Transcriber’s Note: The original copy of this book wasn’t very well
proofread, if at all. A large number of printing errors have been
corrected, including transposed full lines of text. In one place (noted
below) at least one line was omitted completely: it wasn’t possible to
source another edition to check what the missing words might have been.
The spelling and hyphenation of Egyptian names are often inconsistent.




[Illustration: CLEOPATRA.]




                              PREDECESSORS
                              OF CLEOPATRA

                                   BY
                               LEIGH NORTH

                       _5 Drawings by G. A. Davis_

                             [Illustration]

                         BROADWAY PUBLISHING CO.
                                   AT
                           835 BROADWAY, N. Y.
                                  1906

                           Copyrighted, 1906.
                                   BY
                        BROADWAY PUBLISHING CO.,
                         _All Rights Reserved._




TO MY HUSBAND




INTRODUCTION.


In attempting even a brief and imperfect outline of the history of
Egyptian queens the author has undertaken no easy task and craves
indulgence for its modest fulfillment. The aim has been merely to put
the little that is known in a readable and popular form, to gather from
many sources the fragments that remain, partly historic, partly
legendary, of a dead past. To present—however imperfectly—sketches of
the women who once lived and breathed as Queens of Egypt, which has
been more ably and completely done—as the period was less remote and
the sources of information fuller, for their royal sisters of other
lands.

A short article published some years ago in Lippincott’s Magazine may
be said to be the nucleus of the present volume, the writer’s interest
in the subject having been awakened by the study necessary to its
preparation.

We enter a house through the portico or vestibule. We form
acquaintances on somewhat the same principle. We begin perhaps with the
weather, we exchange comments on trifles, we pass through an
introductory stage of intercourse before we reach the real heart of the
man or woman who, in time, becomes our dearest friend. Skip the
introduction if you will, busy reader, but metaphorically it forms the
portico or vestibule of the Egyptian House.

From the darkness which envelopes the centuries modern research has
brought to light much that was unknown or forgotten. With almost the
creative touch it has made the dry bones to live again and link by link
drawn out the long chain of the years. What was once a mere roll of
names with a wide hiatus here and there has grown to be a record of the
words and deeds of men of like passions with ourselves. We feel once
more in touch with the past, as it is the aim of the highest altruism
to beat responsive to the heart of the present and the by-gone faces
look forth by the side of modern man and claim the universal
brotherhood.

Well may we marvel at the faith, the patience, the ingenuity which
has unraveled so much of the tangled skein in “The Story of the
Nations.” Like Cuvier, from a single bone elaborating a whole animal,
the Egyptologist has patiently evolved from shreds of parchment, from
fragments of pottery, from broken plinth and capital a more or less
complete whole. He has woven a tapestry from which some of the figures
start forth with a lifelike vigor.

Few countries claim such antiquity as Egypt and of none were the
estimated dates more widely apart. Sometimes involving periods of
hundreds and thousands of years. An accumulation of difficulties meets
the student as it does the explorer. A cycle of time, beside which
modern life seems like a single breath. A language, at first
indecipherable, and even now imperfectly read. The hasty guesses of
scholars anxious to prove some point or be in the vanguard of
discovery; broken monuments, rifled tombs, and inscriptions, mutilated,
erased and altered by the monarchs of succeeding generations. Among all
these difficulties lies the way. But with patience and care we are
rewarded and with “imagination for a servant,” not a master, one
“arrives,” as the French say (at least in a measure), at last.

The list of authorities consulted by the author would be too long to
enumerate, but among them may be mentioned Rawlinson, Wilkinson,
Maspero, Erman, Ebers and later Edwards, Sayce, Petrie and Mahaffy,
whose interest is so absorbing and the researches of some of whom are
of such recent date. To these may be added the study of all available
pictures and photographs, and the experiences of late travel and
travellers.




CONTENTS.


    INTRODUCTION                            i

                  CHAPTER ONE.

    The Black Hand                          1

                  CHAPTER TWO.

    The Queen                              15

                 CHAPTER THREE.

    Mertytefs                              26

                  CHAPTER FOUR.

    Nitocris                               42

                  CHAPTER FIVE.

    Sebek-Nefru-Ra                         57

                  CHAPTER SIX.

    Aah-Hotep                              74

                 CHAPTER SEVEN.

    Aahmes-Nefertari                       91

                 CHAPTER EIGHT.

    Hatshepsut                            110

                  CHAPTER NINE.

    Hatsheput—concluded                   125

                  CHAPTER TEN.

