Three lines of hieroglyphics adorn each of the four faces of either monument. My brother tells me that the central line bears the title and name of Thothmos the Third, who appears, from strong evidence, to have reigned shortly before the departure of the Israelites from Egypt: the lateral lines were sculptured at a later period; for they bear the name of Rameses the Great, or Sesostris. The inscriptions near the base of the erect obelisk seemed nearly obliterated, and the prostrate one is so encumbered with rubbish, that much of it is concealed. Pliny relates that Rameses erected four obelisks at Heliopolis: those of Alexandria are perhaps two of the four thus alluded to. Their antiquity being so much greater than that of Alexandria, suggests the probability of their having been taken from Heliopolis to adorn a temple or palace in the new city. The fact of the name of Rameses the Great being sculptured on them may have given rise to the tradition that they were erected by that king. An adjacent fort occupies the site of an old tower which belonged to the former wall (that is, to the old wall of the Arab city), and which was called by European travellers “the Tower of the Romans;” as it was apparently of Roman origin. Near this, standing on a mound of rubbish, we saw the shore of the new harbour, behind the wall on the left of the fort.
When the British army was in Alexandria in 1801, operations were commenced for transporting the fallen obelisk to England; but the commander-in-chief refusing to sanction the undertaking, it was abandoned, and nothing is said of its being resumed, although Mohammed ’Alee offered the monument to us some years ago.
After viewing the obelisks, we thankfully turned homewards, for the sun had risen, and the heat became intense.
Not far from the eastern gate (perhaps two miles and a half) is the field of the memorable battle of the 21st of March, 1801, in which Sir Ralph Abercrombie, who commanded our victorious army, received his mortal wound. At the spot where the battle raged most furiously, by the sea-shore, is a quadrangular enclosure, surrounded by substantial, but now ruined walls, constructed of calcareous stone and large bricks, in distinct layers, like many other Roman buildings. The ruin is called Kasr-el-Káyasireh (or the Pavilion, or Palace, of the Cæsars). It marks the site of a small town, which received the name of Nicopolis, in commemoration of a famous victory obtained there by Octavius Cæsar over Antony.
The pillar called Pompey’s is undoubtedly a magnificent monument. The shaft of the column is a single block of red granite, sixty-eight feet in height, and nine feet in diameter at the bottom, according to my brother’s measurement. The capital is a block of the same kind of stone, and is ten feet high. The base, plinth, and pedestal are likewise of red granite, and each is a single block. The combined length of these three pieces is seventeen feet. The total height of this superb monument is therefore ninety-five feet; and the substructure, which is partly modern, is four feet in height. The shaft is beautifully wrought, but sadly disfigured by numerous names inscribed in very large characters, with black paint. They have mostly been written by persons who have ascended to the summit. This they have contrived by flying a large paper kite, and causing it to descend so that the cord rested on the top of the capital; by these means, they succeeded in drawing a stout rope over it; and having accomplished this (to use the naval term) they easily “rigged shrouds,” by which to ascend. This exploit has been performed several times, generally by naval officers, who have caused the name of their ship to be painted on the shaft.
Among the adventurers, an English lady once ascended to the summit. There is a Greek inscription on the pedestal, but it can only be faintly seen when the rays of the sun fall obliquely upon the surface of the stone. Every traveller who examined the Pillar since the time of Pococke believed the inscription to be entirely obliterated, until Colonel Squire again discovered it. That gentleman with Mr. Hamilton and Colonel Leake deciphered (with the exception of a few characters) the lines, four in number, which record the dedication, by a “Prefect of Egypt” (whose name is almost illegible), to the “most revered Emperor, the protecting divinity of Alexandria, Diocletian the Invincible.” The name of the “Prefect” also has since been deciphered by Sir Gardner Wilkinson—it is Publius. This inscription certainly proves that the column, or the building in which it stood, was dedicated to the Roman emperor whose name is thus recorded, but not that the column was erected in honour of that individual, any more than the lateral lines on the obelisks which I have described prove that they were erected in the reign of Sesostris.
