volume-2_1892-1893.xml

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                <title>A Journal on the Bedawin 1889-1912</title>
                <author>
                    <persName ref="#Andrews_Emma_B">Mrs Emma B. Andrews</persName>
                </author>
                <editor>
                    <persName ref="#SLK">Dr. Sarah L. Ketchley</persName>
                </editor>
                <respStmt>
                    <resp>EBA Interns</resp>
                    <persName ref="#CS">Clare Summa</persName>
                    <persName ref="#KV">Karena Vongampai</persName>
                    <persName ref="#AL">Amanda Li</persName>
                    <persName ref="#NS">Nitya Sampath</persName>
                    <persName ref="JC">Jennifer Charoni</persName>
                </respStmt>
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            <publicationStmt>
                <publisher>The Emma B. Andrews Diary Project</publisher>
                <address>
                    <addrLine>University of Washington, Seattle WA 98195 U.S.A.</addrLine>
                </address>
                <availability>
                    <licence target="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/">This work is
                        licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0
                        International License."></licence>
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                <date when="2018"> 2011-2018 </date>
                <distributor>The Emma B. Andrews Diary Project</distributor>
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                <note>Volume 2 1892-1893</note>
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                <bibl>
                    <title>A Journal on the Bedawin 1889-1912</title>
                    <author>
                        <persName ref="#Andrews_Emma_B">Mrs. Emma B. Andrews</persName>
                    </author>
                    <orgName ref="#APS">The American Philsophical Society</orgName>
                    <address>
                        <addrLine>105 South Fifth Street Philadelphia, PA 19106</addrLine>
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                    <persName ref="#Andrews_Emma_B">Emma B. Andrews</persName> is best remembered
                    for her association with the millionaire lawyer turned archaeologist/art and
                    antiquities collector, <persName ref="#Davis_Theodore">Theodore M.
                        Davis</persName>. Traveling to <placeName ref="#Egypt">Egypt</placeName>
                    with him between 1889 and 1912, she kept detailed journals of these voyages
                    along the <placeName ref="#Nile_River">Nile</placeName>, including his important
                    yet under-reported excavations of 20 significant tombs in the <placeName
                        ref="#Valley_of_the_Kings">Valley of the Kings</placeName>. <persName
                        ref="#Andrews_Emma_B">Emma</persName> provides a vital commentary on the
                    archaeology and pioneering Egyptologists of the time. She paints a revealing
                    picture of the lives of the colonial gentry and the cultural and scientific
                    literati in <placeName ref="#Egypt">Egypt</placeName> at the dawn of the
                    twentieth century. To date, her diaries are unpublished; analysis of the
                    contents of 19 volumes will afford scholars and a general audience information
                    about an important historical resource for the first time. Since its inception
                    in 2010, the scope of our project has broadened to include the transcription and
                    digitization of a wide range of primary historical material from the 'Golden
                    Age' of Egyptian archaeology detailed in the Research section of this website.
                    The Emma B. Andrews Diary Project is one of the founding partners of Newbook
                    Digital Texts. We are proud to offer undergraduate and graduate Digital
                    Humanities education and internships.</p>
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                        <persName ref="#SLK">Dr. Sarah L. Ketchley</persName>
                        <affiliation>University of Washington</affiliation>
                        <occupation>Affiliate Instructor</occupation>
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                            <event>
                                <p>Project Director 2010-present</p>
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                        <persName ref="#CS">Clare Summa</persName>
                        <affiliation>University of Washington</affiliation>
                        <occupation>Student Intern</occupation>
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                                <p>Team member 2015-2016</p>
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            <div xml:id="EBA18921207" type="Entry">
                <p><title> Cairo - Egypt. Dec. 7. 1892.</title></p>
                <p>Sailed from New York in S.S. Fürst Bismarck on Thursday, Nov. 17th bound for
                    Naples, - Mr. and Mrs. Davis - Nettie Buttles - with Howard Amory - and the
                    faithful Jones. We had brilliant weather and smooth sea, with the exception of
                    one day and night when we rolled tremendously. The ship [sic; is] admirable. It
                    was her first voyage in these southern waters. We had only about 120 first class
                    passengers in all that big ship - but a most noisy and unattractive lot. The
                    only ones we could fraternize with were Mrs. and Miss Bronson of New York - and
                    Mrs. Ledyard of Newport, with her daughter Mrs. Spencer Ledyard formerly Mrs.
                    Fred Newbold. We carried over 900 steerage passengers - all Italians - going
                    back, most of them to spend the winter in Italy. Nettie who has been very ill,
                    and hardly able to sit up when first brought on board, improved with every
                    moment, was never ill, and beamed with pleasure the whole day. The Bismarck has
                    a hurricane deck forward - a most delightful nest among the smoke stacks and
                    great ventilators - and we had it generally quite to ourselves. Reached
                    Gibraltar on the morning of the 25th Friday, at 7 o’clock - and we were up,
                    Nettie and I, to see the approach to the great Rock, which was beautiful in that
                    early dawn, with a mass of rose coloured cloud about its head - the blue water
                    crisp with the fresh breeze, and the many little boats that put out to us gay
                    with their colours and cargoes Page 2 of fruit and flowers. Dropped our anchor
                    for 2 hours, and sent three passengers ashore - and Howard went ashore with Mrs.
                    Spencer Ledyard and a young British diplomat, who had come out to meet her. Then
                    we had again lovely weather and smooth sailing to Genoa, where we reached the
                    dock on Sunday morning at 7:30. A cold bitter wind was blowing - the first touch
                    of anything like winter we have had. Here Mrs. Bronson and her daughter left us,
                    going to Florence for the winter. In a few hours we were off again for Naples,
                    and on 12 o’clock on Monday 29, were at anchor in the bay, with Vesuvius just
                    before us - looking more splendid and dignified in his unbroken sloping lines
                    than I had ever seen him, with just a suspicion of smoke at his summit. It was
                    beautiful entering that unrivalled bay in that big steamer and from the vantage
                    ground of the hurricane deck - and it was touching to see the delight of our
                    Italians as they recognized first one and then another familiar thing. We went
                    to the Grand Hotel for the night, and were off the next afternoon at 4 o’clock
                    on the Hydaspes - one of the small P. &amp; O. steamers, for Alexandria. It was
                    cold in Naples, so that fires were necessary in our rooms - it was still colder
                    on the water, and the walls of the ship were ventilated in the manner of eastern
                    steamships, so that it was impossible to avoid draughts, and of course I
                    promptly took cold. The decks were very pleasant - and what a delightful
                    exchange in the way of fellow passengers, from those of the Bismarck. One of my
                    neighbors at table was very interesting - a Mr. Tylor - going out to Egypt to
                    excavate at El Kab - had been a great deal in America - and was very jolly - but
                    with a heavy Page 3 cold - and a suggestive cough. Reached Alexandria at 7
                    o’clock on Saturday Dec. 3. Nettie and Howard all eyes for the strange people
                    and their ways. We lunched at the Khedival, having of course been detained too
                    long at the Custom House to catch the 9 o’clock train to Cairo - where we did
                    not arrive until 8:30 in the evening. As the train pulled in the station I
                    recognized our dear Mahommed Salah waiting for us, with our old cook Hanna
                    Ibraim - and they gave us warmest greetings. We came to Shepheards, which has
                    been greatly enlarged and improved since we were here - the big hall done in
                    Egyptian architecture style, at which it is the fashion to laugh - and I greatly
                    loathe the arabesque furniture and fittings of most of the rooms. We have quite
                    a row of pleasant rooms, bringing up with a big sitting room in the corner - all
                    of them look out upon the large garden of the hotel, with overhanging balconies
                    - and from the window of the sitting room where I am writing I see a lovely
                    vista of palms and stately lubbek trees and tropical shrubs, among which the big
                    gray and black crows are always flying and croaking. The grass is very good too,
                    and several Arabs are always sprinkling it and pushing about the lawn mower,
                    which looks strange in such hands - and I like to watch the gray bearded old
                    Mohammedan who keeps the gate just below us - sitting for hours leaning against
                    his little gate house, with his goolah of water by his side. Occasionally he
                    takes a drink from this, or admits some one who stops to chat with him, or
                    spreads his rug and says his prayers. He wears coarse stockings and red shoes -
                    a dignity to which he has not long been accustomed, or to which he has not yet
                    Page 4 comfortably adapted himself, for he wrestles much of the time with them -
                    puts the red shoes side by side in front of him, and loses himself in
                    contemplation of them - takes off the stockings - scratches his legs - and then
                    resigns himself to the comfort of natural bare feet - until he hears someone
                    approaching and scrambles back into the livery of civilization. We pay the
                    penalty of having rooms looking to the garden by having them invaded by hordes
                    of mosquitoes. I have been out of the house but once - on Sunday morning when I
                    drove down with Theodore and Nettie to see our dahabeah, the Herodotus, which
                    Mohammed has had engaged for us for months, and which is now in complete sailing
                    readiness. We were much pleased with the boat - she is 18 ft. broad and 105 in
                    length and carries 12 sailors beside the Captain, 2d Captain, and the Captain’s
                    son - a boy of 15, who serves as deck cook for the men. Nettie was in raptures
                    with it all, as indeed she is with everything. Some pleasant people who crossed
                    with us in the Hydaspes are sitting opposite us at table here - Sir George
                    Macpherson-Grant and his family. My cold was so bad for two days that I have not
                    been down stairs - and go from my own room where I have a lamp burning all day
                    to keep up the temperature, to the sitting room which is warmed all day by the
                    sun. As some sort of a compensation I have pleasant daily visits from Dr.
                    Sandwith - while the rest are out all day, seeing the sights of this beautiful
                    Cairo. Page 5</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18921211" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Third Sunday in Advent. Dec. 11th.</title></p>
                <p>I have had a dull week - but am better - walked out on Friday, and yesterday
                    drove out - went with Mohammed to get some plants for the boat. This morning
                    when Howard came home from church I walked down the street with him to a
                    confectioners and bought a lot of Xmas things for the sailors. Theodore reports
                    Mr. Tylor as having started up the river in the Kitty, the same little boat that
                    Mr. Chester used to have, and that kept us company for so many weeks on the
                    river two years ago. Mr. Peto too, another Hydaspes acquaintance is now looking
                    about for a small dahabeah, but has found nothing yet to suit his fastidious
                    taste. We start up the river ourselves tomorrow, provided there is any wind.
                    Mohammed has everything ready. The contracts have been considered and
                    reconsidered - and formally signed. Theodore pays Rostivitete Bey the owner of
                    the boat £120 each for the first and second months and £100 for the third month
                    - and £3. a day after the third month. Mohammed furnishes the cook and 2 men
                    servants and our living (for 6 people) for £5.10 a day. I am full of delight to
                    be once more starting up the Nile.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18921214" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Dahabeah “Herodotus”.Dec. 14th</title></p>
                <p>We came on board Monday morning, Dec. 12th and settled ourselves with much
                    delight in our pleasant and commodious quarters. We quite filled the big omnibus
                    from Shepheards with ourselves and our bags and rugs. The boat was lying just
                    above the bridge on the Cairo side, and it was easy to reach her. The day was a
                    quiet one, but Page 6 early in the afternoon the sailors polled us out in the
                    stream, and about 4 o’clock our Rais taking advantage of a little wind, started,
                    and we made a very slow progress of about 5 miles, pulling up at sunset for the
                    night. As we left our landing place, one of Cook’s dahabeahs, the “Ammon Ra”
                    flying the American flag, pulled under the bridge and took our place. We have
                    been busy settling ourselves. Mrs. Davis and I have opposite rooms next the
                    cabin - quite large with excellent beds, and sofas - washstands with running
                    water - mirrors - lockers - book racks and easy chairs - two windows in each
                    room - Nettie is next me in a room not so large as mine, and Howard opposite
                    her. Then come Jones and the bath room opposite each other, and the stairway to
                    the deck - and then the big stern room, with its outside balcony, which is
                    Theodore’s, and is most comfortable and pleasant. Our big upper deck, which is
                    really a sitting room is charming with its rugs, easy chairs, divans and tables.
                    The cabin is large enough not to seem crowded with Nettie’s piano - and looks
                    most homelike. Yesterday was absolutely quiet - the water like glass, &amp; very
                    warm. We had an awning stretched over the deck, and we polled and drifted in the
                    face of the strong current, all day - until we gave it up in the afternoon, and
                    anchored, having made hardly more than a mile, and still having the Citadel in
                    view. This morning we made an early start - passed Bedrechein soon after
                    breakfast - a fair wind, increasing in the afternoon to strong - the succession
                    of pyramids before us all day long. How strange those great things always are!
                    and seen from a distance how they dominate the land, and make plain their
                    enormous size. Page 7 A very great contrast this opening journey is, to the one
                    we made 2 years ago, when we started out with a rattling cold wind, that carried
                    us up to Benisoef the second day. Made 40 miles today.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18921215" type="Entry">
                <p><title> Dec. 15th.</title></p>
                <p>We have made a fair run of 30 miles today - and passed this afternoon the very
                    pleasant looking Gov. dahabeah, the “Miriam”, with Mr. de Morgan, now
                    Superintendent of the Ghizeh Museum, on board with a party of friends. The day
                    has been delicious - very warm - and I bask in the dry, pure, sweet air from the
                    desert, finding it entrancing. We are lying tonight a few miles below Benisoef.
                    I have been looking through a window at the starlit night - no moon - but stars
                    so intensely brilliant - Orion superb - but in a most unusual position to my
                    northern eyes.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18921216" type="Entry">
                <p><title> Dec.16th.</title></p>
                <p>An excellent run today of about 51 miles - to where we are now lying somewhere
                    near Golosseneh. The wind has been very strong at times - and the current so
                    strong, caused by the very high Nile of this year, and such numbers of working
                    boats, that it has made the sailing very exciting. How effective these great
                    winged sails of the boat are! Looking behind us again and again to-day, it was
                    like a flock of great white birds coming after us. It is now past 10 o’clock.
                    Nettie, Howard and I are writing at the table in our large pretty, well Page 8
                    lighted cabin. Theodore is reading Petrie’s “Ten years digging in Egypt”. I have
                    just been to the door opening on the lower deck, to look at the ever strange
                    night scene. The sailors are all wrapped in their blankets lying asleep on the
                    floor. Mahommed and our Rais, with innumerable shawls wrapped about their heads,
                    sitting on the floor crooning together - and on the shore the bright fire of the
                    “watcher man” as Mohammed calls them - who are paid for guarding us through the
                    dangers of the night, and who invariably do it by sleeping soundly.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18921217" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Dec. 17th.</title></p>
                <p>We laid at our resting place of last night near Golossaneh until about 11 o’clock
                    - waiting for a breeze. A delicious morning - air fresh and sun bright - we went
                    ashore after breakfast and walked up and down on the hard level black mud. The
                    usual Egyptian village of mud houses embowered in palm trees was near us, and
                    over the stretch of freshly ploughed ground that lay between, and into which,
                    men were busy transplanting onions, a thing I had never seen done, came a string
                    of children and fellaheen to stare at us, and to lie in wait for possible
                    backsheesh. The first one I met, was a little mother, looking hardly more than a
                    child herself, with a really sweet, clean baby - almost naked - indeed its only
                    dress was a spare corner of its mother’s garment, such a very little red bronzy
                    baby it was, with perfectly rounded plump legs and feet - its little round brown
                    head covered with the blackest hair, and its sleepy eyes when it opened them, as
                    big and softly black Page 9 as its little mother’s. When she opened her dress
                    and showed me this baby curled up in her arm, I was strongly tempted to take it
                    in mine. Then came dozens of others, until I think the village had disgorged
                    itself of all its babies - but none at all so nice as my first brown little
                    mannikin. I wanted to photograph some of them, and sent Jones to the boat for my
                    camera, but as soon as I had placed the tripod, half of the crowd took to its
                    heels, but was finally lured back by Mohammed producing several oranges. Many of
                    the people were much tattooed. I succeeded in getting two or three groups. I
                    should liked to have photographed a group I saw in the distance through my
                    glass, swinging along the walls of the town under the palm trees - first an
                    Egyptian gen d’armes in his European dress, with red fez, then 3 arabs chained
                    and handcuffed together, followed by two or three dignified turbaned officials.
                    The wind came at last, but rather fitfully and in strong gusts - which made the
                    sailing very exciting - we ran at times close to green fields, and the delicious
                    scent of the scent trees was brought to us - with a general fresh spring like
                    fragrance of all things growing - and the larks song - and the beautiful hoopoo
                    birds showed themselves - and we passed lovely stretches of sand and desert
                    lying up against the great limestone cliffs - little Coptic churches with their
                    white domes showing in desolate places, with a fringe of palm and scent trees.
                    Passed the cliffs of Gebel et Ter, or mountain of the bird, with the Coptic
                    Convent of Our Lady the Virgin, lying on its lofty plateau, looking poor and
                    desolate against the sky line, and apparently hardly more than a collection of
                    abject huts. We stopped at sunset - having Page 10 made only 18 miles, and are
                    now about 10 miles from Minyeh. The day after we started from Cairo, Mohammed
                    produced a wretched little gray and white kitten, which he said he thought I
                    might like - we found her swarming with fleas, and Jones valiantly offered to
                    wash her - and a frightened, scrambling, scratching cat is no joke of a thing to
                    wash. We gave her a bath of strong carbolic soap and water and after she was
                    dried, and had regained her contours, she was very pretty - and she is gradually
                    growing tame and at home. I have been busy for two days making curtains and
                    lounge coverings for my room, out of some cheap pink and white chintz I bought
                    in Cairo - and now the little room is very fresh and dainty - I could not live
                    peaceably with the dark blue and orange and tinsel Turkish stuff, that I
                    displaced. Dec. 18th. 4th Sunday in Advent. Before I was dressed this morning,
                    we were under way with a good breeze which increased to such violence, that
                    rapid sailing seemed dangerous. Still we kept on. I found it too windy on deck,
                    and have been below a good deal. Passed Miniyeh soon after breakfast. Referring
                    to my diary of 2 winters ago on the river, I see that we reached Minyeh on the
                    3rd day of the voyage - and we are now on our 7th day! We pulled up at last,
                    about 11 o’clock, under a bank shaded by palms and scent trees - near a small
                    dahabeah flying the English flag - the Manhatta - with Lord somebody Bentinck
                    and family on board, her dragoman told Salah they were 18 days from Cairo! We
                    all got off, and took a lovely walk into the country back of the river. We lay
                    here Page 11 all the afternoon, and are still here - the wind being too strong
                    to sail. We have not looked very much like Sunday today. For some days we have
                    had some suspicions of the hold of our boat - and I declared at last that I
                    heard water under the boards - so they were taken up, and to our consternation
                    we found several inches of water on the iron bottom - all the men were set to
                    work, and constant bailing went on until all was clean and once more dry, when
                    Jones went under and thought he discovered the leak in the pipe leading from the
                    bathtub. We will be able to tell tomorrow. Anything else might prove a serious
                    thing. We have made 22 miles, and have been joined by one of Cook’s Postal
                    boats, which lies just behind us. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18921219" type="Entry">
                <p><title> Dec. 19th.</title></p>
                <p>We left our mooring place of last night about 9 o’clock - passed the Beni-Hassan
                    landing place, reserving that for our downward journey - passed Rhodah, nearly
                    opposite which are the ruins of Antinoë, where Antinous is said to have drowned
                    himself, and where Hadrian afterwards built a town, hardly anything now
                    remaining of its ruins, though important remains were seen by the French
                    Expedition. Some miles further on, still on the east side of the river, we pass
                    Der en-Rakbeh the “convent of the date palms” - near which is the important tomb
                    with the celebrated representation of the transportation of a Colossus - so well
                    know from the print in Wilkinson. This we hope to see on our way down. Then we
                    pass Tell el-Amarnah, with the famous grotto tombs, where not long since the
                    grave of Khu-en-aten (Amenophis IV) the sun Page 12 worshipper was discovered,
                    and the equally famous Tel el-Amarnah tablets, now in the British Museum, of
                    such great historical value. The day was cold and windy, and I spent most of my
                    time below, very busy with my writing and work. Early in the afternoon we passed
                    the Wilbur dahabeah, and the Gazelle with the Austrian flag. About 4 o’clock the
                    wind being very violent, and approaching the great chain of the Gebel Aboufeydah
                    on the east bank, where the river makes two or three great bends, and is the
                    most difficult piece of navigation between Cairo and Assouan, we took refuge to
                    some lofty cliffs, and tied up for the night. It was most exciting seeing our
                    sailors climbing up our big boom to furl the sail, in the howling wind. Soon
                    after we stopped, the English dahabeah Manhatta came up behind and stopped, and
                    in a few moments was followed by the Gazelle, which took a position just ahead
                    of us. Everybody went for a walk - met the Bentincks who stopped to talk.
                    Climbed the cliff a little way to look at some empty tombs, and tried to get in
                    the gate of a little Coptic mosque, with no success - saw some fine Dom palms,
                    and our men got us some of the nuts. Coming back, it was such a pretty sight -
                    the three boats lying against that desolate shore, a long low island covered
                    with shrubs shutting us off on the other side from the broad, shallow channel of
                    the river - the beautiful clear sunset colors giving such an air of peace to
                    everything. Coming on board, it looked so comfortable to see the men wrapped in
                    their shawls after their hard day, and crooning about their little deck stove -
                    I hope they feel half as comfortable as they looked. Much visiting in the
                    evening between Page 13 the different crews - and three groups of guards with
                    their fires, on shore. Made 41 miles. The ground near us is green with the young
                    wheat, 5 and 6 inches high. Dec. 20th. Before getting up this morning, I lay
                    looking at the mists rolling off the river, curling themselves into fantastic
                    shapes as the sun gradually dried and scattered them. There are sliding outside
                    shutters to the windows, and one the sailors is always sent around the boat in
                    the morning, walking along the outside ridge, to open them, and it is a lazy
                    pleasure to lie in bed and watch the outside world. We are lying this evening
                    within 10 miles of Assiout. We have been all day passing the Aboufoydah chain -
                    and the Nile makes many great bends below Assiut, and it is often very tiresome
                    and troublesome getting along here. The Austrian and English dahabeahs have been
                    near us all day - and when the wind fell quite light in the afternoon, the
                    Gazelle being smaller and lighter than we are overtook us just as we drew to our
                    landing place. We have made 27 miles today - it has been rather cold, and I have
                    been down stairs most of the day, busy with my letters for the mail
                    tomorrow.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18921221" type="Entry">
                <p><title> Dec. 21st.</title></p>
                <p>After breakfast this morning, we went on deck to see the minarets of Assiut,
                    which we hoped to reach very early - but the wind failed, and it was not until
                    after 12 o’clock, that we drew to the Page 14 landing - the Gazelle having gone
                    in just before us. The usual scenes took place - amusing to Theodore and me, and
                    wildly exciting to the rest, who had never witnessed anything of the kind - the
                    gathering of the donkeys, and donkey boys and men - the mad rush for our saddles
                    when they were brought up - the shrieks and yowls - the blows and kicks from the
                    gens d’armes - and then after the donkeys had been chosen, sudden peace! After
                    lunch was over, we waited until half past 2 o’clock the sun was [sic; not] so
                    hot, before starting for the town. It was delightful to be riding along again in
                    these well remembered scenes. I had a charming donkey, “name he Telephone”, as
                    my donkey boy informed me. We went first to the Post Office, but finding it
                    closed, kept on to the town and bazaar, where we bought ammonia, and Persian
                    Insect powder, and Carbolic Acid, and wire, and a crochet needle! Then we rode
                    about in a general way, stopping at a large garden where I had been before, and
                    got some sprays of Bougainvillia, then brought up again at the P.O. where we
                    deposited our 21 letters and brought away a huge mail of letters and papers,
                    which occupied us all the evening.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18921222" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Dec. 22.</title></p>
                <p>Left Assiut this morning - day hot and still. Have made only 5 miles. We had
                    quite an excitement last night. Theodore, Nettie and I were the last ones up -
                    after I had entered my room and lighted my candles, I saw a most disgusting and
                    horrible monster on the mosquito netting - to my excited imagination he looked a
                    foot or more in length, Page 15 with 2 enormously long antennae, which as he
                    waved them at me, threw their shadow on the wall in a ludicrously exaggerated
                    manner. I went to Theodore and Nettie for assistance, and we tried to bag the
                    creature with no success - he dropped on the bed, ran behind it and disappeared
                    - and although we pulled everything to pieces, we could not find him. So
                    Theodore nobly proposed that I should occupy his room, and he would take mine,
                    and brave the danger of the reappearance of the beast. I was base enough to
                    accept, and gladly went to the big stern room for the night. This morning on
                    telling Salah about it at breakfast, he protested that it should be looked into
                    at once, and soon had the men in the room - bed taken to pieces, drawers taken
                    out from underneath, and Jones putting a candle in and then his hand, declared
                    he saw the monster as “long as his foot”, and with a towel grabbed him and
                    brought him out. He really proved to be about 3 inches long, and to my great
                    relief I saw that he was a flying insect, and did not reside on the boat with
                    his uncles, aunts and cousins. Jones put him under a glass, and treated him to
                    large doses of Persian powder, and intends carrying him home as a specimen of
                    Egyptian game. However everything in the dahabeah was turned out, this morning -
                    floors washed with hot water - carpets shaked and brushed, and my room treated
                    to doses of Carbolic acid, and plentiful sprinklings of Persian powder - and we
                    hope never to see a thing of that kind again. The water has been like glass
                    today - the men have tracked a little - and we laid a long time near a field
                    through which the clover crop was springing - and had firm ground near the water
                    for quite a walk. Page 16 Dec. 23d. Two miles today, with so much exertion, we
                    gave it up - I am impressed again with the almost level and unbroken mountain
                    chain following the bank on the eastern side, from Cairo - the great limestone
                    cliffs making an almost unbroken sky line - and their colors so soft - and their
                    shadows so pink and gray - we pass great bends in the river, and then seem to
                    come back to the identical cliffs. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18921224" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Dec. 24th.</title></p>
                <p>We have made 8 miles today and have passed Aboutig. The men have been getting
                    palm branches and sugar canes for tomorrow’s decoration.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18921225" type="Entry">
                <p><title> Dec. 25th.</title></p>
                <p>Christmas Day. When I went into the cabin this morning to arrange some modest
                    little gifts about the table, I found Salah had been busy with his decorations,
                    and the cook had sent in all the wonderful dishes he had prepared in honor of
                    the day. A large pyramid of nougat in the form of a Greek temple was in the
                    centre of the table, with artificial roses and a pink cupid inside the temple!
                    two pyramids of cakes overlaid with coloured icing and bonbons, flanked the
                    temple - and dishes of brilliant candies and bonbons were grouped about. A mass
                    of roses and fragrant white jasmine was really lovely - around the room were
                    other flowers, and branches of oranges and mandarins in their own green leaves
                    were hung - Salah was delighted as the faithful Page 17 fellow always is, with
                    our approbation. I had bought in Cairo, a lot of pictured horns of plenty filled
                    with candy, and tied with pretty ribbons for the sailors, and some more
                    pretentious bonbonières for the other men, and Xmas cards for all. After we had
                    finished breakfast, we went out to the lower deck, and I gave them about,
                    Theodore supplementing them with a gift of money to each. Their delight was so
                    childish, it was quite pathetic - and during the day I saw one and then another
                    examining this [sic; his] treasures, and treating himself to a bit of candy. Of
                    course our gifts to our magnificent Salah (as we generally call Mohammed, there
                    being so many other Mohammeds on the boat) were quite apart from all the rest.
                    It was not easy to think that this was Christmas, whatever it might be at home
                    and in northern lands - and last night we could repeat Tennyson’s couplet and
                    say, “We live within the strangers land, and strangely falls our Xmas eve”. When
                    about 9 o’clock I took my little weather observation the thermometer stood at
                    58°! A pleasant surprise when we went on deck was the beautiful decoration -
                    palm branches and masses of the sorghum or sugar cane, the latter will serve the
                    further purpose of supplying the men with their favorite sweet, for all
                    Egyptians love to suck the sugar cane, which is sold everywhere in the streets
                    of the town, and along the roadside for that purpose. When night came, and we
                    had pulled up to the bank near Gou, coloured lanterns were run up to both the
                    masts, and we had fireworks - and Nettie and Howard got off some of the
                    entertainments they had prepared for the men, with great success. There has been
                    no wind today to speak of - and although we have made Page 18 about 10 miles, it
                    has been done by tracking and polling. Pleasant as our life is here, we begin to
                    complain that the wind does not blow, the good north wind that carries boats up
                    the river. Yesterday with all our efforts we made only 8 miles, and the day
                    before only 2, - such a contrast to our other voyage, when we reached Luxor on
                    the 14th day of our voyage - and today we are only within 38 miles of Sohag, and
                    171 from Luxor. The weather is very different too - then it was cold and often
                    cloudy - now it is like our June weather at Newport - and only in the early
                    morning is it sometimes cloudy - yet though the progress has been slow, the
                    hours have been to me so full of quiet beauty, that they have gone only too
                    fast. The beauty of the noonday is something exquisite - I revel in it - and the
                    air of the desert is so pure, so soft and fresh - so lifegiving. I have picture
                    after picture in my mind of low, sandy shores, with stretches of green, and the
                    soft yellow of the limestone cliffs beyond - and fringes of palm trees, and
                    graceful masses of soft fragrant scent trees - and strange low villages of mud
                    hovels - with shrouded figures moving about or huddled against the walls - and
                    distant noises of voices - of barking of dogs - and through it all we slip
                    mysteriously along, to the music of the soft ripple of the water - through the
                    intense hot noon day, or the brilliant evening. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18921226" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Dec. 26.</title></p>
                <p>Another quiet day without wind. Gazelle close to us - sometimes in advance -
                    sometimes behind - it becomes almost embarrassing Page 19 to pass so often and
                    so close. It is some Austrian nobleman, with his wife, governess and child - and
                    he is always playing chess on the upper deck. We have been passing the lofty
                    cliffs of Sheikh el-Hereedeh coming sometimes close to the river - have made 6
                    miles, and after hoping all day to make Sohag, we are still several miles
                    away.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18921227" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Dec. 27.</title></p>
                <p>Passed Sohag this morning soon after breakfast in a good wind and seeing the
                    Bazelle [sic; Gazelle] had stopped there, we hoped we had shaken her off at last
                    - but alas! in the difficult bend of the river between Sohag and Akmin, we came
                    to grief on a sand bank where we stayed an hour and she sailed past us again.
