 | LETTER XXV. The pillar of fire, or, Israel in bondage |  |
25. LETTER XXV.
Your courier reached me yesterday with your
important letter, advising me of the refusal of the
King of Cyprus to receive your ambassador, or release
your subjects; and that you only await my return to declare
war. I shall not fail to respond to your call, and
will next week leave Egypt for Syria. I have not yet
visited the Thebaïd, and the superb temples of Upper
Egypt, nor seen the wonderful Labyrinth, nor the Cataracts;
but I hope at some future day to revisit this interesting
land. I feel, indeed, rejoiced to go away now,
as the painful and extraordinary events connected with
Remeses have cast a gloom over all things here, and
changed all my plans.
But I will resume the narrative, interrupted by the
abrupt ending of my last letter. That, with the preceding,
as well as this, I shall now send to you, as the seal
of secrecy is removed from them, by the publicity which
has been given to all the events by Remeses.
To return, dear mother, to the account of the scenes
which the magicians presented to his vision, in the
black marble chamber of the pyramid.
“I now,” continued Remeses, “beheld the excited
mother reach the presence of the princess, trying to
calm the wild tumult of hope and fear in her maternal
bosom; and to her, I saw the princess, after many inquiries,
commit the charge of the infant.
“`I shall adopt this child, O nurse,' she said; `bring
it, therefore, to the palace daily that I may see it. Take
as faithful care of it as if it were your own, and you
shall be rewarded with my favor, as well as with a
nurse's wages.'
“The joyful Hebrew woman tried to repress her happiness,
and trembled so, that the princess said—
“`Thon art awkward. Carry it tenderly; and see
that thou keep this secret closely, or I shall take the boy
away from thee, woman, and also punish thee. What
is thy name?'
“`Jochebeda,' she answered.
“`And thy husband's?'
“`Amram, your majesty,' she replied.
“I saw her, O Sesostris, when she had well got out
of the princess's sight, clasp, by stealth, her recovered
child to her bosom, while words of tenderness were in
her mouth, and her eyes streaming with tears of gratitude
and wonder.
“That child, O Sesostris, was myself!” suddenly exclaimed
Remeses. “Of this you have already been
convinced. I saw the scene before me, rapidly change
from day to night, and months and years fly by like a
cloud, or like a fleet of ships leaving no trace of their
track on the closing waters. Through all I saw myself,
from the infant of three years old, taken into the palace
from my Hebrew mother, to the boy of twelve—to the
rolled by before my eyes, until I saw myself, that is, the
Hebrew boy, in every scene of my life up to the very
moment then present. Then, with a sound of mournful
music, the Nile and its scenes slowly faded from before
my vision, and I was alone! The whole fearful history
had terminated in me, and left me standing there in
solitude, to reflect upon what I had seen.
“Rousing myself from my stupor of amazement, I
staggered back, and sunk in horror upon the stone
bench. I know not how long I lay there, but I was
at length aroused by a hand upon my shoulder; I
looked up and beheld the magician with the emblem
of life, and the emerald-tipped wand. He said—
“`My son, thou hast read the past of thy life! Wilt
thou still be King of Egypt?'
“`By what power hast thou opened the gates of the
past? How hast thou known all this?' I cried, with a
heart of despair.
“`Dost thou believe?'
“`As if the open Book of Thoth lay before me! I
doubt not,' I answered.
“`Wilt thou be King of Egypt?' again asked another
voice. A third, in another direction, took it up, and
every subterranean echo of the vaulted pyramid seemed
to take up the cry. I rushed from the hall, not knowing
whither I went. Doors seemed to open before
me, as if by magic, and I at length found myself emerging,
guided by the magician, into the open night. The
granite valves of the gate closed behind me, and I was
alone, in the quadrangle of the great temple of Thoth.
The stars shone down upon me like mocking eyes,
myself. I feared to reflect. I passed the sphinx, the
pylones, the obelisks; and ran along the avenue of the
Lake of the Dead, until I reached the Nile. I crossed
it in a boat that I found upon the shore, and without
having formed any clear idea of what I ought to do,
sought the palace, and gained my mother's ante-room.
Did I say `my mother,' Sesostris? I meant the good
queen. I sent in a page to say I wished to see her. In
surprise at my return, before the forty days were fulfilled,
she came to the door hurriedly, in her night-robe,
and opened it. I entered as calmly as I could, and did
not refuse her kiss, though I knew I was but a Hebrew!
