CHAPTER XX.

The only excursion in the neighbourhood which Icould make was to Beled er-Roum, of whose ruins, and the treasures concealed in them, I had heard extraordinary accounts from the natives. It lies nearly north by north-west from Siwah, the road leading over a causeway, built, I believe, by a former governor, across the salt lake which bounds Siwah on this side. The water is shallow, and from the film of crystallised salt which covers it to a considerable distance, it has the appearance of being frozen. Passing through groves of palms and olives, we came in an hour and a half to a large mass of shapeless ruins, built of sandstone and salt, called Dāhĭba. An hour further through hills, all of them containing cave-tombs, brought us to Beled er-Roum. We first came upon a collection of small ruins, built of unburnt bricks, in one of which are two well-turned vaults. In the rocks close to them are some well-executed tombs, and I am inclined to ascribe a similar use to these buildings, which may date from about the second century; the people call them the houses of the infidels. A little further on are the ruins of the temple, which, with a disposition resembling the Egyptian, is of almost pure Doric architecture, without a trace of hieroglyphics, and the stones of which it is built are only two feet six inches by one foot. The cornice of the sanctuary, or furthest apartment, is composed of four flutings; that of the exterior room is one very large curve, whose outline iscompletely Doric. There remain now portions of only three rooms. The inner one, with two small windows, is sixteen feet five inches in breadth by fifteen feet six inches long. The centre room, with the same breadth, is only eight feet six inches long; and the exterior one, now in great part ruined, is fifteen feet eight inches long. Their height is eighteen feet seven inches. The roof of the inner compartment has fallen, and its masses encumber the sanctuary; of that of the second chamber there still remain four immense stones, stretching from wall to wall, like that of Omm Beida. The sanctuary is entered by a large doorway with pilasters, and the space is narrowed by short square pillars, with very broad capitals, which almost touch, so that the passage left is only broad enough for one person, while above there is formed by the summit of the capitols, a sort of window cut off the height of the door. In front, and in a line with the remaining building, extends a long substructure, the foundation of the remainder of the temple, which seems to have three times exceeded the fragment which is preserved, and about thirty yards further on is an extensive vaulted subterranean, running at right angles to the line of the temple.

All these buildings undergo continual dilapidations through the researches of the treasure-seekers; and it is probable that, at no distant date, this temple will inthis manner be entirely destroyed; for it unfortunately happens that treasure, enclosed in a box of obir-wood, is supposed to exist somewhere within the stones which form the roof. I was shown a Moghraby manuscript, containing detailed directions where to seek for treasures, and stating of what they consisted.

Other antiquities exist in places round Siwah, their distance varying from six hours to two days; but I was kept in such uncertainty as to the time when we were to leave, and I was so unwilling to take the responsibility of detaining the troops, that I gave up my intention of visiting them. Mummies are not unfrequently found in subterranean repositories built in the sand of a Hattyeh five hours distant to the west; and in these graves glass or earthenware vessels are sometimes discovered. There is a place called Dogha (دوغه), a day and a half to the east, never visited by the Siwy, of which I heard from a man who had reached it in tracking some lost camels. He said that there was there a temple like that of Omm Beida, in front of which were rows of warriors on horseback, cut in stone. These may, not impossibly, be sphinxes. He further told me that the earth in this Hattyeh is black, with a strong smell of sulphur when thrown on the fire. I should be inclined to suppose this may be a sulphate of some metal; the more so, that the Gibely told me a man had brought, he knew not fromwhere, a handful of similar earth, which, when exposed to the heat of a furnace, left a button of a white metal in the bottom of the crucible. I think it is Caillaud who speaks of sulphur mines in Siwah; but though the hot springs and occasional earthquakes are a proof of volcanic action in this neighbourhood, no one I spoke with had any knowledge of the existence of either yellow or white sulphur.

At Beled er-Roum I spent an hour in the orchard of one of my friends; and in vain attempted to put this time to profit by learning the distinguishing marks of the different kinds of date-trees. It requires a very practised eye to discover the different varieties when not in fruit; the stems and leaves are so similar in all, that my guide was unable to point out the marks by which one is known from the other. The Siwah dates are of four kinds:—the waddyوُدي, used for feeding cattle; the s’aïdyسعيدي, which, with water, are pressed into a cake; the gh’azalyغزالي, a long brown date; and, lastly, the most highly prized, the farechyفَِراخي, whose fruit is short, nearly white, and crisp, as if candied.[11]