    Maut-a-mua                            142

                 CHAPTER ELEVEN.

    Tyi                                   157

                 CHAPTER TWELVE.

    Tyi—continued                         174

                CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

    Nefertiti                             187

                CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

    Tuaa                                  205

                CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

    Nofutari-Minimut                      218

                CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

    Ur-Maa-Nofur-Ra                       235

               CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

    Tausert                               253

                CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

    Succeeding Queens                     265

                CHAPTER NINETEEN.

    Succeeding Queens—continued           281

                 CHAPTER TWENTY.

    Daily Life                            299

               CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.

    Persian Queens                        312

               CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

    Roxane                                335

              CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

    Ptolemy Queens                        348

              CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.

    Arsinoe II.                           362

              CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE.

    Ptolemy Queens—continued              385

               CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX.

    Ptolemy Queens—continued              396

              CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.

    Ptolemy Queens—continued              407

              CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.

    Cleopatra VI.                         421

              CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.

    Cleopatra VI.—continued               432




Predecessors of Cleopatra.




CHAPTER FIRST.

THE BLACK LAND.


Kem, “the Black Land,” in hieroglyphic, or Kemi, in the later and more
familiar demotic, was so called from its dark and fruitful soil, a
loam, which turned up freshly, after a recent inundation of the Nile,
has, as one traveller describes it, “a brown and velvety lustre.”

Through it winds and flows the great river of which Homer speaks as
“Egypt’s Heaven descended stream” and that more than any other has set
its stamp upon the country and its inhabitants. So potent for weal or
woe is it that one scarce wonders it was worshipped as a deity, and the
Arabs call it “El Bahari,” the sea. It is difficult to find the word
travel in their language, with the Egyptian it is always up and down
stream. From the river he drew the fish which formed part of his daily
food, its fructifying waters, spreading over the land, called forth
abundant harvests, and from the mud on its banks he built the hut in
which he lived, or manufactured the bricks for the construction of his
tomb or other more ambitious edifice. The rushes that grew beside it
furnished his writing material, and its muddy or turbid water, as a
beverage, had for him the charm of a crystal rill.

Leigh Hunt says of the Nile:

    “It flows through old hushed Egypt and its sands
    Like some grave mighty thought threading a dream;
    And times and things as in that vision seem
    Keeping along it their eternal stands.”

The Nile has been said to be less like a river than a sinuous lake with
islands and sand-bars interspersed.

The sacred name of the Nile was “Hapi, the Concealed.” The early
Egyptians believed that its source was in fountains, bottomless and far
away, and the tears of the goddess Isis caused its ebb and flow. The
explorations of comparatively modern travellers have solved the mystery
of its being, and to-day we know that it springs from great lakes which
their discoverers named respectively, Victoria and Albert Nyanza.

Of the three great rivers, the Nile, the Mississippi, and the Amazon,
the first is the longest, the second has the largest number of
ramifications, and the third the greatest volume of water.

A Nilometer, a pillar standing in a pit, chronicles the rise of the
tide, and great festivities attended the opening of the canals which
were dug in all directions to carry its beneficent stream. A human
victim was sacrificed to appease the river god. A young girl was each
year dedicated to this purpose. Bound to a stake, adorned with flowers,
and hailed as “Aruseh, the bride of the Nile,” she stood and watched
the on-coming flood which was to shut out for her the light of day.
Perhaps it was in the terror with which the bounding pulses of youth
must ever regard the great Destroyer. Perhaps with the heroic spirit
of a martyr she awaited her fate, glorying in it and giving herself up
a willing sacrifice, as the Hindoo woman is said occasionally to have
done in the Suttee, when she cast herself on the funeral pile of her
husband.

It was a Mohammedan general who put an end to this annual tragedy and
refused to permit the usual offering. The river delayed its rising, and
the murmurs of the people waxed loud against him. In this dilemma he
appealed to the Kadlif Omar, he who destroyed the Alexandria library,
saying that if it agreed with the Koran it was useless to preserve it,
and if it differed it was pernicious. But in this matter he showed
himself larger-minded. He obligingly wrote a letter which was cast into
the water and ran thus: A. D. 640, “From Abd Allah Omar, Prince of the
Faithful, to the Nile of Egypt. If thou flow of thine own accord, flow
not, but if it be Allah, the One, the Mighty, who causeth thee to flow,
then we implore Him to make thee flow.”