                    The town of Akmim was a most interesting place as we sailed past it - and has
                    some special points of interest to lovers of antiquity - and we have resolved to
                    stop there on our way down. We had a splendid wind the rest of the day - we
                    could see the Gazelle in the distance, and a small dahabeah which we take to be
                    the Kitty. Pulled up at Girgeh soon after 6 o’clock - and will stay here until
                    day after tomorrow to bake bread. It is vexing to stop so long where there is
                    nothing to be seen. There is always a strife between the Captains and the owners
                    of the dahabeahs, in this matter of baking bread. The former have a preference
                    for certain places, and declare it can be baked nowhere else. Our best sailing
                    day for sometime - have made 31 miles. Page 20</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18921228" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Dec. 28th.</title></p>
                <p>We are lying by a low sand island with quite a little stream between it and the
                    busy landing place - so that we are separated from its noise and dirt, and yet
                    can see the stream of travel up and down the path on the bank. Girgeh has a very
                    pretty effect with its tall minarets, and the great cliffs of the Arabian
                    mountains opposite. It is an important town of nearly 15,000 inhabitants - a
                    large proportion of which are Copts - and the name is Christian, from “Girgis”
                    the Captain of St. George who is their patron saint. When we were here before I
                    remember going through the bazaar, and seeing an interesting fair, and being
                    allowed to look into an old Mosque with lovely Saracenic tiles. The rest went
                    off quite early in the felucca to do the town - and I not feeling up to it
                    stayed at home all day reading and working, finding the shaded deck a charming
                    resting place, with all the many interesting things going on outside. Salah has
                    been doing a tremendous shopping in the way of live stock - and it was
                    entertaining to see the boats arriving with sheep and chicken and pigeons and
                    turkeys. At last, our little island looked like a veritable farm yard, with two
                    wooly black sheep nibbling at a heap of green stuff, and innumerable fowls
                    picketed about, and one of the amusements of the day was to see a thin old
                    cantankerous cock, with an equally gaunt old brown hen, and another plump little
                    gray hen very much snubbed and kept in order by the old brown hen, who had
                    established themselves near the gangway, and who I think were the sole survivors
                    of the large family we had brought from Cairo - and of Page 21 course were
                    entitled to certain airs of possession. But it was killing to see the state of
                    mind the old cock was in as the other fowls began to arrive - he grew more and
                    more furious as two or three other cocks began to wander about, and the brown
                    hen had to bring him home again and again after his furious excursions. Indeed
                    she was most faithful to him in every way, and did not at all countenance his
                    bland exception of any of the strange young hens, but hustled them off the scene
                    quite as ferociously as she helped him fight his cocks. At last after a family
                    of 5 turkeys had been introduced to the island, and began strutting about he
                    could be restrained no longer - fight after fight occurred - the valiant old
                    fellow sallying out again and again to the conflict with the five - he was
                    simply picked out of the contest time and time again, and was a most battered
                    old fellow with one eye shut up and feathers gone, and a man had to be hired to
                    watch him and keep the peace until the coops were ready and he was shut away
                    from his enemies. In the afternoon Theodore stayed at home with me and we had
                    tea on deck, and tonight every thing is ready, and all hoping for a good wind
                    tomorrow. The bread all baked, and ready to be cut and dried. Dec. 29th. To our
                    dismay this morning a strong south wind was blowing, and we made no pretense of
                    getting away until after 2 o’clock in the afternoon - and with a little wind and
                    much tracking we made Balliana 8 miles away, at 7 o’clock this evening. Cook’s
                    steamer, and 2 daha Page 22 beahs near us - one the Kitty. For two or three days
                    we have been in the pigeon country - the houses with their pigeon towers,
                    looking like strange fortresses and pylons - and altogether strangely
                    picturesque. But these are not the pigeons for eating, but are kept for their
                    valuable manure, which collected and dried forms the chief fuel.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18921230" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Dec. 30th.</title></p>
                <p>The weather being so quiet this morning, we devoted the day to Abydos - Nettie in
                    some trepidation committing herself for the first time to a donkey. The paths
                    and towns looked so familiar - first along the river bank, then through the
                    towns and out across part of the Libyan desert - but charming as it was, it was
                    not so pretty as the last time we did it, as we now are so much earlier, and the
                    crops not so far advanced. I remember them as being quite as high as our donkeys
                    - Nettie was full of delight over her first temple - and it seemed far more
                    wonderful to me than ever - its beautiful colours, its exquisitely cut reliefs -
                    the famous picture of Seti Ist, its splendid columns. We lunched sumptuously in
                    the hypostyle hall - and afterwards encountered Mr. Tylor looking miserably ill.
                    He introduced his friend Mr. Somers-Clarke, particularly interested in Coptic
                    things - an extremely pleasant fellow, and after dinner this evening, they came
                    over and made us a long visit. Mr. Tylor has been in America and seems to know
                    everyone - has visited the John Bancrofts in Boston. The ride back to the boat
                    in the heat of the afternoon was very tiring - my donkey was poor, and my saddle
                    too big - Nettie was so overcome with Page 23 fatigue, that we had to stop and
                    rest her.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18921231" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Dec. 31st.</title></p>
                <p>Calm and hot - our sailors tracked for 6 or 7 miles - early in the afternoon we
                    pulled up discouraged - the Kitty just behind us- and Mr. Tylor and
                    Sommers-Clarke came over for awhile, and we all went for a stroll.- Cloudy all
                    day.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930101" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan.1st.</title></p>
                <p>Utterly quiet weather - the atmosphere as motionless as the water - and, by
                    tracking about 5 miles - overcast the whole day, and a few drops of rain fell in
                    the afternoon.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930102" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 2d.</title></p>
                <p>Again a quiet day, and very warm. The thermometer which hangs in the shade on the
                    little balcony outside Theodore’s room, but which gets a little warmth from the
                    reflection from the water, stood at 10 o’clock this morning at 72°. Tracking for
                    4 miles brought us about sundown within 4 miles of Farshoot, and we drew up with
                    the Kitty beside us at the head of a beautifully luxuriant valley on the west
                    side, the great cliffs on the east side coming quite to the river, and
                    reflecting the sunset glow in most etherially delicate tones in pink and yellow,
                    with the shadows in ashes of roses colour. We had a walk under the palms, and
                    scent trees - with their little puffy balls of fragrant yellow flowers - and
                    many dôm palms - a beautiful crop of the flat pea, Page 24 which they call
                    gulbân growing under them, with its violet coloured blossom. After we got back
                    to the boat there was such wonderful beauty abroad, that we could hardly tear
                    ourselves from the deck, to go down and make ourselves ready for dinner. Over
                    the cliffs opposite, the pink afterglow of the sunset began to give place to a
                    clear white radiance, and soon the full moon sailed majestically up, making a
                    magical beauty.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930103" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan.3.</title></p>
                <p>Very hot - and no wind - thermometer at noon 79°. Referring to this date in my
                    diary of 2 years ago, I find that at 8 o’clock in the morning, it stood at 45°!
                    We tracked along to Forshoot, which we passed at noon. The chief feature of the
                    place is the large sugar factory of the Khedive, which makes anything but a
                    pretty spectacle, with its tall black chimneys and belching forth smoke - the
                    gangs of half naked men unloading the sugar cane, and loading boats with bales
                    of sugar - the cries - the shouting - the turmoil, the toiling men - the
                    overseers with their sticks - the long line of big boats, past which our sailors
                    laboriously carried our towing rope - was not a pleasant thing to see in the hot
                    noon day. Heavens! the groans of the toiling men this ancient river has listened
                    to! Mr. Tylor and Mr. Somers-Clarke spent the evening with us. Page 25</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930104" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 4.</title></p>
                <p>Morning motionless - very hot - thermometer 82° - wind light in the afternoon and
                    increasing - and now at 11 o’clock Salah has just come in to say to Theodore
                    that the Captain is going to anchor in the stream as there are no towns near,
                    and I went to the door with him, while he pointed out the loneliness of the
                    situation - the Libyan desert on the right, and the Arabian on the left. What
                    exquisite stillness there was - the soft lapping of the water - the brilliant
                    stars - the tired men grouped about on their deck. It gave one such a feeling of
                    comfort on coming back to the pretty brightly lighted saloon, to think of the
                    wide desolation of the desert without. We passed the village of Hou, where lived
                    a famous Moslim saint, who sat for 53 years naked on the bank of the river. Some
                    of our sailors said prayers, and threw offerings in the river - for a blessing
                    from the dead saint. At Kosr-el-Sayd the Kitty pulled up - Mr. Tylor and
                    Somers-Clarke intending to visit the tombs there. I do so enjoy the delicious
                    warmth of these days - never oppressive because of the entrancing air from the
                    desert - and such noon days! Sitting on deck under the awnings, shielded from
                    the intense sunlight, the soft intense blue of the sky, the brilliant green
                    strip of cultivated land, and the delicate yellow of desert and cliff, all seem
                    to be dissolving and palpitating in the opalescent air. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930105" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 5.</title></p>
                <p>Another warm and quiet day - at 4 P.M. the thermometer stood Page 26 at 80°. We
                    tracked about four miles, almost within sight of Keneh when the rope parted, and
                    we waltzed out into the current, turning completely around. Such a hubbub! such
                    sounding Arabic gutterals and telling gesticulations! When composure again
                    reigned, we pulled to the anchor across the river, out of the dangerous current,
                    where we are now lying. There have been occasional flashes of lightning during
                    the evening - and growlings of thunder. Our little cat Mish-mish grows in size
                    and favour every day - and is a darling - though a bit wild and savage in her
                    play - she comes to my room often in the morning and demands entrance. The other
                    night while we were sitting at dinner, I heard great commotion, we were sailing
                    slowly, Salah rushed from the room, and I knew Mish-mish was overboard - two or
                    three men went over after her, and found her clinging to the rudder - she was
                    dried and brought to life on the kitchen range, Hanna, the cook, being very fond
                    of her. Mish-mish is the Arabic for apricot, and seems to be universally used
                    for cat in this country. Ours is growing fat and clean - and is no more a Cairo
                    cat. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930106" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 6.</title></p>
                <p>Last night when I went to bed, the thunder was growling in an ominous fashion,
                    and I went to sleep with the soothing sound of a gentle rain in my ears. I heard
                    it in the night when I awakened, and towards the morning it became harder and
                    steadier. I wondered sleepily why I heard no one stirring above on deck - and
                    thought of the sailors’ bread baked at Girgeh and which had been lying on the
                    deck floor drying Page 27 in the sun ever since. The poor fellows were too tired
                    from the last few days of hard work, polling and trucking [sic; tracking], and
                    were too sound asleep to heed the rain, for no one stirred, until I heard
                    Theodore just before it grew light prowling about, wakened it seems by a leak on
                    his bed. He aroused M.S. who in turn aroused the crew, who began a noisy
                    knocking about of things and mopping of the deck. There was the very debbil to
                    pay as M.S. said. The skylight in the saloon had been left open as is our custom
                    at night for ventilation, and the rain had run down the hanging lamp, spoiling
                    the pretty blue shade with its blue ribbons that Nettie and I had made, and then
                    descended upon the table beneath, where many of our books were lying, and now
                    Baedeker, Budge and Mariette volumes look sadly the worse for their shower bath.
                    Various little droppings, and trickling streams came through in unexpected
                    places, for these boats are seldom rain proof. Fortunately we were lying at a
                    large, low, wide spreading sand bank, where we still are, as a high south wind
                    has been blowing all day, and we are waiting for better things - and what a
                    spectacle we have presented today! The men turned out on the sand this morning
                    all their wet clothes and blankets - hung about the boat our wet rugs and
                    cushions, and we had the look of a much bedraggled carpet bazaar. The wind had
                    been blowing hard from the south, and of course dead against us - and sorry as
                    we were not to get on, we have had a lovely day. There is something fascinating
                    in these enormous stretches of sand, hard enough to be springy and rippled over,
                    like shallow water with a light wind. The air came soft, but cool and
                    invigorating from the desert, the sky was gray with Page 28 heavy ominous
                    clouds, which towards evening broke away, giving a gorgeous, and not at all
                    usual Egyptian sunset. In the morning we roamed over the sand, sketching on its
                    smooth surface - and actually ran races, so much did this life giving air of the
                    desert intoxicate us. Our dismal men looked at us in amazement - and sat huddled
                    together in all their wraps, as cheerful as fowls in rainy weather. At sunset
                    Theodore and I walked to the extremest verge of this sand island, enjoying the
                    stillness, and the lonely desert scene. Ah me! what delicious moments of quiet
                    these are. At such times one feels the fascination of the simple nomadic life -
                    and in any emergency like a failure of health, or fortune, I would much rather
                    take up with life in the desert, such as I could make it, with some refinements
                    of civilization, than with all the luxuries of a fashionable health resort.
                    Thermometer 64° at 9 o’clock A.M.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930107" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan.7.</title></p>
                <p>We started with a fair wind at 6 o’clock this morning - but at 11 o’clock it
                    turned dead ahead - and our poor fellows had to take to tracking again - which
                    they did until this evening, when we had a wind for an hour, and pulled up near
                    Nagada, having made 20 miles. We used to think that no crew could equal that of
                    our old “Nubia” - and indeed we can never quite think of our present Rais with
                    the same feeling we do of old Raid Achmed - and Hanna Ibrim our cook was with us
                    also in the Nubia - but the rest of the men are very interesting and each one
                    has developed a personality quite his own. The Nubians Page 29 all I believe
                    possess a personal dignity and presence natural to them. One day, soon after
                    leaving Cairo, when the sail was shifted in a sharp breeze, one of the men I had
                    never noticed before, received a blow from the heavy rope on his head, which
                    knocked off his tarboosh and scarf, and sent them into the river. He was quite
                    angry, as it was the fault of one of the other men - and my attention was called
                    to him by his fine dignified gesticulations, and I saw what a well made handsome
                    fellow he was, as he stood wiping a little blood from his cheek and neck. I told
                    Salah to tell him sometime that I would give him a new head gear and two or
                    three days after that, as we were lying by and he had just come back from a walk
                    with Nettie and Howard, he came up to the deck where I was sitting alone, with a
                    bit of flowering mint in his hand, and gave it to me with a manner that was
                    superb. His name is Nase - but we have dubbed him “the Haughty” - and no blasé
                    worldling, of the best and most refined type, could excel him in graceful
                    indifference of manner, or haughty repose. He is one of the singers of the crew
                    - and seems to be the wit, for his quiet remarks at which he never laughs
                    himself are frequently followed by shouts of laughter from the other men. He is
                    the readiest fellow in any difficulty or emergency - can speak a few words of
                    English, and in his clever way gets our meaning at once. He has me now at all
                    times under his respectful but indifferent watch - and when I want anything
                    done, Nase is generally there to do it. But I grieve to say that my Haughty has
                    on one or two occasions been on a jag as Howard says - and Theodore is so unkind
                    as to suggest that the noble indifference of manner is sometimes the Page 30
                    result of hashash. Then there is our second Captain, Rais Fuley (whom we like
                    much better than Rais Mahommed our 1st Captain) quiet and reposeful - with such
                    a presence and dignity - and a brown man who is neither handsome or magnificent,
                    and who wears no shoes or stockings and whose outer garment is simply a long
                    black or blue cotton robe, must have a real dignity and simplicity of character
                    to give such presence. He is a very faithful Mohammedan too - is constant in his
                    prayers - eats no meat - and drinks nothing but coffee and water. He is a great
                    contrast to Rais Mohammed who has the most noisy and masterful ways, and when he
                    gets excited which is often enough, talks more like an angry turkey gobbler than
                    any human I have ever heard. There is always one sailor told off to go with each
                    lady of the party wherever she goes. Nettie has a fine fellow Hassan, and I have
                    a cheerful, clean smiling fellow, Mohammed Ibrahim who is a treasure. The
                    Captain’s boy Ali, is a handsome little devil, whom we all like - and there is
                    his cousin little Kamyl who is being taken to his home somewhere up the river, a
                    boy of 8 years old I should think - who is the petted darling of his crabbed
                    uncle, Rais Mohammed.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930108" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 8th.</title></p>
                <p>1st Sunday after Epiphany We started tracking at 8 o’clock this morning - and
                    kept it up until one o’clock - then we had a favorable wind until 3:30pm - then
                    dead against us until dark. We had hoped to reach Luxor today, but have pulled
                    up for the night within 4 or 5 miles of it, having made only 12 miles today. It
                    has been cool all day. Page 31</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930109" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 9. Luxor.</title></p>
                <p>With much tracking and polling, starting not until 10 o’clock this morning, we
                    came along to Karnac, landing about 4 o’clock at the Gezireh opposite - it gave
                    us time to walk over to the great temple - which we did through the pleasant
                    fields - sending Howard Jones and M.S. on donkeys to Luxor for the mail. We
                    entered by the latest and great pylon - and met the very fine looking and
                    friendly guide whom we well remembered. Nettie was overwhelmed with her first
                    sensations - and to me it was more wonderful than ever. Here, as at Abydos, we
                    noticed recent and careful repairs rather than restorations, showing the
                    thorough supervision that exists now over these Egyptian monuments. When we came
                    out of the chaos of ruins in the older buildings, near the sacred lake - we sat
                    down to look about us, until the others arrived from Luxor, with heaps of papers
                    and letters. I took one of the donkeys with the man’s saddle to ride back, while
                    the rest walked - as we passed through a part of the town near the temple, a
                    party of Busharin met us, and we stopped to look at their dancing - savage
                    looking things they are with their bushy hair and black faces and bodies, and
                    their white clothes - but their smiles were most friendly. Lovely effects going
                    back to the river bank, under the splendid palms, and through the blooming crops
                    - the cattle and sheep going home from work in the fields, or resting in groups
                    - smoke curling up from the little mud houses - the voices of children and
                    barking of dogs in the distance - the splendid ancient river reflecting the
                    clear gold of the sky, and across, by the side of a wide sand island Page 32 or
                    gesireh, our boat lying with its lights already glimmering through the
                    windows.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930110" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 10.</title></p>
                <p>We all crossed in the felucca to Karnak this morning - Theodore, Mohammed and I
                    going on donkeys to Luxor - the rest to the temple. We first went to the Luxor
                    Hotel, where is Cook’s offices, and we read the telegrams posted there, and the
                    various notices, and I enquired for the pelican of past memory, and was told he
                    was not living. Then we went to see our old friend Mohammed Mohassib, and his
                    antiquities - nothing of special interest, except a figure in glazed pottery of
                    a hippopotamus - bluish green, with figures and designs in a black tracery.
                    Theodore looked very carefully at it, but we have such fear of imitations, and
                    the old fellow asked £100 for it - the figure no longer than this page - so we
                    left it and went into one or two other places. At the house of Todros the
                    English Consul we saw many delightful things but preposterous prices asked. We
                    heard the Osiris with the Macpherson-Grants had arrived from up the river. Back
                    home again in time for lunch, and in the afternoon the rest wanting to go to
                    Luxor, Theodore and I went over to Karnac where a donkey was waiting for me and
                    we had a beautiful afternoon - all to ourselves barring our 2 sailors and donkey
                    boys, and the pleasant guide. I have been for days studying the temple plans and
                    decorations, and we had our books with us. It was lovely in that afternoon
                    light. After the big temples, we went to all the outlying ones - along the great
                    pylon courts to the temple Page 33 of Rameses III, and the lovely little temple
                    of Khonsu, which I had never seen, as it has been quite excavated since we were
                    here last, and one of its rooms was filled with excavating implements, which the
                    guides told us were going to Kom Ombos. Then we went to the few scattered
                    remains of the immense temple of Mont, with its battered avenues of Sphynxes,
                    and statues of Bast - and desolate desert surroundings of the spot, with a
                    wretched little encampment of Busharin near by, was a picture to enjoy and think
                    about. In such a place, the present beauty of this wonderful old land, great as
                    it is, is lost sight of in thoughts of its great past. The evidences of a mighty
                    and finished civilization, of thousands of years of life and toil and ambition
                    and suffering are overwhelming, and make the present seem very small. A still
                    day - with no wind until late, from the South, and therefore not for us. Jan.
                    11. This morning we pulled along our pleasant Gezireh up opposite Luxor, and so
                    kept free from the noise and dirt of the town. We are lying just opposite the
                    new Tewfikyeh Hotel, owned by Gage &amp; Co. The Kitty has arrived, and we met
                    Mr. Tylor this morning while we were prowling among the antiquity shops. We saw
                    some things of undoubted value, some statuettes especially - one of them a stone
                    statue of Antif - Mr. Tylor translated the hieroglyphics on it for us - it was
                    about 12 inches high - the face bearing that noble, far away living look that is
                    characteristic of the best period of early Egyptian art. Page 34 Tadros asked
                    £120 for it and Theodore would not buy it. We hear disquieting rumours of a
                    Dervish raid near Wady Halfeh - the English camel corps defeated and the
                    commanding officer killed - which makes the prospect of going beyond the first
                    Cataract very dubious. It would be a harrowing disappointment to me. Theodore
                    called on the Grants this morning, the Osiris did not ascend the Cataract, but
                    waited at Assouan, while Lady Grant and her son went up to Wady Halfa in one of
                    the Postals with a guard of 16 soldiers from the Assouan garrison. This was
                    after the raid - and passengers were not allowed to go up for seven days
                    following the raid. This has been another day of light south wind. We are now
                    making a virtue of necessity, and as we have to wait until this South wind stops
                    blowing, we are going over to the great sights among the hills - though we would
                    rather push on, and leave sightseeing here until we come down with Mr. Fielding
                    with us. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930112" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 12.</title></p>
                <p>No wind today. Some of them went over to the Ramessium, Goornah, Medinet Haboo
                    this morning. This afternoon we went to Karnac again, and home in time to
                    receive the Grants to tea on their way home from the Tombs of the Kings.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930113" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 13.</title></p>
                <p>We were over in Luxor all the morning - walking about the temple, which is being
                    thoroughly excavated - the splendid papyrus Page 35 bud columns of the older
                    temple are all shown now to their base. The work goes rapidly on under a crowd
                    of workmen, and several railway tracks carry the little cars full of useless
                    rubbish to the bank of the river, where an unceasing cloud of dust now goes up,
                    as they are made to tumble their contents over. After lunch we rode out to
                    Medinet Habou, which has also been extensively excavated, and where crowds of
                    work men are busy in the vast rubbish heaps. Nettie and I would like to have
                    stopped and grubbed ourselves. Another quiet day.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930114" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 14.</title></p>
                <p>We made an early start for the Tombs of the Kings this morning. It was a perfect
                    day for the expedition, which I had rather been dreading - much cooler than when
                    we went before, so that with smoked goggles and veils, puggarees and parasols,
                    we made the transit through that valley of desolation with comparative comfort.
                    We lunched at the entrance to one of the unfinished tombs as soon as we arrived,
                    and then went to the tomb of Ramses IX, then to that of Rameses III, commonly
                    called Bruce’s Tomb, or the tomb of the Harpers from the paintings on one of the
                    small chambers of two men playing the harp. Then to the greatest of all, that of
                    Seti 1st or Belzoni’s tomb, who discovered it. More than ever before was I
                    impressed by the stupendous achievement, the attempted safety and secrecy, so
                    utterly futile, in the midst of such chaotic desolation as these Libyan
                    mountains present. Instead of entering by the way we came, as we did before when
                    we were here, we sent our donkeys on, with the exception of mine, and crossed
                    the moun Page 36 tain over to Der-el-Bahri, to the temple tomb of the great
                    Queen Hatasu, or Hatshepsu, as it is now the fashion to call her - the clever
                    daughter of Thotmes Ist, the wife and sister of Thotmes II, and the sister and
                    regent of Thotmes III (who built our obelisk) - I had never before seen this
                    beautiful spot - and we were fascinated with it, and promised ourselves a longer
                    visit there, when we came down the river. I would not, for anything, have missed
                    the way over the mountain. I had much the best of it of course, on my donkey -
                    the rest having to climb and walk - but I being such a light weight, was
                    permitted to ride. The path led along the very edge of the cliff, and up and
                    down various perpendicular places - but as the guide was leading the donkey, the
                    donkey boy holding on to him behind, and one of our sailors at my side when the
                    path was wide enough, I felt no responsibility and could enjoy the very
                    extraordinary scene - except, when I looked down and back, at the poor toilers
                    coming after me. Nothing I have ever seen in nature makes so powerful an
                    impression, as these desert mountains - desolation and chaos, and not a blade of
                    any green or growing thing. I was sorry I did not bring away some of the flint
                    nodules that lie about everywhere. When we began our descent, there was such an
                    entirely precipitous path, that our guide said I must dismount, and I was taken
                    by each arm, and dragged or skated down over the loose rubble and sand. The view
                    there, over the wide, luxuriant, verdant Theban plain, was charming, with the
                    great Colossi seated in their eternal expectancy at the edge of the desert - and
                    our ride home, through those fragrant fields in the late afternoon was the most
                    beau Page 37 tiful thing I have to remember. It was a transit through happy
                    Elysian fields! There has been no wind - only little zephyrs from the south
                    occasionally - and we begin to look rather serious when our friends chaff us
                    about getting up the river this winter. We are to lunch with the Grants
                    tomorrow. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930115" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 15. 2d Sunday after Epiphany.</title></p>
                <p>This morning there was the usual perfect calm of water and air. The rest crossed
                    to Luxor for church and walking - and Theodore came back for me, to take me to
                    the Osiris, which lies at the Luxor bank. As we pulled over, the wind began to
                    rise, and Theodore left orders with M.S. to have everything made ready to sail.
                    We had a charming visit - pleasant, nice people. Sir George particularly, who is
                    an unfortunate victim of gout. Lady Grant is good natured, loquacious,
                    masterful, with attractive manners. Miss Grant very pretty, with big soft brown
                    eyes, and that air of serene innocence that English girls have when they have
                    not seen too much of the world. Young Grant, nice and intelligent, with a German
                    tutor, quite one of the party. The Osiris is a fine boat - the cabin large and
                    very pretty - the deck fine - but the rooms small - the double ones no larger
                    than our single ones - but she has two bathrooms. The two young people lunched
                    on the Herodotus with Nettie and Howard. No one waits on the Nile for ceremony
                    when a favorable wind blows, and as the wind continued to hold, we hurried
                    ourselves and came away immediately, we had finished lunch, passing on our way
                    over the young Grants. In a few Page 38 minutes we were off in a fine, stiff
                    wind, exchanging parting salutations with the people on the Osiris as we passed
                    - but the wind proved very fitful, finally falling very light, and after making
                    about 7 miles we have pulled up to the bank near Erment. We do not want to
                    quarrel with our mode of life, or do anything like complaining of the pleasant
                    days that fly too swiftly by, but this slow progress is growing to be a serious
                    thing. Day after day M.S. says “I never see such a time on the river as this
                    season” and looks very sad, seeming to feel himself responsible for this
                    persistent quiet. We found one of our old sailors “Yakoub” on the Osiris.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930117" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 17.</title></p>
                <p>Yesterday between a light wind and tracking we made about 28 miles, which quite
                    encouraged us. We passed Esneh in the evening, and tied up just beyond, and this
                    morning when I went on deck, Theodore had about decided to visit the temple, but
                    just then a light wind sprang up, and we decided to sail, but the wind soon
                    failed, and what progress we have made, about 7 miles, has been by tracking. The
                    day was hot and motionless. We had a big awning up, and after lunch I had my
                    little writing table carried on deck and wrote letters. A perfectly golden
                    sunset - not a speck of a cloud anywhere, and not the stir of the faintest
                    ripple on the golden water. It was hard to tear oneself away and go downstairs
                    which I was made to do as I have not been exactly well for a day or two. Every
                    one says - all the books and doctors say that the hour of sunset has danger in
                    it - and after the heat of the day, Page 39 the extreme chill of the evening is
                    very sudden. Yet no one I have ever met, pays the slightest attention to it -
                    and it is the hour of the most charming beauty - but thick wraps must be put on,
                    before the chill is felt.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930118" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 18.</title></p>
                <p>I saw Esneh, when I went on deck after breakfast, across the great bend of the
                    river that we had been so painfully getting around yesterday. There has been no
                    wind all day until after 5 o’clock - our poor men tracking in the broiling sun.