This day there blew a violent chamsin wind, which raised clouds of sand, rendering it almost impossible for any one to see a few yards ahead, and against which spectacles were no protection. Nothing would have tempted me to brave it but the necessity of being ready to start on the following day. On my return, I announced to the Commandant that I had completed my tour of the antiquities; and would detain him no longer. My eyes and skin were still smarting from exposure to the wind; and I was, perhaps, a little annoyed when he answered that, Inshallah! we should start the day after to-morrow. But that day was Tuesday, a bad day for starting; the next, Wednesday, was still more unlucky; therefore, on Thursday, we were positively to go; and, early in the morning of that day, almost before dawn, came an officer to see if I were ready. By this time, I had learned a lesson in punctuality, and did not hurry myself; but by eight, my camels were being loaded, under the superintendence of one of the Buluk-bashis, who seemed now to think every five minutes of value. I knew that the eighty water-skins had not yet been filled, and looked forward to a departure late in the afternoon as the most that could be hoped for; but when at last, being fairly turned out of my house, I took refuge at the castle, I found there was to be a fresh palaver on the subject of the prisoners. I wasnow thoroughly tired of the question; and, like Falstaff, I was somewhat ashamed of the ragged regiment who were to be carried in my suite, so I told Hassan Aga he might do as he pleased on his own responsibility; whereupon, he took from them a written engagement to present themselves, one and all, at Cairo on that day month. I held my peace till all was done, and they were dismissed; after which I drily said to him, “I have no hand in the matter; not one of them will come.” And the event proved that I was right.

It was now too late in the day to think of starting; and, having made up my mind to preserve my good-humour, at least, as far as the Egyptian frontier, I adjourned with Hassan to the front of the castle, where a carpet was spread, and the officers, old and young, joined by several of the men, gave us the amusement of a game of the Jerid. I had never before seen this really graceful exercise; but it has been so often described that I refrain from speaking of it.

Leave Siwah. — Rude Sepulchres. — A Camel’s last stage. — Sand Storm. — Find an Arab Cousin. — Corn hard to get at. — Adieu to the Desert. — The Desert. The Oasis. — Arrive at Cairo.

Good Friday.—March 25th.—It was eleven o’clock the next day before everything was ready. The camels were loaded and sent on, and then, with loud beating of the little saddle-drums, the horsemen forming a long line, their colours in the middle, followed by Hassan Aga and myself, we rode slowly out of Siwah. The officers cantered along the line as it advanced, first one and then another, in no regular order, and with no other apparent object than that of making a sort of fantasia, as the Arabs call everything which they think amusing or gay. A wedding festivity, a gaily-decked horse, or an embroidered jacket, are all equally fantasia. My servants and the slaves of the officers, Sheikh Yusuf and his friends, who in considerable numbers accompanied him, for some hours brought up the rear. The well-disposed part of the populationhad come out to see the show, and to bid me adieu; among them the Mufti and his brother, but none of my late prisoners appeared in the crowd, to the great indignation of Hassan Aga.

An hour out of the town the standard was furled, and then the line was broken, and every one went as his fancy led him, excepting myself, who soon found that I was considered either too suspicious or too precious a personage to be allowed to stir a step without Hassan Aga at my side. If I hung back, he did so too; if I rode to one side, he not only followed me, but with him the little tin-kettle drummers, and the nucleus of his army. As for dismounting to gather a fossil, or to chip a rock, it was the signal for a general halt; and I was therefore condemned to stick to my saddle and follow my leader.

In three hours and a half we reached a Hattyeh called Wushky Tamoushty,وشكي طموشتي, where we halted for some little time to allow the camels to come up. Ponds of bitter water, palm bushes and mimosas, dot this plain, which is infested by myriads of small, gray, singularly venomous musquitoes. Two and a half hours further on, we came to some hills called Gebel Melhiors,ملهيوص, of the same tertiary limestone as those around Siwah, and here the soldiers amused themselves by discharging their guns and pistolsto enjoy the repeated echoes of one of the rocks. It was half-past nine, when, after passing Hattyeh el Kuttef,الكثف, we reached Omm Hoememهوُِهَم, a line of low sand-hills covered with trees; these supplied materials for making huge bonfires, round which the soldiers lay themselves to sleep in parties of three and four. The next day we were fourteen hours on horseback, riding through a country presenting nothing remarkable; I give, therefore, a mere catalogue of names. After passing a hill, Ingah Omm Hoemem, we came to a table-land called Es-sutah,السُوطه, from which, on the right, rises a rock called Er-Rocheia,الرحيه. The view was bounded towards the east by low white hills, destitute of any appearance of vegetation, called, from their colour, El-abiadh. Here we halted for the night; the soldiers were in great discomfort, as the place affords no means of making fires, and the night was extremely chilly. Skirting El-abiadh we reached in three hours a darker-coloured range, called El Achmar, and from this it took us three hours to arrive at the palm-groves and wells of brackish water, which lie on this side of the small oasis of El Gara, as it is usually called, though also known as Omm-es-soghaigh,ام السغير.

