Chapter VIII
Ossioot — The city gate — The mountain of tombs — Visit to Ismail Pasha — Encounter with a Latin monk — Ekekian Bey — Story of a cat — Arrival at Keneh — Visit to Hassan Said — The dancing girls — Departure from Keneh.
At six o’clock I was aroused by Mahomet, with an intimation that the donkeys were in attendance to take us to the mummy tombs of Ossioot. They would have been reserved, like all the other antiquities, for our return, but in their contract, the men had made a stipulation that they should halt here to make bread. And while they halted, we explored.
The way led through a grove, or, more properly, an avenue of fragrant mimosas and umbrageous oaks, interspersed with sycamore and fig trees, which extended for more than a mile, when we passed through a very pleasant garden, teeming with luxuriant vegetation, to the town. The first view of Ossioot is very striking—no less than eleven dazzling minarets, towering over the grove of mimosas, above which also peer the cupolas of several mosques. A gate opens into a small square, planted with fine trees, that offer a grateful shade, in which scores of Arabs and turbaned Musselmen, in their picturesque attire, were strolling or staring in admiration at two or three richly caparisoned horses, in attendance on Ismail Pasha, who was transacting business in a range of offices which form one side of the square. Round the other side is a kind of exchange, where the merchants, of whom there is a tolerable sprinkling, assemble and trade in corn, beans—and human beings!
Crossing the square, we came out at a bridge, which spans a branch of the Nile, then almost overflowing its banks, and brought us to the town. This is exceedingly well built, in which respect it surpassed any town we had yet seen, not excepting Cairo, though it is much less populous, and the streets have less animation. We soon made our way through it, and arrived at a viaduct, bordered with beautiful trees swarming with doves. This led us to what appeared to be another town, but, though it displayed a profusion of domes and minarets, peeping through a forest, and covered almost as much ground as Ossioot, I learnt from Daireh that it was the cemetery. A bridge immediately adjacent crosses a wide canal, constructed for the purpose of irrigation, and comes out in front of a mountain, the resting-place of thousands of mummies.
A steep ascent brought us to one of the massive entrances, and in a moment we stood among a multitude of dead. The mountain seems to be entirely hollow, and serves the purpose of a vault, on a prodigious scale. A strange but ample light was admitted through the portal, penetrating to the inmost recesses; but, disregarding the close, earthy, sepulchral smell, we pushed our way forward. Pitfalls and heaps of rubbish, the result of antiquarian researches, met us at every step; and mingled with the stones and earth were fragments of mummies, encased in their parchment skin. Numerous chambers diverged from this centre, strewn with these sad reliques. Never had so many vestiges of mortality been presented to me: nor can I say that the spectacle was either pleasing or profitable.
After inspecting several of the chambers, I crawled through an aperture into a dark cave, filled by myriads of skulls, heaped curiously round. I hastily retraced my way to the hall. As I reached the entrance, a far different prospect met my eye, for, through the yawning porch, I caught a glimpse of the pleasant corn-fields and luxuriant trees without, watered by the bright blue river, and backed in the distance by the lofty hills.
An hour’s ride took us back to the boats, where we enjoyed a hearty breakfast, which I think we had fairly earned. About ten o’clock I again went on shore, for the purpose of paying my respects to Ismail Pasha, the Governor of Upper Egypt. He received me with marked courtesy, and I found him a most gentlemanly and agreeable man. His person is strikingly handsome; and sitting on his divan, in an easy and graceful posture, he looked the model of Eastern satraps. He entertained me with pipes and coffee, and much more, by his conversation, which, though displaying a strange ignorance on what we consider in England, ordinary points of information, showed him to be extremely shrewd and intelligent. His mode of accounting for the difference of climate between England and Egypt, a subject we happened to touch upon, is extremely original. He thought that it admitted of easy explanation, and that, as we descended the Nile in going from Ossioot, London was so much colder because it was two thousand miles further from the sun! But Ismail Pasha makes a very adroit governor, notwithstanding the paucity of his acquirements; I could not but admire the dexterity with which, while wholly destitute of military power, he contrives to carry on and administer the government. Even the lawless Bedouins submit to his rule, and dare not violate his commands. An instance of this transpired while we were at Ossioot. A murder, no uncommon occurrence in Egypt, was committed by a Bedouin, who effected his escape; not being able to discover him, Ismail sent a message to the Sheiks of his tribe, requiring them to give him up, or surrender themselves, and be punished in his stead. It might be supposed, that being without soldiers to enforce obedience, his commands would have been treated with derision; but the Sheiks knew that he possessed another power. In fact, the various tribes regard each other with the most rancorous hatred; and the Pasha has but to give the word, when they would fall on any who might be refractory. By thus setting man against man, Ismail succeeds in keeping them all in order.