                    After that time we sailed along briskly until 7:30, when the night being so dark
                    we brought up close to El Kab, having made 10 miles. The Gazelle passed us in
                    tow, having lost patience I suppose. One of our amusements is planning a
                    dahabeah, and fitting it in the most sensible and comfortable way - a most
                    fascinating diversion. It seems that they are all built in England, and Cooks
                    newest dahabeahs are very pretty and luxurious, though the space is badly
                    distributed. The convenient manner the men have of rolling themselves in their
                    rugs, and lying down to sleep on the deck, like so many mummies, makes very
                    narrow quarters go a great way with them, and if you step out of the saloon
                    door, and look about anytime after 10 o’clock, it is a curious sight. While we,
                    the pampered inhabitants of the interior complain if our luxurious beds are a
                    bit uneven or hard. I never feel such a poor result of civilization as I do when
                    amongst these natives, whose physical strength and activity seem all that nature
                    intended. Barelegged and barefooted, with two or three cotton garments Page 40
                    about them, they stride about in the sun and wind, indifferent to cold and heat
                    - while we, swathed in woolens, and tied up in a dozen restraining ways, shiver
                    in the wind, and faint and sicken in the sun. Especially in the matter of feet,
                    I feel our inferiority, as I note dozens of times a day that impress of their
                    bare feet in the sand, or soft moist mud - the lines of the foot so straight and
                    natural - the freedom of the toes, and their clinging, grasping power - the
                    great toe apart and individual like a thumb - I declare there is quite as much
                    difference between our cramped and distorted feet and theirs, as between the
                    unnatural Chinese feet and ours!</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930119" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 19.</title></p>
                <p>We are lying at Edfou tonight - 13-1/2 miles from El Kab - which we have made by
                    much tracking and a very little sailing after 5 o’clock, when a fair wind sprang
                    up and lasted about 2 hours. We landed before sunset at a lovely bank of palms,
                    a mile or so above the town. The rest got off for a walk but I declined climbing
                    the steep bank, and was enjoying a walk up and down the deck, when Howard came
                    hurrying back to say I must come, that they had struck a Busharin settlement,
                    and that a wedding was going on. So Mrs. Davis and I were hurriedly paddled down
                    the bank a way in the felucca, and with some of the men went ashore, and down a
                    lane between walls and trees we went and came upon the settlement. These wild
                    children of the desert are always most interesting and picturesque - the
                    straight delicate features, and strange curling, ringletty hair like a Russian
                    poodle’s - Page 41 with the bunchy arrangement of it, and their good carriage
                    and beautiful small white teeth. We were too late for the wedding cortège, but
                    were shown a low tent, in which the bride was secluded, and to which she had
                    been brought on a camel, attended by her friends - and before the tent stood the
                    bridegroom with a drawn sword - a handsome fellow - and although he looked quite
                    dramatic, showed a healthy interest in the question of baksheesh. The women were
                    making the shrill cry known as the zaghareth or joy cry - a shrill, high note,
                    with the mouth rapidly touched with the fingers. It sounds exactly like the cry
                    heard also at funerals. We were followed back to the boat by a curious crowd of
                    men, women, children and dogs - and I was glad to escape from them, not for fear
                    of them, but of the various inhabitants they kept about their clothes and
                    persons. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930120" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 20.</title></p>
                <p>When I got out of bed this morning, I saw the donkeys and one very presentable
                    horse, saddled and ready for us, and waiting with donkey boys and men to take us
                    to the great Edfou temple - but the wind coming up so fine we decided not to
                    stop longer, and Mohammed Salah went on shore to send the animals away and
                    distribute proper baksheesh and then we spread our sails for Assouan! It was
                    7:30 when we got off - the wind increased and has lasted all day, so that we
                    have made one of the very best runs of our voyage - 49 miles! We passed Silsilis
                    at 2 o’clock and Kom Ombos at 6:30 - too late to see it, but as the night was
                    clear and beautiful, it was effective perched on its height above Page 42 the
                    river. We were on deck all day with our glasses, looking at the rock tombs and
                    façades. The banks in the neighborhood of Silsilis are very interesting - the
                    river so narrow, and the great rocks come quite to the water. We are now in the
                    granite country - and are lying about 8 miles from Kom Ombos. I took a lot of
                    photographs today, principally of the crew.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930121" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 21.Assouan.</title></p>
                <p>We arrived early this afternoon and came almost to the identical spot of our old
                    mooring ground at the island of Elephantine. The approach to Assouan is
                    beautiful - the shores are rocky, the yellow Egyptian has given place to the
                    dark Nubian. The Busharin give way to the handsome Ababdehs - which great tribe
                    of Bedouins control the country in a great measure from the east bank of the
                    river to the Red Sea. Theodore and I saw many familiar things as we drew along
                    the shore of Elephantine - but the quite imposing new hotel on the Assouan bank
                    was not familiar, or the new military store house, with plaza in front and rows
                    of guns between the freshly planted lebbek trees. We drew up in front of a
                    little steamer which we found occupied by Col. Wodehouse, or Wodehouse Pacha as
                    he is called here, and Englishman, and commanding officer of the frontier, who
                    has his headquarters at Wady Halfa and was the very person to whom we had to
                    apply for permission to take our boat up the Cataract. So instead of
                    telegraphing to Wady Halfa, Theodore went to see him - he was very courteous and
                    gave the permission saying that he did not think there was danger, Page 43 that
                    they had 3 gunboats cruising up and down the river between Kalabshi and Wady
                    Halfa - and that in case of any trouble we would be turned back etc. So Theodore
                    decided at once to go, and informed the Captain and crew at once. They are all
                    delighted - Salah went over to Assouan this morning to send word to the Sheik of
                    the Cataract, with whom a formal bargain must be made. We crossed ourselves, in
                    the felucca, went to the P.O. and Telegraph office, and walked through the
                    bazaar. How delightful and strangely familiar it all seemed. We had tea on deck
                    after coming home - enjoying the view across the river of the town and shipping;
                    the ruins on the hill opposite, and all the singular surroundings. I recognized
                    the great sycamore on the island near us - and the same old abandoned dahabeah
                    drawn up on the bank under the trees. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930122" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 22. 3d Sunday after Epiphany.</title></p>
                <p>We have been over to the town both this morning and afternoon - walking about and
                    buying at the Bazaar. This morning the Sheik of the Cataract arrived, a grave,
                    silver haired old man, and the bargain made for taking us up for £20. These
                    Bedouins of the Cataract have held the right of conveying boats up the rapids
                    for time immemorial, so far as I know. They surround it with great mystery and
                    difficulty - and always require 2 days. No doubt it could be done in quicker
                    time and with fewer men. They have had little practice of late years since the
                    trouble with the Soudan, as until a year ago, no dahabeahs since the war have
                    been allowed up. The only way to reach Wady Halfa has been by Postal steamers,
                    controlled by Cook, small and Page 44 wretched, which go up and down in one
                    week. We are the first people this year who have asked for permission to ascend
                    - and now that the dahabeahs are so large, and made (their hulls) of iron or
                    steel, they are not often risked in the Cataract, as a bump on the rocks is much
                    more serious for an iron boat, than a wooden one. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930123" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 23d.</title></p>
                <p>In spite of a high wind we went to the Grenfell tombs this morning - I would not
                    have undertaken this expedition again, had I not hoped to see something new, as
                    excavations have been going on along that cliff for sometime. But we could see
                    nothing of this but clouds of duSt. I hate these climbs in the hot sand, with
                    the wind taking your very head off. In the afternoon the rest went over to
                    Assouan and took donkeys for a visit to the quarries, and to the barracks, and
                    when the afternoon was a little on the wane Theodore and I walked on
                    Elephantine, past the Nilometer, climbed to the Roman ruins, and scrambled over
                    the debris of what had been human habitations for centuries. It was rough
                    walking but immensely interesting. I had to stop once in a while to do a little
                    grubbing - everything looked so promising, and I longed to have over some of the
                    sailors with spades and things to dig - I picked up two very good nuggets of
                    carnelian. Then we turned into a village which proved to be the home of the
                    sailor who was with us, Mehemet Ali - and he stopped to greet his friends here
                    and there - until from out of one of the little mud hovels came out a clean
                    grave looking woman whom Mehemet Ali greeted as his Page 45 mother - so we
                    stopped to speak to her - and Theodore gave her 20 piasters - these people are
                    all Nubians - and looked clean and bright - as did their villages - far, far
                    better than those of lower Egypt. The women are not veiled, and their mouths
                    have a very peculiar look - I should think it must be caused by something they
                    chew - or by an intentional stain - but the effect is ghastly - the gums very
                    prominent and a bright purple or slate colour. Then we walked by the river bank
                    under the splendid palms, amid the creaking and groaning sakkiehs, which are
                    numerous here, as the island is so cultivated, and it was charming indeed - for
                    the air was full of pleasant odors from the blossoming crops, and the evening
                    fires were beginning to send up their columns of blue smoke - women were filling
                    their water jars at the river, and walking off with them strong and stately on
                    their heads - flocks were being driven down to the river for water. We came home
                    through another village, where we saw several remnants of the past in the way of
                    painted and carved temple stones let in to the modern walls - and one great
                    hieroglyphed monster stone which must have been an important member of some
                    great temple. For Elephantine has had a great and ancient history, dating from
                    the 6th Dynasty, though so little remains to tell of it. Our lower deck and the
                    sand bank at which we lie, have been since yesterday morning pervaded by a lot
                    of swarthy strangers, with voluminous white turbans and black gowns and white
                    shawls squatting about in rows and groups - quiet and watchful - and when we ask
                    who they are, we are told they are pilots of the Cataract, or Bedouins from
                    Shellal - I think it has been so long since they have had any Page 46 thing to
                    do in this line, that they are making the most of it. There are several
                    dahabeahs near us - Prof. Sayce has arrived and is just behind us - and Mr.
                    Wilbur with his American flag just in front of us. We are all very busy writing
                    letters this evening, laughingly declaring that they are our last words to our
                    friends before our probable capture by Dervishes. We get off tomorrow.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930125" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 25th.</title></p>
                <p>The unexpected has happened in the most disappointing and exasperating manner.
                    Instead of lying tonight as we had expected to do, in the smooth waters under
                    the banks of lovely Philae, we are back again at our mooring place at
                    Elephantine, which we left yesterday morning, exalting that we were bound for
                    the Cataract. We had hurried through breakfast, and on deck, where preparations
                    were being made for our departure - and a large and select audience on the sand
                    bank, Bedouins and people from the island who had come to see us off, were
                    watching these with great interest. One old gray bearded octogenarian every time
                    we looked his way, waving his hands about and shouting blessings, and a safe
                    passage to us, and then demanding baksheesh for his good wishes. The Sheik of
                    the Shellal with his special assistants of a half dozen Captains, and the same
                    number of helmsmen, and two pilots were already on deck - with parcels and rugs
                    and a coffee mill and coils of huge rope - for they always take 2 days for this
                    business. Then arrived one of the big Cataract boats with about 50 men, who with
                    their big white turbans made a picturesque load - all coming on board. Our Page
                    47 own Rais Mahommed and his crew, had yielded their places and authority for
                    the time. The decks were cleared and everything made fast. We made ourselves as
                    small as possible, and refrained from parasols. Back in the stern, near the
                    helm, were a dozen or more brown fellows with flashing eyes, and as our anchor
                    was brought in, and the cables slipped, and we glided off, all of them from the
                    head Reis began to divest themselves of their shoes, and much of their clothing.
                    There was a good wind - we sailed rapidly along through the familiar scenery of
                    the islands and wonderful rocks, and we began to feel much excited as we met
                    with the stronger currents, and pulled finely around dangerous corners, and I
                    felt a great elation that I was at last doing the thing I had for so many years
                    wanted to do. We were soon near the first big rapid, and touched upon a low sand
                    bank to land the men and their ropes - and we could see from all over the rocks
                    and islands other men coming with ropes - wading, swimming and with almost no
                    clothing. They fastened the ropes to various rocks and began to pull us ahead.
                    There had been a tremendous hubbub from the first - so much so that the wonder
                    was that any order could be heard and understood - but now, the turmoil
                    increased - all the captains shouted to each other, and to all the men - and all
                    the men yelled to the Captains and to each other - they bellowed, they
                    gesticulated, they roared - there was a difference of opinion between one of the
                    helmsmen and the Sheik - the latter ran from his place at the top of one of the
                    companionways back to the helm, and snatched it from the steersman - in the
                    meantime we saw that our bow was rapidly approaching a jagged point of rock, and
                    Theodore sprang up with a warn Page 48 ing shout, saying “swing her bow out,
                    swing her bow out,” and our own Rais and sailors then added their warning shouts
                    and rushed to the rescue with bumpers, and their own bodies, but too late - she
                    struck and knocked a hole in her bow about 3 inches below the water line. Then
                    there was dire confusion for a few seconds - I saw our sailors jumping into the
                    hold, and pulling out the stores and things, and begin bailing the water - and
                    Jones went in, and showed the men how to stop the leak - he brought out the
                    piece of iron that had been stove in, and making a rapid sketch of the hole on
                    the leaf of his pocket book, showed Theodore a plan for mending it, which I
                    declared perfectly feasible. All the while the Bedouins were shouting and
                    prancing about in the water, until they understood what the damage was, when
                    utter consternation fell upon them and Sheik, Captains and all stood helplessly
                    staring at Theodore and Jones - it was such an illustration of the civilization
                    of the East, versus that of the West - Theodore said to M.S. what is the Captain
                    going to do? He is waiting for your order sir, replied M.S. So Theodore ordered
                    the boat eased back to the sand bank, and strongly anchored with both anchors,
                    and her bow up, bringing the hole above water. Then he decided to send Jones and
                    M.S. into Assouan for help, and hailing one of the small Cataract boats that was
                    passing, they went off, and in 3 hours were back having seen Wodehouse Pacha,
                    who gave them an order for the Engineer of the Government works, who soon
                    arrived and began patching us up for getting back to Assouan. We had reluctantly
                    abandoned the idea of getting up to Philae in the Herodotus, for even if this
                    engineer could mend us securely, we felt that these Bedouins Page 49 might take
                    us from bad to worse and Jones, following Theodore’s instructions, had seen
                    Cooks agent at Assouan, and had telegraphed to Cairo asking for one of the small
                    Postal steamers that run from the 1st Cataract to Wady Halfa. In 15 minutes
                    after we had struck, every one of the dripping bronze savages had got into their
                    clothes and picked up their belongings, and melted silently away over the rocks
                    and islands, M.S. in his rage having actually flayed some of them off the boat -
                    and we were left alone, anchored to the little island of rock and sand in the
                    midst of the swirling river, which is here very wide and filled with rocks and
                    islands, among which is rushes wildly, or spreads out in quiet stretches. Of
                    course we were in a rage of disappointment - at least Theodore, Nettie and I
                    were - I don’t think I ever felt so wicked, and during the rest of the day we
                    three moped about hardly speaking. Nettie and I clambered up on some rocks,
                    amongst some little acacia bushes, and sat down almost weeping. Mrs. Davis and
                    Howard however, had visibly brightened under the whole thing - for they had
                    cherished I am sure many secret dreads and fears of danger and dervishes, to say
                    nothing of the monotonous life on the dahabeah. But there was certainly a charm
                    in our unusual situation in that waste of waters, and as the afternoon waned,
                    and the yellow cliffs came out in pink tints, and the shores began to darken
                    into violet and purple, the silence was only broken by the rush of the rapids,
                    and all night whenever I wakened there was the cold fresh air, and the soothing
                    noise of rushing - and I could hardly sleep for enjoyment of it. And so this
                    morning we slipped quietly and ignominously back to Elephantine, and when we sat
                    down to Page 50 breakfast, we found ourselves looking out on the old familiar
                    objects - even the chicken feathers left from our last slaughter of fowls, had
                    not blown away from their place. After we had finished breakfast we went over
                    for a shopping in the bazaar. I stayed at home during the afternoon, while
                    Nettie and Howard walked on Elephantine to “grub” as they said - and brought
                    home some curious little things - inscribed potsherds etc. and reported that
                    they had come across a human skeleton in their digging. The rest went out in the
                    felucca for a row. Two or three quiet hours on the deck alone, under the awnings
                    in the afternoon light, amongst these beautiful surroundings, is something to
                    enjoy. Theodore has made all the preparations for going to Wady Halfa in the
                    little steamer Semneh, which leaves Shellal next Monday, and makes the trip
                    there and back in a week. It will be alas, a very different thing from going
                    leisurely along in our own boat, independent of hours and seasons - but we will
                    see Nubia - the great temple of Abu Simbel - and the upper river - Mr. Fielding
                    will meet us here on our return, coming up from Cairo.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930126" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 26.</title></p>
                <p>We have had a lovely day at Philae once more - and I never thought to see it
                    again! Our hampers, and camp equipage and saddles had been sent across the river
                    before breakfast. Aside from our elaborate lunch which we always have on these
                    expeditions M.S. takes a folding table, chairs, rugs beside all the dishes.
                    After breakfast we crossed ourselves, and found our men and donkeys ready, and
                    crossing Page 51 the railway tracks we started out on that well remembered and
                    fascinating desert route - climbing the hill, and through the wide, strange
                    burying ground, into that famous road or track, which for centuries has been the
                    high road from the South to the North - and whose travellers, kings, priests and
                    generals have left their inscriptions on the rocks. Since our last visit these
                    have all been numbered in white paint, which gives rather an unpleasant sign
                    boardy, ticketed museum like air; but it will soon be of great interest, for
                    they have all been translated and will soon be published. The rose coloured
                    granite shows everywhere - glistening and rosy in the yellow sand - and the
                    drifts of this golden yellow sand in the great rifts and hollows of the hills,
                    are beautiful. Then as we approached Philae we came upon those strange,
                    fantastic, mammoth bowlders, rounded and worn and piled up upon one another in
                    such wonderful fashion. Strabo described them in his time. On arriving at
                    Philae, I soon saw “Yemma” my delightful little dragoman somewhat changed and
                    grown, though I knew him at once, and although he seemed to know me, I did not
                    believe he really did, until after a while he asked me to take my paper and
                    pencil and write his picture, as I did before! Then I remembered that Mary made
                    a sketch of him, and so he really knew, and had placed me. He had all his pretty
                    ways - that quaint care-taking manner, and sympathetic watchfulness - and he
                    pulled at my heart strings all the time, just as he did two years ago. Nettie
                    was in raptures over Philae. We found the Newmans as usual in the painted
                    portico, and as usual, very nice - and they made us promise to go down to their
                    boat the “Hapi” (Hapi being the God of the Nile) after Page 52 luncheon. The
                    rest declined to climb down the steep bank and then up again, so Theodore and I
                    went - found their boat charming, as well as themselves - and we stayed an
                    unconscionable time. I had never seen Mr. Newman’s pictures, and had never felt
                    an interest in them - but we were much pleased with them and Theodore bought
                    one, a view from the Philae colonnade, for the large sum I thought of £200. Our
                    donkeys had been sent round to the village of Mahatta, and we were rowed across,
                    and then home through this village and Shellal and both typical Nubian villages,
                    the former one before the trade with the Soudan was destroyed by the war, was a
                    picturesque port, the caravans from the South lading and unlading there. Miss
                    Edwards even in her day, describes its attractions. A fascinating ride that was
                    in the late afternoon, through that strange scenery. We have had strong West
                    winds for 2 days.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930127" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 27.</title></p>
                <p>Home all day - very high wind - Theodore and Nettie had a delightful ramble on
                    Elephantine - and in the afternoon all except myself rode out to the quarries,
                    and then to the Barracks to see the Soudanese dance which goes on all day every
                    Friday - I had another quiet afternoon on deck - I am ruining myself buying
                    amber beads at the bazaar - and have been busy washing and restringing them. The
                    night being so brilliant, Nettie and Howard, with Jones and Mohammed went back
                    to the barracks to see the dance by moonlight. Our little cat Mish-mish, can
                    hardly be recognized for the thin, timid, neglected Page 53 cat we took on board
                    at Cairo. She is fat and big - and most self-reliant and daring - she goes to
                    the top of the companion way, when she finds her saucer of milk on our deck
                    empty, and yowls so to the cook below, that every one laughs, and Ali is sent up
                    with a fresh supply. She stays below in our quarters, or on our deck with us,
                    and keeps all her toilet requisites under one of the divans.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930128" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 28.</title></p>
                <p>Another day at lovely Philae - rode over and found it excessively warm. Yemma was
                    waiting for me; he had told Mrs. Newman that his “Sitt” was coming from Assouan
                    today. There was another little fellow I had never before seen. The most
                    delicious little savage “Dehdowah”, not much bigger than his name, but so solid
                    and square, with such big cheeks, and very big soft eyes - he was too
                    delightful. He attached himself to Howard Amory, and reached just about to his
                    knee. Like Yemma, he carried a fly whisk, and kept the flies off his chosen
                    patron with great solemnity. Such composure and self reliance I have never seen
                    in a small person before. There are a few families living over on the small and
                    interesting island of Biggeh opposite Philae, and their little mud houses are
                    clustered about what remains of a small temple. The Newmans have them under
                    their special protection it would seem - and these little people come from
                    there, and pass backwards and forwards between it and Philae, quite independent
                    of boats by rolling up their single little cotton garment on their heads and
                    swimming across. Mrs. Newman says Yemma’s Page 54 family and kindred are quite
                    exceptional savages - and I should think they might be. She teaches them, sews
                    for them, nurses them if they are ill, lectures them and is generally guardian
                    saint to them - and as this is the fourth winter the Newmans have lain at Philae
                    in their boat, she knows them well. Yemma has acquired some new English words, I
                    heard him say distinctly several times today to some of the other children,
                    “shut up”. We did not ride all the way home, but after another long visit to the
                    Newmans, we took one of the Cataract boats, which are large rowboats with
                    comfortable cushioned seats, and a sail, and some dozen men to row, and went
                    back as far as the big cataract, which some of the Bedouins swim down for the
                    pleasure of the tourists, and a small baksheesh. I had seen the thing before,
                    and did not enjoy the sight of the shivering, dripping men as they came out of
                    the water well enough to wish to see it again. So the rest went off leaving me
                    with one boatman. It was a delicious half hour - the waning light of the
                    afternoon - the quiet, broken only by the rushing water, that strange scenery
                    and wide desolation. As soon as the others got out of sight, my boatman got out,
                    washed himself - spread his outer cotton dress on the sand, and began his
                    devotions. It was a sight much better worth the seeing than the one the others
                    had gone to see. One can never say too much or think, or see too much of this
                    wonderful rock scenery of the Cataract, such strange polished and rounded rocks,
                    worn by the action of water into such fantastic shapes, the water having left a
                    black deposit of iron on them, so that they look like mammoth castings - and
                    then these ancient hieroglyphs on the still more ancient Page 55 rocks! Home by
                    Mahatta as before.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930129" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 29. Septuagesima Sunday.</title></p>
                <p>A very quiet day. I have done a little reading and getting ready for leaving
                    tomorrow morning - sailed across the river in the afternoon, and walked through
                    the bazaar quite to the end of the town - the hills and palms a pretty sight. I
                    am immensely sorry we do not take Jones or Mohammed with us tomorrow. Cook has
                    been so very unaccommodating, and declares that, as there is a dragoman on the
                    steamer, he will charge £10 extra for Mohammed, and the same for Jones -
                    Theodore pays the enormous sum of £180 for the boat, not including baksheesh and
                    it seems most unreasonable, there being only 5 of us, we cannot take the two
                    men, without this extra charge.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930130" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 30th.</title></p>
                <p>We left Assouan at 9 o’clock this morning in the train for Shellal. Most of our
                    crew went across the river with us, and waited until the little train started -
                    giving us dozens of farewells - Jones, Mohammed and Abbocatto and Hanna Ibram
                    our cook, went to Shellal with us, and spent the day at Philae. There were many
                    of Cooks tourists in the train, for 2 steamers beside our own were going - and
                    after that short brotherhood were very glad we were to be by ourselves. We lay
                    at the bank sometime getting in our stores, and had time to examine our quarters
                    and settle ourselves. It was not very encouraging though everything was clean.
                    Our staterooms open on the outside deck, Page 56 and are fairly comfortable with
                    one person in each - but I dread to think what they would be crowded with
                    miscellaneous people - for all the 8 rooms hold 2, 3, or 4 people. There is no
                    sitting room. The little dining room just over the wheel at the stern is a
                    comfortless appartment, and so very joggly with the motion of the wheel, that we
                    are obliged to have the engine slowed when we are eating. The sailing out from
                    Philae was beautiful - we got off at 11 o’clock. Soon the river broadened, the
                    scenery became less wild, the cliffs fell away on either hand - on the West, the
                    yellow Libyan desert quite to the water, and but a bit of a strip of verdure on
                    the EaSt. At Kertassi we see the ruins of a small temple, with a few columns and
                    one architrave remaining in place - then Tafeh, and some more ruins. Then we
                    passed through Bab-el-Kalabshi, a solemn gloomy gorge of the river, with black
                    rocks and islets, and bends and shallows, on one of the islands, large brick
                    ruins - then Kalabshi and its temple, which with the smaller one of Bet el-Walli
                    we intend seeing on our way down. All the afternoon I was on the little deck
                    outside my room, with my opera glass and book - enjoying the beautiful stretches
                    of the river, so unlike the lower Nile - the villages not so frequent, but of
                    better type - many of the houses with arched roofs, and some of them looking
                    almost like forts, with large enclosing outside walls for protection ; passed
                    some splendid sycamores - the true Plantamus Occidentalis, being a native of
                    Egypt. Stopped at 7 o’clock P.M. at Dendûr, having made 50 miles. A Mr. Fowler
                    came on board from the other steamer “Oonas” lying close by, and spent the
                    evening - an Englishman, to whom Theodore Page 57 had been introduced this
                    morning - very agreeable - and had wide political knowledge, and we discussed
                    Egyptian affairs - of which he knew a great deal. Every one is reading Milner,
                    which we have brought along, I not having finished it - Theodore has read it.
                    The night is superb - we have passed the Tropic of Cancer. A cold wind all day.
                </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930131" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Jan. 31.</title></p>
                <p>I was awakened by the start this morning at 4 o’clock - slept again, and wakened
                    at 7. This little boat rackets about so, under the working of her engine, that I
                    was almost rattled out of bed. I found we were stopping at Dakkeh - where is a
                    ruined Ptolemaic temple built on the site of an ancient one of the Middle
                    period. It was opposite here that an important stele was found describing the
                    route to the gold mines of Wadi Kaki, of the 3d year of Ramses II. Passengers of
                    the Oonas stopped here to visit the temple, but having stopped ourselves to take
                    on the manager, we kept on, preferring to give our time more leisurely to the
                    best things. It seems these 3 boats are run with but one dragoman, and a person
                    they call the Manager, whose head quarters are on our boat. Yesterday, we had no
                    one on board speaking English but the Engineer, who is English - and the 3 young
                    Arab servants are particularly helpless and ineffective; so we were very glad to
                    have this manager, who speaks English almost perfectly. He is a Syrian by birth,
                    with an English mother - and is most attentive to us. The desert now comes down
                    almost to the river on both sides - and we wonder what the poor people live on
                    in this part of Nubia. The occasional strip of Page 58 arable land, has splendid
                    palms - and they are treated with the greatest care - most of them in little
                    encircling mud walls of their own and the sakkiehs are very close together and
                    worked constantly. The villages look indescribably dreary, perched on the desert
                    slopes of the hills, for arable land is too precious here for human habitations,
                    and we could scarcely descry them at times without the glass, so entirely were
                    they the colour of the mountains and desert. How hot and dreary they did look in
                    the merciless glare of the sun - not a green thing about them, and the few
                    people sitting under the shadow of the walls, or moving about looking like large
                    black flies. The river is lonely - no boats - no life on it - deep, with no sand
                    banks. We pass Sabûrah at lunch time, and rush out to see it, lying shrowded in
                    a golden sand drift - with only the pylons to be seen, two sphynxes, and two
                    statues of Rameses II standing before them; who built this temple and dedicated
                    it to Ammon and Ptah. It is on the walls of the court of this temple, that a
                    procession of the children of Rameses II appear - each with his name. If this
                    list is correct, this great Rameses must have been quite the father of a family,
                    for it accords him 111 sons and 67 daughters! This temple is worth seeing, but
                    we are going to stop to do that when we come down. The afternoon was very warm
                    and still - and we sat on the little upper deck, delighted with the beautiful
                    scenery. Occasionally great rocky detached peaks rising from the desert, and
                    desert desolation everywhere. We reached Korosko about 5 o’clock. Korosko has
                    always seemed to me for some reason very interesting and African, and at the
                    very verge of civilization. I suppose because I have read of Page 59 travellers
                    to the interior starting from Korosko for the long ride to Abu Hamad across the
                    desert, avoiding in this way the three upper cataracts. It has lost almost
                    entirely its former importance in this way - for no caravans arrive and depart
                    now. There is a large garrison here, and we walked about it, finding it most
                    interesting - the soldiers’ quarters especially built in the midst of a palm
                    forest - the officers’ quarters very attractive - and I was quite touched by a
                    little carefully tended flower garden, with familiar European and English
                    flowers in it, looking very dejected and homesick I must say. There was the most
                    wonderful effect of sunset flush and moonlight as we walked back to the boat.
                    Started again, and made Amada by 8 o’clock. Theodore, Nettie and Howard with the
                    Manager went up to see the temple by moonlight. It is well worth seeing, being
                    an excellent example of the architecture of the 18th dynasty. Feb. 1st. We
                    started at 4 A.M. and made Abu Simbel by one o’clock, - 51 miles. We passed Derr
                    before I was dressed and Ibrim, and further on Kasr-Ibrim, where there is a
                    large ruined Roman fortress - then Toski, near which place on Aug. 3, 1889 the
                    British army under Gen. Grenfell and Col. Wodehouse, defeated a large force of
                    Dervishes, led by Wad el-Nejumi, one of the Mahdi’s most valiant chieftains. It
                    was he who conquered Hicks, and let the final attack on Khartoum, and might have
                    proved a dangerous enemy to Egypt. Near Ibrim the land near the river was green
                    with palms - and the sakkiehs were busy - but elsewhere Page 60 and expecially
                    as we approached Abu Simbel the country seemed utterly desert and uninhabited,
                    and the houses in the occasional villages looked like rude fortresses with pylon
                    like structures. We sat on the deck, watching with our glasses for the first
                    glimpse of the Abu Simbel figures - at last I began to make them out, but they
                    had a most unexpected look to me, familiar as I was with them through
                    photographs. We drew near rapidly, slowing up as we passed the beautiful façade
                    of the other rock temple of Queen Nefertari - and were then almost under the
                    Colossi of the great temple. It was one o’clock when we stopped, and we had made
                    a run of 51-1/2 miles. We had lunch with the doors of the little cabin open and
                    the natives were beginning to collect on the bank much interested in our doings.
