Egypt of the Pharaohs and of the Khedivé

by F. Barham Zincke

This is what the Nile did in the historic period for at least two hundred miles of its course. It planed down this part of its channel to a lower level, to what may be called the level of Egypt. Why should it not have done precisely the same work in the prehistoric period for, in round numbers, the four hundred miles from Silsiléh to Cairo, that is to say, for the whole valley of Egypt? That is just what I believe it did. Of course, there were aboriginal facilities which decided it upon taking that course. There may also have been greater depressions in some places than in others. There was harder work here, and lighter work there. The planing was carried on rapidly in one district, and slowly in another. But I believe that, after making whatever deductions may be thought proper for aboriginal depressions, it is safe to conclude that the valley of Egypt was, in the main, cut out by the Nile. It did not begin to obtain its abrading power after the reign of Amenemha III.

There may have been a cataract once at Cairo. When this was carried away, another must have been developed somewhere above its site, and so on backwards all the way to Silsiléh, where we are sure that there was once something of the kind. In a still remoter past the river may not have come as far north as Cairo, but may have passed through the Faioum, or by the Natron Lakes, into the desert. This is a question which, to some degree, admits of investigation.

The river would not always be bearing on the same side of the valley. A little change in any part of the channel, and which might result from any one of a variety of causes, would deflect its course. It is so with all rivers. These causes are always everywhere at work. The river would thus be always shifting from one side of the valley to the other; and, impinging in turn on the opposite bounding hills, would always be widening the valley.

The number of side canals, especially the Bahr Jusuf, which, throughout almost the whole length of the valley, is a second Nile, running parallel to the original river, must, during the historical period, by lessening the volume of water in the main channel, have very much lessened its power of shifting its course. But every one who voyages on the Nile will become aware that this power is still very great. He will often hear, and see, large portions of the incoherent bank falling into the water. In many places he will observe the fresh face of recent landslips. On the summit of these slips he will occasionally have presented to him interior sections of some of the houses of a village which is being carried away by the stream.

On the fresh faces of recent slips I often observed that the stratification was unconformable, and irregular. This indicated that the sand and mud out of which the alluvium had been formed, had not been deposited at the bottom of a quiet lake-like inundation, but must have been formed at the bottom of a running stream, precisely in the same way as the sand-banks and mud-banks of the existing channel are always at the present time being formed. This irregular stratification is just what we might expect to find in the alluvium of a valley through which runs a mighty river, always restlessly shifting its channel to the right, or to the left.

To experts in geology there will be but little, or nothing, new in the above given account of the process, by which the Nile formed Egypt. All river valleys have been formed, more or less, by the action of running water. It is, however, interesting both to those who are familiar, and to those who are not, with such investigations, to trace out the steps of the process, in such a manner as to be able to construct a connected view of as many of its details as can be recovered. In any case this would be interesting; but here it has an exceptional, and quite peculiar, interest, for it enables us to picture to the mind’s eye how the whole of the most historical country in the world was formed by the most historical river in the world—a physical operation, on which much that man has achieved, and, indeed, on which what man is himself at this day, very largely depended. Pictures of this kind are only one among the many helpful contributions, which science can now make to history.

I was not in Egypt during the time of the inundation; I can, therefore, only repeat on the authority of others, that for the first few days it has a green tint. This is supposed to be caused by the first rush of the descending torrents sweeping off a great deal of stagnant water from the distant interior of Darfour. This green Nile is held to be unwholesome, and the natives prepare themselves for it by storing up, in anticipation, what water they will require for these few days. The green is succeeded by a red tint. This is caused by the surface washing of districts where the soil is red. The red water, though heavily charged with soil, is not unwholesome. With respect to the amount of red in the colour of the water of the inundation, I found it stated in a work which is sometimes quoted as an authority on Egyptian subjects, that it is so great that the water might be mistaken for blood. This I do not understand, as the soil this water leaves behind has in its colour no trace of red. By the time the water of the inundation reaches the Delta, it has got rid of the greater part of its impurities. This causes the rise of the land in the Delta to be far slower than in Upper Egypt. In winter, when the inundation has completely subsided, the water, though still charged with mud, in which, however, there is no trace of red, is pleasant to drink, and quite innocuous. The old Egyptians represented in their wall-paintings these three conditions of the river by green, red, and blue water.

For myriads of years this mighty river has been bringing down from the highlands of Abyssinia and Central Africa its freight of fertile soil, the sole means of life, and of all that embellished life, to those who invented letters, and built Karnak. It is still as bountiful as ever it was of old to the people who now dwell upon its banks; but to what poor account do they turn its bounty! How great is the contrast between the wretchedness this bounty now maintains, and the splendour, the wealth, the arts, the intellectual and moral life it maintained four and five thousand years ago!

The Egyptians have a saying, with which, I think, most of those who have travelled in Egypt will agree, that he who has once drunk the water of the Nile will wish to drink it again.