This is a miniature Siwah, presenting the same abundance of water (which is here all bitter), and aproportionate number of date trees. The town, now almost in ruins, resembles Agharmy in its situation on a table-rock, and is approached by a very steep path, which passes under a gateway. Everything betokens the poverty and misery of the inhabitants, who only number twelve grown men. There is a tradition, that the population of the place can never exceed forty; and whenever, by immigration (which they do not therefore encourage) or by births, this limit is passed, some one is sure to die. The male population seemed very well-disposed, coming at once on our arrival to pay their court to Hassan Aga and Sheikh Yusuf, and showing readiness to make themselves as useful as they could. I never met with twelve such ugly specimens of humanity collected in one place; and their virtues do not atone for their bad looks, as they are said to be drunkards and lazy, taking no other care of their date trees, about 21,000 in number, than drawinglagbyand gathering the fruit from them. They make no attempt at manuring them, and do not even trim them, so that their produce is very inferior to the dates of Siwah. The interior of the town is even more ruinous than the promise of its external appearance; a circular market-place, surrounded by fallen cabins, occupies its centre, and it has near the entrance a well of drinkable water, 70 feet deep.

The brother of one of the two sheikhs who governthis important territory acted as my guide to see the curiosities of the place, and thinking, perhaps, that he had not sufficiently earned his bachshish, he insisted, as we came out, on showing the town gate. He closed the massive door, formed of palm trunks, and, after drawing some ponderous bolts, linked on an iron cable chain of the largest dimensions, to show me how secure it was. I could not help smiling at the precautions taken to close a place which contained nothing of the smallest value, which drew from him a grave shake of the head and the triumphant rejoinder, that a strong door and a big chain are good things. In the rock on which the town is built are four rudely-excavated sepulchres, and I saw many more in different parts of the small oasis, but the rudeness of their fashion leads me to conjecture that even in its most flourishing times this dependency on the Ammonium never reached any high degree of prosperity. Either this, or the lake of El Arachish, to the north-west of Siwah, must have been the place where Alexander left his escort in entering on the sacred territory of Ammon. We spent a day and a half here, notwithstanding the badness of the water, from which some of the horses had suffered in coming to Siwah, as the Aga had forgotten or neglected to have bread baked for the soldiers before starting. Leaving El Gara, we took almost a due northerly direction, and made long days,as there is no water to be found for four days. The horses of my escort had the bad habit of drinking daily, which a thorough desert horse does not require, and, when possible, the draught is given to them about midday. Immediately after drinking, their riders mount them and give them a short gallop, which I can only suppose is for the purpose of winding them.

The first landmark we reached was Gar-el-lebna, the milk hill, thirteen hours off, the next six hours further on, Gar-ed-dih, the cock’s hill. Many of the horses fell, as if struck with apoplexy, on the second day, and on this day and the two following ones we lost eleven. I ascribe the casualty to the water of the Gara, which, stopping digestion, blew them up like a well-inflated foot-ball, and after a few hours in this state, if injections, fomentations, and bleeding had no effect, they dropped as if shot, with all the appearance of acoup de sang. As ten of his horses had died with the same symptoms on arriving in Siwah, I suggested to Hassan Aga that as short a route might be found leaving the Gara to the east, which would, perhaps, avoid any risk there might be from a recurrence of illness among the horses. He made no account of this; and now that one would have thought his eyes must be opened to the results of his stupidity, he and Sheikh Yusuf agreed in ascribing the misfortune to the Evil Eye, while Yusuf looked grave, and said nosoldiers had ever approached Siwah without being struck by the Eye in leaving it. Of course there was no veterinary with the detachment; but what was stranger, not one of the party seemed to have an idea of what to do; they had no physic, nor even a fleam. The horses which recovered, as well as, I acknowledge, some of those which died, were doctored by my servant and myself, their owners seeming to have no resource but to sit down and thank God that the Eye was on the horses, not on the men.

We had made thirteen hours this day, but on the next, the Commandant being anxious to arrive at water, as the skins were rapidly decreasing under the charge of the Arabs, the camels made seventeen hours’ journey, and the next day, in three hours, we reached a well called Caldeh; it, however, contained so small a supply that we literally drank it dry. From Omm Es-soghair to this well the distance is forty-six hours. Though every day their loads, principally water and corn, were growing lighter, a great many of the camels were so exhausted that they dropped down, unable to proceed. When no application of the stick would induce the poor beasts to rise, their loads were distributed to others, and they sometimes were able to continue the journey. But if they had been driven too far before falling this was useless, and after a few steps they would again lie down, when the cameldrivers would at once despatch them, and then stripping off the hide, they cut all the flesh from the bones to make a feast in the evening, so that within half an hour a pool of blood and a skeleton were all that remained of their long-suffering companion. I was unlucky enough to come up just as one large white camel fell. It lay motionless, while its brutal master, with heavy blows, endeavoured to force it to rise. In vain. The escort stopped to look on, and I was so fascinated with the expression of the dying beast’s head, that, though anxious to turn away, I was an involuntary witness of its death. As all efforts to make it rise were unavailing, a man threw it over on its side and slowly cut through its long neck, from which an immense stream of blood flowed, while he pronounced the words, “In the name of God the Merciful, the Compassionate.” The camel made no resistance; but, turning its head towards its butcher, uttered two or three loud, heart-rending moans, which sounded in my ears for the remainder of the day. I have seldom witnessed a more pitiable sight.

