramid of Illahûn was another short day’s journey, and from hence,[28] through the mouth of the Faiûm, about three hours. We set out very late. I left Erbkam and Ernst Weidenbach behind in order to bring their researches on paper, and rode off with a couple of servants half an hour before the train, in order to reach the labyrinth by another and more interesting way along the Bahr Jussuf, and to fix upon a place for the encampment.

Here we are since the 31st of May, settled at the south side of the pyramid of Mœris, upon the ruins of the labyrinth. That we are fully justified in employing these terms, I was quite sure, as soon as I had surveyed the locality rapidly. I did not think that it would be so easy to determine this.

As soon as Erbkam had measured off a small plan and had committed it to paper, I had workmen got together by the Mudhir of Medînet el Faiûm, the governor of the province, trenches drawn through the ruins and excavations made in four or five places at once; one hundred and eight people were at work to-day: these I allow to encamp for the night on the north side of the pyramid, with the exception of the people of Howara, the nearest village, who return home every night. They have their foremen, and bread is brought to them; they are counted every morning, and paid every evening; each man receives a piastre, about two silver _groschens_,[29] each child half a one, occasionally thirty paras, (forty go to a piaster) when they were very industrious. The men must each bring a hoe, and a shallow plaited basket, called _maktaf_. The children, forming by far the greater number, need only come with baskets. The maktafs are filled by the men, and carried away by the children on their heads; this is done in processions, which are kept in strict order and activity by overseers.

Their chief delight, and a considerable strengthener during their daily work, is song. They have certain simple melodies, which at a distance make an almost melancholy impression by reason of their great monotony; but near, they are hardly bearable, by reason of the pitiless duration of the yelling voices that often continue the same tune for hours together. Only the knowledge that by forbearance I assist so many in carrying half the burden of the day, and materially hasten their labours, has ever deterred me from meddling in this, though I am often driven from my tent in despair to seek rest for my ears in some distant sphere of activity. In the performance of the two-lined stanzas, the only change is, that the first line is sung by a single voice, the second by the whole chorus, while every fourth of a bar is marked by a clap of the hands, _e.g._

[Music:

Solo Chorus

1. Om-mí be-tá-kul má-ku-lí U a-ná

2. Dill á-ss-arí mál u mál Bun-yál

3. Yâ-min sa-báh‘ ú le-bén U ]

[Music: Solo

bagh-bágh-tét ’a-léï (Dill)

dill ebánne ú ’a-léï (Yâ-)

sám-neh sâïh ’a-le-t &c. ]

I.e.

1. My mother eats my dates
And I,--I am angry.

2. The shadow of Asser[30] bows it and bows it.
The wall (_bunyân_)....

3. Oh joy! when the morning milk
And butter pours over me.

_Makûl_, in the first line, is more properly only “food,” but it has generally become an expression for dates, as they are the principal food in the hut of the Fellah, and for some indeed is the only food. Another melody, a little more animated, is as follows:--

[Music:

Solo Chorus Solo ]

where the chorus exceptionally sings two notes and not one. But I hardly believe that even these chords are intentional; they run down without knowing it, for it often occurs that single voices sing the same note in different keys without in the least observing the continual discord. The power of joining voices together, in even the simplest harmony, seems to be wholly wanting in the Arab. The artistical music of the most celebrated singers and players, which inexpressibly delights even the most educated Mussulman, consists only of a hundred-wise screaming, restlessly-hurrying melody, the connecting idea of which is utterly untenable to an European ear.[31] And just as little are the musical instruments, when sounding together, used for any other harmonious variations than rhythm produces.

In the night we have eight watchmen, who really do watch, as I often prove to myself by going a nightly round; one of them is always walking up and down upon the walls about our camp, with his gun on his shoulder; for if we have to anticipate an attack at any place, it is here; not on the part of the Arabs, but of the yet more dangerous Bedouins, who inhabit the borders of the desert in many single hordes, not living under great sheîkhs, who might be secured to our interests. On the way from Illahûn hither, we came through a Bedouin camp, the sheîkh of which must have been aware of our approach, as he mounted his horse, rode to meet us, and offered us his services in case we might require them. Some distance further, we met an old man and a girl crying aloud in despair; they threw dust into the air and heaped it upon their heads; when we had come up to them they complained bitterly to us, that just then two Bedouins had robbed them of their only buffalo; indeed, we could see the thieves on horseback in the distance, driving the animal before them into the desert. I was alone with my dragoman and my little donkey groom, ’Auad, an active, dark-brown Berber, and could render them no assistance. Such robberies are not at all rare here. A short time since, one tribe drove away one hundred and twenty camels from another, and not a single one of them has come back yet.