One night's scenes, dreadful as they were, O Sesostris,
could not wholly break the ties of a lifetime of filial
love and reverence. I closed the door, secured it in
silence, and then sat down, weary with what I had undergone;
and, as she came near and knelt by me, and
laid her hand against my forehead, and asked me `if I
were ill, and hence had left the temple,' I was overcome
with her kindness; and when the reflection forced
itself upon me that I could no more call her mother, or
be entitled to these acts of maternal solicitude, I gave
way to the strong current of emotion, and fell upon her
shoulder, weeping as heartily as she had seen me weep
when lying in the little ark a helpless infant.
“During this brief moment, a suspicion flashed across
my mind, that the magicians might have produced this
as a part of my trial as a prince;—that it was not real,
but that by their wonderful arts of magic they had made
it appear so to my vision. I seized upon this idea, as a
man drowning in the Nile grasps at a floating flower.
“`Mother,' I said, `I am ill. I am also very sorrowful!'
“`The tasks and toils of thy initiation, my son, have
been too great for thee. Thy face is haggard and thy
looks unnatural. What is thy sorrow?'
“`I have had a vision, or what was like a dream, my
mother. I saw an infant, in this vision, before me,
placed in an ark, and set adrift upon the Nile. Lo, after
being borne by the current some ways, it was espied by
a princess who was bathing, whose maids, at her command,
brought it to her. It contained a circumcised
Hebrew child. The princess, being childless, adopted
it, and educated it, and declared it to be her son. She
placed him next to her in the kingdom, and was about
to resign to him the crown, when—'
“Here my mother, whose face I had earnestly regarded,
became pale and trembled all over. She seized
my hands and gasped—
“`Tell me, Remeses, tell me, was this a dream, or
hast thou heard it?'
“`I saw it, my mother, in a vision, in the subterranean
chamber of the pyramids. It was one of those
scenes of magic which the arts of the magi know how
to produce.'
“`Dost thou believe it?' she cried.
“`Is it not thy secret, O my mother, which Prince
Mœris shares with thee? Am I not right? Does not
that Hebrew child,' I cried, rising, `now stand before
thee?'
“She shrieked, and fell insensible!
“At length I restored her to consciousness. I related
all I have told you. Reluctantly, she confessed that all
hope never to pass through again, assured her I should
refuse the throne and exile myself from Egypt. She
implored me with strong appeals to keep the secret,
and mount the throne. I firmly refused to do so, inasmuch
as it would be an act of injustice, not only to
Mœris, but to the Egyptians, to deceive them with a
Hebrew ruler. She reminded me how, for sixty-one
years, Prince Joseph had governed Egypt. `Yes,' I said,
but it was openly and without deceit; while my reign,
would be a gross deception and usurpation.' But, O
Sesostris, I cannot revive the scene. It has passed!—I
have yielded! She showed me the letters of Prince
Mœris. She implored me for her sake to keep the
secret, and aid her in resisting the conspiracy of the
viceroy. When I reflected that he had made my mother
so long miserable, and now menaced her throne, I yielded
to her entreaties to remain a few days at the head of
the affairs that have been intrusted to my control, and
to lead the army against Mœris, should he fulfil his
menace to invade Lower Egypt. After that, I said, I
shall refuse to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter,
and will retire from the Court.”
“Not among the Hebrews?” I exclaimed.
“No, perhaps not. I have nothing in common with
them. I can do them no good: I cannot yet consent to
share their bondage. I shall seek my own family, for
the queen has told me who they are. My mother, my
own mother, Sesostris, shall again fold her child to her
heart! I recollect her beautiful, tearful face, as seen in
the vision of the pyramids. I have a brother, too, and
a sister!”
“I know them both!” I cried, almost joyfully; though,
dear mother, it was a sad joy I felt, to know that Remeses
was a brother to Miriam and the ecclesiastic gold-caster.
He became at once interested, and I told him
all I knew about them, as I have you. He listened
with deep attention, and seemed pleased. I also told
him how often I had conversed, in the garden of flowers,
with the venerable Amram, the father of Miriam.
“And my father also, you should add,” he said, with
a melancholy smile. “I knew it not, Sesostris; I believed
him to be the husband of my nurse. Thinkest
thou all this time he knew I was his son?”
“I doubt it not,” I answered. “The eyes of your
father and mother must naturally have been upon you
from your childhood up. They must have witnessed all
your career, and rejoiced in it, and kept the secret locked
in their own humble hearts, lest you and the world
should know it, and the glory they secretly saw you
sharing, be taken away or resigned by you.”
“I shall see them. They shall yet hear me say,
mother, father, brother, sister, to each one of them. But,
Sesostris, I must then bid them farewell forever, and
Egypt also,—if the queen will permit me to go,” he suddenly
added, with bitter irony unusual with him; “for
slaves must have no will but their master's.”
