The first female name that attracts attention in the Sixth Dynasty is that of Queen Shesh, mother of the king Tete or Pepe. This name occurs in the Hindoo mythology as that of the king of serpents. Whether she showed the wisdom attributed to the serpent or not may be questioned. At any rate we do not find her occupied with matters of state; essentially her interest lay in domestic affairs, but, even so, her name has come down to posterity. She invented a world-famed pomade, since, after the lapse of centuries, we can still read of it. The usual ingredients were the tooth of a donkey boiled with dog’s foot and dates; but the royal lady struck out boldly and substituted the hoof for the tooth of the former beast. And who knows the saving virtues or beautifying qualities of this compound, which perhaps entitled her majesty to the honors of a Lydia Pinkham, a blessing to all her sex.
In the Sixth Dynasty were several kings of the name of Pepi or Pepy, and the long reign of one of them, Pepi-Merira, is much celebrated. According to the Greeks, it lasted a hundred years. Of his first wife, Antes, we know nothing but her name; perchance she died early, and probably bore no sons. His second wife and queen, Merera-Ankes, is more noted; even the names of her parents have been preserved. Her father Khua, her mother Neke-bit, and her two sons, Merenra and Nofer-ka-ra, while among the more extensive ruins is a tomb at Abydos, the last resting place of this queen.
To “go to Abydos” was the equivalent of speaking of a death. It was the sacred place of the Egyptians, the tomb of Osiris, around which the Isis and Osiris legends gathered; where Mena of This, the founder of Memphis, and all the succeeding monarchs of his dynasty were buried. The Step pyramid at Sakkarah, said to be the oldest, is thought to belong to the First Dynasty, Medoom to the Third, and Gizeh to the Fourth. The Fifth Dynasty seems to have been priestly. The oldest dated papyrus of this period was, in 1893, found at Sakkarah, while the figure of Menkahor was found at the Serapeum. The Sixth Dynasty was said to be more limited in power, and some of the minor principalities to have recovered their independence, while in the latter part of the time civil strife broke out, and it was followed by a new race till the Eleventh, though some of the native princes are believed to have still ruled at Memphis.
But to return to the queens. One authority speaks of Queen Amitsi, “great spouse of the king,” and her mother, the Princess Nibit, who, of royal blood, transmitted rights to her daughter, which would have made her heir to the throne in the early part of the Sixth Dynasty. The brief mention of this queen and of Queen Merera-anknes are not altogether reconcilable, but may perhaps apply to the same person. Queen Merera-anknes is said not to have been of royal blood, or if it be the same lady her claim to high lineage probably came from the mother’s side. Whatever her origin, she was evidently well appreciated, since even the names of her relatives were preserved. She at first bore some other cognomen, but after coronation adopted that by which she is known in history, and which couples, in a measure, her own and her husband’s. The inscription on her tomb—on the tablet on which is a figure of Pepi—reads “royal wife of Merira, great in all things, companion of Horus, mother of Meren-ra.” There can be little doubt that she was specially devoted to the service of the gods, and the priests were glad to hand down in laudatory inscriptions her name and fame to later generations.
There is a mention of Pepi-Merira who “executed works to Hathor” at Denderah, a temple which shows traces of the hand of various kings from the earliest to the latest period. The end of this reign was also distinguished by a festival inaugurating a new period of years, called “Hib-set, the Festival of the Tail,” on the principle, perhaps, on which the close of college exercises is called “Commencement,” in which we may be sure Queen Merari-Anknes bore a distinguished part.
The eldest son, Meren-ra, succeeded his father, but him also his mother survived, for in the reign of the second son, Nofer-ka-ra, she takes a prominent position, if not a distinct share in the government, and her name on the monuments seems to occupy as important a place as does that of the king.
A sort of Nestor among these royal personages was a certain Una, or U’ne, a favorite minister of more than one of the sovereigns. He was highly trusted and employed on various important embassies. His records, saved from destruction, form a valuable link in the historic chain. He speaks of Pepi in terms now used by the faithful of the Pope, as “his Holiness.” He chronicles foreign wars for the extension of territory, expeditions in search of stone and other materials for the usual duty and pleasure, the building of the king’s tomb; and last, perhaps most interesting of all in connection with the queens, the private trial of one of these rulers. Entese, queen of one of the Pepys, was the person in question. The king evidently wished not to spread the scandal, whatever it might be, and Una and one other official were alone present. It is the autobiography of this somewhat voluble minister which gives us the fragment of the story, that, like many others, lacks its termination. Perhaps he did not dare to write the conclusion; perhaps that part of the work has disappeared, or perhaps when the matter ceased to include himself he lost interest. We wish, if our final supposition is correct, that this had not been the case, and we wish also that, knowing so much, we knew a little more; whether the lady was found innocent or guilty, and whether she was forgiven or met with a tragic fate.
Says Una: “When the lawsuit was conducted secretly in the royal household against the great consort, Entese, his Majesty ordered me to appear to conduct the proceedings—I alone, no chief judge, nor governor, nor prince was present—I alone, because I was agreeable and pleasant to the heart of his Majesty, and because his Majesty loved me. I myself, I compiled the written report—I alone and one single judge belonging to the town Nechent. Yet formerly my office was only that of a superintendent of the royal anterior country, and no one in my position had ever in earlier times heard the secret of the royal household. I alone was excepted; his Majesty allowed me to hear them, because I was more agreeable to the heart of his Majesty than all his princes, than all his nobles, and than all his servants.” The sentences are fairly spangled with “I’s,” all other capitals being in abeyance. He quite hugs himself, does the good Una, over his virtues and his honors. He has caught something of the self-glorifying spirit which distinguished so many of the sovereigns. The other judge does not seem to count for much; the queen herself is rather in the background. Yet the naivete of this old world reporter—like that quality in all ages—is not without its charm.
We are reminded of Pepys in the seventeenth century and of Boswell in the eighteenth. “Boswell,” said Dr. Johnson, meeting the biographer on the street, “I have been reading some of your manuscripts. There is a good deal about yourself in them. They seem to me Youmoirs rather than Memoirs.” We laugh a little in our sleeves perhaps at this early Jack Horner, “who put in his thumb and pulled out a plum, and said what a good boy am I.” But we are grateful for the realistic pictures he gives us, and feel the touch of a common humanity which, the world over, from the beginning to the end of time, shows the same virtues and foibles, whatever its racial characteristics or its national individualities.
So the royal Vashti disappears into the shades and some happier Esther takes her place. Evidently Entese did not win the favor that did Queen Merari-anknes; no laudatory inscription on monument or tomb bears her name as companion of the gods.