The prayer was successful and the inundation began. Henceforth a mud
pillar, originally no doubt in human form, and still called “the Bride
of the Nile,” was substituted for a trembling maiden, and melted away
before the encroaching stream. At the inundation the land looks like a
marsh, the towns, etc., being just above the level of the water, and
even now the crier announces the rise of the current.

The juncture of the White and Blue Nile shows the difference in the
tint of the water for some time after. The Nile has no tides. The dews
are heavy in Lower Egypt and the nights cool and refreshing, while the
temperature is, as a rule, most agreeable. From the low, long, level
shore and with a coast line much the same as three thousand years ago,
we follow the river through a fertile valley, which in time narrows
between mountains and table-lands of sand. At the cataracts the stream
surges and swells round little rocky islands and the rapids cause
navigation to be difficult if not dangerous.

The Delta, so called from its resemblance to the Greek letter, is a
level plain, highly cultivated, varied by lofty dark brown, ancient
mounds, on which villages are often built, surrounded by palm trees.
The Greeks and Romans divided Egypt into the Delta, or Lower Egypt,
and the Thebaid or Upper. The rocks are generally of limestone, till
one reaches Thebes, and then they are of sandstone, while at the
first Cataract red granite bursts through the sandstone. The granite
is yellowish or reddish, with no vegetation on the rocks. The drifts
of yellow sand are everywhere. In some parts the mountains are three
hundred feet high, and at Thebes they rise to four times that height.
On the eastern side they are close to the water, while on the western
they are further from the edge. What is called the Fayum is a fertile
tract in the hollow of the desert, while at the furthest extremity is a
lake of brackish water.

Upper Egypt is bounded by mountains, through which the river has cut
its way, their height overshadowing it, but not rising into sharp
peaks. It is narrow and cultivated. From the mouth of the Nile to the
first cataract is six hundred miles of fertile valley, and it is said
that the scenery of the first cataract resembles nothing but that of
the second.

The beauty of Egypt is in its coloring. The small proportion of green
is compensated for by its intensity. Over the velvet soil hangs a sky
of turquoise blue, the sand sparkles like precious stones and the clear
air is luminous. “The land where it is always afternoon” might almost
be named the golden land. The traveller with the poetic or enthusiastic
temperament revels in the delicate variety of its hues. He sees the sun
turning the sands to gold, the river reflecting the sky, the blue lotus
blossoms and the reeds, the picturesque buffaloes standing in the water
with sleepy blue eyes and the vivid green of wheat fields. Another
describes the rusty gold of the Libyan rocks, the paler hue of the
driven sand slopes, the warm mauve of the nearer Pyramid, which from a
distance is a tender rose, like the bloom of an apricot, in delicate
tone against the sky. Low on the horizon, soft and pearly tints, blue
and luminous at the zenith, while opalescent shadows, pale blue and
violet and greenish grey, nestle in the hollows of the rocks and curves
of the sand drifts. Lakelike plains, with palm groves and corn flats,
relieve the glowing distance. Even in the moonlight one seems to see
the color.

From the top of the Pyramids the valley of the Nile looks like a
carpet of rich green, the groves of palm trees like figures woven in
deeper tints. Another speaks of the palms as sculptured in jasper and
malachite against the rosy evening sky.

A sense of rest and tranquillity pervades the mind.

    “Straight in his ears the gushing of the wave
    Far, far away did seem to mourn and rave.”

Even the conscience slumbers. But the prosaic traveller hurries through
all with unseeing eyes. Like the tourist who visited Cologne and
was too sleepy to get up and look at the Cathedral, he gapes at the
Pyramids, viewing them perhaps as “warts on the face of creation,” and
sees no glory in the heavens, no beauty in the earth, the story of the
ages has no charm for him.

Long before “Once upon a time,” if such a period can be conceived of,
the great monuments were raised, the colossal temples were built, which
have been the wonder of all succeeding centuries, and yet still back
of and beyond that, stretching away to the confines of Eternity, we
picture to ourselves the land as it then was, without these marvels
of Art, when Nature ruled supreme. Then as now the plains stretched
out, the yellow cliffs rose against the azure sky, the desert spread
afar, the purple cloud of the simoom hovered over it. The sun sank in
splendor of violet, rose and gold, the torn and ragged sides of the
mountains poured down their torrents of shining sand, the fissures
burning with a crimson lustre. The splendor passed and ashy paleness
followed; then a second paler but intense yellow hue, ere the stars
shone out. And ever the Nile calm and unruffled swept on with its
eternal flow, while the air breathed balm. Sometimes the waters
gained, sometimes the sand. The byblos or papyrus, now almost extinct,
abounded; along the waters edge forests and reeds, later destroyed,
were plentiful, and wild bear, hippopotami and crocodiles whose ancient
haunts know them no more, roved freely. The lakes abounded with fish,
pelicans and ducks lived on the shores, and turtle doves brooded on the
palm trees. The language of Egypt has been changed once, the religion
twice, but the natural conditions remain steadfast.