I laid my arm kindly and sympathizingly upon his
shoulder, and silently embraced him.
“I feel for you, O Remeses, with all my heart,” I
said.
“I know you do, O prince: I am sure that you do.
But let us terminate this subject. My mother's—I mean,
alas! the queen's desire shall be gratified. I will, for a
temples. My initiation is over. Without doubt the
priests of the hierarchy will seek to put me to death,
when they learn that a Hebrew has been initiated into
all their learning and mysteries. It will be necessary
for me to leave Egypt.”
“Then let Tyre, O prince, be thy asylum—thy future
home!” I cried. “There the Hebrew is not in bondage,
and is a Syrian among Syrians. There you shall have
a palace and retinue, and be served as becomes your
wisdom and greatness. My mother Epiphia will welcome
you with pleasure, for she has already learned to
honor you, from my letters. Our city is about to go to
war with the King of Cyprus, and my mother has written,
urging me to return. Twelve galleys will await me at
Pelusium, in a fortnight hence, to escort my own to
Tyre. Consent, O Remeses, to go with me.”
“Noble prince,” he exclaimed, deeply moved, “how
can I thank you! It is the greatest consolation, in this
my sorrow and humiliation, to know that you do not
withdraw from me your friendship; that you can still
esteem me as a man! Sesostris, I thank you. I will
accept your offer, if my—that is, the queen, will change
her mind, and permit me to address a letter, by a swift
courier, to Prince Mœris. In it I will briefly say that I
am informed of my true lineage, and that if he will
quietly wait the succession, and be submissive to the
queen, and withhold his army from Memphis, I will,
within three days after obtaining his affirmative reply,
leave Egypt for a foreign land. Such a course will
prove the best in the end for him and Egypt, and I
have no doubt he will consent to adopt it. How extraordinary
the secret with which he so terribly menaced my—the
queen!”
I approved of the course suggested. Remeses soon
afterwards sought the queen; and at the end of four
hours he returned to me, looking very weary and pale,
yet smiling, saying—
“It is achieved! It was a fearful struggle! The
queen has consented! Indeed, she seems heart-broken,
spirit-crushed! This discovery, against which her soul
has so long battled, has left her prostrate, almost
wrecked! For her sake I bore up and hid my own
unfathomable sorrow. She has, at my solicitation, consented
that I shall not only write to Prince Mœris, inserting
a clause enjoining silence as to my birth, but
her own courier shall be its bearer, signifying her wish
for conciliation. The letter was written in her presence,
the clause for silence introduced, and the courier is already
gone with it.”
While Remeses was speaking, a page entered and
informed him that the queen wished to see him. He
found her ill with a feverish pulse. She called him to
her, and said—
“My son, I am about to die! This blow is too heavy
for me to bear! I shall never recover! It was my
wish to leave you firmly seated upon my throne;
but the gods have decreed otherwise. Call a council
of the hierarchy. I must not be faithless to my ancestors,
and leave a vacant throne. You have advised
me to adopt Prince Mœris. I can do no otherwise.
For this act, assemble my councils, both of state and of
the priesthood.”
“I obeyed,” said Remeses, when he subsequently
related what passed. “The next day the councils met
in one session, and the queen, supported upon her couch,
presided. Briefly she announced her intention of adopting
Mœris-Mento,—giving his full name,—as her son, and
the next in succession to the throne, their consent being
obtained. Then came up the question, `why Prince
Remeses declined?' Being present, I answered that it
was my intention to retire from the court, visit foreign
lands, and leave the government of Egypt in the hands
of Mœris. At the earnest request of the queen I made
no allusion to the secret. The united councils yielded
their assent, and the royal secretary drew up the papers
in due form, which the queen, supported by me, signed.
A courier was then dispatched with a copy of the instrument
to the prince. The cabinet was soon afterwards
dismissed, and I was left alone with the queen, who soon
became very ill.”
Thus far, my dearest mother, had I written in this
letter five days ago, when the chief chamberlain came
hastening to my room, in great terror, saying that the
queen was dying! I lost not a moment in following
him to her apartments. Ever since the meeting of the
council she had been growing worse, and all the skill of
her physicians could not abate the disease, which was
pronounced inflammation of the brain. She had been
for two days wildly delirious, calling upon Remeses not
to leave her, and accusing the gods of seeking to put
upon her a stranger for her own son! At length her
ravings and her fever ceased, and she rapidly failed.