Five hours beyond Caldeh is another and very remarkable well, being a subterranean chamber hollowed in the rock, 72 feet square, in the floor of which are nine wells, one in each corner, in the centre of each side, and in the middle. Two are now sanded up, but the others afford an abundance of water. The chamberis eight feet high, and presents every appearance of great antiquity; but there are no ruins apparent in the vicinity, nor any town named in the ancient geographies which could have occupied this place; perhaps, in its origin, it served, as at the present day, as a reservoir for the caravans from the south and west. We encamped here for the night, as a strong wind, which had been blowing all day, had increased to such violence that it was impossible to proceed. The air was filled with sand of a dark orange colour, while the sun, an hour and a half before setting, was of a pale blue, and could be gazed at with the naked eye. Had we been in July instead of April, this wind, which blew from the south-west, might have been attended with serious consequences. In the night a great deal of rain fell, which moderated its violence, and the next morning it had entirely ceased. We were now leaving the region of sand, the ground being dotted with a spare vegetation, which, in three hours from Bu Battah, gave the country a general green tone, till on approaching the sea this was succeeded by a strong, healthy growth of herbs and grass, affording excellent pasturage. In eight hours we reached the edge of the great platform we had been traversing, and by a steep descent, of not more than 120 feet in perpendicular, we reached the level of the sea, encamping, at the end of the ninth hour, in a meadow of rank grass, separatedfrom the sea by a ridge of sand. A point to the west forms here a small bay, and Baretoun, the ancient Panetorium, lies a little beyond this. The name given to the place we encamped in is Berbetat-el-mudar. We here passed the following day to rest the horses, and to endeavour to obtain some supplies from the Arabs who are usually stationed here, but who now, at the instigation, I believe, of one of the sheikhs who were with us, had run away. They were probably within a few miles of our encampment, but so well concealed that every effort to discover their retreat was useless; and thus the visions of sheep and milk in which we had all been indulging were rendered illusory. From this place our course turned to the east, riding over a plain raised above the sea, of which we frequently caught a sight. Four hours eastwards is a place called, by the Arabs, Fuhah; and half an hour further on we came to the ruins of a small town whose walls are still to be traced. Nothing that remains indicates the name by which it may have been designated by Ptolemy, whose nomenclature is here, though so near Alexandria, singularly defective. In six hours more we encamped in a valley, surrounded by low hills, called Bu Jerabeh, containing several wells of bitter water, one only of which was drinkable. Here we found Sonagrah Arabs, whom their sheikh, Haj Chalil, prevented from running away, so that we werewell supplied with fresh butter, sour and sweet milk, and sheep, paying, of course, for all that we took.

I ought already to have presented the Haj Chalil to my reader, as he was the best of the Aoulad Ali whom I saw, and I exchanged with him on the road many a friendly joke. A day or two after my escort’s arrival in Siwah, a tall, stout man, of some fifty years, entered my room, with a certain mysteriously solemn and consequential air. When he had taken his place, he said to me, in a low voice, that he had something very secret to communicate to me. Of course, after learning that he was Sheikh Haj Chalil, I ordered that no one should be admitted during the conference. He told me, as if it had been a matter of life and death, that he was my cousin, there being only seven grandfathers between him and me. The relationship, thus precisely defined, tickled my fancy, and though I supposed he must refer to descent from Spanish Moors, I begged he would enlighten me on his pedigree. It seems that his ancestor, whom he called Songor (hence the name of the Sonagra Arabs), was a Frank boy, who had been washed on shore from a wreck near Sallum. He was seized by the Bedawin, made the property of the Sheikh of Aoulad Hharsuf, and in the end married his daughter, and became the patriarch of a new tribe. The Arabs have no idea that one Christian is not cousin to another; hence theclaim of relationship, which I acknowledged ever afterwards, calling him son of my uncle. It was not, however, only to have the pleasure of claiming relationship with me that he came so mysteriously; it was to beg that, in consideration of this, I would speak well of him to the Viceroy, so as to obtain his nomination as Great Sheikh of the Aoulad Ali, under which name are comprised the three tribes, Hharsuf, Sonagra, and Sinnĭna. I could not promise to interfere in a matter in which I could have no right to interest myself, and no power to be useful if I had done so; but when the occasion afterwards presented itself, in the course of conversation, I was not forgetful of my uncle’s son, though my good offices were unavailing, as his Highness had already decided on naming a sheikh from the Aoulad Hharsuf. And a lucky escape it was, too, for Haj Chalil, as the possessor of the coveted honour, within three months followed his predecessor on the road to Fazoughla—a sort of penal hell upon earth—where, if he have good luck, he will arrive, instead of being murdered, as the other is said to have been, at Girgeh; for, I suppose, one must call murder the condemning a man to one punishment, and secretly inflicting upon him a heavier one—the loss of his head.

