DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.33567#0128
52
adventurers of the sea, picking up the abandoned obelisk, towed it in and afterward libelled it in the Admiralty-
Court and received ^5,000 for executing what the original arrangement had failed to accomplish. The French
obelisk was given by Mehemet Ali to Charles X, though Napoleon had long before planned the taking of one
to Paris. In 1831, just fifty years ago, Louis Philippe undertook the transportation, and placed the obelisk where
so many good Americans have seen it, in Paris, in Place de la Concorde. It is indisputable that the expenses of
this transfer across the Mediterranean, or around by the Bay of Biscay, whichever way it went, were nearly
$500,000, or about five times as much as our enterprise, under the execution of Commander Gorringe, cost.
"Our obelisk is here. It is here—and now, Mr. Mayor, I have the honor to transfer to the keeping of the city
of New York this great and ancient monument. May it stand upon its site a perpetual monument, an emblem
of Egypt, a witness and teacher of that most ancient civilization, to be cherished by this great modern city in
the present and the future, as a pledge and an evidence of the constant friendship of the ex-Khedive Ismail, of
his son Tewhk Pacha and of the Egyptian government to the government and people of the United States.
What is our obelisk? How came it here? What shall it teach us and what shall we say to it while it remains
with us? This obelisk was one of two at the Temple of Heliopolis, a few miles from Cairo, and was one only
of the numerous structures of this character that the great King Thothmes III raised in glory to himself and
in honor to his god. Great temples, great monuments in other forms as well as in obelisks, marked his reign.
He was the greatest king that Egypt had ever seen. He had united Upper and Lower Egypt into one
kingdom. He had conquered other nations and extended the Egyptian frontiers to the ends of the earth.
He was a patron of the arts, a lover of learning, had all the kingly virtues, was full of devotion to religion,
faithful to Egypt, a magnificent king and conqueror. He was of the age that saw the exodus of the Hebrews
from Egypt. He was of the age in which Moses was born. He appears in the long line of history with the
greatest conquerors of the world—with Alexander, with Caesar, with Napoleon. He lived in a stage of society
at a period in the world's advancement when the gulf between the king and the people was vast, and in the
proportion in which he was vast and magnificent they were abject and poor. This obelisk, then, standing there
in front of that temple for fifteen hundred years, saw all the famous men of other countries seeking the learning
of the Egyptians in this temple, the great school resorted to by great statesmen and philosophers of the ancient
world. No doubt, passing under the shadow of this obelisk, Moses came to know all the wisdom of the
Egyptians. In this same temple Solon and Thales and Plato learned the wisdom that made them the
benefactors of the world. Transferred to Alexandria to grace the triumph and illustrate the supremacy of the
Caesars, our obelisk witnessed there on the shores of the Mediterranean—in the great city founded by the Greek
who carried the arms of Europe to the Indus—the rise, fluctuation and fall of great schools of philosophy, the
fortunes of a mighty mart of commerce, and the final disappearance of Graeco-Roman civilization under the flood
of Mahometan conquest. Cleopatra got more credit for this needle, or rather this needle has got more credit
from Cleopatra than the fact justifies. It was not erected in front of the temple or palace of the Caesars until
six years after her death, and whatever the glories were that Cleopatra and Caesar shared together in the
Egyptian splendor of those days at Alexandria, this obelisk and its contemplation were not among them. Yet
it formed a part of Roman splendor and domination in Egypt, and while they took as many as they pleased,
fortunately this was left, as being associated with Roman glory in Alexandria, in front of the palace or temple of
the Caesars. The other was thrown down, but this one stood wherever it was placed from the time it was so
placed until, standing, it was taken down to be removed. This, then, is the genius of this obelisk—the faculty
of staying where it was put. It never has been prostrated by time or casualty. It never has been broken by
clumsiness or blundering. It never has been out of good hands. First, those of Thothmes and his engineers;
second, of the Caesars and the Roman masters of mankind; and, third, of Mr. Hurlbert and Mr. Stebbins and
Commander Gorringe and Mr. Vanderbilt. What, then, is the lesson, what the teaching that this obelisk is to
give us ? Hitherto, in ancient times, each one was transferred from its home in Egypt, at a time of the strength
and pride of the nation that took it, as spoil. These obelisks have looked down and waited, not in vain, for the
same strife, for the same ruin which they had witnessed in Egypt. Rome, mistress of the world, in the sight of
the obelisks planted in the great city, was taken and sacked by Northern barbarians, its empire dispersed, its
learning, its civilization obscured, its power as an empire never again restored. The obelisks of Byzantium saw
the last Constantine perish under the tide of Asiatic barbarism. Assyria within our obelisk's lifetime has fallen
as an empire—by successive conquerors has been trampled in the dust. Asia still holds its obelisks, if you can
only find them, but they have been buried in the ruins of Nineveh, which has hidden them from all modern
explorers. Sooner or later, then, in the experience of ancient times, the obelisks have had their revenge, if they
cherished any affection for Egypt and felt any humiliation in her degradation and their transportation. If these
obelisks could only tell of the glories in which they have assisted, if they could only remember all they saw and
only narrate all they remember, what teachers they would be! How they would smile at modern strength and
glory and at the pride of one hundred or one thousand years as indicating strength and permanency and
endurance! How they would say, whatever else may be the forms through which civilization and population,
governments and power of nations are to pass, there is one common grave of ruin in which they are all to be
buried.
