Chapter V: Letter IV

AT THE FOOT OF THE GREAT PYRAMID. _January 2, 1843._

Still here! in full activity since the 9th of November, and perhaps to continue so for some weeks of the new year! How could I have anticipated from the accounts of previous travellers, what a harvest we were to reap here,--here, on the oldest stage of the chronologically definable history of mankind. It is remarkable how little this most-frequented place of all Egypt has been examined hitherto. But I will not quarrel with our predecessors, since we inherit the fruits of their inactivity. I have been obliged the rather to restrain our curiosity to see more of this wonder-land, as we may half solve the problem at this place. On the best charts of former times, two graves have peculiar designations, beside the pyramids. Rosellini has only examined one grave more, and Champollion says in his letters, “_Il y a peu à faire ici, et lorsqu’on aura copié des scenes de la vie domestique, sculptées dans un tombeau, je regagnerai nos embarcations!_” [There is little to be done here, and when they have copied the scenes of domestic life sculptured in one tomb, I shall regain our vessels.] We have given in our exact topographical plan of the whole Necropolis forty-five graves, with whose inmates I have become acquainted by their inscriptions, and I have enumerated eighty-two in all, which seemed worthy of notice on account of their inscriptions, or some other peculiarities.[8] Of these but few belong to the later time; nearly all of them were erected during or shortly after the building of the great pyramid, and therefore present us with an inestimable series of dates for the knowledge of the oldest definable civilisation of the races of man. The architecture of that age, concerning which I could formerly offer only a few speculations,[9] now lies before me in the fullest circumstantiality. Nearly all the branches of architecture are to be found developed; sculptures of complete figures of all dimensions, in haut-relief and bas-relief, present themselves in the most astonishing variety. The style is very marked and finely executed, but it is clear that the Egyptians had not then that peculiar canon of proportion which we find universally at a later period.[10] The painting on the fine plaster is often more beautiful than could be expected, and occasionally exhibits the freshness of yesterday in perfect preservation. The subjects on the walls are usually representations of scenes from the life of departed persons, and seem mostly intended to place their riches, cattle, fish, boats, hunts, and servants, before the eyes of the observer. Through them we become acquainted with every particular of their private life. The numerous inscriptions describe or name these scenes, or they set forth the often widely-extended family of the departed, and all his offices and titles, so that I could almost write a Court and State Directory of the time of King Cheops, or Chephren. The most stately tombs or rock graves belonged chiefly to the princes, relations, or highest officers of those kings near whose pyramids they are situated; and not unfrequently I have found the graves of father, son, grandson, and even great-grandson; so that whole genealogies of those distinguished families, the nobility of the land fifty centuries ago, may be formed. The most beautiful of the tombs, which I have discovered among many others in the all-burying sand, belongs to a prince[11] of King Cheops.

I employ forty to sixty people every day in excavations and similar labours. Also before the great Sphinx I have had excavations made to bring to light the temple between its paws, and to lay open the colossal stele formed of one block of granite, eleven feet high and seven feet broad, serving as a back wall to the temple, and covered to about its own height with sand. It is one of the few memorials here of the great Pharaohs of the New Empire, after the expulsion of the Hyksos. I have had a plaster cast taken of it.

The Egyptian winter is not always so spring-like as one occasionally imagines in Europe. At sunrise, when every one hurries to work, we have already had +5° Réaumur, so that the artists could hardly use their fingers.

Winter began with a scene that will ever remain impressed upon my memory. I had ridden out to the excavations, and as I observed a great black cloud coming up, I sent an attendant to the tents, to make them ready against it, but soon followed him myself, as it began to rain a little. Shortly after my arrival, a storm began, and I therefore had the tent ropes made fast; soon, however, there came a pouring rain, that frightened all our Arabs, and sent them trooping to the rock-tomb, where our kitchen is situated. Of our party, Erbkam and Franke were only present. Suddenly the storm grew to a tremendous hurricane, such as I have never seen in Europe, and hail fell upon us in such masses, as almost to turn day into night. I had the greatest difficulty in hunting our Arabs out from the cavern, to bring our things to the tombs under shelter, as we might expect the destruction of our tents at any moment; and it was no long time ere first our common tent broke down, and then, as I hurried from it into my own, to sustain it from the inside, that also broke down above my head. When I had crept out, I found that my things were tolerably well covered by the tents, so that I could leave them for the present, but only to run a greater risk. Our tents lie in a valley, whither the plateau of the pyramids inclines, and are sheltered from the worst winds from the north and west. Presently I saw a dashing mountain flood hurrying down upon our prostrate and sand-covered tents, like a giant serpent upon its certain prey. The principal stream rolled on to the great tent; another arm threatened mine, without quite reaching it. But everything that had been washed from our tents by the shower was torn away by the two streams, which joined behind the tents, and carried into a pool behind the Sphinx, where a great lake immediately formed, which fortunately had no outlet.

