In the first place the objects found in the tomb belong to two distinct categories, those which were used by the deceased when alive, and others specially made for funerary purposes. This distinction seems to be brought out most clearly in the comparison of the chariots in the vestibule and in the burial chamber respectively.
I do not propose to enter into any further discussion of the contents of the wonderful shrine or canopy which is to be investigated next winter, nor to attempt to anticipate the result of the examination of the so-called “canopic” chest, which is said to be a unique example of the sculptor’s art. The experience gained in investigating the contents of such chests in other tombs gives one confidence in assuming that the heart of Tutankhamen will not be found in it, as so many writers imagine, but that its four compartments will contain respectively the liver, lungs, stomach and intestines of Tutankhamen, his “heart and reins” being left in his body.
From the cultural point of view the most interesting articles of furniture found in Tutankhamen’s tomb are the three lofty couches fashioned in grotesque shapes to represent conventionalized animals, cow, lion, and hippopotamus respectively. Although such couches are thoroughly Egyptian in design and are familiar in pictures from Egypt and the Soudan, they have never been seen before. They are worth discussing in some detail, because they express the concreteness and naïvety of Egyptian belief mentioned in the last chapter in a way that brings home to us the essential distinction of the religion of the ancient dwellers in the Nile Valley.
The problem of getting to heaven after death was approached by the Egyptian theologian as though it were essentially a physical proposition. How was the dweller upon earth to reach the world in the sky? What vehicle could he employ to reach the celestial realms? Speaking recently of Christian Englishmen in the twentieth century, Dean Inge is reported to have said that “a topographical heaven, so impossible scientifically, was so difficult to dispense with as an aid to the imagination.” But to the ancient Egyptian belief in such a topographical heaven was a cardinal article of faith, and the geography of the Elysian fields and the details of the path leading to it were mapped out with all the meticulous precision of a modern guide-book. The dead man was often provided with a chart to find his way along the path that teemed with difficulties and dangers.
But although there were scores of different devices for securing a safe transit to the celestial regions, there was one vehicle which from the very beginning of Egyptian history enjoyed a special reputation as the appropriate means of protecting the dead and conferring life and immortality upon him by conveying him to the other world. The Celestial Cow Hathor not only conferred life upon mortals by giving them birth: she also sustained them throughout life by giving them the divine milk, and at death she conveyed them to the sky.
In the famous inscription upon the walls of the tomb of Seti I, to certain passages of which I referred in the last chapter, there is a remarkable story of the function of the Divine Cow Hathor or Nut as a means of raising the dead king to the sky to reach the home of the gods. After being rejuvenated by the goddess the king became oppressed with the boredom of life upon earth amongst his tiresome subjects, who had shown their disloyalty to him by referring to his old age and failing powers. So he decided to leave the earth and proceed to the sky. Hence he mounted upon the back of the cow and got to heaven, where he assumed his godhead by becoming identified with the sun.
This function of the cow in acting as a vehicle to convey the mummy to its celestial home is one which was repeatedly depicted in the ancient Egyptian monuments. But the cow’s solicitude for the welfare of the dead was frequently shown in other ways. A favourite motif for the Egyptian sculptor was the representation of the Divine Cow, Hathor, protecting the dead king or permitting him to obtain an elixir of life by drinking milk from her udder. In his book Egyptian Art (1913) the late Sir Gaston Maspero devotes to this subject a whole chapter (XI) illustrated with six beautiful photographic plates of such cow-statues ranging from the time of Amenhotep II (1440 b.c.) to more than a thousand years later. But we know that the protective function of the Cow Hathor was portrayed in other ways as early as the time of the Pyramid-builders (for example, the beautiful slate statuettes found by Professor Reisner in the Pyramid Temple of Mykerinus of the fourth dynasty, about 2800 b.c.), and the still earlier representation of her upon the slate palette of King Narmer of the first dynasty, about 3400 b.c. For several reasons this palette is a historical document of unique importance. Engraved upon it is the earliest example of writing that has come down from antiquity: but it is of interest in connexion with the discussion in this chapter. For at the upper corners of the palette the cow-headed Hathor is depicted and as a further protection the king wears upon his belt four cows’ heads (Fig. 18) in place of the cowrie amulets of more primitive peoples.
Fig. 17.—Cow carrying a dead man to heaven.
The Celestial Cow, Hathor, was a divinity of the dead, for she was the Giver of Life who was supposed to be able to prolong existence beyond the grave, and as she was also identified with the sky she became the appropriate vehicle to convey the dead to the celestial regions where the sun-god dwelt.