When I entered, I found Remeses kneeling by her side,
his manly head bowed upon her couch, and tears falling
now, but I could see that the azure circle of death girdled
her eyes, and that the light of the soul within was
expiring. Her whole attention was fixed upon Remeses,
to whom she kept saying, in a faint whisper, and
with a smile, “My son, my son, my own son! call me
mother!”
“Mother, O my mother!” he exclaimed, in his strong
anguish, “I cannot part with thee! Thou hast been a
mother to me indeed!”
As I entered, her gaze turned towards me.
“It is the Prince of Tyre! I thought it was the others!”
“What others, my mother?” asked Remeses.
“They will soon come. I commanded him to bring
them all. I must see them ere I die. But the Prince
of Tyre is welcome!” And she smiled upon me, and
gave me her other hand to kiss. It was cold as ivory!
I also knelt by her, and sorrowfully watched her sharpening
features, which the chisel of Death seemed
shaping into the marble majesty of a god.
At this moment the door opened, and I saw, ushered
in by a Hebrew page, the venerable head gardener, Amram;
the young Hebrew ecclesiastic; Miriam the papyrus
writer; and, leaning upon her arm, a dignified and
still beautiful dame of fifty-five. I could not be mistaken—this
last was the mother of Remeses.
“Cause all persons to go forth the chamber,” cried
the queen at the sight, her voice recovering in part its
strength. She glanced at me to remain.
“Come hither, Amram,” she said, “and lead to my
bedside thy wife. Remeses, behold thy mother and
no longer mine, I will return him to thee forever!” Her
voice was veiled with tears. Remeses rose, and turning
to his mother, who looked worthy of him, said:
“My mother, I acknowledge thee to be my mother!
Give me thy blessing, as thou hast often done in my infancy.”
He tenderly and respectfully embraced her, and then
pressing his father's hand to his lips, he knelt before
them. They were deeply moved, and instead of blessing
him, wept upon him with silent joy.
“Are there not two more—a brother, a sister?” said
Remeses, his fine face radiant with that ineffable beauty
which shines from benevolence and the performance of
a holy duty. I then led forward Miriam, whom he regarded
with admiring surprise (for she looked like a
queen in her own right), and then tenderly embraced,
saying to me, “Though I have lost a kingdom, O Sesostris,
I have gained a sister, which no crown could
bestow upon me.” Then, when he saw the noble and
princely looking priest, he cried, as he folded him to his
breast—
“This is, indeed, my brother!”
The whole scene was touching and interesting beyond
the power of my pen to describe, my dear mother. The
dying queen smiled with serene pleasure, and waving
her hand, Remeses led first his mother, and then his
father, and in succession his sister and brother, to her
couch. Upon the heads of each she laid her hand, but
longest upon the mother's, saying:
“Love him—be kind to him—he has no mother now
but thee! Love him for my sake—you cannot but love
thee a man and a prince worthy to rule a nation,
and in whom my eyes, closing upon the present, and seeing
far into the future, behold a leader of thy people—a
prince to thy nation. Born to a throne, he shall yet
reign king of armies and leader of hosts, who I see follow
him obedient to his will and submissive to the rod
of his power. Remeses, I die! Kiss me!”
The noble Hebrew reverently bent over her lips, as
if in an act of worship; and when he lifted his face,
there remained a statue of clay. The Queen of Egypt
was no more! Sesostris.
I closed, dear mother, my account of the death of the
great and good Queen Amense (which I wrote the day
following that sad event), in order to accompany Remeses
to the chief embalmers. As I passed through the
streets, I saw that the whole population was in mourning.
Women went with dishevelled hair, men ceased
to shave their heads and beards, and all the signs of woe
for death, which I have before described, were visible.
By the laws of Egypt, not even a king can be embalmed
in his own palace. Remeses, on reaching the suburb
of the embalmers, was received into the house of the
chief, and here he gave directions as to the fashion of
the case and sarcophagus, and the pattern of the funeral
car, and of the baris in which it was to cross the Nile
to the pyramid which, I have already said, she has been,
since the first year of her reign, erecting for her burial-place—placing
a casing of vast stones, brought down
from the quarries near Elephantis, each year.