On taking leave of the Pasha, I made a tour of the town, and visited several grinding mills, and some indigo works; passing thence to the bazaars. These are of some importance, and are well stocked with goods, among which I noticed a number of bales bearing the widely-know impress of Manchester. The _entente cordiale_ subsisting among the traders in these emporiums is very new to an Englishman. Here you have a whole street of persons embarked in the same trade, or following the same calling; you pass from a range of pipe-shops into an avenue of tailors, or through a hive of shoe-makers.
In another quarter of the town, I noticed some slaves, but they had not the same happy look as those I had seen at Cairo, and, moreover, seemed fagged and jaded. They are brought here from Darfour, a long and wearisome journey, to them a most trying one, many dying of fatigue on the road. They are not all for sale here, but Ossioot, from its central situation, is a halting-place for the caravans, and thence they diverge to the most opposite points.
On my way back to our boats, I encountered a Latin monk of the Franciscan order; as he was dressed in Turkish costume, I should have set him down for a devout Mussulman had he not answered my salaam with a “buona notte.” We fell into conversation, and I found that he was attached to a mission sent out by the Propaganda, who have established no less than ten churches in this country, over a space extending from Alexandria to Khartoum. He had been out ten years, and had yet to remain at Ossioot two years longer, ere he would be recalled to his convent at Rome, to which he looked forward with tears of joy. During his long exile, he had met with but one or two missionaries like himself, proceeding to the different stations; and he described his life as very lonely. I took him on board our boats, and showed him round, by which he was much gratified; and, after partaking of some refreshment, he invited me to accompany him home.
It was a delightful evening, and as we stepped ashore, a gentle breeze wafted us the fragrant odour of the woods. At the same moment, the deep sonorous voice of an Imaum uttered the call to prayer from a neighbouring mosque, and True Believers turned to respond. It acted like a spell on a motley crowd in the street, collected round a convicted thief, who was undergoing the ordeal of the bastinado, and, at every touch of the lash, yelled out most manfully. While all turned to the temple of the False Prophet, I followed the priest through a low door, and found myself in a chapel dedicated to the Messiah.
My surprise was great when I looked about me; I could almost have imagined myself in Italy. The little church was clean and neat in the extreme, with a quiet religious light creeping through the windows, and falling softly on the three altars, each of which was adorned with an admirable painting, such as one does not see often out of Italian cities. The centre dome contained a picture of St. Ferdinand, presented by the Emperor of Austria: there was another of St. Catherine, the gift of the Empress. The good priest, who took great pride in his church, was much pleased at my surprise, and at the estimate I formed of his paintings; this led to a long conversation. His flock, he told me, consisted of about seven hundred Copts, converted Turks and Armenians. We smoked a friendly pipe, and took leave of each other with the most cordial feeling on both sides.
We brought out some newspapers for Ekekian Bey, a distinguished officer of engineers, who had been some time in the service of Abbas Pasha, but, like all the Viceroy’s scientific officers, had just been dismissed. The Bey is an elderly man, well-informed, and of courteous manners, though rather abrupt. He is accustomed to English society, having been educated at Stonyhurst, and resided for a long time at Leasowes Castle, near Liverpool. By such intercourse, he has been led into more enlarged views than are generally adopted by his countrymen. He came on board to dinner, and entertained us with some amusing stories and anecdotes, interspersed with shrewd remarks upon his countrymen, to whose peculiarities, as a travelled man, he was singularly awake.