From Bu Jerabah we travelled over a slightly-undulating country, covered with a short, wiry grass,called by the Arabs wild barley, which affords excellent pasture for horses, till we reached Turbiat, in five hours and a half. This was again a short day, as the camels and horses were too tired to proceed. Here, after much scolding and threatening of the Courbadj, we obtained a small supply of corn for the horses—a necessity which was not agreeable to Hassan Aga, as he had to pay here for what he required, while the corn he took in Siwah was levied as a contribution on the town. The Siwy persuaded the Arabs, who were glad to save their camels the extra weight, to assure the Commandant that corn was to be had in any quantity after the eighth day; but these same Arabs now took care to send on before us during the night, to warn all their fellows out of our way. As everything taken from the Arabs was fairly paid for, it seemed mere spite on the part of the sheikhs who were with us thus to increase the inconveniences of the journey, and I acknowledge I was not sorry to hear that one of the most troublesome among them had received from the Commandant’s own hands a rather severe drubbing. Twenty-five hours were employed the two following days in reaching the wells called El Hammam. We had now left the coast line, but the next day, an hour and a half after starting, having the Arabs’ Tower, or Abou Sir, the old Taposiris,in sight, we passed through extensive ruins, marking, perhaps, the site of Antiphræ, so famous for its wine—it was so bad. At a considerable distance to the right rise the flat hills of Hoshm el’Aish, which may be said to bound the district of Mariout. We only made nine hours this day, stopping at Caraya, where are five wells of ancient construction, the largest built with very solid masonry, having an orifice of twelve feet by three. The old Lake Mareotis is now an extensive plain, covered with dark shrubs, and dotted with low, yellow mounds.

Two thousand female dromedaries belonging to the Viceroy were stationed here for the pasturage, the best camel-browsing ground in Egypt. I wondered to what purpose these were applied, and admired his Highness’s tender solicitude for his stud of Arab horses, when I learned that, immediately after the mares foal, the dromedaries are sent up the country to supply them with milk. His horses are decidedly the best lodged, best fed, and best cared for of the present Pacha’s subjects. After passing two Marābut chapels, Abu Hadidj and Sheikh Masa’udi, which lay to the right, we came to the first village in Egypt, Gheitá, and stopped, eight hours from Caraya, at El Hamra. The next day was the last of our weary journey: in two hours we came to El Hhosh (Hhosh Ebro ’Isa),which is celebrated for its breed of falcons; and in six hours more we pitched our tents outside the flourishing town of Damanhour.

Here ended my desert journey, and it was not without feelings of pleasure that I found myself once more within the circuit of Eastern civilisation. But it must not be supposed that I left the desert without some feelings of regret. A prolonged sojourn in those vast plains of sand,—condemned to a perpetual sterility—a voyage over those waterless seas, is less devoid of interest than at first sight one might be led to expect. They offer, indeed, little variety, and they promise less; but this very monotony renders the traveller more attentive to the varied aspects which Nature even here presents, and awakens his attention to many an object which in more-favoured climes he would pass unobserved. The only variety of general feature is the passing from loose sand to more compact gravel, or from boundless plains, which the wearied eye ranges over without meeting an object on which to fix the gaze, to equally desert hills, whose sandy solitudes are undisturbed even by an echo. Sometimes, more awful still, one comes upon vast tracts covered with small, dark, loose fragments, giving a chocolate colour to the ground, which there seems to absorb the rays of the mid-day sun, but without reposing the eye from its glare. The camel here leaves no traces of his path,so that the solitary traveller must strain his sight to keep in view the distant caravan; the dry tramp of his horse alone disturbs the mournful silence; the sun is darting on him his most burning rays; and, from the colour of the ground, he seems to have lost even the companionship of his own shadow.

But this very silence, this monotonous absence of animation, are of themselves impressive, and soon acquire a peculiar charm for the imagination. The earth seems boundless as the ocean, not less cheerlessly uniform than a sea becalmed, and not less dangerously wild than it when roused by the strife of elements. The sky is pale in the glare of mid-day, but glows with the brightest tints as evening closes in; after sunset, it is again illuminated by the zodiacal light, which fades to disclose a surface of the deepest purple, spangled with thousands of stars, whose twinkling brightness surpasses anything that our northern climates can show. The desert, where no howling of wild beasts alarms the ear, no watch-fire proclaims the vicinity of fellow-men, affects one less with a sense of solitude than of vastness, and, like the sea, awakens feelings rather of the moral greatness with which man is endowed, than of the physical weakness which is his lot. Man, alone, can traverse the broad desert; I have been days without meeting the trace of a quadruped, or seeing a bird in the air; the wind-worn rocksbear no nourishment for the former, the restless sandwaves afford no prey to the latter.

When, in this sea of sand, one approaches the rare islands with which it is dotted, the eye is first attracted to the tracks worn by the jackals and gazelles, which, making their abodes during the day among the shrubless rocks, often twenty or thirty miles from water, at night go to drink and feed in the oasis. Then the sand is dotted with clumps of the zumaran, and other thick-leaved plants, whose roots, stretching along the surface, draw sufficient moisture for their existence from the air; round these may be marked the tiny footprints left by the nightly gambols of the gerboa. A clump of palm-trees, or a few mimosas, are at last seen on the horizon, and welcomed with joy by the thirsty caravan; the camels now increase their pace, the Arab’s step becomes more elastic, though it will be hours before the wished-for spring is reached. Round this are the blackened fire-places of former travellers, the deep claw-marks of the vultures, the tracks of the fox, the jackal, and the gazelle, the trail of the land tortoise, even the black, rough-backed beetle, patiently rolling its load towards its hole, each and all are welcome, as telling of the living world from which the traveller has been separated.