                    We were congratulating ourselves as we got off, that we were so much in advance
                    of the other boats. There is only a narrow path in the sand, at the foot of the
                    cliffs - and as we stood on deck we seemed almost able to touch the rocks. We
                    climbed around the steep bank, and across the foot of the great drift of golden
                    sand, which has blown across the desert behind the mountain, and overflowed in
                    one enormous sheer unbroken line almost to the waters edge - quite cutting off
                    one corner of the façade. They are truly stupendous things these Colossi, and
                    the longer I sat and looked at them, the more fascinating they grew. We stayed a
                    long time staring up at them from every angle, and a still longer time inside -
                    only coming out when the people from the other boats began climbing up. I sat a
                    long time on the tomb of the English officer buried there - and tried to forget
                    the wretched fellaheen who Page 61 were crowding about with their wretched beads
                    etc. for sale - and I was amused to see in the crowd of tourists who came up
                    from the other boats, a large proportion of them more interested in these things
                    than in the temple, and spending large part of their short allotted time with
                    them. But what a place in which to be buried! such views up and down the great
                    stretches of the river - the vast desolation and silence of the desert
                    everywhere, and the four seated Colossi smiling in eternal watchfulness, over
                    all! Then we climbed down, and went along the little rocky path to the smaller
                    temple, which we found delightfully interesting. I think the faces and forms of
                    the Queen and of Isis on several parts of the temple walls, the most beautiful
                    things I have ever seen in Egyptian art. After a most lovely sunset and dinner
                    we went up in the moonlight to the great temple again - the clamoring natives
                    had all gone home, the other boats had gone, and the silence, and the moonlight
                    on those great stony countenances, was splendidly solemn. The night is cold -
                    and the wind strong, and we are to be called tomorrow at 3 o’clock to see the
                    Southern Cross - all but Theodore, who declines to be awakened.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930202" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 2d.</title></p>
                <p>It seemed to me this morning when one of the men knocked at my door to tell me it
                    was half past 3 o’clock, that I had not been asleep more than half an hour. I
                    climbed down from my bed very quietly and pushed open my window which
                    fortunately opened to the east, and looked out for the Great Cross - Nettie and
                    Howard and the Manager Page 62 were just outside, and were talking to Theodore
                    who had his head out of his window. They pointed out the Cross, which is seen
                    here much foreshortened and as it were in perspective, and is somewhat
                    disappointing. Then I closed my window for the morning was very cold, and
                    climbed again into my high, narrow little bed, intending to get up at dawn, and
                    see the Colossi emerge from the gloom of the night. It was hardly more than 5
                    o’clock when I again got up and opened my window and looked out upon one of the
                    most beautiful spectacles I ever saw. It was quite dark except in the East,
                    where a soft crimson color was beginning to stir, and just above which a
                    splendid planet shone and shot its silvery light across the placid water, quite
                    to the boat. I hope I never may forget that lovely sight! We were soon all but
                    Theodore, on the upper deck shivering in the chill morning air, and just as the
                    light began to break across those four great faces, we saw our steersman climb
                    into his wheel house, the engine began to work, and we were off for Wady Halfa,
                    which we reached at 12:30 making 40 miles. The country from Abu Simbel to Wady
                    Halfa is undescribably desert, and very grand in its desolation - great detached
                    mountain slopes, evidently the remains of former ranges, but worn and separated
                    by water action, their tops, snowed over as it were, with a blackish deposit,
                    some specimens of which I got - looking like klinkers from a furnace - or small
                    black stalactites - everywhere were the splendid rifts of orange golden sand -
                    to me one of the most beautiful features of the Upper Nile. We passed the ruins
                    of a Saracen fortress, then the strange tumuli that Miss Edwards describes, one
                    of which they opened, as far as their im Page 63 plements would allow. Wady
                    Halfa looked very pretty as we passed near the fort. Mohammed had given me some
                    presents for his people - one of the long thick woolen wraps that the better
                    class wear, black, with a little embroidery at the edges, and one of the wide,
                    long black scarfs for his uncle - also £1 for him. For his wife 2 pairs of
                    really handsome silver bracelets, and £2, and another black shawl for his cousin
                    Suleyman Ali Kara. The Salah family are quite people of importance in that part
                    of Nubia. Mohammed had telegraphed his uncle to meet us on the arrival of the
                    steamer, and arrange for taking us out to his place. He proved a most venerable
                    looking old man, with brown face and white beard, surmounted by a voluminous
                    white turban, and with flowing garments of soft white wool - and an excellent
                    manner - he had with him Suleyman Ali Kara a handsome fellow with his black
                    curling moustache under his white turban. They came back in the afternoon with
                    donkeys for us. We had asked through an interpretation of the manager, in the
                    morning how far the Salah place might be - if it was in walking distance, and
                    the answer was about half an hour - so knowing the uncertainty of their time
                    limits, we had gratefully accepted their offers of donkeys - and very glad we
                    were, for after passing the fort, we rode 2 miles into the desert, coming at
                    last to a large fort like enclosure, a high wall surrounding a large enclosure -
                    with only one opening - a large entrance door, with seats on either side of it
                    against the wall, where a lot of men were waiting to receive us - a forest of
                    palms lying between it and the river. We went into a court from which opened the
                    houses of various members of the family - and were conducted to the Page 64
                    state appartments or habitation - where, in one corner of the court, entirely
                    open on one side we were asked to sit down. There was a raised dais like place
                    across one end of the room - and above this were hanging some embroidered saddle
                    cloths and things. The rest of the appartment was covered with nice rugs, and
                    cushioned divans and chairs, and a low table set out with very pretty china -
                    and we were immediately served with coffee, and large soup plates full of popped
                    corn, with piles of dates in the middle. Then we asked to see Mohammed’s Mother,
                    and his new wife, to whom he had been married since we were here last, his first
                    wife and child being dead - and they came in to see us. So long as Theodore and
                    Howard stayed, they would not uncover their faces, but when they went away to
                    see something else, we persuaded them to take off their veils. The mother was a
                    clean looking old woman - but the wife was lovely - tall and slim with brown
                    oval face - the softest eyes - the whitest teeth - and very engaging gentle
                    ways. I was a little shocked to see her hair in the tiny Nubian braids which are
                    so ugly. She is the cousin of Mohammed - being the daughter of the old stately
                    white haired man - who was formerly a person of wealth and slaves and
                    possessions - owning a large fertile island in the river some miles south of
                    Wady Halfa - but the Dervishes descended upon that part of the country a few
                    years ago, and destroyed everything. Many members of his family were killed -
                    all his brothers - and he and his daughter are now dependent on Mohammedan’s
                    generosity. I gave the mother and wife the gifts Mohammed had sent, which I had
                    wrapped in colored papers and tied with ribbons - and then we five women talked
                    Page 65 as well as we could - we being totally ignorant of their language as
                    they of ours, - we laughed a great deal - and showed them our rings and watches.
                    I think they were more amused with my lorgnette than anything else. Then we told
                    each others names - the tall, pretty young wife is named Iamai. Then we went
                    into the other part of the court to see some of the other women - fine, clean
                    looking women they all were - and from every door emerged heads of children and
                    women, who no doubt were as curious about us, as we were about them. Then we
                    said an elaborate goodbye - and the old man and Suleyman brought us home - and
                    the ride across the desert in the evening light was very pleasant with the
                    remembrance of that patriarchal family scene behind us. Having said goodbye to
                    our kind hosts, and presented the gifts of Mohammed and declined a sheep in
                    return, we took a walk about the garrison, looking so pretty under its palm
                    trees - it is of very large extent - covering more than a mile, I should think -
                    in admirable order - and the quarters of the officers, especially of the
                    Commanding officer, Wodehouse Pacha, looked delightfully pleasant on the bank of
                    the river, embowered in vines and shrubberies - the bougainvillia in full
                    magenta bloom. Theodore was invited to spend the evening with Wodehouse Pacha,
                    and is now up there. I brought along Milners book on England and Egypt to read -
                    which I find doubly interesting in these scenes. We have been having a great
                    many little jokes on our way up about falling into the hands of dervishes. Our
                    nice looking black Reis, has been under fire more than once on the river and our
                    jolly looking English engineer has also seen service on the river during the war
                    - and is quite interesting. I must Page 66 say that I have felt it reassuring
                    when we have been tied up to these desolate shores at night, to reflect that an
                    English gun boat was near. It is very cold tonight with a strong north wind -
                    and it has been cold for 2 days - and we have been eating our meals in our
                    comfortless little stern dining room with our hats and coats on - and sit about
                    in the evening done up in all our rugs and wraps. It is certainly what I had not
                    expected of the Tropic of Cancer, on so near an acquaintance.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930203" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 3d.</title></p>
                <p>This morning we took a long walk through the garrison and home by the river bank
                    - everything was in perfect order and beautifully clean - the black, black
                    Soudanese soldiers - as well as the yellow Egyptian soldiers had such a good air
                    of training and discipline - the Egyptian officers were very smart. The low,
                    whitewashed buildings, with the yellow desert on one side, and palm groves and
                    the river on the other - the sun intensely bright and hot, and the wind strong
                    and cold - I am always reminded of the man in the fable, in the race between the
                    wind and the sun, in this country. Last night the thermometer went down to 44°.
                    Since the last dervish raids, tourists are not allowed as formerly to go out
                    several miles beyond the fort, to see the 2d cataract from the top of Abousir. I
                    should like to have seen it, and especially looked down the road, along which
                    poor, brave, deluded Gordon started on his way to Khartoum. We spent the rest of
                    the morning until 11 o’clock wandering about and looking over Wodehouse Pacha’s
                    queer boat - then started at 11 o’clock - and reached Abu Sim Page 67 bel at 2
                    o’clock. We found the same group of hopeless natives assembled on shore - the
                    deaf and dumb man, with his prolific smiles, and gestures, making the same
                    hideous noises, to show that he was a worthy recipient of charity and baksheesh,
                    the same woman with the silver bracelets and earrings for sale, and all the rest
                    of the clamouring crowding people with their beads and “antikas”. We had a
                    delightful hour or more at the big temple before the Oonah and Ankeh arrived,
                    and their people came climbing up through the sand. Our little Hassan the
                    kindest and nicest of attendants had brought out 2 soda bottles, and filled them
                    for me, and filled them with the lovely, tawny sand near the door of the temple
                    - and just here, peeping out from its yellow sand shrowd is the top of a
                    beautiful portal - we could not resist trying to dig it out a little - but the
                    drift is so steep in incline, and so enormous in weight, that it poured down
                    again like a pink golden rain. If I were very, very rich, I would bring a great
                    army of work people, and under the best engineering skill that could be had, I
                    would have that mountain of sand dug away, and the never failing supply from
                    above diverted and this splendid rock temple laid entirely bare. We got away at
                    5:30, straining our eyes to the last moment to see those great smiling faces -
                    we are now 9:30 at Ibrim, having made 80 miles today. The wind has been so cold
                    and strong, that we could not half enjoy the beautiful colour effects on the
                    mountains. We have stayed in our little cabins wrapped in our rugs and cloaks. I
                    have finished Milner - a timely and immensely interesting book - and one that
                    must have great political effect. Page 68 Feb. 4th. Got away from Ibrim at 7:30
                    A.M, the day has been cold and cloudy - and I was in my room most of the time
                    reading - I wanted to land and visit the temple of Amade, but no one else seemed
                    inclined to do it, and so we passed on. Reached Korosko at 11 o’clock and left
                    at 1:30. The rest went on shore, and again visited the garrison - as did also
                    the French people from the dahabeah Teheran, which we found lying here - and
                    they were all asked into the Colonel’s quarters and given coffee - and shown
                    about - and a special camel drill improvised for them - and they brought back to
                    the steamer, a very smart Egyptian Captain who spoke English very well, though
                    some of his expressions were unusual and amusing. For instance, speaking of the
                    wild fighting and excitement of the black soldiers under fire, and the
                    difficulty of restraining them, he said, touching his head significantly “a man
                    wants to have all his wise, when he goes into battle”. We passed Suburah late in
                    the afternoon, and as the river on that side was very shallow requiring a small
                    boat, and the Semneh carried none, we very reluctantly passed that by. Tonight
                    we are lying at Dakkeh, very glad indeed that it is our last night on this
                    wretched little boat. How different Nubia, and the Upper Nile, and everything
                    would have been, if we had been loitering along in the Herodotus, coming in for
                    a thousand impressions and experiences that we could never get on a steamer, I
                    can faintly imagine. But now that the first disappointment has worn off, I feel
                    that we could ill have spent the time, for it would have taken a month or more,
                    and the river is falling rapidly, and there is always Page 69 the chance of
                    there not being sufficient water to get a boat down the Cataract. All the same,
                    Nubia would have been a very different thing. Feb. 5th. Sexagisima Sunday. We
                    left Dakkeh at 4:30, and when I came out of my room before breakfast, we were
                    lying just under the temple of Kalabahi, with a row of natives on the bank,
                    dangling strings of beads, and brushes of feathers, and barbaric arms, and
                    chickens and pigeons - and patiently waiting until we should become their prey -
                    and when after breakfast we did climb the bank, we came in for a fine clamour. I
                    never saw so many beads - all of them barbaric. The temple is Ptolemaic -
                    greatly in ruins, and hardly worth a visit - and we were back in the boat and
                    off for Shellal as soon as we could, which we reached at 1 o’clock P.M. - having
                    made 63 miles. As soon as we drew up, we discerned across at Philae, Mohammed
                    and then Jones and Mr. Fielding, who had arrived at Assouan the night before -
                    and they were soon with us. Mr. Fielding under a large white Chinese hat, quite
                    like a huge extinguisher he having after his voyage with Lord Braye, around the
                    world, left him at Cairo, and come up the river to join us. Mr. Newman had also
                    sent his felucca with his men, and the picture Theodore had bought - and that
                    with all our traps was piled on a camel, and sent across to Assouan then there
                    was a great settling of backsheeshs, and saying goodbye - and we got into one of
                    the Cataract boats and went across to see the Newmans, who were just starting
                    for an afternoon on Biggeh, and begged us as we had never been there, to join
                    them, so leaving Nettie and Field Page 70 ing at Philae, we went, and in spite
                    of the heat, were repaid; for the little island is extraordinary - its shores
                    piled high with the strange rounded black rocks, leaving a little desert in the
                    center where a few palm trees grow - under which stood 2 or 3 columns of a
                    ruined temple, around which are the little huts of Yemma’s family - I saw the
                    little fellow for the last time and said goodbye, and we all set off in our
                    Cataract boat to make the descent of the Cataract, which is very exciting - such
                    a wild swirl of waters, through which the crew labor with their oars - we were
                    soon approaching the Herodotus, where our Rais and all the smiling brown faces
                    of our crew, were waiting to receive us - and how charming and luxurious and
                    even vast the interior seemed! A huge mail of letters and papers we found and
                    our little Mish-mish went into a whirl of delighted play with me.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930206" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 6th.</title></p>
                <p>Jones tells us that a caravan of 40 camels laden with gum came into Assouan one
                    day last week from Berber, having come that distance in 60 days. He said
                    Mohammed went out beyond the barracks, where they were encamped on the edge of
                    the desert, to see them. We saw some of the men when we went into the bazaar
                    this morning - a row of great, swarthy men squatting outside one of the native
                    cafés - how their eyes did flash and how they showed their white teeth, and how
                    they looked exactly as if they had come out of the “Arabian Nights”. Home all
                    the afternoon. Page 71</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930207" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 7th.</title></p>
                <p>We went over to Assouan this morning - and as Mr. Fielding had never seen the
                    schools here, we went first to the Government School and then to the American
                    Mission School - I had been telling him that these Mission schools were too
                    narrow in their teachings and of too distinctly a religious type - and although
                    their influence has been great, it has been confined entirely to the Copts and
                    the children of foreigners - we found the Gov. school in quite a large building
                    with an inside court for recreation, and with the school rooms arranged about
                    it, all very clean and in perfect order. Milner, in his “England in Egypt” says
                    that the advance in education reform has been very great in the last 3 years.
                    The old teaching of the Koran, and the exclusion of every thing in the way of
                    science and literature that was not of Arabic origin necessarily limited
                    educational results, until the deficiency was keenly realized by the public.
                    Under the general progress in all things which has taken place under the
                    fostering English influence, this matter of education has made such steady
                    strides, that now there are 42 government schools - 6 primary ones of lower
                    grade - 34 of higher grade, and 2 Secondary schools which are at Cairo. These
                    schools as to management and method are under the best modern influences, and
                    either French or English as is wished by the pupils, is taught. The old teaching
                    of the Ulamas, who are really the priests and prophets of the great El Azhar at
                    Cairo, is now a thing of the past. All of this seems to me one of the greatest
                    of revolutions, and must bring the evident results in progress and modern
                    civilization Page 72 one of which must be that Moslemism must undergo a
                    reformation, as being distinctly alien to modern thought and progress - or else
                    take its place amongst the dead faiths of the world. Well -- on this occasion we
                    went into the English class room of the lowest grade, where were some 40 boys of
                    from 10 - 14 years of age I should think. The room was bright, with fine maps,
                    drawings for object lessons, blackboards etc. on the walls - the boys seated on
                    the usual school forms, with desks before them - making the greatest possible
                    contrast to the ordinary native schools I had seen, where the children had been
                    seated on the ground swaying their bodies about in a senseless repetition of the
                    Koran. All of these boys were clean in person and dress - some of them were put
                    through recitations and readings, and their copy books were shown, with really
                    beautiful and legible writing, and I thought they contrasted more than favorably
                    with the books of a like American class of boys - and the wonder was that these
                    Mohammedan boys had been studying English not quite 4 months! Their recitations
                    were very amusing - two of them, one after another, repeated the little child’s
                    poem so well known to American children, “Little sheep, pray tell me why, in the
                    pleasant fields you lie” - the h taking the sound of z in most cases. It seemed
                    to me one of the most promising school rooms I had ever seen, and when we walked
                    a few minutes after into the single large, dirty, and disorderly school room of
                    the American Mission, where some of the ill assorted scholars of the 1st class,
                    the brightest being a Copt boy of 12, and the dullest a big, shuffling jet black
                    negro of 20 or more years, read in their turn verse by verse, a part of one of
                    Page 73 the most uninstructive chapters of the new Testament, the contrast was
                    very great. The American Mission School has undoubtedly done its best work in
                    this country - when before the reformation in the Gov. schools they educated to
                    a certain degree, a restricted class. Though their wish and aim from the first
                    has been a missionary one to prosylites, they confessed to us at the American
                    College in Assiout when we were here before, that they were never successful, as
                    a Moslem changed into a Christian is almost unknown. We afterwards went to the
                    bazaar, where we spent the rest of the morning. In the afternoon Mrs. Davis and
                    Fielding went over to Philae, and back by a cataract boat. The rest of us took
                    our felucca with sail, about 4 o’clock, and sailed up towards the Cataract - the
                    wind quite failed - but the evening was very lovely - with strange cloud effects
                    - and a few rain drops fell - the day has been very warm - we are waiting for a
                    good south wind to start down the river. Mr. Peto came up in his little
                    dahabeah, the Camile yesterday, and is just behind us.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930208" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 8th.</title></p>
                <p>A strong north wind blowing this morning we thought it not worthwhile attempting
                    to move. It was cold, and Nettie and I went out to walk up and down the sand
                    bank in the sun. Mr. Peto came to meet us and ask us to go and have a look at
                    his little boat, and see his monkey - Jocko proved quite delightful, the
                    prettiest monkey I ever saw - quite small, with a great deal of soft brown hair,
                    and very gentle ways. The Camile was a most artistic little boat - outside and
                    in - Page 74 Mr. Peto is entirely alone, and has things all his own way - he is
                    an architect, very well known I believe in London - very artistic and aesthetic.
                    The cabin was all in white paint with dark blue and pale green furnishings -
                    Cairo pottery - blue bead mummy decorations etc. etc. Then he brought Jocko over
                    to our boat to introduce him to the cat, Jocko making not the slightest show of
                    attention, but poor Mish-mish going into shivers of rage of the sight of him.
                    Then we all crossed the river, walking through the bazaar to the end of the
                    town, and blinded by the clouds of dust blown into our faces from every quarter
                    - it is quite cool. We hope to get off tomorrow - I saw a black tall straight
                    Soudanese woman walking along the edge of the town, black as night, with her
                    silver ornaments - and white robes, with red stripes at the edges - how capable,
                    and strong and quiet she looked.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930209" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 9th.</title></p>
                <p>The north wind was again wildly disporting itself as we looked out on the river
                    this morning, which was a ghastly brown color, and we moped about until just
                    after luncheon, when there came as we thought a final lull, and we began our
                    preparations for sailing - and had pulled out into the middle of the river, when
                    it burst out again with redoubled fury, and it was with some difficulty that
                    avoiding the rocks, we could bring up to the shore at Assouan just under the
                    hotel. The clouds grew blacker and the rain began and lasted until 5 o’clock,
                    when having let up a little Theodore proposed going up into the bazaar and
                    buying some thin curtains for the cabin windows - which we have Page 75 been
                    intending to do all the way up. So we set off in a hurry, and found most of the
                    shops closed - however we succeeded in getting some of the very cheap and pretty
                    manchester cotton which is made for the Soudanese women - a kind of soft cheese
                    cloth, with thick borders of red and green. Then we took a last long walk beyond
                    the bazaar towards the barracks, and home by the river path - past the
                    Dispensary, and the clean attractive looking grain markets, and so back to our
                    boat. Mr. Wilbur came over and made us a long visit this evening - and the talk
                    was all of Egypt and Egyptian things. The thermometer has been 54° all day.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930210" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 10th.</title></p>
                <p>It rained softly, but steadily most of the night, and I laid in bed this morning
                    after the shutters had been opened, looking up to the dripping bank, and the
                    hotel above, and the few miserable figures in their thin cotton clothes, coming
                    and going along the path in front of the hotel. Rain seems so incongruous in
                    this country - all its attributes in the way of umbrellas and overshoes etc.
                    being entirely unknown here - and the flowing cotton gowns looking so inadequate
                    and inappropriate. It is cold - 58° - and it has rained hard at intervals all
                    day. We have been sitting about writing and making our curtains. Feb. 11. It
                    cleared last night a little - but the morning was cold and threatening - almost
                    a snow sky - our wet and bedraggled decks with the Page 76 furniture heaped
                    about and covered with rugs and canvas, was dismal enough as we stood about
                    watching the getting off, a crowd of natives on the bank watching us - among
                    them our friend of the India shop, who looked quite sad. We moved off slowly -
                    slipping by one after another well known landmark - how sad it is to let these
                    things go for what is probably the last time. We get off about 10 o’clock, and
                    floating and rowing we made until we pulled up for the night, about 15 miles. I
                    devoted the day to writing letters.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930212" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 12.Quinquagesima Sunday.</title></p>
                <p>A clear fine day at last - started about 7 and made Kom Ombo at 2 o’clock. Crowds
                    of workmen were busy at excavating, and the dust of their labours ascended to
                    heaven. We landed a little distance below the temple, and started to walk - but
                    the cold wind was blowing hard, and Theodore suffering from a bad cold, I
                    persuaded him to turn back with me. We were very glad, as the others stayed but
                    a short time not being allowed to enter the temple, and being choked to death by
                    the duSt. At 5 o’clock we left and went on until after 6 o’clock, when we
                    stopped for the night having made in spite of the strong north wind 15
                    miles.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930213" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb.13.</title></p>
                <p>We have been virtually laid up today - making 3 miles by 10 o’clock when we laid
                    up before a strong gale from the north. I had a little walk on the shore in the
                    afternoon. Theodore who has a cold, had been Page 77 playing chess with Mr.
                    Fielding most of the day - with a lamp lighted to bring up the temperature in
                    his room. We have been reading a horribly fascinating book - Major Wingate’s
                    narrative of the story told him by the Missionary German priest, Father
                    Obewalder, of his imprisonment 10 years ago with 7 men by the Malidi - and his
                    escape with the two men remaining alive, some months ago. It is the most awful
                    tale of wild cruelty and bloodshed and adventure ever read - and must
                    precipitate public feeling toward English occupation of Egypt - I am sure if we
                    had read these blood curdling tales of Dervish cruelty before we went to Wady
                    Halfa, our courage would have failed us. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930214" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb.14th.</title></p>
                <p>We started early this morning reaching Begel Silsileh soon after breakfast, in
                    spite of the strong head wind. There the Nile is immensely interesting - the
                    mountain chains on either side coming close together - and the special worship
                    of the river at this point is supposed to date from a time when the gorge of the
                    river was narrower than it now is, and the passage difficult. The rock chapels
                    and inscribed tablets lie on the western bank, where we landed - and climbed
                    about over the rocky paths and waded through the sand, and visited them all. The
                    rock chapel of Horus, and speos of Rameses II and Merenptah 1st. Lovely things
                    they must have been with their bright colors and beautiful papyrus bud columns
                    at the facades. The Horus speos looked even more ruinous than it did when we
                    were here 2 years ago. The beautiful Isis with the infant Horus, and all the
                    triumphal scene of King Horus returning from the miserable land of Kush, are
                    delightful - and I re Page 78 cognized again with pleasure the gentleman with
                    the coachman’s capes! A Hymn to the Nile, lofty and inspired in style is given
                    in the inscriptions on this west bank - the translation of which is worth
                    reading in the different books. How strange the river must have looked in those
                    days, with the rich colours and carvings on the rocks - and the strange little
                    recesses, with their sitting figures always reminding me of what Miss Edwards
                    said of them, that they looked like owners in their opera boxes. The wind having
                    fallen very much, and Theodore in a hurry to get on, we did not cross to the
                    east side to see the important and impressive quarries which we visited before -
                    and the lesser ones on the west side give an inadequate idea of what they are -
                    immense avenues cut through the sandstone rock, as clean and straight as
                    possible for 50 and 60 feet - with the wedge openings plainly visible. Miss
                    Edwards description of these is wonderful. We got away at lunch time, and are
                    now half way to Edfou, having made 22 miles. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930215" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 15.</title></p>
                <p>Started at 7 this morning, reached Edfou at 9 o’clock, and went off immediately
                    after breakfast to the temple. How perfect and interesting it is - one can in
                    imagination see the strange and solemn services that once filled this great
                    temple with their splendor and ceremony. Nettie and I with Mr. Fielding and
                    Howard escorted by Jones and our men, climbed to the top of the great pylon, and
                    got a wonderful view of the country, which is beautiful here, the valley being
                    wide and highly cultivated. But the strangest sight was the village that Page 79
                    lay spread out below and around us! It was much like looking into a great wasp’s
                    nest, or busy ant hill. We left Nettie, Mr. Fielding and Howard at the little
                    American Mission school that Mr. Fielding wanted to see, and the rest of us rode
                    home through the narrow, rather clean streets of the town, across the canal
                    bridge, and through the pleasant fields back to the boat. I was much amused at
                    the description Howard gave me of the visit to the school - afterward confirmed
                    by Nettie with greater detail. It seems school hours were over, but two or three
                    scholars lingering about, the school master wished to show their English and
                    begging them not to dismount, called the boys and made them read a portion of
                    the old Testament choosing or falling upon a very uninstructive chapter, which
                    as Howard said “was not above deck”. Our poor victims sat through it as long as
                    they could, and then broke away. We left Edfou while we were lunching and are
                    now at El Kab, 13-1/2 miles from Edfou - making the days run 25-1/2 miles. The
                    evening is radiantly beautiful - and the “Kitty” is lying just in front of us -
                    deserted except by her Captain and one or two men - Mr. Tylor and Somers-Clarke
                    being up on the mountain where we are going to see them tomorrow. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930216" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 16th.</title></p>
                <p>Immediately after breakfast we took some very wretched little donkeys, and rode
                    out to the mountains to see the tombs, and to see Mr. Tylor and his friend who
                    are encamped there making drawings and excavations. A lot of workmen were making
                    a great deal of dust as we climbed the path and surprised Mr. Tylor in the midst
                    of them. We had never seen Page 80 El Kab before, and were delighted. These
                    tombs date from the last of the Hyksos, or soon after their rule - and were
                    built by members of a noble family and show the same picture of ancient domestic
                    life that the Beni Hassan and Sakkarah tombs do - the same “Threshing Song” or
                    “Song of the Oxen” appears here too. We climbed from one to another, under
                    convey of Mr. Tylor and then went to the tomb he temporarily occupies, quite a
                    comfortable large rock tomb, with a good high ceiling - the shaft at the back of
                    this appartment, which leads down to the real tomb was well covered with boards,
                    and disguised with mattings and luggage - a comfortable camp bed, one or two
                    chairs - a table, a lot of shelves rigged up - books, photographs etc. made it
                    look quite homelike - the door was protected by a mosquito netting, and an
                    inside curtain - revolvers and rifle near the bed - a tub and washing things.
                    The large table was covered with drawing and photographing things - and Mr.