One thing he mentioned, in which we all most heartily concurred—that the Egyptians have no idea of truth, time, or distance; and it requires but one day in Alexandria to impress this on the dullest understanding. The Bey had made part of the Khartoum journey, and gave us a lively narrative of what we should have to encounter; encouraging our ladies to look forward to the deserts with courage, and even confidence.
We left Ossioot early the next morning, and proceeded slowly up the river, unwilling to remove our eyes from the scene we were leaving. The wind was, for the first time, decidedly adverse, and we tacked all day, moving at a very slow rate, and only accomplishing about six miles in ten hours. The sun blazed fiercely the whole time, and seemed to concentrate its rays upon our boat. We should have spent the day more pleasantly, and perhaps as profitably, among the tombs, but on the Nile it is well not to lose time; these six miles is a step onward.
Three more days of adverse winds, or calms, under a still raging sun, were spent much in the same way; the Arabs towing us along very unsteadily; with our stoppages, we did not cover more than five miles each day. Our crews were certainly very lazy fellows; but their good- humour was so perfect, that it almost atoned for their indolence. As we proceeded, we saw many ibis and pelicans at a distance, but we did not shoot any; and, during the whole time, we had but little sport.
On the third morning, we missed our cat, a most sprightly animal, which had been engaged at Ossioot, and had become a particular favourite with the crew, who were much dejected at its disappearance. Hearing, however, that a heaven-born cat had fallen from the clouds into the other boat, I thought that such a prodigy might possibly be able to give some account of ours. On boarding our consort, I found its resemblance so striking, that when four of ‘The Fanny’s’ crew made a solemn declaration it was the same, I laid claim to it. ‘The Eagle’s’ men, undaunted by our scepticism, persisted in asserting that they had seen it come down from heaven; but the earthly character of the cat was proved beyond dispute, and she was carried back in triumph, to the great joy of our crew.
A fair wind came with the following morning, and carried us along rapidly for about a dozen miles, when it grew so boisterous, that we were obliged to draw up by the bank, and drop the anchors. It continued blowing all day, and during the greater part of the night, whirling past our cabin windows in furious gusts, such as might be looked for in rough weather on the coasts of England. It lulled towards morning, and with the first light we hoisted sail, and resumed our voyage.
This day we gained sixty miles, passing Giorgeh, and many other towns and villages, all nestling under the pleasant shade of date and palm trees. These trees, viewed at a distance, appear like dwarfed oaks, with sturdy, wide-spreading branches, covered with luxuriant foliage, but on coming nearer, their leaves take a fan-like shape, and their graceful boughs are found to be loaded with fruit, some of the clumps comprising as many as two or three hundred separate nuts. Soon after passing Giorgeh, we saw an enormous crocodile, which, as if to show its fair proportions, scrambled out of the water on to a small islet, where he strolled leisurely about. Unfortunately we could not get a chance of a shot, for before he came well out, the breeze bore us swiftly past, and he was soon out of sight. By the evening we advanced as far as Shandowak.
The wind continuing propitious, we made considerable progress next day; and on the day following we had a gentle breeze, which earned us past Farshook, with its countless tall chimneys and busy sugar-works, and in front of Dishnek, and graceful Esneh, famed for its Almi or dancing girls. At eight o’clock on the morning of the 5th of November, in honour of which day we had hoisted our three flags, the boats came to anchor about five miles from Keneh, having accomplished the journey from Cairo in seventeen days, the time it usually occupies.
Early next morning we reached Keneh, and immediately going on shore, proceeded to our Agent, who is Her Majesty’s Consul, for our letters, which were to await us here. We were directed to the bazaar, and on our way, passed through several spacious coffee-shops already pretty well attended. Among the company, we noticed some fine-looking Arabs, in their high turbans and flowing robes, with long white beards falling on their breasts. Pipes and coffee were in great request among these sages.
The bazaar, whither we soon arrived, was equal to that of Ossioot. Our dragoman brought us to the Consul, a son of Anak, of colossal dimensions, and upwards of a century old, having confessed to ninety- seven five years ago, though, in accordance with Eastern custom, he has since retrograded to ninety-four. He was enveloped in no less than five togas, the outermost of which was a blanket, and the one next his skin composed of fine linen. His head was immured in a turban, at least three feet in diameter, forming a perfect mountain of white muslin, intervolved with a Cachmere shawl. This venerable patriarch, who bore the name of Hassan Said, was seated in a sort of box, in front of his shop, which was stored with a variety of commodities. By his side sat his grandson and great grandson, the former of whom had reached the mature age of twenty-five.