Desert travel has its pleasures as well as its tribulations.Of the former I have said but little in the preceding narrative, for hours of contemplation find no place in a note-book; of the latter I have said, perhaps, more than enough, for annoyances which in the retrospect are insignificant, seem proportionally great while one is suffering from them.

The time of actual travelling from Siwah to Damanhour was 155 hours, a fair journey of thirteen days, which is the time the caravans usually employ, while Alexandria is a day nearer. There is another road which is easier for the camels, following the coast line (in goingtoSiwah) from Berbetat el Mudar to Kasr Adjubah, one day and a half. Thence to Jarjub, the same distance; to Esh-Shamar, half a day; to Sallum, three days. Thence, turning northwards, to Bir el Hhamza, two days, and thence to Siwah, three days. The direct road to Siwah from Cairo is by Tervaneh and the Natron lakes, but by this route of eleven days there are four without water. From Siwah to Derna is a journey of fifteen days, and to Benghazi twenty days.

I will not detain the reader by an account of my adventures after reaching Damanhour. How the Turkish colonel of the Bashbuzuks came to meet me, and then was inclined to treat me somewhat cavalierly; how I recalled him to his senses, and how it endedin our kissing and being friends; and my then spending a night with him at Rachmania, from which place I embarked for Cairo.

This narration of a nine months’ journey, in countries little known, however uninterestingly told, is at least faithful. I believe, indeed, that the traveller who simply records what he sees with his eyes and hears with his ears, and indulges in none of the pleasures of the imagination, rarely meets with those stirring scenes which, beheld by the fancy and treated with the pen of an artist, so frequently charm the reader. My tale is true, and it relates to what may still be called unknown countries; and this is my reason for offering it to the public.

I am bound to express my obligations for the ready aid afforded me by Her Majesty’s Consul in Cairo, during the absence or leave of the accomplished Consul-General, whose departure, a few weeks after my arrival, was a subject of regret both to Turk and Frank. It would be unjust also to omit stating, that the Viceroy, within twenty-four hours of the arrival of my letter, despatched orders for the march of 150 soldiers to my relief; and, after my presentation to him in Cairo, ordered another party of 200 to be sent to disarm the town, and to bring forty-nine of the Siwy to Cairo to answer for their conduct.

Sheikh Yusuf is reinstated, in more than hisformer authority, with a garrison of twenty soldiers under his orders; so I flatter myself that my prophecy to the Shiekhs of Siwah, that I should be the last European they would ill-treat, is now fulfilled. I can now have the satisfaction of feeling, that my successors in the exploration of the antiquities of that country will meet with no obstacles to their researches.

FINIS.

Woodfall and Kinder, Printers, Angel Court, Skinner Street, London.

