The Cartouches of Usertesen.
On the spot occupied by this obelisk there formerly stood a temple dedicated to the sun—to Ra, the rising sun; and to Toum or Tum, the setting sun. It is uncertain whether Usertesen founded the temple himself, or whether, as was the custom among the Pharaohs of Egypt, he simply contributed to its decoration and completion. But his name being sculptured on the face of the obelisk, serves to identify it with him. The temple of the sun was surrounded with habitations and temples of inferior mark, and became a city which, in their language, the Greeks named Heliopolis. Originally, there were two of these obelisks, as was lately corroborated by the discovery of the foundation of its fellow; but the shaft itself has long since disappeared, and nothing, save this one solitary obelisk, remains of the important city, in which Egyptians and Hebrews were united for many centuries in holy brotherhood. This monument, like the rest of the great obelisks of Egypt, was hewn in the quarries of rose-red granite of Syené. It is 67 feet 4 inches in height, and its pyramidion, now bare and without carving, was originally capped with gilt-bronze or some other metallic covering. Its hieroglyphs form a single central column, boldly and clearly carved, surmounted with the tutelar emblem and the standard of the king, and followed by the proper name and family name of Usertesen. The obelisk is stained for some distance up its shaft by the waters of the Nile, and, with its pedestal, is buried six or seven feet deep in the alluvium deposited by the stream.
While we credit Usertesen with these two obelisks, we have also to mention that portions of a broken shaft, engraven with hieroglyphs, which record his name, are to be met with at Biggig, in the Fyoom. These have been described as parts of a broken obelisk, but of an obelisk uncouth in its proportions, and terminated by a rounded point pierced with an opening as if for the purpose of receiving some ornament or finial. These characteristics of figure have led certain Egyptologists to treat of it as a monumental stone or tablet rather than as an obelisk, and the more so as it is situated on the western bank of the Nile; and supposing it to be an obelisk, is presumed to be the only monument of that kind met with on the western shore. A certain poetical hypothesis is also opposed to the belief; for the obelisk is the emblem of the rising sun and of life, and is therefore found only on the eastern bank of the Nile; whereas the western bank is presided over by the setting sun, and is therefore allied to the pyramids and tombs of the dead. The mounds of Memphis have not as yet been explored; but if an obelisk should be met with there at some future time, our dream of the privileges of the living and of the dead (already disturbed by Mariette’s discovery of the pedestals of two obelisks, in front of the temple of Queen Hatasou, in Western Thebes), must share the fate of other pretty but illusory dreams. It seems hardly fair that the eastern bank should enjoy a monopoly of the sun’s beaming rays, considering that tombs are also abundant along its rocky bounds.
But besides the ancient obelisks of Usertesen, there were four or more other obelisks at Heliopolis: two, which had received the name of Pharaoh’s Needles, and were removed by Constantine—both of the period of Thothmes III.; and the two Thothmes-Rameses obelisks, or Cleopatra’s Needles, which were set up at Alexandria.
When Napoleon, addressing his army in the desert of Libya, and pointing to the Pyramids, exclaimed, “Four thousand years look down upon you,” his words had a deeper signification than the mere wakening up of a soldier’s vanity. What, besides, have those Pyramids witnessed in that vast space of time? We now, in our turn, are called upon to ask the same question with reference to the obelisks of Heliopolis. The most ancient of those obelisks bears a date of seventeen centuries before the Christian era; not far short of the four thousand years of the Great Pyramids. The Thothmes obelisks date back about fourteen centuries before Christ, or more than three thousand years from the present time; and those of Rameses about twelve centuries, or 3,100 years.
The Heliopolis obelisk, it is true, was not erected until two hundred years after the arrival of Abraham in the land of Goshen; but it must have “looked down” on the caravan of Ishmaelite traders who brought Joseph a prisoner into Egypt, and sold him to Potiphar as a slave; on his sufferings and adventures in prison; on his skill in the interpretation of dreams; on his elevation to power by the Pharaoh of the day; and on that gratifying ceremony, when “Pharaoh called Joseph’s name Zaphnath-paaneah,” literally, revealer of secrets, “and when he gave him to wife Asenath, the daughter of Potipherah, priest of On.” And no less does the obelisk point to that moment of filial devotion when “Joseph made ready his chariot, and went up to meet Israel his father, to Goshen; and presented himself unto him; and he fell on his neck, and wept on his neck a good while.”
In the way from Cairo to Heliopolis, and near to the ruins of the latter, is a village called Matareeah, which has a similar signification to the word Heliopolis—namely, “town or place belonging to the sun.” “Just before reaching the village of Matareeah, at a little distance from the road, on the right, is the garden in which is shown the sycamore tree,[20] beneath whose shade the Holy Family are said to have reposed alter the flight into Egypt. It is a splendid old tree, still showing signs of life, but terribly mauled alike by the devout and the profane, who, respectively, have forgotten their piety and their scepticism in the egotistical eagerness to carry away and to leave a record of their visit. The present proprietor, a Copt, fearing lest their united efforts should result in the total disappearance and destruction of the tree, has put a fence round it, which, while it prevents the ruthless tearing off of twigs and branches, affords those who are anxious to commemorate their visit, a smooth and even surface, on which, with the help of a knife obligingly kept in readiness by the gardener, they may make their mark.”[21]
We are now on the confines of the desert, where the air is reputed for its salubrity; and fifteen miles further on, at a distance of three miles from the river, Professor Flower takes notice of a warm sulphur spring, called Helwân, or Helouan des Bains, which has already been appropriated by invalids, and is likely to become a rival of Aix-la-Chapelle, the baths of Switzerland, and those of the Pyrenees. Professor Flower informs us that a commodious bath establishment has been built on the spot, and has attracted the attention of numerous visitors. The temperature of the springs is 86° of Fahrenheit. A quarter of a century ago, Mr. Bayle St. John writes of Helwân as follows:—“We had resolved to visit the village of Helwân, parts of which we could just distinguish from our mooring-ground, peeping between groves of palms, sycamores, and acacias * * * with the bold line of rocks beyond. * * * The village, which has many neat houses, is approached on all sides between the lofty mud walls of gardens, full of trees, that, drooping over, form not unpicturesque avenues. An expanse of greensward, surrounded with sycamores, extends on one hand: altogether, the place is more agreeable to the eye than the generality of the Egyptian villages, principally on account of the great variety of foliage that nestles around it; for there are palms, and sycamores, and fig-trees and orange-trees, and locust-trees, and bananas and pomegranates. An immense number of doves cooed amorously in the branches.”