Before Menes, the first king of whom any distinct record has yet been
recovered, man, civilized man, possessed the earth. In tracing the
course of Egyptian history we never, as with many other nations, seem
to reach primeval humanity. Like Minerva, springing ready armed from
the brain of Jupiter, the earliest Egyptian known is in a measure
civilized. The wild savage, who develops into the more perfect
man, exists in theory, but we cannot lay our hand upon him. Some
authorities, as Professor Petrie, attribute the beginning of Egyptian
civilization, as the Greeks found it, to Mesopotamian influences, and
think the conquering race came over the Red Sea and the conquered were
of the same general type as the Libyans of North Africa. But none of
these stories have yet been proved beyond the possibility of differing
opinion by other students. Strabo said “The Egyptians lived from
the first under a regular form of government, they were a people of
civilized manners and settled a well-known country.”

Claiming to be the most ancient of peoples the old story tells how the
Egyptians yet yielded their pretensions to the Phrygians. The king
caused a shepherd to bring up two children, nursed by a goat, and to
observe what word they first spoke. Running towards him they cried
“Beccos,” the Phrygian for bread, which decided the question, but the
wise mother goat perhaps considered they were but imitating her “ba-a!”

The early Egyptian believed that Osiris and Isis, brother and sister,
as also husband and wife, were the children of Seb (Saturn), and
Nepthys was the sister of Isis. The two were called “the incubators,”
who spread their wings over the mummy to impart new life, Isis,
represented as a female figure, wearing on her head the pshent or
crown of Upper and Lower Egypt, was the earth, the receptive one, was
regarded as the mother of all and held somewhat the position to the
Egyptians that Juno did to the Greeks. The Egyptians also believed that
the heavens were upheld by four pillars and that the stars were lamps
lighted therein at night. Osiris and Isis stood for the Nile and Egypt,
and Osiris was the sun’s power, the winter solstice, the birth of Horus
the summer solstice, the inundations of the Nile the autumnal Equinox.
His gods and goddesses were innumerable, their images existing for him
in the shape of various animals and birds, and, among royalties, the
ancestors were deified.

We of to-day thrust from us the thought of death, and live as much
as may be in the present. Not so the Egyptian, it pervaded his daily
life and it shared in his feasts and festivals. It rang in his
laughter, “Let us eat and drink for to-morrow we die!” and his favorite
occupation was the building of his tomb.

No other nation possesses such a variety of monuments, says one
writer. Their stone quarries were inexhaustible, their facilities
for transportation on the great river unlimited, and the sand and
the climate combined to preserve what the hand of man erected. Kings
pressed their signets on the mountains that the generations to come
might know of them and their power.

The sun and soil of Egypt, we are told, demands one breed of men
and will no other. The children of aliens die, and the special race
characteristics remain to the present day. The Fellah woman, in the
picture often seen, crouching beside the statue of an ancient king,
has the same contour of face, the same high cheek bones and nose,
and the same immutable expression. As the life rule of Egypt’s great
river changes not, year after year repeating the same history, so
the race shows the same characteristics, century after century.
She shares with China her changelessness. Like Japan, she has her
types of face, long, oval, slender, with heavy lidded eyes, and nose
characteristically depressed at the tip, with sensitive open nostrils,
the under lip slightly projecting, the chin short and square, with a
slim square shouldered figure. Or a lower, squatter type, belonging to
the plebeian, forehead low, nose depressed and short, face prognathous
and sensual-looking, the chin heavy, the jaw large, the lips thick
and projecting. Both exist on the earliest monuments and to our own
time. One writer thinks that the mummies differ from the Arabs of the
present day in having a better balance of the intellectual and moral
faculties. It is also said that in men the countenance is narrower than
in women. The forehead small and retreating, with a long large black
and well-shaped eye, a long nose, with a slight bridge, cheek bones
a little prominent, an expressive mouth, with full lips, and white
regular teeth, and a small round chin. The complexion of men a dark
brown, that of women olive to a pink flesh color. The women and girls
are slender, with small straight brows and close lashes on each lid,
which gives an animated expression to their almond-shaped eyes, the
use of kohl (sometimes said to be sanitary in its effects) enhancing
this. The forehead is receding, cheekbones high, the bridge of the nose
low, the mouth wide and thick-lipped. The peasantry are darker than the
townspeople and the color deepens from pale brown to bronze as you go
south.