Hassan, though a very intelligent old man, and the representative of England in these parts, can neither read nor write. He was a good ripe age when the French invaded Egypt, and talks very glibly about Napoleon and Kleber. He is reputed extremely wealthy, and possesses a great deal of land, and herds of camels and sheep. His grandson, by his direction, conducted us to his house, where we obtained our letters, and our firman, giving us permission to traverse Nubia. Some chairs were brought into the court-yard, which was cold and muddy; and here we were regaled with pipes and coffee, both of inferior quality.
We lost no time in looking over our letters, and were thus engaged, when a man came into the court, dressed in a short English pea-coat, and _ci- devant_ fashionable trowsers, the work of a Parisian artist; and introduced himself as a Greek merchant, who could give us some information about the country. The fellow made the most extraordinary gestures I ever saw; the attitudes he assumed were so ludicrous, that it was with difficulty I could refrain from laughing. By his own account, he was familiar with the route to Khartoum, and had often crossed the desert; it is but justice to say, that when we resumed our journey, the information he had given us proved both valuable and correct. I invited him on board ‘The Fanny’ to smoke a pipe, and, on our way down, questioned him about the hippopotami and millia, on which he stopped in the middle of the road, and commenced a series of antics, illustrative of the habits of those animals, till all the Arab children within hail, though not easily aroused to action, came rushing up to see what was the matter. Then he showed me how the gazelle runs, and how it could best be shot, winding up with a lesson in camel riding, during which he swung himself backwards and forwards in the drollest manner, as if he were actually on a camel’s back. I was glad to retreat to the boat, where we had two pipes, and talked about Khartoum, with illustrations by the Greek, till the subject was exhausted.
Meanwhile, our Consul, being lifted on his ass, came down, heavy with years and turban, to call upon us, under the pretext of paying his devoir to our ladies, but his real mission was maraschino. The fact is, old Hassan is noted for his impudence, and his _penchant_ for brandy, and is always on the look-out for presents. We gave him a pipe and some coffee, but he was disappointed in the brandy; and finding, after an interval of about half an hour, that it was not forthcoming, he went off.
In strolling through the town, I saw some of the dancing girls. They were standing at their doors, laughing and joking, and seemed a merry and reckless set. Their forms, more liberally displayed than was strictly consistent with Oriental decorum, seemed elastic and graceful, and were attired in gorgeous dresses of pink silk, bedizened with jewellery.
A melancholy contrast to these nymphs met us on the beach—a party of wretched old hags, bent with age and want, and having their half-naked forms hung with rags. These were the dancing girls of a past age.
By noon, Daireh, who acted as our caterer, had completed his purchases, and hoisting our sail, a mild breeze bore us away. We kept on our course for five hours, when we hauled in the sails, and anchored for the night. The evening passed in comparing notes respecting what we had seen, in looking over and filling up our journals, in making drawings, and—in talking about home.
The next two days we had but little wind, and were obliged to resort to tacking. Meanwhile, one of our Arabs, whose services could ill be spared, went on the sick list, and I had a strong suspicion that he was skulking. Whether he were or not, his docility and obedience to orders made him a pattern patient; could we imitate the Arabs in these points, we should prove much less profitable to the doctors. He was given a dose of medicine, and kept without food for twelve hours, when he came aft, and petitioned for a pipe. This was refused, but gruel allowed, and next day he was convalescent, and showed himself very alert.
As we advanced further up the river, the flies, which had all along been very troublesome, became a perfect torment, and so bold, that we had great difficulty in keeping them out of our eyes. The breeze dying away, left us completely at their mercy; when evening fell, we had the mortification of learning that we were still two hours’ sail from the point we had hoped to reach. Even the next day brought us no wind, and it was not till one in the afternoon that we anchored off a grove of sycamores, and turned our eyes on the majestic ruin around. It was THEBES!
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Khartoum, and the Blue and White Niles, Vol. 1 (of 2)Chapter VIII
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