Egypt of the Pharaohs and of the Khedivé

by F. Barham Zincke

Behind the great temple-palace of Medinet Haboo are the tombs of the queens and princesses. These, too, have been much injured; and have, at some period, subsequent to that of their original appropriation, been used for the sepulture of private persons.

Along the foot of the hills, from the tombs of the queens to the entrance of the Valley of the Kings, is one vast Necropolis for the priests, the official class, and wealthy private individuals. All these fall within the New Empire. Among them, however, are found some instances of royal interments, but they belong to the Old Empire. When we talk of the New Empire we must not forget its date: its palmiest days belong to the time of the Exodus and of Abraham’s visit to Egypt.

As I rode through this city of the dead, visiting the tombs which possessed the greatest interest, I endeavoured, as I had done in the Necropolis of the Pyramids, to recall its pristine state; to see it as it was seen by those who constructed and peopled it. The tombs were then everywhere along the Háger, that is, on the first rise or stage of the desert, above the cultivated land. Here, as generally throughout Egypt, vegetable life, and the soil which supports it, do not extend one inch beyond the height of the inundation, which brings the soil as well as the water. The stony desert, and the plant-clothed plain touch with sharp definition, each maintaining its own character to the last, just as the land and sea do along the beach. From this line of contact to the precipitous rise of the hills there is a belt of irregular ground. In some places this belt is a rocky level or incline, in others it is broken into rocky valleys, but always above the cultivated plain. The whole of it is thoroughly desert, and all of it ascends towards the contiguous range. It is everywhere limestone, and generally covered with débris from the excavations, and from the hill-side. Such is the site of this great Necropolis.

In the days when Thebes was the capital, the whole of this space was covered with the entrances to the tombs. Some of these entrances were actual temples. Some resembled the propylons of temples. Some were gateways, less massive and lofty, but still conspicuous objects. In every tomb were its mummied inmates. They were surrounded by representations in stone, and colour, of the objects and scenes they had delighted in during life. Their property, their pursuits, what they had thought and felt, what they had taken an interest in, and what they had believed, were all around them. Objects of Nature, objects of art, objects of thought, had each assumed its form in stone. Each was there for the mummy to contemplate. These were true houses for the dead. Houses built, decorated, and furnished for the dead. In which, however, the dead were not dead; but were living in the mummied state. We have rock-tombs elsewhere; but where, out of Egypt, could we find another such city? It is a city excavated in the rocky plain, and in the mountain valleys. It consists of thousands of apartments, spacious halls, long galleries, steps ascending and descending, and chambers innumerable. It is more extensive, more costly, more decorated, than many a famous city on which the sun shines. It is peopled everywhere with its own inhabitants; but among them is no fear, or hope—no love or hatred—no pleasure or pain—no heart is beating—no brain is busy.

As we wander about these mansions of the dead we feel as Zobeide did when she found herself in the spell-bound city. The inhabitants are present. Everything they used in life is present. Life itself only is wanting. Everything has become stone.

The largest of the tombs now accessible is that of Petamenap, a Royal Scribe. It is entered by a sunken court, 103 feet in length by 76. This was once surrounded by a wall, in which was a lofty gateway, the two sides of which are still standing. This court leads to a large hall, which is the commencement of a long series of galleries, apartments, and side chambers—all excavated in the solid rock. Omitting the side chambers, and measuring only the galleries and apartments they passed through, the excavations of this single tomb extend to a length of 862 feet. The area excavated amounts to nearly 24,000 square feet, or an acre and a quarter. These are Sir Gardiner Wilkinson’s measurements, which have been accepted by Lepsius, who also himself carefully inspected the tomb. The whole of the wall-space gained by these excavations, which are actually more than one-third of a mile in length, is covered throughout with most carefully-executed sculptures, in the most elaborate style of Egyptian art. It is worth noticing that this tomb of a private individual exceeds in dimensions, costliness, and magnificence all the royal tombs—of course, excepting the Great Pyramids—with which we are acquainted.

We may infer, from the costliness of these tombs, and from the length of time it must have taken to excavate and adorn them, that the Egypt of the time to which they belong, was a wisely-ordered kingdom, in which, to a very considerable extent, not the arbitrary caprice of kings and governors, but law was supreme. At that time the scene of such a history as that of Naboth could not have been in Egypt. It must for long ages have been, in the very important matter of a man’s doing what he pleased with his own, in a very unoriental condition. This tomb of Petamenap, and thousands of others, more or less like it, could only have been constructed where, and when, subjects may acquire great wealth, and display it with safety.

We may also infer, from the size of the city under the new monarchy, and the wealth of its inhabitants, from their mode of living, their tastes and pursuits, and from the state of the arts which ministered to the convenience and adornment of their lives—upon all of which points this Necropolis gives inexhaustible, and absolutely truthful evidence; that a great part of the wealth of Thebes was drawn from precisely the same source as that of Belgravia—that is, from the rent of the land.

An abundance of minor matters, but full of historical interest and instruction, may be gleaned from the same source. We find, for instance, that 3,350 years ago the principle and the use of the arch were familiar to the Egyptians; for there are several arches of that date in the tombs. Glass-blowing was practised. The syphon was understood, and used. In their entertainments the presence of both sexes was usual; and perfumes and flowers were on these occasions regarded as indispensable. The shadoof, the simplest and most effective application of a small amount of power to produce a considerable result, was as universally at work on the banks of the river, and of the canals, as at the present day; indeed, we cannot doubt but that it was much more so. But it is unnecessary to add here to these particulars.