However, we shall probably not be molested, for the judgment of Saqâra is not forgotten, and it is known that we are particularly recommended to the authorities. They were also aware that we carried no gold and silver with us in our heavy trunks, as the Arabs had universally imagined. We are also prepared for every other attack. The most important chests are all together in my tent, and beside my bed at night I always keep a double-barrelled English gun and a brace of pistols. Every evening I clear all away, in order to be prepared for anything, and storms in particular, from which we have suffered much lately, and the violence of which cannot be conceived in Europe. Abeken’s tent fell down upon him three times in the course of one day, and the last time disturbed him from sleep in a rather disagreeable manner. Thus, we are often in continual expectation for whole days and nights that the airy dwelling will fall down upon us at the next gust, and one must be accustomed to this feeling in order to go on quietly working or sleeping.

It would seem as if we were to taste of all the plagues of Egypt; our acquaintance with a flood was made at the great pyramid; then came the locusts, the young broods of which are numberless as the sands of the sea, eating up the green meadows and trees again, and, together with the passing cattle murrain, are almost enough to bring on a famine; after that came the attack, with a daring robbery at the beginning. The plague of fire has not quite failed. By a careless salute, Wild’s tent was set on fire in Saqâra, and was partially burnt while we stood around in the bright sunlight that concealed the conflagration. Now comes the plague of mice, with which we were not formerly acquainted; in my tent they gnaw, play, and whistle, as if they had been at home here all their lives, and quite regardless of my presence. At night they have already run across my bed and face, and yesterday I started terrified from my slumbers, as I suddenly felt the sharp tooth of such a daring guest at my foot. I jumped up angrily and got a light, knocked at every chest and tent-peg, but was only hissed and whistled at anew on my lying down again. Notwithstanding all these annoyances, however, we are in good spirits, and, thank God, they have only threatened us as yet, made us aware of their existence, and not harmed us much.

I have now much lightened the labours of inspecting the attendants and administering many outward labours by having brought an excellent _khawass_ from Cairo. These _khawasses_, who form a peculiar corps of officers of the Pasha, are in this country a very exclusive and important class of people. Only Turks are admitted into it, and these, by their nationality, have an inborn preponderance over every Arab. There are few nations that possess so much talent for governing as the Turks, whom we often picture to ourselves as half-barbarians, rough and uncultivated in the highest degree. On the contrary, they, nationally, have a species of aristocratic feeling. A most imperturbable quiet, cold bloodedness, reservedness, and energy of will, seem to be peculiar to every Turk, down to the lowest soldier, and they do not fail at first to make a certain impression upon the European. Among the noble Turks, who have all been subject to the most rigid etiquette from childhood, this outward carriage of apparently pre-conceived firmness, this reserved and proud politeness, moving lightly, as it were, in strict forms, is only present in the refined degree. They have an inborn contempt for everything that does not belong to their nation, and seem not to possess any feeling for the natural weight of higher mental culture and civilization which generally makes the most every-day European respected among other nations. Nothing is to be won from the Turk by kindness, consideration, demonstration, or even by irritation; he only looks upon it as weakness. The greatest reserve alone, and the most scrupulous and proud politeness toward the great, or aristocratic usage and categorical commands toward the little, succeed. A Turkish _khawass_ hunts a whole village of Fellahs or Arabs before him, and makes a decided impression upon the yet prouder Bedouins. The Pasha employs this body in delicate missions and trusts throughout the country. They are the principal acting servants of the Pasha and of the governors of the provinces. Every foreign consul also has such a _khawass_, without whom he scarcely moves a step, because he is his guard of honour, the token and executive of his incontestible authority. When he rides out, the _khawass_ precedes him on horseback, with a great silver staff, and drives the people and animals out of the way with words and blows, and woe be to him that assumes a gesture or even a look of opposition. The Pasha occasionally gives peculiarly-recommended strangers such a guard, with equal authority, and thus we, on our arrival, immediately received a _khawass_, who was, however, duly troublesome to us during our long stay at Gizeh, and was at last very ungraciously dismissed by me on account of his improper pretensions. On the occasion of the attack at Saqâra, I had another given me by Sherif Pasha; but still he was not the sort of man we wanted, so I have brought a third with us from Cairo, who has answered excellently till now. He takes the whole responsibility of the attendants off me, and manages admirably everything that I have to negotiate with the people and officials. In Europe I judged myself perfectly strong enough to conduct the whole outward affairs of the Expedition; but in this climate one must take another standard of measure. Patience and rest are here as necessary elements of existence as meat and drink.