Co-existent with, prior even, perhaps, to the pyramids is the great
Sphinx. Maspero believed that it dated before the time of Menes.
Battered, mutilated, time worn, yet rearing itself nobly still with
its majestic face in its tranquil grandeur, turned towards the East.
Towering sixty feet above one of the sand dunes, with a background of
yellow sand or sapphire sky, or whitening in the moonlight against
the starlit indigo heavens rises this colossal head and shoulders.
“Mutilated though it is,” says one traveller, “the changeless serenity,
the eternal repose of the noble countenance impresses and awes all
beholders.” The typical sphinx, a male or female head, with an animal’s
body, in the Greek “the strangler,” signifies intelligence or force.
It was a favorite form in architecture and sometimes the face was a
portrait of an existing king or queen. The great Sphinx is said, from
an inscription at Edfu, to represent one of the personifications of the
god Horus. It was designated as Horem Khou, “Horus on the Horizon,”
and bore the shape of a human-headed lion to vanquish Typhon (Set)
principle of evil, and turning East awaited the resurrection of his
father Osiris. As Horus was supposed to have reigned over Egypt, kings
took the name Horus, or “Golden Hawk.”

A picture of the Sphinx, by Elihu Vedder, is very impressive. The great
head looms skyward, the desert spreads around, the silence of Eternity
broods over all. A crouching figure, old and tattered, kneels before
it and lays his ear to the silent lips, as if to learn their hidden
secrets.

The land is rich in fruits and vegetables, but it has comparatively
few trees, and no great variety of flowers. Palms, sycamores, figs,
and accasias are among the most frequent of the former. Vegetables
are peas, lentils, leeks, onions, garlic, celery, cucumbers, carrots,
turnips, tomatoes, egg-fruit, peppers, etc. Fruits are melons, of which
the flesh is often a rich golden color, grapes, dates, almonds, figs,
pomegranates, apricots, peaches, etc. The lotus, now comparatively
rare, might once have been called the national, as it certainly was the
favorite flower. It was used at feasts and for decorations, and its
buds, blossoms and leaves were continually reproduced in architectural
designs. It was chiefly because the water lily bud opened its petals at
sunrise and closed them at sunset that the ancients held it sacred to
the sun. Pliny says: “It is reported that in the Euphrates the flower
of the lotus plunges into the water at night, remaining there until
midnight, and to such a depth that it cannot be reached with the hand.
After midnight it begins gradually to rise, and as the sun rises above
the horizon the flower also rises above the water, expands and raises
itself some distance above the element in which it grows.” “And it was
also through this peculiarity,” says another writer, “that Hankerville
proved that the Egyptians considered the lily an emblem of the world as
it rose from the waters of the deep.”

Other flowers include the rose, jassamine, narcissus, lily,
convolvulus, violet, chrysanthemum, geranium, dahlia, basil, etc.

The horse was not an early inhabitant—there were camels, elephants, and
cattle of special breeds, doves and other birds and many varieties of
fish. A number of animals were tamed in Egypt and some of them would
seem to us a singular collection of pets, lions, leopards, monkeys,
gazelles and even crocodiles, and, above all, cats were household pets,
as were the last two among the sacred animals.

Everywhere possible at the present day excavation is going on.
Seventy-five centimes a day was at one time the rate for the diggers
and fifty for the children who carried away the baskets of rubbish, the
food consisting of bread, water, a few dates, cucumbers or onions, and,
rarely if ever, any meat.

“The Nile shore,” says Bayard Taylor, “shows either palm groves, fields
of cane or doura, young wheat, or patches of bare sand blown from the
desert. The villages have mud walls and the tombs of Moslem saints
looking like white ovens. The Arabian and Libyan mountains sweep into
the foreground, the yellow cliffs overhang and recede into a violet
haze at the horizon, while the blue evening shadows lie on rose-hued
mountain walls.”

Life in the East moves more slowly, even in modern times, than in
the strenuous West. One traveller playfully remarks that one can
perceive in the face after a Nile voyage something of the patience and
resignation of the Sphinx, and another says that Egypt is the best
place in the world to rest, and recommends that one “go 600 or 700
miles up the Nile before the season opens and occupy a hotel alone.
You will find each day at least forty-eight hours long, and you will
think of nothing but Egyptian antiquities and Arabs, both of which are
wonderfully soothing to the tired mind.”

