“We threw down some stones, and observed that they rested at about the depth which Greaves has mentioned; but being at length provided with a stone nearly as large as the mouth of the well, and about fifty pounds in weight, we let this fall, listening attentively to the result from the spot where the other stones rested: we were agreeably surprised by hearing, after a length of time which must have equaled some seconds, a loud and distinct report, seeming to come from a spacious subterraneous apartment, accompanied by a splashing noise, as if the stone had been broken in pieces, and had fallen into a reservoir of water at an amazing depth. Thus does experience always tend to confirm the accounts left us by the ancients; for this exactly answers to the description given by Pliny of this well.
“After once more regaining the passage whence these ducts diverge, we examined the chamber at the end of it, mentioned by all who have described the interior of this building. Its roof is angular; that is to say, it is formed by the inclination of large masses of stone leaning toward each other, like the appearance presented by those masses which are above the entrance to the pyramid. Then quitting the passage altogether, we climbed the slippery and difficult ascent which leads to what is called the principal chamber. The workmanship, from its perfection, and its immense proportions, is truly astonishing. All about the spectator, as he proceeds, is full of majesty, and mystery, and wonder. Presently we entered that ‘glorious roome,’ as it is justly called by Greaves, where, ‘as within some consecrated oratory, art may seem to have contended with nature.’ It stands ‘in the very heart and center of the pyramid, equidistant from all its sides, and almost in the midst between the basis and the top. The floor, the sides, the roof of it, are all made of vast and exquisite tables of Thebaick marble.’ So nicely are these masses fitted to each other upon the sides of the chamber, that, having no cement between them, it is really impossible to force the blade of a knife within the joints. This has been often related before; but we actually tried the experiment, and found it to be true. There are only six ranges of stone from the floor to the roof, which is twenty feet high; and the length of the chamber is about twelve yards. It is also about six yards wide. The roof or ceiling consists of only nine pieces, of stupendous size and length, traversing the room from side to side, and lying, like enormous beams, across the top.”
Mr. Salt, the traveler, having paid a later visit to the principal pyramid, in company with a British officer, ascertained that the short descending passage at its entrance, which afterward ascends to the two chambers, is continued in a straight line through the base of the pyramid into the rock on which it stands. This new passage, a view of which is given in the cut below, after joining what was formerly called the well, is continued forward in a horizontal line, and terminates in a well, ten feet in depth, exactly beneath the apex of the pyramid, and at the depth of one hundred feet beneath its base. Mr. Salt’s companion likewise discovered an apartment immediately above the king’s chamber, exactly of the same size, and of the same fine workmanship, but only four feet in hight.
ENTRANCE TO ONE OF THE PYRAMIDS OF GIZEH.
The base of the pyramid of Cephrenes, the next in magnitude, of the pyramids of Gizeh, to that of Cheops, is estimated at six hundred and fifty-five feet, and its hight at three hundred and ninety-eight. The pyramid of Mycerinus has a base of two hundred and eighty feet, and an elevation of one hundred and sixty-two. But, as well suggested by Thompson, in his “Egypt Past and Present,” no mere detail of figures and statistics, can convey an idea of the size of these vast bodies as they impress us when we stand before them. “No idea,” he says, “can be given of the great pyramid, by the statement that it covers an area of nearly five hundred and fifty thousand square feet, measures seven hundred and fifty feet upon each of its four sides at the base, and is four hundred and sixty feet in hight, or that it would fill the whole length of Washington square in New York, and exceed its breadth by half, and would rise nearly two hundred feet higher than the spire of Trinity church. The mass of masonry is what impresses you. Eighty-five million cubic feet of solid masonry, gives you no very definite idea of the mass of stone here piled together with such mathematical precision that astronomical calculations could be based upon its angles and shadows. No, you must see the mass itself, not now smooth and polished, as when originally completed, but stripped of its outer casing, and showing tier on tier of huge stones squared and fitted at mathematical angles, and now forming a series of rude steps, each from two to four feet high, extending to the very top. That top is now a platform about thirty feet square; and the view from its elevation is unparalleled in the world! Before you is Cairo, with its lofty minarets, and its overhanging citadel, the mountains of Mokuttam skirting its rear; the green valley of the Nile is spread out for miles northward and southward; at your feet are the mounds of sand that cover the ancient Memphis; southward is the whole range of pyramids to Sakkara; behind you are fragments of other pyramids, the Libyan mountains, and the wide waste of the great desert. But the present is lost in the associations of the past. You are standing upon a monument that is known to have stood within a score of four thousand years; that was as old as are our associations of Plymouth rock, when Abraham came into Egypt, and journeyed to Memphis to enjoy the favor of the king. He looked with wondering eyes upon this self-same monument, and heard the then dim tradition of the tyrant, who, having built it for his own sepulcher by the sweat and blood of half a million of his subjects, was compelled to beg of his friends to bury him privately in some secret place, lest after his death, his body should be dragged by the people from the hated tomb!”