                    Tylor showed us the beautiful reproductions he was making of the sculptures and
                    inscriptions - a combined process of photography and pencil drawing most
                    interesting and exquisite. He gave us coffee, and to me a little vase and cup,
                    such as he finds in the tombs he excavates. The tomb next to this is used as a
                    kitchen - and the one next to that by Mr. Somers-Clarke and was, as Mr. Tylor
                    said quite “swagger”. Near this, almost slipping down the mountain side, was a
                    little tent, used as a dining room. Mr. S.-C. was off at the temple of
                    Amenophis, of which he is making drawings - so we did not see him. The view from
                    this ledge of tombs is wide and beautiful. Mr. Tylor says they find this life
                    charming - the climate so fine, and the tombs quite warm at night - and cool
                    Page 81 during the heat of the day. Mr. Fielding and Howard with Jones, rode on
                    to the temple an hour away and saw Mr. Somers-Clarke - but we returned to
                    explore the ancient fortress or walled town, which is very curious. The walls
                    are still in very good preservation and tremendously thick, being indeed 37 feet
                    in thickness - made of large mud bricks - it encloses a square of which the
                    sides are over 700 ft. in length. It was filled with such delightful looking
                    heaps of rubbish, that Nettie and I were anxious to do a little grubbing, but
                    the heat of the sun was intense - and we were thankful to reach the shelter and
                    cleanliness of the dahabeah. We were off at a little past one o’clock and
                    reached Esneh, where we are now lying at 9 o’clock - 17-1/2 miles, the men
                    having rowed hard to make it as there was no wind until 5 o’clock when a light
                    one came to our relief. Here we must stay until day after tomorrow to bake
                    bread. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930217" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 17th. Esneh.</title></p>
                <p>We are lying in a very pleasant place, quite away from the noisy part of the
                    landing, and under the shade of some fine lebbek trees - and very near what used
                    to be a palace of Mehemet Ali, in a large walled garden - with beautiful trees
                    and shrubberies. It is now one of the Government schools. When we all walked
                    into the town this morning on our way to the temple (which is Ptolemaic, and
                    though of noble proportions and very interesting - being in fact only a
                    hypostyle built by one of the Ptolemies to a temple of the 18 dynasty which now
                    lies under the modern town, and has never been excavated, and to Page 82 which
                    you have to descend by a long steep flight of wooden stairs) we were accosted by
                    two or three Egyptian boys, and a young Capt. of 20 or 22 years, very well
                    dressed, and with good manners; they apologized for speaking and said in very
                    bookish language, that they took every opportunity of speaking English with
                    travellers, to improve their own English. They went everywhere with us, and said
                    they were scholars at the Gov. school near us. We invited them to come to the
                    dahabeah for afternoon tea. Soon after lunch Nettie and I went up to the school,
                    and finding the Master walking in scholarly fashion under the trees conning a
                    book, we asked if we could see the school - he said school hours were over, but
                    he would be glad to show us the building. It was a vasty old place, with some
                    attempt at oriental magnificence, which years have rendered very shabby. We were
                    shown the old baths, which with their inlaid marbles must once have been very
                    fine - but about which an evil smell now clings. The rooms were full of good
                    forms - blackboards - excellent object lessons - books etc. and the Master spoke
                    good English which he had learned at Miss Whately’s school at Cairo. Soon after
                    we got home the boys arrived - very shy but interested in everything - we had
                    quite an elaborate tea - they at first declined anything, and then accepted
                    everything. We afterwards brought them down stairs, and showed them the boat,
                    and photographs and Nettie and Mr. Fielding sang and played for them. They
                    seemed quite happy and were full of thanks, and gave us their names and
                    addresses, and we gave them ours, promising to send them some English books and
                    papers. Page 83 </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930218" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 18.</title></p>
                <p>Another day of strong head wind - we started at 7 o’clock this morning and
                    floating and rowing have made only 6 miles. We tied up early in the afternoon,
                    and Theodore, Howard and Jones and Mohammed Salah, took their guns and went
                    ashore and Nettie and I with Mr. Fielding and some of the men went for a walk
                    along the high bank above the dry bed of one of the irrigating canals. It was
                    pleasant to overlook so pleasant a country - blossoming crops - and wide
                    stretches of the greenest wheat and barley - the latter almost in full head.
                    Here and there under the protection of walls of dry corn and dhourra stalks,
                    were cattle and sheep and goats - all trying to get into the shade, and out of
                    the wind. In one place a clean, thin, kind looking woman came out from a group
                    of little huts and spoke to one of our men. I supposed of course she wanted
                    baksheesh but he said no, she wanted something for her eyes which were very bad
                    - and looking at them, I saw they were very bad - so I made her understand that
                    she was to come to the boat with me, and I would give her something. I gave her
                    one of the big bottles of eye lotion that Dr. Sandwith had advised our bringing
                    - and I also gave her an orange and some fruit, for which the nice creature
                    seemed so grateful - kissing my hand over and over, with many thanks and
                    blessings.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930219" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 19th. Quadragesima Sunday.</title></p>
                <p>A repetition of yesterday - only that we have made one less mile. We started at 5
                    - rowing until 8 o’clock - then tied up to wait Page 84 for the wind to lull. It
                    has been a very pleasant day to me. Late in the afternoon Nettie and I, and
                    Howard, leaving Mr. Davis and Fielding at their chess, went up the bank, and
                    through the pleasant fields, and across the bed of the canal into the desert and
                    almost to the foot of the hills - how strange and lonely and fascinating it was!
                    and what beautiful lights and colours everywhere. I had a long talk with Salah
                    about his people, and we were almost home, having hurried along as we saw the
                    wind was rising, when we were met by little Ali and another sailor who said the
                    Reis was waiting to go off, but we no sooner had started then it fell again -
                    the young moon however now gives quite a light, and the Reis is determined to
                    push on into the night as far as he can. Salah says he will go as far as Erment,
                    15 miles away.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930220" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 20. Luxor.</title></p>
                <p>I heard the men at their oars all the night through whenever I wakened, until
                    about 4 o’clock we pulled up, and great was my astonishment when I opened my
                    window quite early to find we were lying at our old place at the Gezireh
                    opposite Luxor - and we heartily congratulated our poor tired men on their
                    nights work and promised them a sheep. We went over soon after breakfast to
                    visit the hotel and read the latest telegrams, and to get certain things, and
                    then Theodore and I went to old Mohammed Mohassibs. The blue rhinoceros that we
                    saw as we went up, and for which he asked the enormous sum of £100 he sold to
                    the Russian Prince Lottykof - who is enormously rich, and has an American wife,
                    said to have been a variety singer - who is certainly very Page 85 pretty - for
                    we have seen her on various occasions. They have the biggest and finest dahabeah
                    on the river, and have been near us several times. In the afternoon we crossed
                    in our felucca, and rode over to Karnac and had a charming visit. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930224" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 24th.</title></p>
                <p>We left this morning most reluctantly, feeling that we could give no more time to
                    it. It was hard to say goodbye to fascinating familiar landmarks. We have had
                    four lovely days here. On Wednesday we went over to Medinet Habou soon after
                    breakfast, leaving Theodore and Fielding as usual, glued to their chess board.
                    They were to follow us later, but it was almost one o’clock when they arrived,
                    and lunch was ready. Salah had prepared his table in one corner of the great
                    hypostyle hall, but we found it so draughty, that, thinking of Theodore’s cold,
                    we went searching about for a better place - and pitched upon one of the side
                    rooms at the back of the older portion of the temple - and here we ate it,
                    sheltered from the wind, and partially from the sun, while little Zenobia, or
                    was it Fatima, I always mix those two children, waited patiently with her
                    goolah. Most of the roofing of this room was gone - only one great architrave
                    remaining, on which was sculptured a row of such delightful cynocephalus apes,
                    that with the help of some of our men, I clambered up a ruinous staircase and
                    photographed them, though the light and position were not all I could have
                    wished. Then I photographed Zenobia, and some parts of the temple. We had feared
                    that we would meet gangs of tourists, for 3 Cooks boats were in, and Page 86 one
                    Gage steamer - but fortunately most of them had gone in the other direction, to
                    the Tombs of the Kings etc. so that we had this grand, most interesting temple
                    quite to ourselves. Here, as everywhere else, great numbers of Arabs were busy
                    excavating, digging into the great mounds of brick and rubbish, which had filled
                    and overflowed the temple enclosure and walls. They were at work on the span
                    between the Pavilion and the temple proper - I saw the Pavilion more thoroughly
                    than I have ever seen it. When the heat of the day was on the wane, Theodore,
                    Nettie and I rode over to Der el Bahari - the others going home and across to
                    Luxor for something. There is no spot about Luxor so fascinating to me as this
                    temple of the great Hatasu - or Hatshepsu, as it is getting to be the fashion to
                    call her. The spot chosen for it is so unique - in a cul-de-sac of the great
                    yellow cliffs, which tower sheer above it in fantastic forms until they meet the
                    blue sky. The imagination supplies the magnificent approach that once led to it
                    from the river, across the plain and up to its level in a series of terraces -
                    with its obelisks and avenues of sphynxes. The sculptured paintings on what is
                    left of this temple are so beautiful and curious, that one never tires of
                    looking at them. All the weary, never ending kings offering to Gods - all the
                    array of Isises, Horuses, Khnums, Khonsus, Anubises, and the like, give place to
                    cheerful portrayal of life and its occupations - and the minute history of
                    Hatshepsut’s famous expedition to the land of Punt, and its return. The ships
                    laden with spoil - the processions with strange animals and foreign trees and
                    shrubs, are charmingly painted. One of the great features of the place, is the
                    wonderful view from the upper Page 87 terrace, looking down that valley of
                    desert desolation, to the radiantly green plain - to the river, with the houses
                    of Luxor on the opposite bank, backed by the cultivated fields and palm trees,
                    and the yellow cliffs beyond. With the exception of the houses of Luxor, the
                    scene must have been much the same as in the days of Hatshepsu. The temples of
                    Gurneh and the Ramesseum were not then built, but they are in such utter ruin
                    that they do not now form special features in the plain from this height. The
                    temple of Amenophis III before which stood the Colossi was not in existence, and
                    not a vestige of it remains, though the Colossi still sit in battered existence
                    - neither was Medinet Habou built - but over in Thebes the great Karnac was
                    standing though not as we know it with the gigantic hall of columns of Seti Ist,
                    but the older temple of the Thotmes stood, with Hatshepsu’s splendid obelisks,
                    almost in a line with her temple here in Der el-Bahari - what a splendour it
                    must have been! There is great excavating going on here, under M. Naville - and
                    we came away half blinded and choked by the dust which the army of excavators
                    were making - and I had my last favorite gallop across the green fragrant plain,
                    and we arrived at home very hot and tired and glad to escape from the noisy
                    donkey boys and the clamours for baksheesh into the cool quiet dahabeah, where
                    tea was waiting, and the friendly samovar steaming its welcome. The temple of
                    Luxor has been tremendously excavated, and is now most imposing and interesting
                    - and the forest of papyrus columns which I have always thought one of the most
                    beautiful sights of the river, has now been laid bare, to the bases of the
                    columns. The great colonnade which was even more buried, has also Page 88 been
                    entirely cleared, and adds immensely to the effect from the river. They are
                    still very busy with the Rameses II end - have cleared away a great many native
                    houses, and laid entirely bare one of the pylons and the sitting Colossus - down
                    upon which you look from the height of the street opposite. The mosque still
                    stands on the untouched ground, but that will soon be removed and the other
                    pylon and colossus laid bare, the head of which now only shows. This work in
                    Upper Egypt is all being conducted by the Ghizeh Museum, and is of immense
                    value. Here at Luxor there are several lines of little tramways, with iron
                    dumping cars, which dump the earth over the river bank, adding much to its
                    improvement. We were at the temple yesterday just as all the men stopped work
                    for the noon reSt. What a busy hive it was! Mohammed’s friend and patron, the
                    well known Russian M. Goliniescheff was at Luxor with is beautiful boat the
                    Zet-el-Nil (Spirit of the Nile). He bought her two or three years ago, and has
                    spent, so Mohammed says over £2000 on her since. M. Goliniescheff had invited
                    Theodore to come and see her, and one morning as we were in our felucca,
                    Theodore and I, stopped to make a visit. She was charmingly fitted up. The next
                    day M. Goliniescheff returned the visit, bringing with him some photographs he
                    had made of his boat. They have our old Reis Achmet, and some of our sailors. We
                    had light north wind, or no wind during our four days at Luxor - and in spite of
                    north wind today, we have made a fine run of 44-1/2 miles, and are now at Keneh,
                    and will see Denderah tomorrow, which is just across the river. Page 89 </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930225" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 25.</title></p>
                <p>Theodore and I took Salah, Jones and my Mohammed and went into Keneh directly
                    after breakfast, to look for a certain antiquity dealer M. Goliniescheff had
                    told him about. I had the most charming donkey I have ever mounted - fleet and
                    easy - a beautiful mouse colour with a black stripe along his back. The ride of
                    about 2 miles along a fine high road, with people on foot, on camels, on donkeys
                    and horses in the fresh fine morning air, was delightful. Keneh is a large,
                    important town of over 15,000 inhabitants - and is as famous now as in ancient
                    days for its pottery - jars and kullas, which are exported in enormous numbers.
                    One of the most picturesque sights of the river from here down, being the native
                    boats piled with these jars. At the time of the Mecca pilgrimage, Keneh is
                    filled with pilgrims, as this is the starting point for caravans to Koser on the
                    Red Sea, and other ports. We went through most devious ways and curious places,
                    and I never have had such an insight into native ways of living. I dismounted
                    four times to enter as many houses, and I could only wonder when I came away,
                    that a pestilence was not always raging there. At one place we found some
                    interesting things, for which Theodore bargained unsuccessfully at the time, but
                    they were brought to the dahabeah this evening for final barter, and Theodore
                    got them for much his own price. One of them was a curious alabaster pot in the
                    form of a monkey clasping a small monkey in his arms, with the cartouche of
                    Merenra of the 6th dynasty on his right arm - the figure about 5 inches high -
                    the alabaster toned and worn with age. A gold ring with royal cartouche - a
                    dagger with gold Page 90 ornaments - 2 inscribed cylinders - and some beads for
                    me - all for £25 when 40 was at first demanded. We got home in time for an early
                    lunch, and were again in our saddles for Denderah. I had my charming donkey of
                    the morning “Telephone” and the ride would have been pleasant if it had not been
                    so very very hot - and I wore my smoked goggles and veil. The first view of this
                    temple is always distinctly offensive to me, with its cumbrous, heavy topped
                    Hathor headed columns, but the rest is delightfully interesting because of its
                    decorations. I thought I should have had a sunstroke coming home, which I did on
                    a hard gallop. We are moored on the Denderah side this evening, the wind blowing
                    so that we cannot move, the brilliant moon makes the night bright, and the air
                    soft and pure. Mr. Fielding with Howard, and Salah and Jones have gone over to
                    Keneh this evening.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930226" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 26. 2d Sunday in Lent.</title></p>
                <p>We started at 6 A.M. the men rowing - wind from north. At Keneh the river makes
                    an abrupt bend straight away to the West. It was very warm, and our men rowed
                    until I felt quite unhappy about them - then we drifted foolishly here and
                    there, and bumped the bow in one bank and then the stern into the other bank,
                    until as we came to the great Gebel at the bend of the river before reaching the
                    town of Kasr-es-Saiyâd the wind became very fitful and Theodore and the rest
                    taking a fancy to land for a walk, we stopped unfortunately to put them off and
                    the men who were tracking could not hold the rope, and away we went waltzing
                    into the stream - afterwards in pulling to the anchor for the opposite Page 91
                    shore, the anchor was lost - we put down another one, and are now lying in the
                    stream while the men are out in two small boats searching for the anchor. It is
                    vexatious to be detained in this fashion, the moon is so bright now, we might
                    have gone on until late in the night. These brilliant nights are fascinating -
                    and the transition effects from sunset to moonlight have a delicacy and beauty
                    which must be seen, to be realized. Made 30 miles.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930227" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 27.</title></p>
                <p>I found when I looked out of my window this morning, that we were still lying in
                    the stream, and all through the night I heard the men in the boats, and the stir
                    of movement on board - and M.S. told me they had had no rest - Theodore felt
                    much annoyed at the delay, and after breakfast gave orders that he would not
                    wait much longer, as the £3 which the Reis said the anchor was worth was much
                    more than balanced by his daily expense of £9. But it was really after 12
                    o’clock before the Reis, whose fault it was for not buoying his anchor, called
                    in his men, and gave up the search. The poor fellows looked tired enough, as in
                    the hot sunshine they took up their big oars, and began to row us down stream
                    again. We are now drawn up at a little village within 10 miles of Balliana,
                    making 16 miles since we started at 12 o’clock.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930228" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Feb. 28.</title></p>
                <p>We arrived at Balliana this morning, making the 10 miles by hard rowing. We
                    caught up with a dahabeah which passed us yesterday, flying the French flag, but
                    she did not stop - and one of the Cooks daha Page 92 beahs, the Ammon-Ra which
                    we left at Assouan, overtook us and passed down, towed by a tug. The day has
                    been extremely hot, the thermometer on Theodore’s shaded balcony marking 80
                    degrees - and 79° in the salon. We are now in a very rich country - the
                    cultivated land being about 9 miles wide on this side of the river. Milner says
                    that “Egypt as a geographical expression is two things - the Desert, and the
                    Nile - as a habitable country it is only the Nile”. The river is now running
                    down very fast - the banks are much higher than when we went up - and many sand
                    banks are showing themselves, from the size of a mere patch to long stretches.
                    The fellaheen have a way of planting corn stalks in the low water whether to
                    mark a certain kind of crop he intends to plant, or to preempt as it were the
                    newly fertilized ground, I do not know. The moist stretches of ground from which
                    the water has just receded, leaving its rich deposit, are being planted with
                    water melons - the bean crops are 3 and 4 feet high, and the rich crops of
                    barley and wheat are in head - through these, here and there are little mud
                    elevations like a huge barrel, from which a watch is kept against depredations
                    of birds, or man. Their agricultural implements are very crude - a wooden hoe,
                    shaped something like a crescent with coarse teeth, ploughs of most primitive
                    description. But given the necessary irrigation, nature is so beneficent here,
                    that no hard culture is needed. I saw some time ago, a cow and a calf, pulling a
                    plough, side by side, and quite 12 feet apart. The condition of the fellah,
                    since the evil days of Ismail, and especially since the English occupation, is
                    so improved that considering the simplicity of his wants, the amenities Page 93
                    of the climate, and the easy culture of the land, he is more comfortable and
                    happy than the peasantry of other countries. The Kourbash and the carver
                    banished, and his taxes lessened, and the contstant improvement of irrigation
                    methods, have made his life quite another thing. The agriculture of the land is
                    in the hands of the fellah - and they compose about 4/5 of the population. Few
                    of them, it is said, suffer from real poverty - many of them are the proprieters
                    of the lands they cultivate and the many public works now carried on, give
                    employment to the poorest. They are a cheerful, good natured people - honest to
                    a certain degree - apt to quick passion, which however seldom reaches violence,
                    and very superstitious. They seem entirely lacking in independence - and have
                    absolutely no initiative - they must have some one to lead and guide them -
                    hence the English officers in their army are a real necessity. They are devoted
                    to Islamism - and under evil influences are ready to burst into fanaticism. I
                    suppose it is impossible for us to realize the contempt with which they regard
                    all foreigners and Christians. We know ourselves to be so much superior, that it
                    is difficult to believe that they can consider us with anything like contempt.
                    The two races and civilizations stand so far apart, that however friendly we may
                    be as individuals we cannot understand each other. We have often remarked upon
                    their curious dullness of the senses - their preceptions and sensibilities are
                    not keen - they seem almost indifferent to pain and physical discomfort. I think
                    they are like children and animals - they do not suffer from imagination, which
                    makes half of our suffering. They never seem able to divide their attention
                    between two objects, which is Page 94 so natural to us. If you wish to speak to
                    them, it is quite impossible to attract their attention if they are speaking to
                    some one else, or watching something, or engaged in their own thoughts. Theodore
                    not being well, and I not wanting to take the long ride to Abydos in the heat,
                    we stayed at home, the rest starting after an early lunch at 12 o’clock. They
                    reported it very hot going out, but very pleasant coming back in the bright
                    moonlight. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930301" type="Entry">
                <p><title>March 1st.</title></p>
                <p>We passed Girgeh this morning at 10 o’clock - then Mensheyeh, and pulled up at
                    Akhmim at 4 o’clock for the night - having made 27-1/2 miles, with little or no
                    wind. Theodore had resolved on the way up to stop here as we came down, and had
                    been told of some valuable things he could find here. We are lying just above
                    the town, and rowed down immediately in the felucca and walked into the town -
                    found it very interesting and more nearly approaching the picturesque than
                    anything I have seen along the Nile. Salah was affectionately welcomed by many
                    people - though this is not a tourist’s town, but he has been here several times
                    with M. Goliescheff. We went into a very good house, but found nothing we wanted
                    - most of the things being Coptic. We rowed back to the boat through the glory
                    of the most beautiful sunset I ever saw - a mingling of sunset and moonrise.
                    Just as I was dressing for dinner Theodore knocked at my door to tell me that a
                    large dealer in the town had come to the boat to speak to Salah, and to say that
                    he would send two donkeys for this evening to go to his house - and that I was
                    to Page 95 dress for the expedition. So after dinner, taking Salah and Jones and
                    my Mohammed, Theodore and I went up the bank and found a man on a donkey with 2
                    fine donkeys waiting for us - and we set forth in the beautiful moonlight.
                    Instead of going into the town we had seen in the afternoon, we turned away from
                    it to another part which lies beyond the ruins of the old temple. Akhmim is
                    built upon the site of ancient Khemmis which disputes with This-Abydos for the
                    oldest town in Egypt. But little can be seen of the ancient buildings. A great
                    necropolis from which hundreds of mummies have been taken, was discovered in
                    1884, by Maspero. We first took our way for a long distance through a broad kind
                    of an avenue with high walls on either side, overhung with palm trees, through
                    which the full moon looked down upon us, then through a scattered palm forest,
                    when we came to the necropolis with its mounds of rubbish and yawning chasms,
                    and up and down we went through this ancient burying ground with its occasional
                    little mosques glimmering in their whiteness, until we came to the ruins of the
                    old temple past which we rode, and on for some distance, until we came to a town
                    clean looking, and with rather important houses on either side its narrow
                    streets - before we entered it a guard, well armed, joined us - we passed a
                    group of men sitting at the gate, and I don’t think we saw another being, until
                    we stopped before a new, large and quite handsome house, the owner of which
                    Salah said, had made all his money in antiquities. Here we dismounted and were
                    conducted through the court to a large room, well lighted and furnished, with
                    glass cases about, containing the collection - and here we stayed for more than
                    an hour, and although we were disappointed Page 96 in what we saw, Theodore
                    brought away a few very interesting things, for which he paid £15, £40 being
                    first asked. There were some beautiful carvings in stone - but these were too
                    big and too heavy for us to think of buying. When we came out of the house, we
                    found several men had gathered about - and I had mounted, when Theodore and
                    Salah were called back to look at something, and I waited for them. One of the
                    men came up to me and tried by gesticulation and words to make me understand him
                    - raising his eyes again and again to heaven - then he rushed into the house and
                    was back again in a moment saying to me with the greatest delight, “Jesus loves
                    me” “I am Christian”! and I smiled and said goodbye, leaving him very pleased.
                    What a delicious ride home that was, the air was so soft. I had only a light
                    wrap - the splendid moon - the weirdness of it all - the silence - the
                    occasional barking of a dog, or a challenge from our guard. We said goodbye when
                    we reached the bank to our kind people, with thanks for the donkeys and the
                    pleasant experience, and climbed down into our boat. March 2d. We passed Sohag
                    quite early this morning and have come to within 2 miles of Tahtah, making again
                    27 miles, in spite of the wind. We are lying in a lovely spot near the great
                    Gebel Shêkh el-Harfdeh, at the foot of some very high cliffs, and at their base
                    a group of palm trees which are waving and rustling their great plumes above us,
                    while the moon is radiantly beautiful. We have been sitting on deck all the
                    evening, - I in thin stockings and slippers - the day has been very warm.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930303" type="Entry">
                <p><title> March 3d.</title></p>
                <p>Passed Tahtah early this morning - and then Gou-Aboutig, and brought up at the
                    little Gezireh opposite Assiout about 6 o’clock in the evening - having made a
                    fine run of 44 miles. Howard and Salah immediately went into the town for our
                    mail. The day has been very still of course to have allowed us to make such
                    progress and very warm. Mercury on the back balcony went up to 87°. We had an
                    awning on deck, and I sat there most of the day. I do revel in the special
                    beauty of these hot Nile days - the placidity of the river - the yellow of the
                    cliffs - with their soft pink tinges reflected in the water - the brilliant
                    green cultivated land - the whole thing dissolved in soft opalescent tints - and
                    the hush of peace everywhere. We are now in one of the widest and richest of the
                    Nile valleys - the wheat is high and luxuriant, and the barley in beard - and
                    masses of soft scent trees give the country a park like effect.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930305" type="Entry">
                <p><title> March 5. 3d Sunday in Lent.</title></p>
                <p>We stayed all day in Assiout yesterday. I went into the bazaar with them all, and
                    found it very warm and the sun tremendously bright, so that after going to the
                    telegraph and P.O. Theodore walked home. In the afternoon I stayed at home, and
                    not having the courage to face the blaze and heat again, the rest rode out
                    through the town to the mountain to see the tombs, which are not interesting -
                    the view however is superb. We started early this morning, but the wind was so
                    violent we tied up under the shelter of a high bank for 4 hours - and the
                    awnings were Page 98 stretched to protect us from the wind - but it was a
                    delicious pure air and I felt it so life-giving that I stayed on deck most of
                    the day. Theodore gave the men the usual sheep at Assiout, and we brought a nice
                    fat little fellow along in the small boat. I was pleased to see him released
                    from captivity as we drew up, and when I was called below to luncheon, I left
                    him merrily nibbling at the herbage on the bank - I went on deck again
                    immediately after luncheon and to my horror way his brown hide stretched to dry
                    almost on the identical spot where I left him cropping the grass - and his body
                    hanging at the cook’s larder. What an example of the transitoriness of life! We
                    moved away late this afternoon, after the wind lulled, and had got well out into
                    the stream, when it was discovered that we had left one of our sailors behind us
                    - and sending the small boat off, he was found asleep in the young wheat. We are
                    now about 10 o’clock anchored in the stream opposite Manfaloot thus making 26
                    miles. The moon was so bright the men were able to row later. I have just
                    finished reading Peter Ibbotson for the second time. The first time I read it, I
                    was so touched and enamoured with it, that I thought I might have overrated it -
                    but there is the same charm about it - which though rather difficult to put into
                    words, is none the less potent. It is a venture to attempt explanation of the
                    mystery of the other life, and of the heart breaking separation that divides one
                    loving soul from another at death. That he touches upon truthful possibilities
                    and that if we cultivated our spiritual instincts more assiduously we might
                    bridge over some of the dark places that divide the natural and spiritual, I
                    think no one will deny. Page 99</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930306" type="Entry">
                <p><title> March 6.</title></p>
                <p>We made 10 miles this morning by 11 o’clock - when coming within a mile of two of
                    the great Gebel Aboufoydah, and the wind increasing, that we pulled up to the
                    sand bank opposite the great cliffs, almost at the same place where we spent a
                    day and night in a great sandstorm two years ago - when Mr. Chester and his
                    friend who were also laid by, came over and spent the day with us. I have been
                    beautifully busy about all sorts of things today. Theodore, Nettie, Howard and
                    Mr. Fielding, accompanied by the inevitable Jones and Salah, went out with their
                    funs [sic; guns] for some sport - but brought nothing back. They reported it
                    very windy and hot, as I found myself, in strolling along the bank looking at
                    some fellaheen planting water melons. This evening the men gave a regular
                    jamboree - dancing and singing - in curious costumes - and were very merry.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930307" type="Entry">
                <p><title>March 7th.</title></p>
                <p>We have made a fine run today starting at 6 A.M. for the first time since we left
                    Assouan, we unfurled our sails with the exception of one day, when we were
                    making a difficult landing. For 2 hours we came along finely with a gentle
                    breeze, when it drew ahead again, and the sails had to be furled. We passed Tel
                    el-Amarna, where we had intended stopping, but not liking to interrupt such
                    unusual progress, we kept on, and at 5 o’clock pulled up at Rhodah, where most
                    of them went ashore for a walk and an inspection of the sugar factory - and we
                    floated down past the factory and below the village and tied up - such Page 100
                    a soft brilliant sunset! Camels and cattle - people and flocks all going home
                    along the path at the top of the bank, making black silhouettes of themselves
                    against the crimson gold of the sky. They all came home with their guns. Salah
                    and one of the men carrying one of the huge baskets, which are always so
                    engaging - and such pretty masses of colour, fresh lettuce and tomatoes, oranges
                    and lemons, and bunches of pink roses and buds. Made 30 miles.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930308" type="Entry">
                <p><title> March 8th.</title></p>
                <p>We drew up to Beni Hassan this morning at 7 o’clock and I was at once awakened as
                    every one else on the boat must have been by the clamour of the donkey boys. We
                    were off for the mountains soon after breakfast - the sun very hot, but a cool
                    delicious wind blowing that made it tolerable. We went first to the Speos
                    Artimedos, which I did not see before - and which is well worth a visit - then
                    to the well known tombs up on the mountain. These tombs have been much cleared
                    of rubbish and protected since we saw them last and we found the public
                    regulations greatly improved and we were a much more quiet and orderly party
                    with no following of noisy natives fighting with themselves and the officers. We
                    had one well mounted police officer only today. We stopped after seeing the
                    tombs to look at the wide view beneath and about us - showing so plainly the
                    absolute dividing line of desert and cultivated land - then finding a good south
                    wind blowing, we hurried back to the boat, which had dropped down the stream a
                    distance, the plank was immediately drawn in and we were off, at one o’clock.