Egypt may be likened to a woman with coloring and charm, who surpasses
sometimes in attraction another of more beautiful and regular form. In
this land of golden light, of perpetual sunshine, lived and moved the
Egyptian queen. Different and yet the same as her sisters of to-day,
now she seemed a goddess in might and beauty, and again as the meanest
of her slaves, swayed by ambitions, torn by passions, swept by waves
of love and hate—a woman still. Each in turn played her little part on
the stage of life and passed beyond the curtain, leaving a few, and
but few, traces of her existence. Passed into “the land which loveth
silence,” the dim Amenti of the gods.




CHAPTER SECOND.

THE QUEEN.


Egyptian Queens! What a picture their name seems to call up of old time
splendors—of the light of Eastern skies, the soft breath of eternal
summer—of the great river Nile as a beneficent deity, of monuments and
palaces, gardens and waving palm trees—houses with gorgeous coloring,
of princes and slaves—all mingled on the tapestry of time!

In an age sometimes called “the Woman’s Era,” when woman has become
a subject of analytical study to herself and to man, it may be
interesting to turn from the varieties of the “New Woman” to the
very old. Even on the borderland of mythology she asserts a strange
individuality and is vitalized for us in the pages of history and
legend.

The Western woman on the stage of life is ever a prominent figure.
The Eastern has held a place in the background, giving glimpses only
of her real self, always a veiled form, with dark, shining eyes,
merely suggestive of beauty and charm. It may be matter of surprise,
therefore, to some, that in the most ancient of lands—or among the most
ancient of peoples, Eastern beyond dispute, woman held an almost modern
place. In this, in some respects, advanced civilization, religiously,
politically and socially she took her share in the world’s work and
pleasure, and was deemed, not the ignorant child or inferior of Semitic
lands, but the friend, the associate, the equal of man.

The Queen was the companion of her royal spouse, not his mere slave and
toy. From the time of the Second Dynasty she frequently ruled, as the
king’s guardian in youth, as regent in his absence, or as independent
sovereign after his decease, or in right of heredity. The succession
was continued on the maternal equally with the paternal side, and it
was at times through the female, and not through the male parent, that
the king traced his right to the throne.

Among the nobility also the same custom, to a degree, obtained. The
son of the eldest daughter was sometimes the heir. Thus we read in the
time of Sneferu of his “great legitimate daughter, Nefret-Kari,” and
her son was “High Treasurer.” In the hieroglyphic system after female
appellations, such as queen, wife, mother, daughter, and the like, the
figure of a seated woman appears usually on a modest stool.

On the monuments the queen is always treated as an official personage,
she shares the king’s honors and her name, like her husband’s, is
enclosed in a cartouch. We know more of her public than of her private
life.

As a rule, to which there were exceptions, the king had but one legal
wife, of high or royal birth, the daughter of “the god,” as the late
king was called, and hence she was in many instances, in the strange
Egyptian fashion, her husband’s sister. One needs surely a different
standard from the Christian to judge of the morals of Egypt. The
marriage of a brother and sister, so abhorrent to our ideas, was
frequent in the Royal Family, nor does nature herself, at that period,
seem to have set upon it the same mark of disapprobation that one
might expect. It began in the heavens with the gods, who, according to
Egyptian mythology, did not dwell on earth, and why should not humanity
follow their example. Osiris and Isis were both brother and sister,
husband and wife. Nor could the gods any more than men get on without
magic. Even the statues of the former wore amulets as a protection
against evil and death, and used mystic formulae to constrain each
other. Isis was above all the mistress of magic and famous in
incantations.

To her royal spouse the queen is spoken of as “thy beloved sister who
fills the palace with light,” or “thy sister who is in thine heart, who
sits near thee at the feast,” or “thy beloved sister with whom thou
dost love to speak.” A love song in which the woman seems the wooer is
preserved and we give one stanza.

    “Thou beloved one my wish is to be with thee as thy wife;
    That thy arm may lie upon my arm.
    Will not my elder brother come to-night?
    Otherwise I am as one who lies in the grave.
    For art thou not health and light?”