I may here briefly give you the tradition respecting the burning of the Alexandrian library (deriving my information from my brother), which took place in the time of ’Omar, as it is connected with the history of the great pillar. ’Abd-el-Lateef and El-Makreezee affirm, that this pillar originally belonged to a magnificent building, containing a library, which ’Amr, the Arab general, burned by the command of ’Omar. A particular account of the burning of this library is given by Abu-l-Faraj; but the statement of that author has been disbelieved, because the story is related by few other writers; yet why should they record what they considered an event of scarcely any importance? It is evident from the slight manner in which ’Abd-el-Lateef and El-Makreezee mention the fact, that they regarded it as a very unimportant occurrence. They allude to it merely as connected with the history of the great Pillar. The former says, “Here was the library which ’Amr Ibn-el-’A’s burned by permission of ’Omar.” El-Makreezee says, “The Pillar is of a red speckled stone; hard and flinty. There were around it about four hundred columns which Karaja, Governor of Alexandria in the time of the Sultán Saláh-ed-Deen Yoosuf Ibn-Eiyoob (called by Europeans “Saladin”), broke, and threw them into the sea, near the shore, to prevent the vessels of an enemy from approaching the walls of the city. It is said (he adds) that this pillar is one of those which stood in the portico of Aristotle, who there taught philosophy; and that this academy contained a library, which ’Amr Ibn-el-’A’s burned by direction of ’Omar.” The Arab General ’Amr, having taken Alexandria, was solicited by one Johannes, surnamed “the Grammarian,” to spare the library above mentioned, and to suffer it to remain in the possession of its former owners. ’Amr, willing to oblige the philosopher, wrote to his sovereign, desiring to know his pleasure respecting these books, and received the following answer:—“As to the books which you have mentioned, if they contain what is agreeable with the book of God, in the book of God is sufficient without them; and if they contain what is contrary to the book of God, there is no need of them; so give orders for their destruction.” They were accordingly distributed about the city, to be used for heating the baths, and in the space of six months they were consumed. “Hear what happened,” writes Abu-l-Faraj, “and wonder!” The author here quoted does certainly speak of this event as one of lamentable importance; but he was a Christian writer. The Muslims, though they love and encourage many branches of literature, generally imagine that the books of the Christians are useless, or of an evil tendency.
I must now leave Alexandria and its environs, saying a few words respecting the ancient Necropolis, or “City of the Dead,” which I have not seen, being satisfied with my brother’s account of it, and being anxious to proceed to Cairo.
The name of Necropolis has been given to a tract of nearly two miles in length, on the southwest of the site of the ancient city, between the old harbour and the bed of the Lake Mareotis. The sepulchres are all excavated in the rock, which is calcareous, or rather soft. Those my brother saw were small and rudely cut, without painting or any other decorations. One of the catacombs is very spacious. It is the only one that is well worthy of being examined. The principal chamber is described as being of a circular form; and the roof is excavated like the interior of a dome. Around it are three recesses, which were doubtless receptacles for mummies; and around each of these are three troughs cut in the rock, designed to serve as sarcophagi. In other chambers are similar receptacles for the dead. The entrance of the principal, or circular, apartment being ornamented with pilasters and a pediment, it is evident that the period of the formation of the catacomb was posterior to the founding of Alexandria. Along the shore of the harbour are many other excavations, but of small dimensions, which are also sepulchres. Many of them, being partly below the level of the sea, are more or less filled with water; the part of the rock which intervened having crumbled away, and left the interior exposed to the waves. Some of these have been called “the baths of Cleopatra,” though evidently sepulchres like the rest.
And now, if my account of Alexandria and its monuments has been too brief, I must plead as my apology, my anxiety to pursue our route; but I must add, that although the modern Alexandria is the successor of one of the most illustrious cities of ancient times, it disappoints me, and occasions only melancholy reflections.