                    How cool and quiet the cabin seemed Page 101 and how appetizing the lunch table
                    looked with its bottles of beer and mineral waters and the fragrant big dish of
                    salad, that Salah is famous for - tomatoes - lettuce - and the silvery delicate
                    young Egyptian onion! We reached about 5 o’clock having made 25-1/2 miles - we
                    are lingering over these last days of our voyage - our rooms at Shephards are
                    engaged for the 22d so that we have time enough and no inclination to get back
                    to Cairo and civilization. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930309" type="Entry">
                <p><title>March 9th.</title></p>
                <p>We have made quite 25 miles today, and are now 2 or 3 miles below Colossaneh. It
                    has been a remarkable day. A very cloudy morning ushered in a day of very strong
                    fitful wind - and this afternoon everything became so threatening, that we felt
                    we must be going to have a tempest - and presently Howard exclaimed, “the sand
                    is coming behind us” and sure enough it was - in a whirl that blotted out trees
                    and mountains, and lashed the river into yeasty waves. Everything was carried
                    below in a jiffy - wraps, books, glasses, writing materials and all the
                    parphernalia with which we burden the deck every day - rugs were snatched up -
                    and chairs laid down. Theodore and Mr. Fielding even forsook the chess board to
                    which they are usually glued, and rushed to see what the matter was. We let our
                    anchor go, and waited to see what the storm would come to - in half an hour it
                    began raining, and rained quite smartly. But before the sun set, it was quite
                    clear again, and the freshly washed air quite delicious. I went on deck while
                    every one else had forsaken it, but finding it still damp and wet, was going
                    down again when Jones brought Page 102 a dry thick rug for the floor, and an
                    easy chair and my big cloak, and I sat snugly comfortable until it was time to
                    go below and dress for dinner. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930310" type="Entry">
                <p><title>March 10th.</title></p>
                <p>When I first looked out of my window this morning, the mist was driving and
                    rolling from off the river, giving a most curious effect - showing how much
                    colder it was than usual - and I shivered through my dressing. We had been under
                    way for some time, and had passed Abou Girgeh - and by 11 o’clock were pulling
                    up to Maghaghah, where we were to post letters, get out mail, and a box of
                    Apollinaris waiting for us, which had been sent on from Cairo. Theodore called
                    out to me that they were going to walk into town, so I left my letters which I
                    had been impatiently writing all the morning, and hurried off with them. The
                    morning was delicious - and we enjoyed our walk, the town quite pretty, with the
                    inevitable sugar factory and railway. A small canal with pollard willows on
                    either side led through part of the town, looking quite English and very
                    pleasant. We went through the market square, and to the very good little railway
                    station and then to the river by another way - the canal and willows skirting a
                    meadow with cottages and little gardens opposite. A number of Europeans live
                    here - and we stopped at a neat little house, its verandah covered with vines,
                    and the little garden bright with flowers, to compliment the comely Scotch body,
                    who sat on the verandah, on her flowers. Her husband, a Scotch engineer of one
                    of the factories came out and was very friendly - giving me some white Page 103
                    roses and gilly flowers. We have come along gaily under our sails today, and
                    pulled up at 7 o’clock at Benisoef, having made 58-1/2 miles. For days we have
                    been passing through the pigeon country, all the towns have the houses crowned
                    with the curious pigeon towers - looking like pylons - and the pigeons swarm and
                    circle in the air. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930311" type="Entry">
                <p><title>March 11th.</title></p>
                <p>Did not start until 7 o’clock - morning cold and thick with gale from the South -
                    made only 3 miles, stopping at an interesting looking Coptic Der, or Convent,
                    into which we found we could not enter, as the two inmates had gone over to
                    Benisoef, and taken the key with them. We then went a little farther and
                    attempted to land on the lee bank, the wind being very stiff, but we brought up
                    with a slight bump upon some rocks - and so put out in the stream again and made
                    for the other shore. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930312" type="Entry">
                <p><title>March 12. 4th Sunday in Lent.</title></p>
                <p>We passed Zawieh early this morning, and came on to Wastah 4 miles below, where
                    we are now lying - making 10 miles - intending to visit the pyramid of Medûm. I
                    was not feeling very well this A.M. and did not like the long ride in the sun -
                    so stayed at home - and had a busy quiet day. The dahabeah “Eva” flying the
                    American flag, with a Mr. and Mrs. Goddard, is lying near us. Such a laughable
                    scene occurred this afternoon. I had walked to the end of the deck looking at a
                    native boat, with its cargo of men and women, donkeys and horses making a land
                    Page 104 ing next us. A very large camel was on board, and was the very last
                    thing to attempt landing, the men holding him by the bridle, made a motion to
                    encourage him to make his jump over the low side of the boat but the camel
                    declined and and suddenly turning jumped into the river pulling the man with
                    him, and began making for the opposite shore - when the man emerged from his
                    unexpected plunge, he clambered on the camel’s back and shouted for help - some
                    of our men jumped into the felucca, and went out to his rescue, and finally
                    succeeded in towing the camel in - but when he reached shallow water, he laid
                    down on his side and for sometime refused to move. I am sure he had a good
                    reason for such behavior. Which reminds me that yesterday that Nettie and I and
                    Mr. Fielding started for a walk, and struck across the country to a canal
                    embankment we saw - from which we looked over wide fields of grain - the barley
                    well bearded, and the wheat almost as far advanced - and here and there the
                    little cleared spaces for the flocks - which always give such a pleasant aspect
                    to Egyptian fields - with their little groups of animals and men - looking
                    almost like appartments. At one place we came upon one of these with a dozen or
                    more camels feeding, with 3 very young camels - skipping and playing about - and
                    anything more ludicrous and awkward than their gambols, I have never seen - they
                    suggested very, very huge Grand-daddy-long-legs in sportive humour. I thought it
                    a good chance to get some camels milk, which I have been wanting to try, but
                    have never been able to get - so after a great mix of English and Arabic words
                    and many gesticulations we succeeded in making them understand what we wanted -
                    they said “aiwah” so we sent one of our men back Page 105 to the boat for a
                    pitcher - but after that came it proved very difficult to make the camel give
                    down her milk - but we did get a little, and very delicious and delicate it was.
                    I have been reading for the second time, Lady Duff Gordon’s “Last Letters from
                    Egypt”. They are very charming - quite aside from their literary merit, which is
                    great. The entire self forgetfulness that made her strong enough to come and
                    spend her last suffering years in a strange land, and to throw herself heartily
                    and helpfully into the lives and interests of the people about her, is very
                    lovely. There is such noble, catholic sympathy in every page of her letters,
                    that it makes one serene to read them. I should like to have known the old Sheik
                    Yussef - her familiar friend and adviser at Luxor. I asked our old Mohammed
                    Mohassib one day at Luxor, if he were still living. “No”, he said, “he died last
                    year - he was a great good man - but he has a son now living here”. In her last
                    letter to her husband, written a month before she died, she urges him as he had
                    not been well, not to attempt coming to Egypt - for, she says “it would be too
                    painful for me to part with you again; and as it is, I can wait patiently for
                    the end among people who are kind and loving enough to be comfortable, without
                    too much feeling of the pain of parting”.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930313" type="Entry">
                <p><title> March 13th.</title></p>
                <p>This had been the worst day I have ever known in Egypt. We came about 4 miles
                    from Wastah, but at 9 o’clock the gale was so strong from the north, that
                    Theodore gave orders to tie up, and we have not Page 106 stirred since, except
                    as the violent wind has battered us about. There is really a heavy sea on - and
                    the sun shines only fitfully from out the brown sky - and the sand flies,
                    penetrating everywhere. A “raconteur” or wandering minstrel came along this
                    morning, with a curious wooden musical instrument, with only 2 strings, which he
                    played with a bow - something like an attenuated violincello - he brought out a
                    wonderful variety of sound, and sang or recited in a very dramatic manner. Our
                    sailors sitting about the deck, wrapped in their shawls, enjoyed it immensely.
                    The afternoon was the dullest I have ever spent on the Nile. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930314" type="Entry">
                <p><title>March 14.</title></p>
                <p>When I awakened this morning I heard the men at their oars, and at breakfast
                    Mohammed said we had made about 14 miles. The morning was cool with a good many
                    clouds hanging about, and last night, I heard it raining smartly, for a few
                    moments. We were on deck soon after breakfast, glad enough to get out again. The
                    Meydoum pyramid had disappeared from sight, but the Dashur pyramids and finally
                    the Sakkarah came into sight. What tremendous things they are - especially seen
                    from a distance - they then show their enormous size and dominate the country.
                    As the morning wore on, the wind grew very cold, and drew out straight ahead,
                    and after drifting about some time, we tied up near a pretty spot, where was a
                    kind of cottage now deserted, and what had been a fine garden. After lunch we
                    went up the bank, and walked about the garden, which was filled with young
                    orange and lemon trees -and a great many pomegranites, now just coming into
                    their new red and green foliage. Page 107 We found some superb thistles, with
                    beautiful variegated leaves, making a very decorative plant - and a lot of small
                    chicory flowers - quite like ours, but smaller and of a more branching habit.
                    And Hassan found a green Mantis insect, which Jones took home. The air has been
                    delicious today - so cool and grateful and fragrant. We have made today about 25
                    miles - and are now lying below some lofty pines, within a few miles of
                    Bedrasheyn, which we will reach tomorrow. The wind is at last quiet - and the
                    night serene.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930315" type="Entry">
                <p><title> March 15th.</title></p>
                <p>Arrived at Bedrasheyn this morning early, making 10 miles - and directly after
                    breakfast, started out to Memphis and Sakkarah. A more perfect day could not
                    have been imagined - cool and a trifle cloudy it was quite perfect. Five years
                    ago, on just such another morning I took that same charming ride - through the
                    pleasant palm groves, and past the mud villages and across the fields, with
                    their fragrant blossoming crops, and herds of cattle and sheep in their little
                    camps, made by cutting down the crop for a space, and leaving the rest as
                    enclosing walls. Then again into the palms, where lie the two colossal recumbent
                    figures of Rameses II, and where we stopped to see what was not to be seen when
                    we were here before, the excavations of the famous temple of Ptah, which has
                    been lying for centuries under a magnificent grove of palms - it was curious to
                    see the trees left in a huge ball of earth, perhaps for transplanting, and the
                    ruined walls, columns, broken statues etc. - lying down below. The bases of the
                    columns which are in place, are Page 108 truly colossal, and the carvings and
                    inscriptions on them, and on the walls, are in beautiful style. We reached
                    Mariette’s house just in time for lunch, which we had taken with us, and found
                    two parties already lunching there. One of them was the Russian Prince Soltykoff
                    with his dragoman, a crowd of servants - silver service - easy chairs -
                    embroidered coverings, and I don’t know what all. His dragoman told Salah that
                    he had quarelled with his pretty wife, and sent her back to Paris. He looked
                    most lonely, a weak young fellow, and had a hollow cough. We walked about, and
                    sat down on that long wide, covered verandah waiting for our lunch to be ready -
                    and saw the departure of the English party, the arrival of a German group - and
                    the getting under way of two or three camels, laden with the elaborate Soltykoff
                    equipage - then after we had lunched, went to the Serapeum, and to the tomb of
                    Ti, which is much better seen than formerly - a new roof now covers it, and a
                    sky light which seems incongruous - but it affords protection, and enables one
                    to see the fascinating interior, it is a beautiful work of the Ancient Empire.
                    We lingered about in the desert, and rode leisurely home, in as roundabout a way
                    as we could - for it was all so charming - earth, air, sky - and we felt it was
                    our last expedition. We are lying in a beautiful spot - with the palms near us,
                    with their fascinating perspectives, an English dahabeah near us. We intend
                    crossing the river tomorrow for a day at Helouan. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930316" type="Entry">
                <p><title>March 16th.</title></p>
                <p>I have passed the first dull day I ever had in Egypt! We went Page 109 over to
                    Helouan this morning - a well known and much frequented health resort, with
                    sulphur baths, lying in the desert. A dreary, ghastly looking place, with its
                    bright staring new french houses, and hardly a tree or shrub. The late Khedive
                    was very fond of this place, and indeed died there - and during his life time he
                    discouraged all planting of trees and shrubs - believing the pure desert air
                    contaminated by them. We lunched at the Khedival Hotel - a modern large,
                    luxurious hotel, much superior in its fittings and arrangements to Shepheards.
                    There were a lot of English people there - Mr. Fielding found some people he
                    knew - and we were all glad to come away, and reach home, feeling the day had
                    been quite wasted. I should so much rather have stayed - and wandered through
                    the palms and enjoyed Bedrasheyn.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930317" type="Entry">
                <p><title> March 17.</title></p>
                <p>We made 13 miles between our landing place of last night, and our present one
                    here at Ghizeh - just opposite the entrance gates of the palace, which is now
                    the museum. A strong North wind has been blowing all day, and we laid by two or
                    three times, but about 5 o’clock were able to pull off up here at Ghizeh. We
                    went over to the palace at once, though it was past the museum hours, and went
                    into the garden, and wandered about delightedly until almost dark, the air so
                    soft, and the whole place to ourselves - with such superb, though eastern
                    gardening - it seemed as if it might be fairyland. The minarets of Cairo seem
                    almost opposite us - and we much congratulate ourselves on our position. The
                    citadel with its slender minarets is a most striking fea Page 110 ture as you
                    approach Cairo but as you get nearer the effect is much lost - and the
                    impression of airy height much lessened. Salah went into Cairo tonight. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930318" type="Entry">
                <p><title>March 18th.</title></p>
                <p>Salah came out on a donkey this morning early with a huge packet of letters and
                    papers - having made an arrangement at Shepheards to supply us with carriages
                    while we lie here. We had intended going over to the museum after breakfast, but
                    Theodore wanted to go in town and see the rooms that had been reserved for us at
                    Shepheards, and wanted me to go with him. We found a charming suite of rooms -
                    but we do not want to take possession of them until the 22d. We went to some
                    shops, and then gladly drove back to our beloved Herodotus. The day has been
                    dull, and a very strong cold north wind blowing - and everybody in Cairo
                    complaining of the unusual weather. After lunch Theodore, Fielding, Nettie and I
                    went into the museum. Mrs. Davis and Howard electing to drive into town. We made
                    the round of the ground floor rooms mostly. I am enormously impressed with the
                    masterpieces of Ancient art, whenever I see them. Ra Hotep and his wife
                    Nefert-Ari sitting affectionately side by side for thousands of years! and the
                    two Ranofer statues - and the Sheik el-Beled - they all seemed wonderful again,
                    especially the Ranofers. We were surprised and delighted to find two new
                    statuettes of quite remarkable value, found at Memphis only two months ago of
                    the 4-5th dynasty, one of them a sitting scribe - the finest thing I have seen
                    in Egyptian art. It is a seated scribe - 51 centimeters high - of calcareous
                    limestone - the flesh is tinted red, and the hair black - the eyes of quartz
                    Page 111 with the lines of the eye lids in bronze - the modelling is fine - he
                    holds a papyrus on his lap, and looks up from it with a serene, intent gaze,
                    wonderful in its reality. It was found in a brick mastaba at Sakkarah. Then the
                    wealth of stelae shown in that never ending succession of vast appartments - of
                    such delightful interest, that one could spend months over them instead of
                    hours. Nettie is absorbed over all these things and as interested as I could
                    wish her to be. We could but glance at most of the curious monuments and
                    treasures. We had intended going into the garden afterwards, but I was blind
                    with fatigue and all of us very tired, so we went home for tea and rest. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930319" type="Entry">
                <p><title>March 19th.5th Sunday in Lent.</title></p>
                <p>The fast of Ramadan was ushered in last night by the firing of many guns from the
                    Citadel - and all good Mohammedans now will neither eat or smoke until the
                    evening gun tomorrow releases them from their fast, until the rising of the sun
                    on the following morning. The effect of this fasting is said to be none of the
                    best - as shown in irritability and sickness - excessive nightly feasting ,
                    following the day of fasting. Theodore, Nettie and I went to the Musuem this
                    morning, the rest driving into church - but we found the Museum closed, and
                    learned that from today, it will only open in the afternoons - so we divided our
                    time between the garden and driving, and went back in the afternoon and spent
                    all of it there. Tonight as the sunset gun was fired from the citadel, breaking
                    the fast of the day, a great shout went up from the city, which we could plainly
                    hear - with the noise of drums and music. Page 112 There is always much noise
                    and carousing and wickedness on Ramadan nights. All our men at once fell with
                    alacrity on their evening meal which was ready and waiting for them. They all,
                    with one or two not very honorable exceptions, keep the fast. Nose, the haughty,
                    is one of the exceptions. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930320" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Monday, March 20.</title></p>
                <p>Every time we have gone over to the garden, we have taken in with us two or three
                    of our sailors - and they have so enjoyed it - passing the turnstile and seeing
                    tickets bought for them - and the magnificence of the gardens, the fountains,
                    the terraces, the little bridges over the islands, filled them with childish
                    delight. So, before we started out to the Pyramids this morning, I told Salah to
                    invite the whole crew, from the Captain to the Captain’s boy, to go over, and I
                    gave Abbocato the entrance money. Mrs. Davis and I drove in the landau, the rest
                    went on donkeys. We lunched at the Mena - a beautiful hotel, crowded with
                    English people. We found Mr. Tylor, and Mr. Somers-Clarke there. After our visit
                    to the Pyramids and Temple of the Sphynx we went back to the hotel and had tea
                    on the terrace. The day has been disagreeable - a violent hot south wind
                    blowing, sand flying, flies sticking. We were very glad to get home. Tonight is
                    cloudy and threatening. We are so sad that the last days of our Nile life are
                    running away so faSt. I bestow special caresses upon Mish-mish, and find her
                    antics more and more beguiling - and I wonder after Salah takes her to his Cairo
                    home, if she will not long for the happy Nile days and her Page 113 river
                    companions. We have already begun our packing - and tomorrow the dismantling
                    will begin in earnest, alas! </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930321" type="Entry">
                <p><title>March 21.</title></p>
                <p>It has rained hard most of the day. We fussed and packed this morning and Nettie
                    and I groaned and sighed every time we looked at each other. Soon after lunch we
                    all went over to the Museum, driving in the rain. It was a free day, so we asked
                    all the sailors to go with us. It was so interesting to see how they all took
                    it. I think the vastness and splendor of the palace impressed them more, than
                    all its treasures. They were transfixed with amazement in the great central
                    hall, where all the royal and priestly mummies lie in their glass biers. Nose
                    was so funny - after looking at one and then another he would look at me so
                    sadly and stroke his head, as if he were saying, “this is too sad, take me
                    away”. We have been having our last tea round the smoking samovar and we are so
                    sorry, that we are just stupid and dull. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930323" type="Entry">
                <p><title>March 23.</title></p>
                <p>We are settled in a charming suite of rooms here at Shepheards quite at the
                    opposite end of the house from that we were in before. The sitting room has a
                    projecting corner window giving a pleasant outlook on the terraces below, and
                    the busy life of the street. Most of the bed rooms lie on the garden side. My
                    big one does, with a little balcony overlooking the lovely garden - and opening
                    out of the sitting room. Page 114 Everybody growls about the weather and indeed
                    it is extraordinary - for a week past it has been cold, windy, with frequent
                    rains. We are a month later than we were before, yet I have never known it so
                    cold here. We left the Herodotus yesterday morning - the final dismantling and
                    farewells always so sad, were at last made, and we and most of our belongings
                    were piled into Shepheards big omnibus, and left that pleasant life behind us.
                    Some of our men have been up today to see us. We went to the bazaar this
                    afternoon. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930324" type="Entry">
                <p><title>March 24.</title></p>
                <p>Nettie, Howard and I went to three Mosques this morning - that of Sultan Hassan
                    which I had seen before - that of Bardemt, small, exquisitely decorated -
                    properly a Zawiya, I suppose, where prayers are daily offered, but no sermons
                    preached. Then to Gami el-Muaiyad which was built 500 years ago, and is now
                    being extensively and judiciously restored by a Society of Christians or
                    foreigners, who look after ruinous architecture that is worth preserving - for
                    no Musselman ever thinks of repairing anything. It is very beautiful. In the
                    afternoon Nettie and I drove out on the Shubra, and saw a polo game for a little
                    while, but we both agreed it was absurd to spend time in Cairo watching polo!
                    Theodore is not well. Dr. Sandwith has seen him two or three times, and
                    pronounces it liver. He is put on a diet, and ordered daily exercise on a
                    donkey. Page 115 </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930326" type="Entry">
                <p><title>March 26. Palm Sunday.</title></p>
                <p>Weather is still extraordinarily cold - it is more like January than the end of
                    March. Storms rage on the Mediterranean, and two of the passenger steamers could
                    not make a landing at Alexandria last week and had to go on to Port Said. The
                    Rubitino S.S. could not go out from Alexandria - and so on - We have had a fire
                    in the little open stove in our sitting room for 3 days - and there has been one
                    in the reading room downstairs every evening, a thing I never saw before. Dr.
                    Wandwith [sic; Sandwith] who has been coming in often to see Theodore and who is
                    extremely nice and interesting, and knows every thing about Egypt, was talking
                    to me the other day about the hospital which is under his charge here, with a
                    number of English nurses - and asked me if I would like to see it. Whereupon we
                    arranged to go yesterday, and Nettie and I drove around to his office for him in
                    the afternoon - and then drove almost out to old Cairo - passing the great
                    gardens and palace of Ibrahim Pacha, an uncle of the young Khedive - and then
                    the huge palace which belonged to his great grandmother, and where all her
                    servants and retainers still live. The hospital is now what was formerly the
                    Kasr el-Ain barracks, and is very large, in the form of a parallelogram - and
                    has about 400 patients. Barren and comfortless as it is in many respects, it was
                    clean, and had not a particle of hospital odour about it. There is a pleasant
                    looking house within the walls, near thementrance [sic; the entrance] gate, but
                    quite apart from the hospital, which is the home of the nurses. We were welcomed
                    by Miss Bishop, who went about with us - a tall, fair, nice looking young woman,
                    fresh as a rose. In all the Page 116 wards into which we went the windows were
                    permanently taken out - which shows what this climate is. We saw one most
                    extraordinary patient. The Dr. called her his phonograph. In her bed in a corner
                    of one of the wards lay a very black woman - a Nubian - with her eyes closed,
                    most of the time. She imitates every sound and movement she hears or sees -
                    perfectly unconsciously - of course understanding no language but her own. Dr.
                    Sandwith spoke to her in French, then in German, and English - she spoke in a
                    low feeble voice, and with effort, as if she were moved by an invisible force. I
                    raised my lorgnette to look at her, and she at once imitated the movement even
                    to spreading 2 fingers, and peering at me through them. It was most curious. The
                    most interesting thing I saw though, was a merry little black boy of about 4
                    years, clean and nice, who hung about Miss Bishop all the time, who was most
                    affectionate with him. He went everywhere with us and she called him Jimmy, and
                    he called her Sister. When I remarked upon his very attractive face, she said O!
                    this our little prisoner of war, the son of the great Dervish general and
                    Prince, Wad el-Nejenne, who was killed in the battle of Toski - this boy was
                    found on the battle field, then only a baby of 6 months, and given into the
                    charge of a Nubian woman and sent to Cairo by Gen. Grenfell, and committed to
                    the care of the Sisters at the hospital. He is quite an important little
                    personage, and may perhaps have a role to play in the future. Miss Bishop says
                    the Soudanese often come to pay homage to him, and for a year or two, he was not
                    allowed outside the walls of the hospital for fear he might be captured. He
                    gravely drew himself up, when we came Page 117 away, and made the military
                    salute. The contrast of his present and future life, with his origin, is very
                    interesting. Before we left, Miss Bishop took us up to the roof of the hospital,
                    which was quite flat without any projecting parapet or balustrade at the sides.
                    It forms the exercise ground for the women, and it looked very curious as we
                    drove away, to see those draped figures against the sky. We made the whole round
                    of the building there, Jimmy frisking about us like a merry little dog. The view
                    from it was charming - the island of Rhoda across the narrow arm of the Nile,
                    just opposite - the Pyramids in the distance - the crowd of minarets - the wide
                    extent of Cairo. It has been raining today much of the time. I stayed at home
                    with Theodore this morning, and Howard and I went to afternoon service at 5.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930327" type="Entry">
                <p><title> March 27.</title></p>
                <p>There are a lot of Indian dignitaries staying in the hotel. The Sultan of Jahore,
                    who is very quiet and looks like a middle aged Englishman, and the Maharajah of
                    Karpothalia, with their respective suites. The latter people are very Indiany -
                    and though they wear European dress, always wear, indoors and out, big,
                    magnificent turbans, exquisitely arranged. It is quite a sight to see them
                    coming in to dinner, in the conventional evening dress, with their huge turbans
                    - but it is still more of a sight to see them in the most extreme and correct
                    English riding clothes, with pale blue, or rose coloured turbans. The other
                    evening there was a ball, or dance - and they came out in wonderful attire.
                    Nettie and I went into the bazaar this Page 118 morning with Salah and made some
                    purchases - and this afternoon in spite of threatening weather, we went to the
                    Tombs of the Khalifs, and the Mosque of Sultan Hassan. Nettie and Theodore on
                    donkeys, the rest of us in the carriage. It poured with rain when we were coming
                    back, and we had to take Nettie and Theodore in with us and all the streets made
                    themselves into lakes and rivers. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930329" type="Entry">
                <p><title>March 29th.</title></p>
                <p>Mr. Fielding has been staying for 2 or 3 days with some friends with whom he
                    stayed before he went up the river, the Wilfrid Blunts. They have a place at the
                    edge of the desert near Heliopolis. Mr. Blunt’s well known for certain
                    eccentricities - a poet - some people think the greatest in England. He affects
                    eastern culture, and has tried for some years to transform himself into an Arab
                    - has built an Arab house furnished in Arab style etc. He was once imprisoned in
                    England, for insurrectionary speeches to the Irish - and at another time, was
                    requested by Lord Cromer to remain out of Egypt for a year, because of his
                    sympathy in the Arab revolt. His wife is said to be very charming and gifted,
                    and an excellent Arab scholar. She is Lady Anne Blunt, daughter of the Earl of
                    Lovelace, and Ada, “sole daughter of my house”, the daughter of Lord Byron. They
                    have one child - a girl - I suspect Fielding of a tender interest there. We were
                    all invited out there one day - but thought it decent to decline as a party -
                    but I made Theodore go. He reported the place and the people quite delightful,
                    and out of the ordinary - and said Lady Anne was a sad-eyed woman, but the Page
                    119 most interesting he had ever met. Mr. Blunt breeds Arab horses - and they
                    are all great riders. Miss Judith Blunt performs the Arab fantasia - brandishing
                    the long pole, and managing her horse in Arab fashion. This morning we went to
                    the great mosque of Thulun - I think it the most impressive sight in Cairo -
                    then to the Gami el-Azhar - the famous college or university - with its great
                    courts, and groups of students - children and men - squatting about with their
                    books before them - some preparing food and others eating - some stretched out
                    at full length asleep - grave gray bearded men sitting on the ground, looking as
                    if they were filled with the mysterious wisdom of the East, and discoursing of
                    occult things. Then we went to the Gami el-Hakkim now almost in ruins, and made
                    into a kind of Arabian Museum. This afternoon we all went some on donkeys and
                    the rest in the carriage to the tombs of the Mamelukes, and saw those, and the
                    singular ones of the Vici Royal family. How strange they are in their curious
                    shapes, crowded together in their queer rooms, with Brussels carpets on the
                    floor, chintz curtains and covered divans and the sun looking cheerfully in
                    through the red curtained windows. One almost expects to come upon a tea table
                    with afternoon tea and cakes. Then we went up to the Citadel to the Mohamet Ali
                    Mosque - beautiful with that view of the great city in its wide extent, with the
                    glimmering Nile in the distance, and the distant form of the Pyramids. When we
                    got home Mr. Fielding and I went for some photographs, and then he proposed
                    going to the Ezbekieh Gardens for tea and to listen to the music - but we walked
                    from spot to spot - deciding one was too shaded - another too Page 120 near the
                    music etc. until we laughed and decided to go back to Shepheards garden, and
                    have tea there. But the fates were against us, we could find no one to bring tea
                    to the garden, so we were forced to go in and take it prosaically in our sitting
                    room as usual. We have only one more day in Cairo, for we go on Friday the 31st
                    to Alexandria, and take the P. &amp; O. Cathay for Naples.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930330" type="Entry">
                <p><title> March 30th.</title></p>
                <p>We are all packed and uncomfortable - ready for tomorrows start - with the
                    exception of Mr. Fielding who will of course do most of his packing after the
                    omnibus is driven to the door, with Jones to help - and all the servants - that
                    is the usual procedure. We have had daily visits from most of our men - who
                    generally station themselves across the street in the sunlight, and wait for
                    some recognition from the windows - then they come over, and up to see us -
                    faithful fellows - how we hate to leave them. One day on coming home, I found
                    Ali, the Reis’s boy waiting, and I brought him in and upstairs in the elevator
                    with me, to his excessive delight and astonishment. We have had 10 delightful
                    days here - and I have seen a great deal of Cairo - at first the wretched crowds
                    in the streets - the noise - the universal howling and shouting, oppress me, and
                    irritate me - then I grow used to it, and finally fascinated. In our daily
                    drives to the mosques and places of interest, what extraordinary quarters we
                    found, and what streets we passed through - such glimpses through open portals
                    of wonderful interiors - such facades - with their carved Mushrebeyahs, Page 121
                    or projecting windows of beautiful woodwork - the narrow streets over which
                    tower minarets and domes - how very fascinating and lovely it all is! </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930406" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Naples. West End Hotel. April 6. Thursday morning.</title></p>
                <p>We left Cairo on the morning of Good Friday, 31 March. We brought Mohammed Salah
                    to Alexandria and he took a tearful leave of us on the boat - we found the
                    Cathay very comfortable - had pleasant passengers, and a smooth voyage across,
                    arriving early on Tuesday morning. We left Theodore with Fielding and Jones to
                    do the Custom House, and drove to the Grand Hotel where we had written for rooms
                    - but they were crowded, and sent us here to their dépendence - which we find
                    pleasant enough for a few days. It was formerly the old “Nobili” where I stayed
                    years ago. On Tuesday afternoon all the rest went to Pompeii. Theodore and I
                    went to the bankers and to some shops and for a drive over the colle to
                    Posillipo - the wind very cold and strong, and the dust thick. Yesterday the
                    rest went to Vesuvius and came home late, tired and white with dust. Theodore
                    rested, and we took a drive and went to Capo de Monte, and through the large but
                    uninteresting palace, and drove through the grounds - then about Naples. It is
                    always so radiantly beautiful - where else can one see such grandeur of scenery,
                    with such beauty of colouring. We are going to Monte Casino tomorrow, en route
                    to Rome, to see the famous monastery. Fielding who has stayed there has written
                    to ask if we could stay a night Page 122 and a day there - I have always looked
                    at it with great curiosity, when passing it on the railway, away up on its airy
                    height. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930408" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Hotel du Quirinale Rome. April 8th.</title></p>
                <p>We were off from Naples yesterday at 9 o’clock in the morning, and reached
                    Cassino at 11:30. We found two little carriages waiting for us, and were
                    relieved to find that we would not, as Mr. Fielding thought, have to ride on
                    mules. We had arranged to take up only our bags and some rugs, so that if we
                    wished to spend the night we could. Jones went on to Rome with the luggage.