" Turning to modern obelisks we see what has happened within the brief time in which one of them for
adventurers of the sea, picking up the abandoned obelisk, towed it in and afterward libelled it in the Admiralty-
Court and received ^5,000 for executing what the original arrangement had failed to accomplish. The French
obelisk was given by Mehemet Ali to Charles X, though Napoleon had long before planned the taking of one
to Paris. In 1831, just fifty years ago, Louis Philippe undertook the transportation, and placed the obelisk where
so many good Americans have seen it, in Paris, in Place de la Concorde. It is indisputable that the expenses of
this transfer across the Mediterranean, or around by the Bay of Biscay, whichever way it went, were nearly
$500,000, or about five times as much as our enterprise, under the execution of Commander Gorringe, cost.
"Our obelisk is here. It is here—and now, Mr. Mayor, I have the honor to transfer to the keeping of the city
of New York this great and ancient monument. May it stand upon its site a perpetual monument, an emblem
of Egypt, a witness and teacher of that most ancient civilization, to be cherished by this great modern city in
the present and the future, as a pledge and an evidence of the constant friendship of the ex-Khedive Ismail, of
his son Tewhk Pacha and of the Egyptian government to the government and people of the United States.
What is our obelisk? How came it here? What shall it teach us and what shall we say to it while it remains
with us? This obelisk was one of two at the Temple of Heliopolis, a few miles from Cairo, and was one only
of the numerous structures of this character that the great King Thothmes III raised in glory to himself and
in honor to his god. Great temples, great monuments in other forms as well as in obelisks, marked his reign.
He was the greatest king that Egypt had ever seen. He had united Upper and Lower Egypt into one
kingdom. He had conquered other nations and extended the Egyptian frontiers to the ends of the earth.
He was a patron of the arts, a lover of learning, had all the kingly virtues, was full of devotion to religion,
faithful to Egypt, a magnificent king and conqueror. He was of the age that saw the exodus of the Hebrews
from Egypt. He was of the age in which Moses was born. He appears in the long line of history with the
greatest conquerors of the world—with Alexander, with Caesar, with Napoleon. He lived in a stage of society
at a period in the world's advancement when the gulf between the king and the people was vast, and in the
proportion in which he was vast and magnificent they were abject and poor. This obelisk, then, standing there
in front of that temple for fifteen hundred years, saw all the famous men of other countries seeking the learning
of the Egyptians in this temple, the great school resorted to by great statesmen and philosophers of the ancient
world. No doubt, passing under the shadow of this obelisk, Moses came to know all the wisdom of the
Egyptians. In this same temple Solon and Thales and Plato learned the wisdom that made them the
benefactors of the world. Transferred to Alexandria to grace the triumph and illustrate the supremacy of the
Caesars, our obelisk witnessed there on the shores of the Mediterranean—in the great city founded by the Greek
who carried the arms of Europe to the Indus—the rise, fluctuation and fall of great schools of philosophy, the
fortunes of a mighty mart of commerce, and the final disappearance of Graeco-Roman civilization under the flood
of Mahometan conquest. Cleopatra got more credit for this needle, or rather this needle has got more credit
from Cleopatra than the fact justifies. It was not erected in front of the temple or palace of the Caesars until
six years after her death, and whatever the glories were that Cleopatra and Caesar shared together in the
Egyptian splendor of those days at Alexandria, this obelisk and its contemplation were not among them. Yet
it formed a part of Roman splendor and domination in Egypt, and while they took as many as they pleased,
fortunately this was left, as being associated with Roman glory in Alexandria, in front of the palace or temple of
the Caesars. The other was thrown down, but this one stood wherever it was placed from the time it was so
placed until, standing, it was taken down to be removed. This, then, is the genius of this obelisk—the faculty
of staying where it was put. It never has been prostrated by time or casualty. It never has been broken by
clumsiness or blundering. It never has been out of good hands. First, those of Thothmes and his engineers;
second, of the Caesars and the Roman masters of mankind; and, third, of Mr. Hurlbert and Mr. Stebbins and
Commander Gorringe and Mr. Vanderbilt. What, then, is the lesson, what the teaching that this obelisk is to
give us ? Hitherto, in ancient times, each one was transferred from its home in Egypt, at a time of the strength
and pride of the nation that took it, as spoil. These obelisks have looked down and waited, not in vain, for the
same strife, for the same ruin which they had witnessed in Egypt. Rome, mistress of the world, in the sight of
the obelisks planted in the great city, was taken and sacked by Northern barbarians, its empire dispersed, its
learning, its civilization obscured, its power as an empire never again restored. The obelisks of Byzantium saw
the last Constantine perish under the tide of Asiatic barbarism. Assyria within our obelisk's lifetime has fallen
as an empire—by successive conquerors has been trampled in the dust. Asia still holds its obelisks, if you can
only find them, but they have been buried in the ruins of Nineveh, which has hidden them from all modern
explorers. Sooner or later, then, in the experience of ancient times, the obelisks have had their revenge, if they
cherished any affection for Egypt and felt any humiliation in her degradation and their transportation. If these
obelisks could only tell of the glories in which they have assisted, if they could only remember all they saw and
only narrate all they remember, what teachers they would be! How they would smile at modern strength and
glory and at the pride of one hundred or one thousand years as indicating strength and permanency and
endurance! How they would say, whatever else may be the forms through which civilization and population,
governments and power of nations are to pass, there is one common grave of ruin in which they are all to be
buried.
" Turning to modern obelisks we see what has happened within the brief time in which one of them for