I thought myself extremely fortunate, in my return from the short excursion to Rome and Naples, that I made in the autumn of 1821, to have discovered at Leghorn, among a multitude of Egyptian antiquities, belonging to Mr. Drovetti, the French consul at Alexandria, which had long lain warehoused there, a stone containing an enchorial and a Greek inscription, which was known to have existed formerly at Menouf, but which had been lost and almost forgotten by European travellers in Egypt, and I believe by Mr. Drovetti himself; for I am informed that it is not mentioned in the catalogue of his Museum, which has been sent to Paris and elsewhere. Although both the inscriptions appeared to be almost illegible, yet I did not despair of being able, in a proper light, and with sufficient patience, to decipher the greater part; and I should have been tempted to remain a few days at Leghorn, in order to make the experiment, if I could have obtained permission from the merchants, to whose care the collection was entrusted. The more, however, that I considered the importance of the only supplement to the pillar of Rosetta, that then appeared to be in existence, the more anxiety I felt to make some effort, to secure it from oblivion or destruction; and with more simplicity, perhaps, than good policy, when I returned to Pisa in the evening, I wrote a letter to MM. Mompurgo, of which I shall here insert a translation.
“Gentlemen,
“Having fully reflected on the singular importance of the Greek inscription, which I mentioned to you this morning, and the irreparable misfortune that would be incurred, in case that the pillar containing it should ever be lost by shipwreck, I have determined to make you a proposal, which I hope you will not find any impropriety in accepting.
“I am very desirous of sending an experienced artist from Florence, in order to make two impressions in plaster, and two tracings on paper, of this stone; upon condition, that they be considered as the property of Mr. Drovetti, and remain in your possession, until you have received his answer to the inquiry, whether he will permit them to be sent to London, either for myself or for the British Museum, and what price he would expect to receive for them. And in case that he should not think proper to fix such a price on them, as we might agree to pay, I am willing to consent, that they should remain in his collection, upon condition, however, that if this collection should ever be reembarked, for conveyance by sea, they should be kept at Leghorn, until the original stone should have arrived safely at the place of its destination, in order to avoid the chance of wholly losing this literary treasure by shipwreck.
“Whatever may be Mr. Drovetti’s decision, I trust that this application, from one who flatters himself that he is the only person living, that can fully appreciate the value of the object in question, will at least not be disagreeable to him. I will beg of you to send me an early answer, directed to Schneiderff’s Hotel at Florence.
T. Y. Sec. R. S. Lond.
Pisa, 5th Sept. 1821.”
MM. Mompurgo readily agreed to my proposal, and I engaged a distinguished artist of Florence to undertake the performance of my plan; but I believe he was accidentally prevented from fulfilling his engagement. It appears, however, that his labour, as far as I was concerned, would have been wholly lost; for Mr. Drovetti’s cupidity seems to have been roused by the discovery of an unknown treasure, and he has given me to understand, that nothing should induce him to separate it from the remainder of his extensive and truly valuable collection, of which he thinks it so well calculated to enhance the price; and he refuses to allow any kind of copy of it to be taken.
But, as it often happens to those who are too eager to monopolize, he has now outstood his market, and the pearl of great price, which six months ago I would have purchased for much more than its value, is now become scarcely worth my acceptance. I was principally anxious to obtain from it a collateral confirmation of my interpretation of the enchorial inscription of Rosetta; but having fortunately acquired materials, from other sources, which are amply sufficient for this purpose, I can wait, with great patience, for any little extension, which my enchorial vocabulary might receive from this source. I had inferred from a note, that had been sent me several years before, respecting the stone of Menouf, by Mr. Jomard, that the first words of the Greek inscription must have been ΒΑΣΙΛΕΙ ΠΤΟΛΕΜΑΙΩΙ ΝΕΩΙ ΔΙΟΝΥΣΩΙ, but this was all that the gentleman, who described it, had even attempted to copy.
The first circumstance, that repressed my eagerness to obtain a copy of Drovetti’s inscriptions, was the arrival of Mr. Casati at Paris, with a parcel of manuscripts, among which Mr. Champollion discovered one that considerably resembled, in its preamble, the enchorial text of the pillar of Rosetta: and the value of this discovery was afterwards almost miraculously multiplied, by the existence of a Greek translation of the same manuscript, which has been brought to London by Mr. Grey.