I will not delay to describe the ceremonies of preparation,
whose demise has cast a pall over Egypt. Your assurance
that it would take you five months to get ready
your war-fleet against Cyprus, and the desire of Remeses
that I delay until the eighty days' mourning for
the queen were over, induced me to remain. It is now
four days since her burial in the centre of her stately
pyramid, with the most imposing and gorgeous rites
ever known at the entombment of a monarch. Prince
Mœris was chief mourner! I have omitted to state that
he readily acceded to the conditions proposed in the letter
of Remeses, and when the courier followed, conveying
to him the fact that he had been adopted and declared
her heir by the queen, he addressed a frank and
friendly letter to Remeses; for it is easy for him to assume
any character his interest prompts. As soon as
the intelligence of the death of the queen reached him,
he hastened to Memphis. Here he had an interview
with Remeses, whom he treated with courtesy, and
offered the supervision of that part of Egypt where the
Hebrew shepherds dwell; for I have learned that in a valley,
which leads from Raamses to the Sea of Arabia, there
are hundreds of Hebrews who, like their ancestors, keep
vast flocks and herds belonging to the crown, but out of
which they are allowed a tenth for their subsistence.
Over this pastoral domain, embracing about twenty
thousand shepherds, the prospective Pharaoh proposed
to place Remeses. I felt that it was intended as an insult;
but Remeses viewed it as an evidence of kindness
on the part of one who knows not how to be noble or
great.
The interment of the queen past, there is nothing to
her bounty he is rich, and has given to his parents a
large treasure, which will enable them to be at ease;
and besides, the queen gave to them and to Aaron
(this is the name of the elder brother of Remeses), and
his sister, the right of citizenship. Mœris, the day of
the queen's burial, virtually ascended the throne. His
coronation, however, will not take place until after he
has passed through the forty days' novitiate.
And now, my dear mother, you will be surprised to
learn that, the information of the Hebrew birth of Remeses
(who has modestly dropped his first Egyptian
name and adheres only to the second, which is Mosis,
or Moses, as the Hebrews pronounce it), was wickedly
conveyed, with large bribes, to the magicians by Prince
Mœris himself; and that, upon this information and
influence, they recalled from the past, which, like the
future, is open to their magical art, the scenes of his life,
and presented them before his vision.
Wonderful, incomprehensible, dear mother, above all
things I have seen in Egypt, is the mysterious power
of these magicians and sorcerers. Originally of the
priestly order, they have advanced into deeper and
deeper mysteries, until the hierarchy of the regular
temple-worship fear them, and deny their ecclesiastical
character, saying, “that they have climbed so high the
mountains of Osiris, that they have fallen headlong over
their summits into the dark realms of Typhon, and owe
their dread power to his auspices.”
Whatever be the source of their powerful art, dear
mother, there is no doubt of its reality. Not even all
the invocations, sacrifices, oblations, prayers, libations,
these magicians and sorcerers. They can convert day
into night! destroy the shadow of an obelisk! fill the
air with a shower of sand, or of flowers! convert their
rods into vines that bear grapes! and walk with living
asps as if they were almond or acacia rods! They can
present before the inquirer, the face or scene in a distant
land that is desired to be beheld! They can remove
blocks of porphyry by a touch of the finger, and
make a feather heavy as gold! They can cause invisible
music in the air, and foretell the rain! And when
extraordinary motives and rewards are brought to bear
upon them, they can, by their united skill and necromantic
art, aided by sorcery, reproduce the past, as in
the case of Remeses!
These powerful, yet dreaded and hated men, have for
ages been an appendage to the crown, and call themselves
the “servants of the Pharaohs.” The kings of
Egypt, who have protected, favored, and sought their
assistance, have also trembled at their power. Without
question they are aided by the evil genii; and perform
their works through the agency of the spirit of evil.
This, dear mother, will be the last letter I shall write
you from Egypt. Accompanied by Remeses, I shall
to-morrow embark in my galley for Pelusium. My
friend, the Admiral Pathromenes, will accompany us to
the mouth of the Eastern Nile. I ought to say that
King Mœris, now Pharaoh-elect, has extended towards
me marked civilities, and seeks for a continuance of
friendly intercourse. I shall bear a royal letter from
him to your majesty, expressive of his respect for
you, and his desire to perpetuate the alliance. But I
army in Phœnicia, after I see the King of Cyprus
chained to the poop of my galley, and, placing Remeses
at the head, invade Egypt, call the Hebrews to arms,
and, overturning the throne of Mœris, place my friend
in his seat. Did not the dying queen prophesy that he
was born to rule? It is over Egypt he will yet wield
the sceptre! I will do my part, dear mother, to fulfil
the prophecy.
To the lovely Princess Thamonda convey my devotions,
and assure her that I shall make war against Cyprus
more successfully, with her heart wedded to mine,
than alone. Warn her, dear mother, that I shall claim
her hand as soon as I return, and that Remeses will be
the groom-friend whom I shall honor with the high
place of witness and chief guest at our nuptials.
Farewell, dear mother.
Remeses desires to unite with me in affectionate regards
to you.
| LETTER XXV. The pillar of fire, or, Israel in bondage | |