RAMESES THE GREAT.
FROM A SCULPTURE IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM.
A hearty welcome was accorded to the conqueror throughout Egypt, but nowhere was he so warmly received as in his favourite seat San-Tanis, better known to us as Zoan. In the early days of the monarchy this had been an important city and an emporium of trade. It stood on one of the arms of the Nile, and was not far from the eastern frontier of the Delta. The Hyksos kings had occupied it soon after their invasion; they often resided there, and under them it attained great splendour and importance. After their expulsion it was neglected, nor did it come again into prominence until the days of Rameses, who almost rebuilt it, and under whom it became one of the most magnificent of the great cities of Egypt. It was known as Pa-Ramessu, the ‘city of Rameses,’ and we are fortunate in possessing a description of it by an Egyptian writer, written apparently in prospect of the king’s triumphal entry: ‘I came to the city of Rameses Meri-amen. Beautiful is she exceedingly. Thebes itself is not comparable unto her—the secret of happiness is here. Her meadows are full of all things fair and good, daily producing abundance of food; the pools are full of fish, and the lakes swarm with waterfowl; the fields are green with verdure; the melons are sweet as honey. The barns and threshing-floors are full of wheat and barley, heaped up even unto heaven; herbs of all kinds abound in the gardens; there the apple-tree blooms, the vine, the citron, and the fig-tree. Sweet is the wine like honey. The canal yields salt, the lake of Paher, natron (soda). The ships come and go daily, and there is plenty without stint. Gladness dwells in Pa-Ramessu, and happy is he whose habitation is therein. The lowly ones are like unto the great. They all unite to say: “Come and let us celebrate the heavenly and the earthly festivals!” The people of the marsh land bring lilies, and from Pshenhor come the crimson-tinted flowers of the pools. The maidens of the “conqueror’s city” are adorned as for a day of festivity. They stand at the doors, and their hands are filled with flowers and garlands on the morning of the day when King Rameses Meri-amen, the war-god upon earth, makes his entry. All flock together, neighbour with neighbour; each man bringing his petition.
‘Sweet is the wine of the conqueror’s city. Cider and delicious drinks abound. Sweet song by the women of the school of Memphis resounds; joy is in every heart. All are as one to celebrate the praises of this god—even of King Rameses Meri-amen, the war-god of the world.’
In the early part of his reign, Rameses was engaged in more than one warlike enterprise, but none ever created so much excitement, or so fascinated the popular imagination as that of the first campaign by the Orontes at Kadesh, which was celebrated with such true poetic licence in Pentaur’s epic song. Never, indeed, were the records of any sovereign’s life and victories so blazoned abroad as those of King Rameses; the walls of the temples in Egypt and in Nubia are covered with inscriptions, paintings, and sculptures belonging to this reign. One while we see him in what appears most inglorious warfare—trampling down a crowd of negroes, who are represented as pigmies, and over whom he is driving his chariot of war. Some have escaped, and are flying in hot haste towards their homes, represented by the little huts like bee-hives, such as are still common in Africa. A little child rushes forward to greet them, but the mother stands still, holding up her hands in an attitude of despair; a little farther off another negress is seen with a pot over the fire, which she is carefully watching that it may be ready for the returning soldier. She does not yet see the boy who is even at that moment running up to bring the fatal news. At another time the king is seen seated upon his throne in state receiving the negro tribute—giraffes, oxen, ostriches, and several monkeys appear in the drawing. Or he is receiving prisoners brought in by his generals, whilst Semem-kheftu-ef, the ‘Tearer to pieces of his enemies,’ is lying quietly at the foot of the throne.
On the walls of the colossal temple of Abu-simbel in Nubia, is a whole series of tableaux pertaining to the life of Rameses ii. There is one striking bas-relief representing three of his sons following him in a headlong charge upon the battle-field. The three princes speed on, each in his chariot, side by side, and each of them is attended by a charioteer, who carries a large shield for their defence. But Rameses himself is alone, in the forefront. Not even a charioteer stands beside him. The reins are fastened round his waist, whilst he bends the bow firmly with his hands. Above his head flies the hawk, the bird of Ra, ensign of the protection of the god. In another bas-relief, he is pausing for a moment, and checking his steeds. Semem-kheftu-ef is running by his side like a dog.
Vincent Brooks-Day & Son, Lith.
HALL IN THE GREAT TEMPLE AT IPSAMBUL.
These are only two illustrations out of the multitude carved with spirit and fidelity upon the interior of the great temple hewn in the sandstone rock at Abu-simbel, in Nubia, which, even in its present condition, excites a wonder that is akin to awe. In front of the entrance stand four colossal statues of the king seated on his throne, each of which is 66 feet in height. The face is grandly represented; a calm, haughty repose marks the features, and the placid, if not scornful, smile so characteristic of the king rests upon his lips—accustomed to speak in accents of command from early childhood and on to extreme old age. Close by is a smaller temple erected by queen Nefertari, the loved wife of his early manhood, in honour of her lord. Within its walls we may see family groups sculptured—the king in the prime of manhood, his beautiful young wife, and her children. An inscription tells us that—‘To the sovereign of the two lands, son of the Sun, lord of crowns, Rameses Meri-amen, his loving lady, queen, and princess Nefertari, has built a temple at Abu by the waters. Grant him life for evermore!’ In the great temple, Nefertari is only once depicted; here the children are grown up, and the sons follow their father to the battle. Rameses himself is older, the glow and ardour of early years have given way to the placidity and repose of later life, when his wars and his victories were over; for, though renowned as a conqueror, the greater part of his long reign passed by in peace. Nefertari herself does not seem to have lived long, and Rameses apparently was married two or three times; his last wife (so far as we can gather) was a foreign princess, whose hand was the pledge of lasting friendship and alliance between the two leading nations of the day.[52]