FOOTNOTES:[1]In the morning it emits a perfume, which is delicious in the open air, but in a closed space I should think stupifying, like the Circean enchantments; it is said to be that with which Circe fumigated her grotto.[2]At all the wells many Arabs were to be seen; and occasionally horsemen were met with, but generally two or three together; for though the country is now peaceful enough, the associations of other days seemed to deter them from venturing out singly. In no part of the road did we see a trace of an encampment, and the whole country seemed deserted excepting in the neighbourhood of the wells. On my remarking this to my guide, he said that the country was filled with inhabitants, but that they pitch their tents in the places least likely to be visited by passers by, to avoid too frequent calls on their hospitality. The Arabs here have a great reputation for this virtue, but it appears that they are not ambitious of exercising it.[3]When at Derna I was unable to obtain information concerning the origin of the American battery which seemed here so strangely out of place. I am indebted to Edwin De Leon, Esq., Consul-General for the U.S. in Egypt, for the following account of it. Achmed, Pasha of Tripoli, having been deposed by his brother Yusuf in 1801, took refuge in Tunis. Before long the new pasha found himself embroiled with the U.S., through capturing some vessels bearing their flag. Determined to punish him, they offered the ex-pasha the means of recovering his throne, but after long negotiations he left Malta without effecting anything, and retired to Egypt. His American allies had not, however, lost sight of him, and they induced him, by a grant of supplies and the nomination of an officer in their service, General Eaton, who took the command of his forces, to march upon Derna. Of this place he easily got possession, and it was then that this battery was erected. After a few months, being deserted by his allies, who made a treaty with Yusuf Pasha, in which his interests seem to have been little cared for, he retired to Malta, and thence to Syracuse, where he lived, partly supported by occasional sums granted by the Government of the U.S., partly by a small pension which their representative obtained for him from his brother. After various vicissitudes, he returned to Egypt, where, as the guest of Mohammed Ali, he enjoyed a liberal income. On his death a part of this was transferred to his only son, but was suppressed by Abbas Pasha. I found the son, now an old man, bedridden with palsy, in a state of frightful destitution, dependent for his support on the charity of servants. Mr. De Leon applied to the present Viceroy to obtain a restoration of the pension the son had so long enjoyed, and by his recommendation induced the Minister of the U.S. at Constantinople to ask the Porte to restore a small property in Tripoli, once belonging to his father, and of which he had enjoyed the revenue during the late Pasha’s reign, but which the Ottoman Government seized for its own benefit after his deposition. Hussein Bey Caramanly, the surviving son of Achmed Pasha, is, as his father was before him, an American protégé, up to the present time a very useless title, but from which he is now, thanks to Mr. De Leon’s energy, likely to obtain some advantage. His father’s story, in all its details, is told in the Acts of Congress, 1807-8.[4]Johan. von Müller.[5]Since writing this I have learned that a recent decree gives to the evidence of Christians the same force as that of a Moslem.[6]Since these lines were written (in 1853), a decree is said to have been published, abolishing the trade in slaves throughout the Ottoman Empire. In Cairo, in Alexandria, it is at this moment as active as ever.—Cairo, 15th July, 1855.[7]On referring to Beechey’s Narrative, since these pages were written, I find that he speaks of Ras Sem as a name unknown to the Arabs to designate the promontory marked thus in our maps. The coast, from a few miles west of Apollonia, has a very gradual inclination southwards, but so slight that it is impossible to designate even the place from which it begins to turn as a headland. Shaw and Bruce’s account of the well five or six days south of Benghazi agrees perfectly with the place called by the Arabs R’sam; and although the very bitter well is eight hours further on, there can be no doubt it is to this place that they allude. The petrified city, with its inhabitants, does not exist; its magnificent castle is only the Saracenic building, now called Sheikh Es-saby; but the ground is to some distance strewed with petrified wood. The dream of the city where “men are conspicuous in different attitudes, some of them exercising their trades and occupations, and women giving suck to their children,” is due, of course, to Arab imagination, and not to those truthful travellers.[8]A description of Waday has been published in French, translated from a MS. of the Shiekh Mohammed El Tounsy, who was there about 1814, and who still lives in Cairo attached to one of the mosques.[9]How to make the Djin descend.Write in the right palm of a boy or girl, below the age of puberty, the seal which is here given, and fumigate with coriander seed, which among the Djin are counted apples, and conjure them with the Surah “and the Sun” to the end, until they come down. Then ask them what you desire to know, and they will answer you with the permission of God (be he exalted!); and this is what you write on the forehead of the child:—فكشفنا عنك عطاكفبصرك اليوم صحچAnd then you write the seal, and in the midst of it make a spot of ink; and when you wish to dismiss the kings, conjure them with the verse of the throne, and they will depart by permission of God. This is the seal as you see it here, and there is no power and no strength but in God.[10]I am inclined to suppose that after the dead had undergone the process of mummifying, and had been wrapped in their casements, they were covered with a coating of stucco: I have a piece of fine white plaster which I picked in one of the tombs, one-third of an inch thick, in which are the impression of a limb and fragments of cloth.[11]The taxes in Siwah are levied on the date and olive trees, at the rate of 2½ piastres on each tree, yielding an annual revenue of 10,000 dollars. From this tax the waddy date-trees, whose fruit is used for feeding the cattle, and which amount to 90,000, are excepted.

[1]In the morning it emits a perfume, which is delicious in the open air, but in a closed space I should think stupifying, like the Circean enchantments; it is said to be that with which Circe fumigated her grotto.

[2]At all the wells many Arabs were to be seen; and occasionally horsemen were met with, but generally two or three together; for though the country is now peaceful enough, the associations of other days seemed to deter them from venturing out singly. In no part of the road did we see a trace of an encampment, and the whole country seemed deserted excepting in the neighbourhood of the wells. On my remarking this to my guide, he said that the country was filled with inhabitants, but that they pitch their tents in the places least likely to be visited by passers by, to avoid too frequent calls on their hospitality. The Arabs here have a great reputation for this virtue, but it appears that they are not ambitious of exercising it.