The other ladies of the harem are also occasionally called sisters.
“Sutem Mut” was the Royal Mother, “Sutem Hempt,” the Royal Wife. Under
the old empire the queen was spoken of as “she who sees the gods,
Horus and Set (that is possessor of both halves of the kingdom), the
most pleasant, the highly praised, the friend of Horus, the beloved of
Ra, who wears the two diadems.” In the New Empire she was designated
as “the consort of the god, the mother of the god, the great consort
of the king.” She was eligible to all but the highest offices of the
priesthood and held forth or played the sacred sistrum to the gods,
sometimes dedicating herself to one deity, while her husband served
another, and she deemed it the greatest honor to be called “the
concubine of the god.”

All women desired the name of Hathor, Isis, the goddess of Love and
Fecundity, as in the Middle Ages the name of Mary, the mother of
Christ, was specially cherished. Other popular names under the Old
Empire signified “Beautiful,” “Strong,” etc. Under the new we also find
“Beautiful,” and in addition the names of trees, somewhat in Japanese
fashion, with their “Cherry Blossom” and “Plum Blossom,” as “Beautiful
Sycamore,” or, hardly admirable in the eyes of the Greeks or ourselves,
“Large Headed,” which some of their coiffures and head ornamentations
seemed to suggest.

The sons and daughters of the late king were always called the children
of the god. The education of both was conducted by the most learned
men of the kingdom, frequently priests, and this tutor was spoken of
as the “nurse.” The custom of entrusting the royal ladies to such
severe training reminds us of the preceptors and studies of Queen
Elizabeth and Lady Jane Grey. The queen held property in her own
right. At one time the revenues from the fisheries of Lake Moeris were
appropriated to her. A talent a day, or upwards of 700 pounds a year.
Also the returns from certain cities; as, for example, the taxes on
wines of the city of Anthylla, were a queen’s dowry for her dress, and
this privilege was continued to the queens of Persia after Cambyses
conquered Egypt.

After death, at least from the Eighteenth Dynasty, divine honors
were frequently paid to the queen, and especially was this the case
of Queens Aah-hotep and Nefertari, the ancestresses of the race of
kings who drove out and succeeded the Hyksos, the usurping rulers, and
restored Egypt to its native sovereigns.

The palaces were usually of brick, as the temples were of stone
adorned with gorgeously painted walls and furnished with carpets,
rugs of skin and ebony and ivory chairs and couches. The queen was
attended by slaves, and some favored maid or official bore beside her
a fan of ostrich plumes. She wore in later periods the double crown
of Egypt and presided beside the king at feasts, where men and women,
with unveiled faces (veiling being an introduction of the Persians),
enjoyed themselves together. They decorated each other with flowers,
which already in profusion adorned the drinking vessels, listened to
music and watched the dancing of female slaves, the feats of jugglers,
etc. Monkeys were sometimes trained to act as torchbearers, and we can
imagine the confusion occasionally engendered when one or another of
them, bursting, so to speak, the bands of conventionality, reverted
to his naturally mischievous impulses and cast his flaming torch into
the midst of the festivities. Lions, leopards, dogs, and the specially
sacred cats were all numbered among the pets.

The cat, it is said, was created in the ark, hence the Garden of Eden,
“where the comforts of home were incompletely organized,” lacked
that ornament of the domestic hearth. But by the Egyptians she was,
above all, valued and adored. They mourned for her as for a dear and
familiar friend, and woe to the man who, even by accident, compassed
her destruction. She is most pleasingly set forth by one who evidently
admired and appreciated her:

    “A little lion, small and dainty sweet
                  (For such there be),
    With sea-grey eyes and softly stepping feet,
                  She prayed of me.
    For this, through lands Egyptian far away,
                  She bade me pass;
    But in an evil hour I said her nay;
                  And now, alas!
    Far-travelled Nicias hath wooed and won
                  Arsinoe,
    With gifts of furry creatures white and dun
                  From over sea.”

Till the end of the Eighteenth Dynasty there was little change in
female attire. A fine linen garment, through which the limbs could be
plainly seen, extended from below the breast to the ankle, sometimes
supported by straps over the shoulders, and sometimes so narrow as to
require not even these. Colored robes were used less frequently. To the
man was left in those days, as to the male bird, the gayer plumage. The
woman contented herself with the use of oils and cosmetics, blackening
her brows and eyes, leaving her hair flowing, bound by a fillet, or
with braided locks, or a wig, and encircling arms and limbs with
innumerable chains and bracelets. The queen wore a royal head-dress,
with the asp, emblem of the sun-god Ra, over her forehead, and the
vulture, dedicated to Maut, mother of Isis, above. The golden disk is
said to be an emblem of the eternal sunshine, the entwining asp of
the winding Nile, and the outspread wings of Upper and Lower Egypt,
extending along the river.

