The life, letters and work of Frederic Leighton. Volume IIBarrington, Russell, Mrs.
General
The life, letters and work of Frederic Leighton. Volume II
Barrington, Russell, Mrs.
Leighton of Stretton, Frederic Leighton, Baron, 1830-1896
Frequent villages animate the river's edge; they are built of
unbaked bricks coated with mud, and have a most striking effect.
The simplicity and variety of the shapes of the houses, with
their slightly sloping sides and flat roofs, give them a certain
dignity in their picturesqueness which delights me; the colour,
too, is particularly agreeable, and is the most beautiful foil
to the bronze-brown of the naked, or nearly naked, fellaheen and
the indigo of the robes of their wives; to the sparkling white
of the doves that swarm in the gardens, and to the cinder-colour
of the buffaloes that wink and snooze along the bank. Every
village nestles in a dense grove of date-palms, and one cannot
conceive a lovelier harmony than that which is made by the
combination of the browns below with the sea-green of the
sweeping branches and the flame-like orange of the fruit. The
acacia (here a large, massive tree, with a vigorous dark green
foliage) is frequent in the villages.
The shape of the hills and mountains is very peculiar and
striking. It gives the idea of a choppy sea of sand thrown up
into abrupt peaks and then uniformly truncated by a sweep of a
vast scythe, sweeping everything from horizon to horizon. Here
and there a little peak, too low to be embraced in the general
decapitation, raises its head amongst innumerable table-lands
and gives great value and relief to the general outline.
Meanwhile an occasional train and not infrequent lines of
telegraph poles don't add to the poetry of the scene.
Nor the flies to one's comfort! What a curse they are! they
_infest_ one's face. I wonder what the epiderm of Egyptian
children is made of; you see babies with a dozen flies settled,
no, stuck, embedded in and round each of their eyes, and as many
in and about their noses and mouths; and they make no attempt to
remove them--seem absolutely unconscious of them.
Scenery this afternoon less interesting--river wider--banks more
monotonous.
Opposite a place called Magaga, some fine mountains on the east
bank, scored with innumerable horizontal lines marking the
monotonous parallel strata of which they are composed; a
characteristic peculiarity in all the Egyptian hills I have seen
as yet. (The finest in outline are the Quarries opposite
Sakkara, on the right bank, and like those behind the Citadel at
Cairo.)
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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