[3]When at Derna I was unable to obtain information concerning the origin of the American battery which seemed here so strangely out of place. I am indebted to Edwin De Leon, Esq., Consul-General for the U.S. in Egypt, for the following account of it. Achmed, Pasha of Tripoli, having been deposed by his brother Yusuf in 1801, took refuge in Tunis. Before long the new pasha found himself embroiled with the U.S., through capturing some vessels bearing their flag. Determined to punish him, they offered the ex-pasha the means of recovering his throne, but after long negotiations he left Malta without effecting anything, and retired to Egypt. His American allies had not, however, lost sight of him, and they induced him, by a grant of supplies and the nomination of an officer in their service, General Eaton, who took the command of his forces, to march upon Derna. Of this place he easily got possession, and it was then that this battery was erected. After a few months, being deserted by his allies, who made a treaty with Yusuf Pasha, in which his interests seem to have been little cared for, he retired to Malta, and thence to Syracuse, where he lived, partly supported by occasional sums granted by the Government of the U.S., partly by a small pension which their representative obtained for him from his brother. After various vicissitudes, he returned to Egypt, where, as the guest of Mohammed Ali, he enjoyed a liberal income. On his death a part of this was transferred to his only son, but was suppressed by Abbas Pasha. I found the son, now an old man, bedridden with palsy, in a state of frightful destitution, dependent for his support on the charity of servants. Mr. De Leon applied to the present Viceroy to obtain a restoration of the pension the son had so long enjoyed, and by his recommendation induced the Minister of the U.S. at Constantinople to ask the Porte to restore a small property in Tripoli, once belonging to his father, and of which he had enjoyed the revenue during the late Pasha’s reign, but which the Ottoman Government seized for its own benefit after his deposition. Hussein Bey Caramanly, the surviving son of Achmed Pasha, is, as his father was before him, an American protégé, up to the present time a very useless title, but from which he is now, thanks to Mr. De Leon’s energy, likely to obtain some advantage. His father’s story, in all its details, is told in the Acts of Congress, 1807-8.

[4]Johan. von Müller.

[5]Since writing this I have learned that a recent decree gives to the evidence of Christians the same force as that of a Moslem.

[6]Since these lines were written (in 1853), a decree is said to have been published, abolishing the trade in slaves throughout the Ottoman Empire. In Cairo, in Alexandria, it is at this moment as active as ever.—Cairo, 15th July, 1855.

[7]On referring to Beechey’s Narrative, since these pages were written, I find that he speaks of Ras Sem as a name unknown to the Arabs to designate the promontory marked thus in our maps. The coast, from a few miles west of Apollonia, has a very gradual inclination southwards, but so slight that it is impossible to designate even the place from which it begins to turn as a headland. Shaw and Bruce’s account of the well five or six days south of Benghazi agrees perfectly with the place called by the Arabs R’sam; and although the very bitter well is eight hours further on, there can be no doubt it is to this place that they allude. The petrified city, with its inhabitants, does not exist; its magnificent castle is only the Saracenic building, now called Sheikh Es-saby; but the ground is to some distance strewed with petrified wood. The dream of the city where “men are conspicuous in different attitudes, some of them exercising their trades and occupations, and women giving suck to their children,” is due, of course, to Arab imagination, and not to those truthful travellers.

[8]A description of Waday has been published in French, translated from a MS. of the Shiekh Mohammed El Tounsy, who was there about 1814, and who still lives in Cairo attached to one of the mosques.

[9]How to make the Djin descend.Write in the right palm of a boy or girl, below the age of puberty, the seal which is here given, and fumigate with coriander seed, which among the Djin are counted apples, and conjure them with the Surah “and the Sun” to the end, until they come down. Then ask them what you desire to know, and they will answer you with the permission of God (be he exalted!); and this is what you write on the forehead of the child:—فكشفنا عنك عطاكفبصرك اليوم صحچAnd then you write the seal, and in the midst of it make a spot of ink; and when you wish to dismiss the kings, conjure them with the verse of the throne, and they will depart by permission of God. This is the seal as you see it here, and there is no power and no strength but in God.

[9]How to make the Djin descend.

Write in the right palm of a boy or girl, below the age of puberty, the seal which is here given, and fumigate with coriander seed, which among the Djin are counted apples, and conjure them with the Surah “and the Sun” to the end, until they come down. Then ask them what you desire to know, and they will answer you with the permission of God (be he exalted!); and this is what you write on the forehead of the child:—

فكشفنا عنك عطاكفبصرك اليوم صحچ

فكشفنا عنك عطاك

فبصرك اليوم صحچ

And then you write the seal, and in the midst of it make a spot of ink; and when you wish to dismiss the kings, conjure them with the verse of the throne, and they will depart by permission of God. This is the seal as you see it here, and there is no power and no strength but in God.

[10]I am inclined to suppose that after the dead had undergone the process of mummifying, and had been wrapped in their casements, they were covered with a coating of stucco: I have a piece of fine white plaster which I picked in one of the tombs, one-third of an inch thick, in which are the impression of a limb and fragments of cloth.

[11]The taxes in Siwah are levied on the date and olive trees, at the rate of 2½ piastres on each tree, yielding an annual revenue of 10,000 dollars. From this tax the waddy date-trees, whose fruit is used for feeding the cattle, and which amount to 90,000, are excepted.

Transcriber's note:pg117Changed: which lead to to it to: which lead to itpg152Changed: Bon Jera’a to: Bou Jera’apg204Changed: Ijherri, إِجهّري to: إِجهرّيpg298Changed: Cailland to: Caillaudpg303Changed: Er-Rocheia, الرحيه, to: Er-Rocheia, الرحيه.All instances of Angila changed to: AugilaAdded some periods in the table of contents and chapter summaries.Other spelling and formatting inconsistencies have been left unchanged.New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.

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