                    Since Mr. Fielding was here a very good road has been made up the mountain by
                    Government. We stopped a moment at the village to give the horses some water and
                    I took a lot of photographs, of the people from the carriage. The views as we
                    ascended were entrancing until as we got up to the level of the Monastery we
                    could see the world below us - the rich valley of the Garigliano and the bold
                    chain of the Abruzzi Mountains. After entering the walls, there is a short climb
                    to the gate of the monastery where we found a big burly brother, his face purple
                    with cold living and exposure, and who would hardly lift his eyes as Fielding
                    talked to him. Then the Prior whom Fielding addressed as “mon Père” came to
                    welcome us, a tall, spare dignified man, very shy with his French. We walked
                    about on the magnificent terrace, which is supported by the columns dividing
                    several courts below, affording wonderful views, and then into the church, rich
                    and splendid, built in 1727 on the site of Page 123 the one founded by St.
                    Benedict - whose remains with those of his sister St. Scholastica, lie beneath
                    the high altar. One of the large bronze doors of the church is inscribed with a
                    list inlaid in silver of the possessions of the Monastery in 1066. We were then
                    asked into a large bare room where a colazione was spread for us, which in our
                    famished state was very acceptable, and we were not critical. The prior had said
                    there was an American brother in the convent, whom he would send to us, and
                    after our lunch there appeared a stout, jolly brother, whose name was Julian,
                    and he proved to be a Pennsylvania dutchman, who did not speak the most polished
                    English. He seemed overjoyed to see us, and welcomed us most fraternally as
                    fellow Americans. This monastery of Monte Casino was founded by St. Benedict in
                    529 on the site of an ancient temple of Apollo. It now ranks as a “National
                    Monument” and belongs to the Government, but still exists as an educational
                    institution of theology. There are about 30 monks and some lay brethren - and
                    there are a telegraph office and printing office. Brother Julian proved to be an
                    instructor in Hebrew and Philosophy in the school and under his kind but rather
                    fussy care we went the rounds of the great courts and library - only we women
                    were not allowed to go everywhere. The library was impressive - and seemed the
                    very picture of a true mediaeval library - long and low and arched, with its
                    windows in the deep embrasures of the enormously thick walls. I almost expected
                    to see Romola and her white headed father there. These monks are the custodians
                    of one of the most precious libraries in the world. The stately handsome
                    manuscript rooms into which we next went, and where Page 124 we again met the
                    Prior, hide behind their inlaid doors a famous mass of MSS. and the Archives
                    hold a rare collection of documents - papal bulls - letters of emperors and
                    kings etc. We were shown beautiful volumes - splendidly illustrated. Mrs. Davis
                    and I with Fielding and Howard decided to stay over night - but Mr. Davis and
                    Nettie went on to Rome by the afternoon train. Mrs. Davis and I would not be
                    allowed of course to remain within the convent enclosure, so we went down to
                    have a look at the little guest house outside the gates - called St. Agatha’s
                    house - which though not luxurious was decently clean. Then Brother Julian
                    turned us into the monastery garden running along one great wing of the convent
                    - and we picked violets and daisies, and sat in the grass looking off into the
                    wide valleys so far below us - when suddenly one of the under brothers appeared
                    in breathless hurry to say we must come out at once, that no woman had ever been
                    allowed there before, and gave us the impression that the end of the world was
                    at hand, in consequence of our innocent transgression. So much disgruntled we
                    withdrew our dangerous persons - and Brother Julian soon reappearing we told
                    him. He seemed amused and perplexed by it - and in his simple, frank way,
                    excused them - but it was very plain to see, from a very broad and higher ground
                    - and I think the American brother disdained many of the restrictions and
                    traditions of the monastery. We walked about with him for awhile, and as the
                    convent gates closed at 6 o’clock, and Fielding and Howard had to be within them
                    at that hour, we said goodnight to Brother Julian, and the boys went down with
                    Annie and me to St. Agatha’s for a few minutes. The house was kept Page 125 by
                    an Italian peasant and his wife and daughter Marie - and being very hungry, we
                    watched with some interest the preparations of our evening meal. The little
                    table in the bare little room below was ready, but no supper arrived - when
                    finally the old man appeared from the convent with very bulging pockets, and
                    produced a loaf of dark bread from one, from another 4 eggs, which Marie took to
                    the kitchen to cook, and we had something called coffee - that was all. The
                    evening was dismal - and I went to bed at 9 o’clock, first hanging for a long
                    time out of my window in the soft fresh mountain air - in front of which between
                    the house and the edge of the cliff which fell sharply away, stood a tall young
                    pear tree in densest white bloom, tossing its shadowing arms about - while a
                    young crescent moon by the side of it made a decorative panel - and away down
                    the mountain side, the valley lay in a white mist. I was up at half past 5 the
                    next morning to see the dawn begin, and after dressing went down and sat in the
                    sun outside the house to get warm - and I photographed Marie, the pretty
                    daughter of the handsome old woman - and then the mother - and then a young
                    woman who happened along - and a charming young donkey who was running about
                    like a dog. After an impossible breakfast, which was a bad copy of the supper,
                    we walked up to the monastery and joined Fielding and Howard - and said goodbye
                    to the Prior and Brother Julian, and got into our little carriages, and
                    clattered down the mountain, stopping at a ruined castle, and an ancient temple,
                    and were soon on our way to Rome. Page 126 </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930419" type="Entry">
                <p><title>April 19th.</title></p>
                <p>This is the 11th day of our stay here, and tomorrow we are off to Florence. It
                    has not been very cheerful - for Theodore has been wretched, and for 2 days
                    really ill. He is never well in Rome - I always detest this Hotel du Quirinale
                    at which we are stopping: but we are fortunate to get good rooms anywhere, for
                    Rome is now full, and people crowding in for the celebration for the silver
                    wedding of the King and Queen of Italy. The German Emperor is coming tomorrow, I
                    wanted really to see this cocky, energetic young Emperor. The streets are ablaze
                    with colour and flags, and arches and tiers of temporary seats everywhere. It is
                    a triumph for the King, and serves to offset the prestige of the Pope, with all
                    the numerous pilgrimages which have been visiting Rome for weeks. Pope Leo XIII
                    may be a sweet and venerable old man - but all the same he is foolishly sulking
                    in his self-imposed martyrdom as a prisoner in the Vatican - and temporal power
                    seems a thing forever vanished from papal hands. I immediately fall under the
                    magical charm of everything in Rome, the moment I enter it - and though the
                    changes are many - the charm remains - I have seen most of my old haunts. And we
                    have had a great pleasure in seeing mediaeval art with fresh critical eyes - as
                    the promising young art critic Bernhard Berenson has been stopping with us for
                    two days. Theodore had been looking at a private art collection, the pictures of
                    which were rather mysteriously offered for sale by its owner. When happening to
                    mention it to Mr. Bliss, a friend of Fieldings, who has been for years the agent
                    or envoy or something of the English Gov. at Page 127 the Vatican, he suggested,
                    that from his knowledge of the Italians and their ways, he would advise Mr.
                    Davis if he thought of buying, to have them examined by an expert. “Where shall
                    I find one”, said Mr. Davis. Mr. Bliss advised writing to Mr. Berenson who was
                    then in Florence, and asking him to come down for a look at them saying he
                    probably knew as much if not more about Italian art than any man living. That he
                    was born in America of Russian parents - graduated from Harvard, then gone to
                    Oxford and Berlin and had made for years a special study of Italian art. So we
                    wrote him, and he came and we have been going about with him and seeing for the
                    first time with discerning eyes. For the first time I have seen the ravishing
                    sweetness of the frescoes of Melozzo da Forli, who was the pupil of Piero della
                    Francesca. These frescoes were painted in the dome of the church of S.S.
                    Apostole, and were removed when some alterations were made - and are now in the
                    Palazzo Quirinale, and the minor Sacristy of St. Peters, called the Stanza
                    Capitolare. They are the most delicious things - almost modern and impressionist
                    - and finely foreshortened. Melozzo was called the father of foreshortening. He
                    died young and left nothing so far as I can find out but these, and a painting
                    in the Vatican gallery, representing Sixtus IV and some cardinals. We had one
                    charming morning at St. Peters, Mr. Berenson and I, wandering around the great
                    church, talking of its history, of its builders, of its treasures, and finding
                    the iron gates of the chapel of the Holy Sacrament open, they generally being
                    closed, we went in to look at the beautiful and splendid tomb of Sixtus IV -
                    1484, built in bronze by Antonio Pollajuolo - brought from Page 128 the choir of
                    old St. Peters where it was erected by his uncle the great Julius II, whose own
                    tomb marked by a single slab lies near the more magnificent one of Sixtus IV.
                    Then we went to the Colonna Gallery, and looked at the few best pictures, among
                    them that splendid portrait of an unknown by Paul Veronese - a study in green.
                    Another morning Nettie and I, Howard and Mr. B. had a perfect morning among the
                    pictures at the Vatican, and then went on to the Doria, which we found closed
                    for the week of festivities, so we went rumbling home. In the afternoon we all
                    went to the Villa Borghese to see the Borghese collection transferred to the
                    Villa from the Palazzo - and again it was a great pleasure to see through eyes
                    more knowing and discriminating than ours. We met Mrs. Ledyard there, whom we
                    had missed in mutual visits. Mr. Berensen went back to Florence tonight. We have
                    seen a great deal of a brother of Fieldings, who is in a Seminary here, being
                    educated as a priest, Basil Fielding - quite unlike his brother in looks and
                    character. He too is charming - a big, pink and white young fellow, as full of
                    fun as can be. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930420" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Hotel de la Grande - Bretagne. Florence. April 20.</title></p>
                <p>The ride from Rome this morning was delicious. I have never seen Italy before in
                    such entire spring costume. The whole country is bitterly in need of rain, and
                    crops will be a serious failure if it does not come soon. Mr. Fielding had
                    engaged rooms for us at the New York Hotel, having left Rome 3 days before we
                    did. He had tried Page 129 for the rooms we wanted at every other hotel, without
                    success. But when we saw them we were so disgusted, we were in dismay; and
                    Theodore so tired and ill that he seemed to be quite helpless. So I begged him
                    to let me try to find others and he consented, though he felt it hopeless. So, I
                    took Howard, and getting into a cab, we came here, and found our present
                    delightful appartment had just been vacated; so we went immediately back to
                    report and by 5 o’clock were comfortably settled here. I have a sweet, cheerful
                    little yellow room, opening off the salon, with 2 big sunny windows, and we all
                    look out upon the river and although the Lung Arno is always noisy, it is always
                    bright and charming. We are between the Ponte Vecchio and the Trinita with the
                    picturesque line of opposite houses across the river, which everybody knows -
                    and the mellow church bells clang from San Spirito church near, and the lights
                    at night quiver on the river - and just now the new moon adds her pretty
                    crescent to the scene. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930421" type="Entry">
                <p><title>April 21.</title></p>
                <p>Mr. Berenson turned up according to appointment this morning, and we went first
                    to Santa Maria Novella, and walking over its pavement of tombstones, their
                    reliefs worn almost smooth, went to the Cappela Brancacci, at the end of the
                    right transept to see the Madonna long famous as a production of Cimabue’s
                    genius - but now denied as his as well as the pretty story of its loving welcome
                    to Florence. Then to the chapel of the Strozzi, the frescoes of which by
                    Fillippino Lippi of the story of the lives of S.S. Peter and John, have been
                    sadly Page 130 retouched and restored. In the chapel of the choir, we sat and
                    looked at the frescoes of Ghirlandajo - and in another chapel, at those of
                    heaven and hell by Orcagna (Andrea) where it was plain to see Michel Angelo got
                    his inspiration. Then we went through the cloisters, and Spanish Chapel. Then
                    Mr. Berenson took us to the Palazzo Martelli to see a lovely bust of St. John
                    the Baptist - and a statue of the same and the beautiful and spirited coat of
                    arms of the Martelli family - all by Donatello. In the afternoon Nettie and I
                    drove out to San Miniato with Theodore and Nettie was in raptures over it - the
                    first thing of the kind she had seen. The old niello pavement, and the quaint
                    marble work of the screen, are so good. Just after we got home, Mr. Fielding
                    with his mother Lady Denbigh came to see us - she a tall, sweet, sad faced
                    woman, in deep black - with a charming voice. Fielding and his sister Lady Clare
                    paid us a visit last evening. Mr. Berenson came to dine and a note from Mrs.
                    Berenson asking us to dine the next evening. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930422" type="Entry">
                <p><title>April 22.</title></p>
                <p>We started out with Mr. Berenson at 10 o’clock this morning, and went to Santa
                    Croce and looked at the frescoes - especially those of Giotto in the Capella
                    Peruzzi. Among those splendid tombs none are sosstriking [sic; so striking] and
                    beautiful as that of Marsuppini by Desidero de Lettiguano. Afterwards we went to
                    the cloisters, and the little Pazzi chapel then to the Duomo, where we paused
                    long before the beautiful gates in bronze by Luca della Robbia, at the entrance
                    to the sacristy Nuova. Page 131 Then we crossed to the Baptistry, and then home.
                    In the afternoon Theodore and I took a long drive in the Cascine - and going
                    quite to the end, we got out and walked through the quiet, deserted avenues.
                    Then home in time for dressing, and driving out to the Berenson’s who occupy a
                    beautiful appartment on the Cascine square. We met only Mrs. Baldwin, and Sir
                    John Wood, a rather dull affair. Came home in time to drive through the streets,
                    and see the illumination in honour of the Royal Silver Wedding. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930423" type="Entry">
                <p><title>April 23.</title></p>
                <p>A morning in the Pitti with Mr. Berenson when we saw the pictures with larger,
                    other eyes than our own. In the afternoon rest, and Fielding and his sister Lady
                    Clare to dinner. Dr. Baldwin called. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930424" type="Entry">
                <p><title>April 24.</title></p>
                <p>To the Uffizi this morning - and a delightful two hours with the pictures -
                    coming home more dead than alive, with fatigue. Mr. Berenson stopped to lunch.
                    Howard, Theodore and I went out in the afternoon but could not do much, as a
                    heavy shower came up. Theodore went to see Lady Denbigh. Nettie in the house
                    with a bad throat. Dr. Baldwin again. He has been taking a general look over
                    Theodore, who feels much better. A mild epidemic of influenza prevails here.
                    Page 132 </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930425" type="Entry">
                <p><title>April 25th.</title></p>
                <p>To the Belli-Arti this morning, where we met Lady Denbigh and Fielding and after
                    an hour, spent principally with the Boticelli’s Mr. Berenson had told us that
                    the three Archangels with the young Tobias, was not a Boticelli - so we looked
                    at it critically, half resenting the disallusion. It certainly lacks Boticelli’s
                    colour but the spirit and action of the figures, seem certainly his. In the
                    afternoon Theodore took Lady Denbigh for the drive over the hills to the
                    restored castle of the Englishman, Mr. Temple Leader - and Mrs. Davis, Howard
                    and I went over the same road half an hour in advance of them. The castle struck
                    me as being very melodramatic - but the views were lovely. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930426" type="Entry">
                <p><title>April 26th.</title></p>
                <p>Theodore and I went this morning to see the collection at the Bordini Palace - a
                    great many curious and delightful things - especially in marble of exquisite
                    Italian decoration. Theodore fancies immensely a piece of tapestry, which he
                    thinks will go in the large space of the upper hall - but I am quite sure it is
                    too large. In the afternoon he took Lady Clare to drive, and Nettie being
                    unfortunately still condemned to the house with her bad throat, Howard and I
                    went to La Badia and San Lorenzo - and failed getting in to the beautiful Or San
                    Michele. Theodore went to dine with Lady Denbigh. We declined but Howard Nettie
                    and I went up in a closed carriage in the evening and paid a visit. They are
                    living in pension but having Page 133 a charming sitting room, radiant with
                    flowers. Lady Denbigh has a sweet, motherly air, that is very taking - Lady
                    Herbert of Lea, a great friend of theirs was there - quite the English novel
                    dowager - who made herself very agreeable. Fielding had spoken of her as an
                    “archbishop in petticoats”. We all arranged to go to the Bardini palace tomorrow
                    morning. The night air is warm and delicious from the rain of today. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930427" type="Entry">
                <p><title>April 27.</title></p>
                <p>To the Bardini this morning - Lady Herbert came to go with us. She bemoaned all
                    the time the things she saw that had once belonged to churches and convents -
                    and I am sure she found some of Theodore’s remarks quite horrifying. Theodore
                    took the tapestry. Came home in the rain. In the afternoon Theodore, Howard and
                    I drove to the Cascine - they got out to walk, while I drove round and round.
                    Everything dripping with moisture, and the shaded avenues fairly black so dark
                    was the afternoon. A thousand sweet scents in the air - we asked the Bronsons to
                    dine tonight, but Mrs. B. had a bad cold and could not come. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930428" type="Entry">
                <p><title>April 28.</title></p>
                <p>Howard and I went to the Opera del Duomo - and then did a little shopping. It
                    rained all day. In the afternoon we went to tea at Mrs. Bronsons, taking Mr.
                    Fielding with us. It poured with rain while we were there - met two or three
                    pleasant people. Fielding and Page 134 Lady Clare came to dinner - and Dr.
                    Baldwin came in to say goodbye. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930430" type="Entry">
                <p><title>April 30. 4th Sunday after Easter.Venice. Grand Hotel.</title></p>
                <p>After a hurried morning yesterday, spent in seeing as much as we could of beloved
                    Florence, we left at 2:30 - reaching here at 10 P.M. The ride was charming, in
                    the midst of so much luxurious spring vegetation. The vineyards so pretty, with
                    the vines suspended from tree to tree - the young leaves well grown, making
                    garlands from one end to the other. The entrance to Venice most opportune, on a
                    cloudless night with a full moon - over which Nettie and Howard were in
                    raptures. We have big rooms on the 3d floor of this big house - Nettie and I
                    together occupy one vast appartment - our little beds miles apart - and our
                    balcony overhangs the Grand Canal. This morning we went of course immediately to
                    the Piazza San Marco - and then to the church - and afterwards along the Grand
                    Canal - and again in the afternoon we went roaming in gondolas, in that
                    delightful fashion common to Venice. The first time I saw Venice it was wrapped
                    in snow, the next, it was drenched in rain. Now it is quite perfect - a bright
                    sun by day, and a radiant moon by night. The little bits of garden that show
                    over the walls or through open portals, or great iron gates, make such perfect
                    little touches. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930501" type="Entry">
                <p><title>May 1st.</title></p>
                <p>We all went down to the Piazza San Marco this morning, and wandered Page 135
                    about, before we went into the church. A magnificent funeral cortège appeared at
                    the further end of the square; and the rich robes of the priests, the banner and
                    canopies, the array of candles, the brilliant colours, made it like some of the
                    old paintings one sees of the piazza. It made a great spectacle too in the
                    church, and especially from the galleries, where we went. Mrs. Davis and Howard
                    grew tired and went away - while Theodore, Nettie and I lingered over every
                    detail - fairly caressing some of those mellow and time worn ornamental
                    surfaces. There have been many restorations - chiefly in the pavement - which
                    look questionable - however necessary they might have been. Their exact level
                    and accurate outlines seem so inartistic, in comparison with the rich old
                    marbles and irregular surfaces. The strange undulating surface of the pavement
                    with its beautiful Alexandrian work is always such a delightful feature. We then
                    went to the church of San Salvatore, where is an Annunciation by Titian painted
                    in his 89th year - angels and clouds above, the Madonna with a look of glad
                    surprise, and the Angel of Annunciation to the left, with the rush of descent
                    still in his bearing - a grand thing - but little light to see it by. From there
                    we went to S. Giovanni Crisostomo, where is a great picture of Giovanni Bellini
                    of S.S. Jerome, Cristopher and Augustine finished in 1513, in his 87th year, it
                    had all Bellini’s beauty of colour, and a most sweet religious sentiment. In the
                    same church is a painting above the high altar of Sebastian del Piombo of SS
                    Crisostom, John, Augustine, Liberali, Catherine, Agnes and Magdalen. The faces
                    of the women and the colouring fine - painted under the influence of Giorgione.
                    Page 136 In the afternoon, Nettie and I went to the S. Zacharia, a church not
                    far from the Riva dei Schiavoni - with a beautiful renaissance façade, and a
                    madonna enthroned with four saints by Giovanni Bellini - and the nativity of
                    John the Baptist by Tintoretto over the door of the sacristy. The charm of going
                    about Venice, threading one’s way through one little canal after another, with
                    charms and surprises at every turn - then, perhaps stopping at a little flight
                    of steps, as we did at S. Zaccaria, walking through an arch, or a narrow calle
                    or alley, into a quiet little campo, is truly enchanting. But it takes time to
                    get about in this way, and after we had gone to S. Maria Formosa to see Palma
                    Vecchio’s magnificent Barbara, it was time to come home. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930502" type="Entry">
                <p><title>May 2d.</title></p>
                <p>Theodore, Nettie and I put in the whole morning at the Academia, and came home to
                    lunch in a limp condition. Mr. Berenson had marked our books for us, telling us
                    what was most worth seeing, which was a great boon, as our time is so short. We
                    first looked at a Madonna and child by Giov. Bellini - and another Madonna with
                    St. Catherine and a Magdalen; remarkable for the beauty in the faces of the
                    women. And still another Madonna with S.S. Paul and George - and another Madonna
                    enthroned with SS. Francis, Job, John, Sebastian, Dominic and Louis, with 3
                    angels on the steps of the throne, playing on instruments - a lovely composition
                    - Then, at some pictures by Cima da Conegliano, an artist about whom I was
                    wofully ignorant - a Madonna with John the Baptist, and St. Paul - another
                    Madonna with Page 137 saints - and the angel Raphael with Tobias between the
                    Baptist and St. Nicholas. An exquisite painting of the Madonna and Saints by
                    Boccacino da Cremona. Naval battle with saints in the clouds and a Madonna and
                    Saints by Paola Veronese. The Presenation in the temple by Titian, a gorgeous
                    mass of lovely color - his St. John in the Wilderness - his Entombment, painted
                    in his 99th year it is said, and which indeed he left unfinished - and his
                    wonderful assumption, which seems to me a far greater work than Raphael’s
                    Transfiguration. Fishermen presenting the Doge with the ring received from St.
                    Mark, by Paris Bordone. Banquet of Dives [sic; Divas] - Massacre of the
                    Innocents, Solomon’s Judgement, by Bonifacio. Madonna and child and four
                    senators - Death of Abel - Two Senators and St. Mark releasing a condemned
                    slave, by Tintoretto. Cure of a Lunatic, with the Rialto bridge in the
                    background - colour- perspective - architectural effects, and quaint detail.
                    Presentation in the Temple - and the nine scenes from the fascinating legend of
                    St. Ursula, painted for the school of that name in Venice, charmingly quaint and
                    interesting by Carpaccio. Peter enthroned with other saints and the Assumption
                    by Ralma Vecchio. The St. George of A. Mantegna, a small picture and very
                    exquisite. Five delightful little cabinet pictures, Allegories, by Giov. Bellini
                    - and the very interesting large picture of Gentile Bellini’s. The finding of a
                    portion of the true Cross - and The Procession in the Piazza of St. Marks - from
                    its minute detail, it shows the changes which have taken place since 1496, when
                    the picture was painted. In the afternoon we went to the Church of the Madonna
                    del Orto, where is a picture Page 138 of St. John the Baptist, with St. Peter,
                    Mark, Jerome and Paul by Cima da Conegliano - and Tintoretto’s Last Judgement,
                    and Adoration of the Golden Calf, and Presentation in the Temple. Then we went
                    to S. Maria dei Miracoli, a beautiful, small, early Renaissance church, with
                    fine marbles and good decorations, where the most interesting thing was the old
                    Sacristan who was so in love with his church and all his things, and so eager to
                    show us the few little treasures it possessed, that he took us into the damp,
                    dark little sacristy, and pulled out various drawers, to show us some poor and
                    much worn ceremonial vestments. I wondered what he would have said to the
                    beautiful one hidden away in my trunk! Nettie and I then went to S. Giovanni in
                    Bragora, where is a beautiful Baptism of Christ by Cima da Conegliano lovely
                    light - colour - water - distance. Two Saints by the same - and a Resurrection
                    by L. Vivarini - very fine - two upturned faces of angels. Then we went to that
                    little gem of a church, S. Giorgio degli Schiavoni, a small renaissance church,
                    with the well known pictures of Vittoria Carpaccio of the legends of St. George
                    and St. Jerome - about which Ruskin has written such pleasant nonsense in his
                    “Shrine of the Slaves”. These pictures have all Carpaccio’s soft colour, and
                    good painting, and crude conceits. And the little square church, hardly larger
                    than an ordinary sitting room, wainscoted with dark wood to the level on the
                    narrow pictures, with the dark, low, ribbed ceiling, the beams gilded - and the
                    two broad windows with their red curtains, with the sun shining brightly in,
                    made such a cheerful interior, that we said we felt like having afternoon tea
                    there, and bringing our work! Page 139 and books. Up the short flight of stairs
                    into the second church or oratory, where the ceiling was still lower, and
                    painted by Palma Vecchio and there were more low windows, with the sun streaming
                    brightly in, the effect was even more domestic. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930503" type="Entry">
                <p><title>May 3rd.</title></p>
                <p>We said so much about the little S. Giorgio Church when we went home, that
                    Theodore was moved to go himself and he and I and Annie went this morning, and I
                    was even more charmed. Afterwards Theodore, Nettie and I went to S. Maria della
                    Salute and saw in the sacristy, and saw Titian’s St. Mark and four Saints - and
                    his Cain and Abel, Abraham and Isaac, David and Goliath. The day was cloudy, and
                    the light very bad. Tolerable light on Tintoretto’s splendid Marriage of Cana.
                    Then we went into the Seminaris Patriarcale, and saw a small collection of
                    pictures - among them Giogioni’s Apollo and Daphne. The building was
                    interesting. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930504" type="Entry">
                <p><title>May 4th.</title></p>
                <p>Theodore, Nettie and I went on a delightful little excursion this afternoon. Mr.
                    Berenson had given Theodore a card of introduction to a Count Nardi - living at
                    Mira, some distance from Venice - who had some good pictures, one of which he
                    thought Theodore could buy. We took an interpreter, as we had been told none of
                    these people could speak French or English. We had an early lunch, and got into
                    a clean little steamer that carried us in half an hour to Fusana, where we took
                    Page 140 a little steam train, several miles to Mira. We found the house but a
                    short distance from the station. Such extraordinary little monstrosities
                    ornamented each side of the short avenue leading to the house, standing on
                    pedestals two feet high, themselves hardly higher, short, misshapen grotesques
                    of men and women, once evidently highly coloured. The Count Nardi, was not at
                    home, but we were asked in by a nice old crone - and found most of the house
                    empty, and at our service. There were quantities of pictures in the broad hall,
                    that led straight through the house, above and below - one or two bearing the
                    name Tiziano, and other talismanic names. But the special picture we wanted to
                    see was in the bedroom of a guest who was taking his siesta - and the old
                    servant who talked loud enough at other times, lowered her voice so respectfully
                    when she spoke of it, that we knew him to be an honoured guest, and not to be
                    disturbed for curious Americans - and as the picture was valued at a fabulous
                    price, by its owner, we were not desolated but gave a franc to the old woman,
                    and came away. Outside the gate we found the little carriage and its good
                    natured looking driver, whom we had declined at the railway station, patiently
                    waiting for his prey, and having three hours or more on our hands before we
                    could take the train back to Venice, decided that we would drive on to Dolo. The
                    afternoon was quite perfect, warm and bright - the whole country fresh from last
                    nights rain, in perfect spring beauty - the larks were singing - fields bright
                    with flowers - the poppies showing their brilliant heads among the corn - the
                    ditches by the roadside full of water lilies, and tall yellow irises - and the
                    smooth level little Page 141 road led along the bank of the little river Brenta
                    which is really a canal, and past country houses on either side of the river,
                    more or less grand, with beautiful shrubberies and quaint Italian gardens - and
                    one succeeded another like pictures in a dream, until we came to the great walls
                    of an immense park, which we were told was a Royal park or palace, once the
                    property of the Pisani family - now a National Museum. It is called Stra. We
                    were told we could go in, and we drove through the great gateway, and get out of
                    the carriage at the grand portal, where if it had not been for the guard, and an
                    old paralytic sitting in an easy chair, we might have supposed we had reached
                    the Enchanted palace. We saw no one else - and up the very grand staircase we
                    went, and through room after room - reception rooms - bedrooms - great ball
                    rooms and salons and stately corridors - all deserted, but ready, until I half
                    expected to come upon the Sleeping Beauty. Rooms once occupied by Victor
                    Emmanuel, in one of which he signed the armistice between Italy and Austria.
                    Others in which the great Napoleon lived - his bedroom quite magnificent - the
                    big bed all gold and white satin with a big N at the top - even the mattresses
                    covered with rich white silk. From every window, lovely glimpses of the grounds
                    and trees, down to which we afterwards went, and walked through one or two of
                    the stately avenues, and took a peep into the ornamental gardens, which had
                    vanishing lines of great orange trees in huge ornamental pots - and geometrical
                    bed of flowers - and stretches of glass - and miles of walled fruits. The part
                    itself seemed a paradise, with its stretches of wide lawns and stately trees.