Just picture this scene to yourself! our tents, dashed down by the storm and heavy rain, lying between two mountain torrents, thrusting themselves in several places to the depth of six feet into the sand, and depositing our books, drawings, sketches, shirts, and instruments--yes, even our levers and iron crowbars; in short, every thing they could seize, in the dark, foaming, mud ocean. Besides this, ourselves wet to the skin, without hats, fastening up the weightier things, rushing after the lighter ones, wading into the lake to the waist to fish out what the sand had not yet swallowed; and all this was the work of a quarter of an hour, at the end of which the sun shone radiantly again, and announced the end of this flood by a bright and glorious rainbow.

It was difficult to see at once what we had lost, and where we ought to begin to bring things into order again. The two Weidenbachs and Frey had observed the whole scene from the tombs where they were at work, as a mighty drama of nature, and without even dreaming of the mischances that had happened to us, until I sent for them to assist in preparing for the quickly-approaching night. For several more days we fished and dug for our things. Some things were lost, many were spoilt; the greater part of all the things that were not locked up inside chests or trunks bore at least more or fewer marks of this flood. After all, there was nothing of much importance lost; I had first secured the great portfolios, together with my manuscripts and books; in short, after a few days the whole thing took the form of a remarkable picture, leaving no unpleasant reminiscence, and of which I should grudge my memory the loss.

Since then, we have suffered much from violent gales, that occasionally so fill the atmosphere with sand that respiration is rendered difficult, painting with colours is totally precluded, and drawing and writing paper is continually covered with a most disagreeable, ever-renewed dust. This fine sand penetrates one’s clothes, enters all our boxes, even when most closely shut, fills one’s nose, ears, hair, and is the unavoidable pepper to every dish and drink.

_January 5._ On the evening of the first Christmas holiday, I surprised my companions by a large bonfire, which I had lighted at the top of the greatest pyramid. The flame shone magnificently upon the two other pyramids, as well as on the Necropolis, and threw its light far over the dale to Cairo. That was a Christmas pyramid! I had only confided the secret to Abeken, who had arrived, with his ever merry humour and his animated and instructive conversation, upon the 10th of December. With his assistance I prepared something for the following night, in the Royal Chamber of the Great Pyramid. We planted a young palm-tree in the sarcophagus of the ancient king, and adorned it with lights and little presents that I had sent for from the city for us children of the wilderness. Saint Sylvester also must receive due honour. On New Year’s eve, at midnight, there arose mighty flames from the heights of the three great pyramids, and announced, far and wide in the regions of Islâm, at their feet, the change of the Christian year.[12]

I consider it a proper mental diet for our company to break and interrupt our laborious, and, for the artists, very monotonous occupations, not only by the hebdomadal rest of Sunday, but also by pleasant parties of pleasure and gay festivals, as often as opportunity will admit. As yet, the harmony and good humour of our society have not been disturbed by the slightest echo of discord; and they gain new strength every day, as well by the fulness of our novel impressions and the reciprocal tastes and natures of our companions, as by the obstacles and hardships of this Bedouin life.

How manifold the elements of our community are, you may perceive by the true Babel of languages in which we are ever moving. The English language is sufficiently represented by our companions, Wild and Bonomi; French and Italian serve as a medium of communication with the authorities, our chance guests, and the Levantine merchants; in Arabic we command, eat, and travel; and in very capital German we consult, chatter, sing, and live. As long as it is day we are generally each alone, and uninterruptedly at work. The morning coffee is drunk before sunrise; after sunset, dinner is served; and we breakfast while at work. Thus our artists have been already enabled to prepare a hundred great folio leaves, partly executed in lead, partly finished off in colours, for our swelling portfolios.