The pyramids of Sakkara, which are numerous, are interesting on account of the peculiarities of their structure. The largest of them is of an irregular form, the line of the terminating angle being sloped like a buttress reversed. Another, of a middling size, is composed of stages rising one above another. The smaller ones are greatly decayed; but the whole occupy an extent of two leagues. This multitude of pyramids scattered over the district of Sakkara, Denon observes, prove that this territory was the necropolis (city of the dead) to the south of Memphis, and that the village opposite to this, in which the pyramids of Gizeh are situated, was another necropolis, which formed the northern extremity of Memphis. The extent of that ancient city may thus be measured.
To these interesting accounts of this group of the pyramids, may be subjoined the graphic sketch of Bayard Taylor, who visited them so recently as 1851. “When we threw open the latticed blinds of our cabin, before sunrise the next morning, the extraordinary purity of the air gave rise to an amusing optical delusion on the part of my friend. ‘See that wall!’ said he, pointing to a space between two white houses; ‘what a brilliant color it is painted, and how those palms and these white houses are relieved against it!’ He was obliged to look twice before he perceived that what he had taken for a wall close at hand, was really the sky, and rested upon a far-off horizon. Our donkeys were in readiness on the bank, and taking Achmet with us, we rode off gayly among the mud hovels and under the date-trees of Gizeh, on our way to the pyramids. The rising sun shone redly upon them, as we rode out on the broad harvest land of the Nile. The black unctuous loam was still too moist from the inundation to be plowed, except in spots, here and there, but even where the water had scarce evaporated, millions of germs were pushing their slender blades up to the sunshine. In that prolific soil, the growth of grain is visible from day to day. The Fellahs were at work on all sides, preparing for planting, and the ungainly buffaloes drew their long plows slowly through the soil. Where freshly turned, the earth had a rich, soft luster, like dark-brown velvet, beside which the fields of young wheat, beans and lentils, glittered with the most brilliant green. The larks sang in the air and flocks of white pigeons clustered like blossoms on the tops of the sycamores. There, in November, it was the freshest and most animating picture of spring. The direct road to the pyramids was impassable, on account of the water, and we rode along the top of a dike, intersected by canals, to the edge of the Libyan desert, a distance of nearly ten miles. The ruptures in the dike obliged us occasionally to dismount, and at the last canal, which cuts off the advancing sands from the bounteous plain on the other side, our donkeys were made to swim, while we were carried across on the shoulders of two naked Arabs. They had run out in advance to meet us, hailing us with many English and French phrases, while half a dozen boys, with earthen bottles which they had just filled from the slimy canal, crowded after them, insisting, in very good English, that we should drink at once and take them with us to the pyramids.
“Our donkeys’ hoofs now sank deep in the Libyan sands, and we looked up to the great stone-piles of Cheops, Cephrenes and Mycerinus, not more than half a mile distant. Our sunrise view of the pyramids on leaving Gizeh, was sufficient, had I gone no further; and I approached them, without the violent emotion which sentimental travelers experience, but with a quiet feeling of the most perfect satisfaction. The form of the pyramid is so simple and complete, that nothing is left to the imagination. Those vast, yellowish-gray masses, whose feet are wrapped in the silent sand, and whose tops lean against the serene blue heaven, enter the mind and remain in the memory with no shock of surprise, no stir of unexpected admiration. The impression they give and leave, is calm, grand and enduring as themselves.
“The sun glared hot on the sand as we toiled up the ascent to the base of Cheops, whose sharp corners were now broken into zigzags by the layers of stone. As we dismounted in his shadow, at the foot of the path which leads up to the entrance, on the northern side, a dozen Arabs beset us. They belonged to the regular herd who have the pyramids in charge, and are so renowned for their impudence that it is customary to employ the janissary of some consulate in Cairo, as a protection. I took three of them and commenced the ascent, leaving Achmet and my friend below. Two boys followed us, with bottles of water. At first, the way seemed hazardous, for the stones were covered with sand and fragments which had fallen from above, but after we had mounted twenty courses, the hard, smooth blocks of granite formed broader and more secure steps. Two Arabs went before, one holding each of my hands, while the third shoved me up from the rear. The assistance thus rendered was not slight, for few of the stones are less than four feet in hight. The water-boys scampered up beside us with the agility of cats. We stopped a moment to take breath, at a sort of resting-place half-way up, an opening in the pyramid, communicating with the uppermost of the interior chambers. I had no sooner sat down on the nearest stone, than the Arabs stretched themselves at my feet and entertained me with most absurd mixture of flattery and menace. One, patting the calves of my legs, cried out, ‘Oh, what fine, strong legs! how fast they came up: nobody ever went up the pyramid so fast!’ while the others added, ‘Here you must give us backsheesh: everybody gives us a dollar here.’ My only answer was, to get up and begin climbing, and they did not cease pulling and pushing till they left me breathless on the summit. The whole ascent did not occupy more than ten minutes.