                    Then feeling hungry, we drove into the quaint little Page 142 town, and into the
                    courtyard of a clean little Osteria, and entered the principal room, low and
                    long, with one end devoted to the kitchen, with its simple stone range and its
                    bright array of copper pans and pots. Over the little fire burning at the end of
                    a large bunch of faggots a woman was roasting coffee in a simple and effective
                    way. A large iron ball with a long handle, which she twirled constantly. We had
                    an excellent colazione, bread, cheese, butter and a delicious native wine, all
                    for 2 and a half francs. While we were eating it, three men came in and ordered
                    supper - and we saw Father, Mother and daughter cooking it. The walls of the
                    room were decorated with coloured prints - and a shrine before which burned a
                    lamp - and curious little mottoes, framed and hung about, some of which I
                    copied. Vinci amico mio, A fa credenza Mangia, beve e godi E un errora Ma non
                    piantar Si perde el Denaro Di chiadi E la ventore. La luna senza sol Non
                    resplendi Il vin senza dinar Non si vendi. Afterwards we had a drive of 3 miles
                    to the station, and were home again by 7 o’clock. After dinner went to call on
                    the Farrers. Old Sir William looking aged and feeble - the two girls in deep
                    black for their mother - very nice girls. We are off tomorrow for Milan, early.
                    We have had perfect weather during our stay - and resplendent moonlight Page 143
                    nights. The grand Canal in front of the hotel has been filled every evening with
                    gondolas - and much music. We have been out on the water almost every evening -
                    and what more delicious than to lie in a gondola with those perfect surroundings
                    and listen to the dip of the oars in the silvered waters! </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930506" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Milan. 6 May. Hotel Cavour.</title></p>
                <p>Such a charming journey from Venice yesterday through the rich green country and
                    past picturesque towns, arriving at this very pleasant and comfortable hotel,
                    where, in our pleasant sitting room, we found a sumptuous lunch waiting for us.
                    Later we went out to see the Cathedral and to take a drive; but the really hot
                    morning had changed - the clouds were big and black, and the wind blowing in
                    such gusts that after leaving the Cathedral and trying a short drive, we gave it
                    up and walked in the Arcade. Mr. Fielding arrived from Florence in the evening.
                    This morning soon after breakfast we all, except Mrs. Davis, armed ourselves
                    with our guide books and glasses, and went to the Brera, where we spent two
                    hours looking only at the pictures Mr. Berenson had marked for us, and which
                    formed the cream of the whole gallery. We saw the Madonna enthroned with angels
                    and saints by Bart. Montagna - then Gentile Bellini’s Preaching of St. Mark at
                    Alexandria. Piero della Francesca’s Madonna and Saints with Duke Federigo
                    Montefeltro. C.Crivelli’s Christ on the Cross - Madonna and Saints - Madonna and
                    Child - the latter most charming in its Pgae 144 beautiful coloring and quaint
                    accessories - Giov. Bellini’s Madonna - the Madonna with the Greek inscription -
                    and a Pieta - the last most tender and impassioned - the Madonna holding the
                    Christ in her arms, and pressing her face to his - you can feel the tender
                    support of her arms, and the suffering sympathy of her glance, as she gazes into
                    the pale face - the tones of the picture sad and subdued - the pale sky with
                    flat lines of cloud. Bonifazio, the Elder’s Finding of Moses in the Bulrushes -
                    a lovely thing in colour and figures. Paola Veronese’s SS. Anthony, Abbas,
                    Cornelius and Cyprian. Mantegna’s Pieta, the Madonna in a nimbus of angels
                    heads. Saints by Cima da Conagliano. Three superb portraits by Lorenzo Lotto and
                    the famous Sposalizio of Raphael - one of the sweetest and saintliest pictures
                    in the world. Then we went to the Museo Poldi-Pezzoli - the collection house,
                    bric-a-brac, furniture, pictures in most charming taste, made up of most
                    precious and valuable things, and given by the owner at his death to the town. A
                    sweet Boticelli - Christ and St. Francis by Crivelli. Ecco Homo by A. Solario,
                    and Flight into Egypt - and the exquisite portrait of a lady generally
                    attributed to Piero della Francesca but which Mr. Berenson says is not his. In
                    the afternoon Nettie Howard and I, with Jones rushed off directly after luncheon
                    to see the churches of S. Ambrosio, S. Maria presso S. Celso, at the last we saw
                    a lovely Bergognone, Madonna and Child, with St. John the Baptist - and a sweet
                    Sassoferato. Nettie taking Jones, then went to look for photographs, and to the
                    roof of the Cathedral - while Theodore and I, Howard and Annie started in 2
                    carriages for the drive to Monza the Royal Park Page 145 which was very
                    beautiful after we reached it, but the drive to which was long, dull and
                    commonplace - the cold wind driving the dust in our eyes and ears - we were glad
                    enough to get indoors again. We leave early tomorrow for Luserne. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930508" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Lucerne. 8 May. Hotel National.</title></p>
                <p>Left Milan Sunday morning - and had a beautiful day crossing that wonderful St.
                    Gotthard pass, until we got well on the other side, where we found clouds and
                    mist - and Lucerne quite damp and wet from recent rain. I have never before been
                    to this hotel - and think it more delightful than the Schweizerhof - which I
                    know so well. It is just on the border of the Lake, and very quiet, and a most
                    excellent house. Our big sitting room and bed rooms look out on the Lake and we
                    have had a fire both today and last evening. We walked this morning to see the
                    Great Lion of Thorwaldean - and to the old bridges - visited our friend the
                    antiquarian Bossard - and after lunch Nettie, Howard and I poked about among the
                    shops, they being quite new to the charms of carved wood ornaments, and other
                    Swiss fantacies which become after a visit or two, so hateful. Then we had an
                    organ concert at the Cathedral and Nettie and I walked about that cheerful
                    little burying ground. All day the clouds have hung low, and the mists have
                    obscured the mountains and the cold wind has blown. We will spend tomorrow night
                    at Basle, en route to Paris. Page 146 </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930514" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Paris - 14 May. Hotel Westminster. Sunday after Ascension.</title></p>
                <p>We left Lucerne on the afternoon of the 9th. After breakfast that morning
                    Theodore and Fielding went for a long tramp - the rest of us took 2 carriages
                    and went first to my old haunt the “Drei Linden”, where I used to go and walk
                    with Annie and Col. Frendenberg and the Collins - but now how changed! Ever
                    since the last time we were there 5 years ago, with Charlie and Nellie Wilson it
                    is very changed. The pleasant climb up the steep meadows, and the walk along the
                    edge of the hill, with the three great Lindens standing there. These are now the
                    only things to mark the spot - roads having been cut, lots laid off, and staring
                    new villas built - so we turned away disgusted and went to drive through the
                    lovely blossoming country. The meadows all about Lucerne are filled with the
                    most graceful trees - they are like well kept parks - the ground was brilliant
                    with flowers and the quaint Swiss houses, with their gardens and Archives,
                    delighted Nettie. We got home just in time for lunch, and were off immediately
                    after to the station - reached Basle after a lovely ride at 5 o’clock - and
                    walked about awhile before dinner. The Trois Rois where we stopped looked very
                    familiar. the next morning we left at 9 o’clock for Paris - that long ride
                    seemed less tiresome than usual - we had a comfortable compartment, and the
                    country was in such full spring beauty. We went to the Chatham - but did not
                    like our rooms, and came here, where we have a charming appartment quite to
                    ourselves - and every thing most convenient and luxurious. We plunged of course
                    at once into the vortex of shopping, and it seems just Page 147 now as if we
                    would never be able to extricate ourselves. This morning was so fresh and warm,
                    that Theodore proposed that Nettie, I and Mr. Fielding should drive with him to
                    the Bois, and have lunch there - which we did after having spent an hour or so
                    at the Louvre. We drove to the Café du Pavillion, where we had a delicious lunch
                    under the trees, with an Hungarian band playing near. We afterwards drove about
                    the park, which was filled with people and carriages hurrying to the Longchamps
                    races. There were too many people, in fact. Yet it is always pleasant to see the
                    natural naive way in which the french enjoy themselves - such numbers everywhere
                    - sitting or lying about on the grass, or sitting in chairs - or walking.
                    Mothers, nurses, babies, fathers with newspapers and books - or playing games -
                    all manners of simple innocent enjoyments. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930524" type="Entry">
                <p><title>May 24.</title></p>
                <p>We are quite ready to leave for London tomorrow. Our fortnight here has been a
                    very busy one - and out of it we have lost 4 working days - that is 2 Sundays
                    and 2 fête days - and we have been on a rush all the time. It has rained much of
                    the time. Last Saturday we went out to Fontainbleau returning on Monday morning.
                    It rained most of the time we were there - though we did manage a drive through
                    the superb beech forests on Sunday morning. Page 148 </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930528" type="Entry">
                <p><title>London. 28 May. Trinity Sunday. Albemarle Hotel. Piccadilly.</title></p>
                <p>We crossed last Thursday from Boulogne to Folkestone on a beautiful day - and
                    arrived here at 7 P.M. A comfortable hotel, though not as good as Longs or the
                    Bristol. The weather is good - too good for the welfare of the country - for
                    everywhere the fields are drying up - and the crops looking very thin and
                    starved. This morning Nettie, Theodore and I went down to St. Pauls - but found
                    a long ordination service going on, and after hearing a little most beautiful
                    music, we came out, and walked about the streets coming upon a quaint little
                    church, into which we went, and found a delightful service just beginning. The
                    church was that of St. Nicholas Cole - Abbey - a small square renaissance
                    structure, with curious tablets and memorial stones upon the walls. The choir
                    screen was very good - and it was beautifully decorated with vines, red cannas,
                    and pink and white cyclamens. The organ was splendidly played, but was a little
                    too big for the church - much beautiful music was sung - Gounod’s Messe, among
                    other things - and the choir composed about a third of the congregation. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930529" type="Entry">
                <p><title>May 29.</title></p>
                <p>We went by appointment this morning to Westminster Abbey and met Mary Parsons,
                    and Mr. and Mrs. Cheston, and Mrs. Messer, a cousin of Marys, and daughter of
                    our old Bishop McIllvaine of Ohio. I used to know her long, long ago as Naine
                    McIllvaine. She married an Englishman years ago, who was no good - with not even
                    a good social position - Page 149 she has been a widow for some years with 2
                    girls and a boy. She is very familiar with the Abbey and all its dignitaries and
                    acted as our guide. We went before we came away into the Triforium - and we also
                    saw the extraordinary wax effigies, which have not until lately been shown to
                    the public. Queen Elizabeth, Charles II, William III and Mary, Queen Anne,
                    William Pitt, Earl of Chatham and Lord Wilson - remarkable things - clothed with
                    the clothes worn in life, and were used in the funerals of those buried in the
                    Abbey. Coming away very late we saw the Prince of Wales and his suite going in
                    gorgeous state carriages to hold a levee at St. James Palace. In the afternoon
                    we went to leave cards on the Lidderdales, Rathbones, and Miss Lüling. It poured
                    with rain all the time. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930601" type="Entry">
                <p><title>June 1st.</title></p>
                <p>Shopping and sightseeing are keeping us busy. Last evening Theodore, Nettie and I
                    went to the opera, and heard the new play Pagliacci, with which we were greatly
                    disappointed. I had never seen Convent [sic; Covent] Garden Opera House before,
                    and in spite of all I had heard in its disfavor I was amazed at its ugliness,
                    bareness and discomfort. I spent one afternoon at the National Gallery - the
                    most delightful gallery in the world - so many great masterpieces and no trash -
                    the different rooms so well arranged, and comfortable seats about everywhere. We
                    spent our time in the two rooms devoted to Dutch art - and what a beautiful art
                    it is! We have seen several of the attractive art stores - and this morning we
                    went early to Christies Page 150 to see the Baring sale of pictures - a great
                    crowd - and the street thronged with carriages. June 3. Theodore and I went this
                    morning to William Morris’ place in Oxford St. to look at rugs and stuffs. We
                    found enchanting things of all kinds - a beautiful rug amongst them, which
                    Theodore will take I think, for the dining room. Last evening Gaspard Farrer
                    dined with us. Tomorrow, Theodore, Nettie and I are going down in the country to
                    Hothorpe, the place of the de Traffords - Lady Agness de Trafford is Fieldings
                    sister - and this afternoon we all went by invitation from Lord Denbigh to the
                    House of Lords. He was waiting for us at the entrance and most kindly and good
                    naturedly took us about everywhere. It was immensely interesting - as some
                    skirmishing was going on, on the Irish question - it was thought that Lord
                    Salisbury would speak - but he didn’t. The Conservative benches were very full -
                    but those of the Liberal Unionists were almost empty. Lord Zetland, a
                    conservative, opened the debate, and was followed by Earl Spencer on the other
                    side, who made an awkward hesitating attempt for a weak cause. We had to come
                    away just after Lord Waterford began in a clear and forcible way to demolish
                    Lord Spencer - I was sorry to come away, but we had to dine with the Lidderdales
                    who live at Kensington. Yesterday for the first time we met Lord Denbigh. Lady
                    Denbigh called soon after we arrived, and had written asking us to tea in the
                    afternoon. We found her quite charming, and Lord Denbigh very nice in his own
                    way, but very Page 151 different from Fielding. Their house, 2 Cromwell Houses,
                    is all in disorder and filled with work people. They are awfully hard up, poor
                    things, and this house as well as Newnham Paddox is for rent. We stopped on the
                    way with Fielding at the Brompton Oratory - and heard some beautiful music - the
                    large church crowded with a very good looking congregation. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930604" type="Entry">
                <p><title>Hothorpe Hall. Theddingworth - Rugby. June 4. Sunday evening.</title></p>
                <p>Mrs. Davis with Howard and Fielding went yesterday morning to see the trooping of
                    the Queen’s colours - they represented it quite a spectacle. Mr. and Lady Agnes
                    de Trafford came to lunch, and at 4 o’clock, Nettie, Theodore and I met them at
                    the Euston St. Station with Fielding, and we came out here, changing cars at
                    Rugby, where we had time for a cup of tea. We got out at Theddingworth - a
                    pretty little spot, and found a waggonette and servants with a little pony cart
                    for the luggage, waiting for us. A short time along a lovely road with great
                    trees and a thorn hedge, which Theodore and Fielding preferred walking, brought
                    us to the gates, and another little drive to the house, comfortable and
                    unpretentious, with grass terraces and chapel and conservatory, exquisite views
                    over the park with it elms and oaks - we had big rooms, all chintz and comfort -
                    and such charming views from the windows, the park lying in the evening light,
                    the image of quiet peaceful beauty. A handsome dinner - flowers and gold service
                    in a big dining room and music, and some rather slow conversa Page 152 tion in
                    the evening - and at 11 o’clock Nettie and I gladly took our candle sticks and
                    came up to our rooms; Theodore, Fielding and Mr. de Trafford at a game of
                    billiards. This morning I could hardly dress myself for looking out of the
                    windows, at the sheep lying in the shade of the trees, and the cattle in their
                    paddocks browsing on the green green grass. After a delicious, substantial
                    English breakfast, Lady Agnes took me to the chapel, built by Mr. de Trafford to
                    the memory of a brother, and presently Mr. de Trafford and Fielding came in. The
                    chapel was small - in the Romanesque style - in excellent taste, and all the
                    details well executed, the stained glass especially good in design and colour -
                    the altar very good, and the Confessional richly carved. These three young
                    people took such pleasure in it, and showed such reverence. They made many
                    excuses then, and went off to mass at the neighboring estate of Bosworths - and
                    Theodore and I roamed about gazing at the scenery - and the great stretches of
                    park lands - such superb trees - such softness and richness. Then Nettie joined
                    us and I took them into the chapel, and then we walked down through the park as
                    Mr. de Trafford had suggested, and crossed the little river, and out through the
                    lodge gates into the public road, down to the village, where we found a typical
                    English church and churchyard - gray with age and covered with ivy. We found an
                    interesting interior - part of the church belonging to the Norman period - with
                    quaint old font, and inlaid pulpit. The service had begun, and including
                    ourselves there must have been 20 in the congregation. I should have liked
                    staying after service and looking about, but the church was very cold and Page
                    153 damp and Theodore complaining of the chill, we contented ourselves with
                    walking about the churchyard, and back to the Hall through the lanes in the warm
                    still air, with the bees humming and the birds singing - Nettie was so charmed
                    with the village and the cottages with their thatched roofs and bright flowers
                    and their little front gardens and they are charming. The clouds were so
                    threatening we hurried - but the storm did not burst until after luncheon when
                    we were out seeing the stables - and we had to wait sometime there, as it hailed
                    smartly - and left the air beautifully clear and cool. In the evening Nettie
                    sang for us, and Fielding played, and I am writing my book up to date, writing
                    very late. We said goodbye as well as goodnight to Mr. de Trafford as he goes
                    away early in the morning to a cricket match. He is a great cricketer - and
                    hunter. He has 7 hunters in loose boxes in his stables. He is the 2d son of Sir
                    Humphrey de Trafford of Trafford Hall near Manchester - who gave him this estate
                    of a 1000 acres 10 years ago, and he has lived here since and last autumn
                    married Lady Agnes Fielding. They seem most frankly in love with each other and
                    before their marriage, he built a sitting room with bedroom above for her - the
                    sitting room with their initials turned in the woodwork. We leave tomorrow
                    morning - going over to Newnham Paddox for lunch. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930606" type="Entry">
                <p><title>London. 6 June.</title></p>
                <p>We left Hothorpe yesterday soon after breakfast, Lady Agnes and Mr. Fielding with
                    us, in a waggonette with a pair of fine horses, and a big hamper, for a drive of
                    13 miles to Newnham Paddox, the Denbigh Page 154 estate. The scenery was
                    delicious the tall hedges gay with dog roses like our wild roses, but taller and
                    less compact in manner of growth. When we entered the park at Newnham, it was
                    enchanting - splendid trees everywhere - the gates are quite magnificent and
                    fine specimens of iron work - the house an enormous pile of brick with stone
                    facings and a mansard roof - very ugly - a large chapel at one end, and what had
                    been magnificent gardens on one side - terraced and geometrical with stretches
                    of splendid shrubberies, the rhododendrons just off their prime. We entered the
                    first floor with big dining room and library, really 3 rooms in one, the library
                    with deep embrasured windows - bed rooms, reception rooms and billiard room, all
                    full of beautiful and interesting things - and then to the next floor, where
                    were the state dining room and drawing room with walls covered with family
                    portraits and pictures - those in the drawing room mostly full length and built
                    into the walls! There were 2 state bed rooms once occupied by Queen Adelaid with
                    superb furniture and hangings in rose coloured brocade - ante rooms and sitting
                    rooms, until one’s head was turned. The family portraits are interesting. The
                    first Countess of Denbigh created in 1622 was Susan Villiers, sister of George
                    Villiers, Duke of Buckingham - full length portrait of both of them by Van Dyke
                    - and of the Duke of Hamilton and many others with strange histories, which Lady
                    Agnes and Fielding rattled off to us most amusingly. There was a portrait of
                    King James presented by himself - and a miniature of William 3d painted by the
                    then Countess of Denbigh. The chapel was beautiful - quite a church - and there
                    is a resident priest with a house in the grounds - and a Page 155 fine organ.
                    Beautiful fresh flowers everywhere about - the church serves for the parish
                    church - there is an entrance from the house, and from the second floor, a large
                    balcony opens on the church. After we had seen the house, lunch was served in
                    one of the down stairs rooms half sitting room and half library, and a very good
                    one it was - a kind of a picnic - and we were very merry - though the sister and
                    brother must have felt it very sad - their home no longer - the changed and
                    dismantled house - for no one lives there now, and they hope to let it. Word had
                    been sent to the housekeeper yesterday, that we would be there to lunch - the
                    few servants about, so glad to see the members of the family. The late Earl
                    though a lovely character was a fanatic - and parted with everything he could,
                    to build a church and monastery in Wales, where he now lies buried. The church
                    has a rather strange history. It was begun by the Earl and his first wife who
                    were protestants. She soon died - he entered the Roman communion, and the church
                    was diverted from protestant to Roman and finished as such. After luncheon we
                    went again into the grounds - and into the garden, which is huge - a high wall
                    about it, and the gardeners cottage within the walls. There was a great deal of
                    glass - the grapery magnificent - but everything showed neglect and want of
                    expenditure. But how lovely the grounds were - especially near the river - what
                    superb trees! We went back to the house through what is called the grass avenue,
                    a long beautiful avenue of beeches with a grass road between. In one of the
                    rooms we saw drawings of Newnham in all its stages. It began very well and was
                    very good looking, then it was enlarged and Page 156 changed to disadvantage -
                    then the late Earl built the present ugly thing around the old house. A carriage
                    arrived from Rugby early in the afternoon to take us to the station, and
                    Theodore, Nettie and I said goodbye to Lady Agnes and Fielding who waved their
                    adieux as long as we could see them - then we had a pleasant drive through
                    Lutterworth to Rugby, took the train for London - and are once more in smoke and
                    turmoil - and a wretched exchange it is for the lovely sylvan scenes we left
                    behind us! </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930607" type="Entry">
                <p><title>7 June.</title></p>
                <p>Theodore and Nettie have gone tonight to hear Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in a “Scrap of
                    Paper”. This morning I went with Theodore to Christie’s to see pictures and a
                    lot of lovely things - we intended to stay but a moment, but it was nearer 2
                    hours. Among them are two lovely little portraits of a prince and princess by P.
                    Mignard, and 2 pictures of Aart Van der Neer, a river scene, and a Dutch Town on
                    a River - and a lovely example of A. Van der Velder “A Calm”. Theodore intends
                    bidding for these at the auction on the 10th. This afternoon Annie, Nettie,
                    Howard and I went out to St. John’s Wood to have tea with Mrs. Messer - a
                    dismal, commonplace little house, and two very commonplace daughters - a very
                    clever son. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930608" type="Entry">
                <p><title>June 8.</title></p>
                <p>This morning with Theodore and Fielding to the Dowdeswell Gallery to see some
                    early English paintings. This afternoon Theodore Page 157 Nettie and I drove out
                    to the Dulwich Gallery, to see the fine collection of Cuyps they have there - as
                    we drove away from the hotel, met Eddie Lidderdale, and took him along. This
                    evening Mr Fielding dined with us and we went to the Savoy theatre to hear the
                    play of “Jane Annie”, written by Barrie and Conan Doyle, the music by Ernest
                    Ford - and excessively weak, boring thing - utter bosh - house practically
                    empty. We came home in hansoms. It is wonderful to see the jam and crush of the
                    streets of London at night! </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930609" type="Entry">
                <p><title>June 9.</title></p>
                <p>Just home from a pleasant dinner in the bachelor appartments of the Farrar
                    brothers - our whole pilgrimage went - and they had their married sister Mrs.
                    Parker down from the country. A delightful fashion for 3 brothers to live in.
                    The 3 dining room windows open on St. James Park and the drawing room windows
                    nearly opposite the Carlton Club. A rather pleasant man by the name of Boyle
                    took me in - he is cousin to the writer on gardening E.V.B., a woman. The other
                    evening when we were dining at the Lidderdales, I went in with a Mr. Arbuthnot,
                    who proved very agreeable - and some one happening to speak of John Inglesant,
                    said that he knew Shorthouse - a small insignificant looking man, a screw maker
                    by trade - and when Arbuthnot once said to him, having been much in Italy, that
                    he, Shorthouse must know Italy and the Italians well, said he had never been
                    there - that he knew of it, he got from the journals of his mother - who had
                    travelled a good deal, and kept a faithful record of all she saw and heard -
                    that after her Page 158 death these journals coming into his possession he began
                    to write this story - that his MSS. lay for years in his desk, until one day his
                    wife begged to read it, and then urged him to publish it!</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930610" type="Entry">
                <p><title> June 10.</title></p>
                <p>Quite alone tonight; Annie, Nettie and Howard having gone to Oxford today to stay
                    over Sunday, and take in Kenilworth and Stratford and Theodore having gone to
                    Dorking to spend Sunday with the Rathbones - I had a very cordial note from Mrs.
                    Rathbone, asking me to come too, but I thought it best to decline. This morning
                    about 10 o’clock, Mr. Berenson appeared, and Theodore, M. [sic; N.] and I went
                    off to the French Gallery to see a beautiful portrait of a Lady of Ferdinand
                    Bol, which Theodore has just bought. Fielding and Mr. Berenson to lunch, and
                    they and Theodore left immediately after for the auction at Christie’s. A great
                    labor parade took place this afternoon. It came up St. James St. turned into
                    Piccadilly on its way to Hyde Park. It began at 4:50 and about 7:50 the rear end
                    turned the corner. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930611" type="Entry">
                <p><title>June 11. 2d Sunday after Trinity.</title></p>
                <p>Alone all day - and not out of the house - resting and writing. Jones just home
                    after a visit of a few days to his people - bringing a new parlor-maid. He has
                    just shown me a letter he received from Mohammed Salah from Cairo - he says the
                    Golinischeffs had just arrived from up the river. It must have been warm enough
                    by that time - though the papers report the cotton crop an almost entire failure
                    in Egypt Page 159 because of the continued cold weather. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930612" type="Entry">
                <p><title>June 12.</title></p>
                <p>I waited a long time for Theodore’s return from Dorking this A.M. finally Mr.
                    Berenson came in - and after awhile Theodore appeared and we went off
                    immediately to Agnews to see some pictures. In the afternoon Mr. Farrer came
                    according to appointment and went with us to St. James Mall to hear Grossmith in
                    a humourous recitation of how he discovered America! very amusing - but a little
                    tiresome, the hall frightfully warm and close. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930613" type="Entry">
                <p><title>June 13.</title></p>
                <p>My birthday! And I am 56 years old! Well, I cannot believe it! Mr. Farrer came in
                    soon after breakfast to say goodbye, as he is off for a yachting tour - and then
                    came his brother, afterwards the interesting, travelled, rather invalid brother
                    - then Mr. Berenson and Nettie and I went off with him to the National Gallery
                    to the early Italian and Tuscan rooms - and oh! what delightful treasures of art
                    we saw! Fra Fillipo Lippi’s Madonna and Child - and his beautiful Annunciation
                    painted for Cosimo de Medici, with his crest. S.S. John the Baptist, Francis,
                    Lawrence, Cosmos, Damianus, Anthony and Peter the Martyr - also painted for
                    Cosimo. Then Botticelli’s Adoration of the Magi, attributed to Filippino Lippi,
                    son of Fillipo - Botticelli’s Mars and Venus - his lovely Nativity, with the
                    dance of the angels among the clouds, and the angels embracing the saints below.
                    Pollajuola’s Page 160 St. Sebastian, with wide landscape of the Val D’Arno. The
                    death of Procris by Piero di Cosmio. Fra Angelico’s large and important picture,
                    Christ with the banner of the Resurrection, with crowd of saints and Martyrs.
                    Giov. Bellini’s Christ in Gethsemane. The warrior adoring the infant Jesus,
                    attributed to Bellini, but painted by Cactena. A delicious picture of St.
                    Jerome, reading, by Marco Basaite. Portrait of a man, by Andrea del Sarto - and
                    the several splendid pictures by Moroni. Before these we sat and talked, and Mr.
                    Berenson was very instructive and interesting. After two hours we came away well
                    tired out. After lunch Theodore and I went shopping, came home at 5 o’clock for
                    tea, and out again for a drive to the Park, where we spent some time walking
                    about on the grass, among the superb oaks and beeches - the grass almost dead
                    from the protracted drought. Theodore has gone tonight to dine at the
                    Lidderdales to meet Mr. Bush and Blaird who are just arrived - they were here
                    this morning, but I was out. The brought good news of Toby and home.</p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930614" type="Entry">
                <p><title> June 14.</title></p>
                <p>Theodore went out this morning with Mr. Rathbone, Nettie and Mr. Berenson to the
                    National Gallery, and Howard went with me to several shops, then we drove out to
                    the Row to see the riding, and sat under the big trees for an hour, then home to
                    luncheon, Mr. Buk, Fielding and Berenson lunching with us. Nettie and Mr.
                    Fielding went off then to see the restored church of St. Bartholomew, and St.
                    Saviours in Surry [sic; Surrey], and for a lark on the tops of omnibuses, and
                    came home late, in great glee, Page 161 dined early, and were off to the
                    theatre. I went about after lunch, doing a lot of things, and then joined
                    Theodore and Mr. Berenson at the National Gallery - then home for tea and
                    muffins. Theodore, Annie, and I went to dine at the Amphitryon Club with Mr.
                    Rathbone, and then to the Empire Theatre, where we had a box. It is a kind of
                    glorified Café Chantant, and was hideously uninteresting - only redeemed by some
                    trained French poodles, who did wonderful things. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930615" type="Entry">
                <p><title>June 15.</title></p>
                <p>Mr Henry Farrar came this morning according to appointment, and went with me and
                    Mr. Berenson to the National Gallery, to see the Italian pictures again, Mr.
                    Farrar knowing Italian art very well, and being very fond of it, we had a
                    charming morning. We pent a long time over the Memlings, this gallery possessing
                    the largest and finest collection in the world. Mr Berenson came to lunch,
                    Fielding also - and he and Theodore spent the afternoon together. I went off to
                    do a little shopping - came home at 5 o’clock - for a cup of tea - and found
                    them still talking. Then Theodore went off to call on Lord and Lady Denbigh -
                    Nettie and Mr. Berenson came home after a delightful afternoon at the Abbey. It
                    is our last evening in London - and we are in the last throes of packing, at
                    which Jones has been busy all day. </p>
            </div>
            <div xml:id="EBA18930620" type="Entry">
                <p><title>S.S. Furst Bismark. Tuesday, June 20th.</title></p>
                <p>We got away from London early Friday morning - Mr. Fielding Page 161 was at the
                    station to see us off. Reached Southampton at 11 o’clock and embarked
                    immediately on the tender. The day was excessively hot, and we lay waiting for
                    the Bismarck until 3 o’clock. Dreadful hours they were - when she at last came
                    in, slowing up near us, she dropped her anchor, which getting beyond control for
                    some reason, rushed out with fearful force and was lost. It created a great
                    stir, and knocked the deck about the Capstain very much out of order. We were
                    soon off - found our old deck rooms ready for us. We have about 90 first class
                    passengers - a full 2d class - and a large 3d class as they take no more
                    steerage passengers. I have never seen so vulgar and noisy a crowd of people.
                    The weather has been good and favorable - have made splendid runs - and if we
                    meet with no detention, should be in New York by Thursday night, or Friday
                    morning.</p>
            </div>
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