Mrs. Stevenson mentions innumerable texts which refer to the god as
hidden in the disk, whilst a winged goddess makes light with her
feathers, with which light and heat are always associated. The mother
goddess of Thebes, Mut, in the shape of a vulture, spreads her wings
and says, “I cover thy couch and give life to die back of thy neck.”
And the mother of the sun-god at the moment of birth brings her own
life “to the back of his neck in flame.” The disk amulet was put
under a mummy to preserve the vital heat The winged disk, emblem of
heaven, was, in primeval times, conceived as a bird, which, under
its embodiment as the hawk, had come to dwell in the sun. “In the
Eighteenth Dynasty this symbol over monuments was supposed to guard
and protect, and played in Egypt the role that the winged bull of the
Assyrians played on the banks of the Euphrates.”

A poetic fancy has thus painted the queen:

    “Her form I know; in airless chambers
      Of vast old tombs it lives to-day;
    The quaint, stiff lines, the rigid posing,
      The vivid colors, fresh and gay,
    Of raiment striped and barred and fluted,
      And tasseled waist and sandaled feet,
    That lightly trod, in air and sunshine,
      The dust of some Egyptian street.

    Her face, I guess at line and color,
      Slow almond eyes, with sidelong glance,
    And full, calm lips, with curving corners,
      Just touched with sleepy scorn perchance,
    And straight, low brows, close bound for beauty,
      With beaten gold and burning gem,
    And the small asp, upreared for striking,
      Afront the quaint old diadem.

    So richly worn, so darkly splendid,
      Looks out her face from shadowland,
    Some night methinks I scarce should wonder
      To see a living presence stand
    Just in the shaft of light thrown dimly
      From this old swinging lamp—to hear
    A voice that speaks the tongue of Rameses
      Fall sweet and strange upon my ear.”

Pen, pencil, brush, and I may add imagination, have depicted for us the
royal surroundings. The reigning queen had, like all sovereigns, her
tasks to perform. Reports from all parts of the kingdom to receive,
the regulation of laws, the commerce and the domestic affairs of her
dominions. Luxury surrounded her, attendants and slaves waited upon her
bidding. Gold, silver, precious stones and valuable stuffs composed her
furniture, her table-service and her attire. Scribes indited at her
dictation and royal papyrus bore the impress of her signet, upon which
vermilion was rubbed from a small cushion, while blue and a somewhat
different stamp was used in religious matters. She dwelt among columns,
statues and sphinxes, and, always adorned with flowers and jewels,
wore over her shoulders, when in the character of a priestess, the
leopard skin of the sacrificer. As special honor to any subject she
would bestow upon him a chain of gold and put a ring on his finger. Her
throne of ivory was sometimes said to have been so finely carved that a
breath would move the foliage represented upon it.

Such in general outline was the position of the Egyptian Queen. But
when we approach the individual the difficulties in the study of
personality are manifold. Frequently hundreds of years pass and no
queen’s name appears—the roll of dynasty after dynasty is searched in
vain. In most cases this is enhanced by many names being applied to
the same individual, as they are derived from ancient Egyptian, Greek,
Persian, or other sources. To this one adds what is called the “Ka”
name, a sort of religious addition to the original cognomen.

A parallel to all this might be found in the case of the Duke of
Argyle, date 1734, who was also known as John Campbell, MacCallum More,
and Ian Roy Cean. The titular, family, and by, or nick-name, signifying
“red-headed.” A person searching the archives of Scotland a thousand
years hence might be as bewildered in such a case as the Egyptian
student is now.

Different authorities give dates hundreds of years apart, different
names to the same person, and different spelling to the same name. Some
of the queens were taken for men, and only in later and more exhaustive
researches was their sex and position ascertained. Nor is this to be
wondered at, when the various parts of speech applied to them are of
the male gender. Yet here and there a fragment is discovered and we
learn something, at least, of many of them.

The partial list extends from the earliest times to the Roman period.
Late discoveries give us fragmentary remains from the First Dynasty,
but Mertytefs of the Fourth seems the first distinct personality, and
the roll, virtually beginning with her, ends with the last and most
celebrated Cleopatra. Two of these figures at least stand out with
wonderful clearness, the great Hatasu, of the Eighteenth Dynasty, and
this same Cleopatra, and while of many others we know much less, we in
some cases possess their veritable jewels and ornaments, and in others
their actual mummies.

We are working, as it were, to restore a mutilated mosaic. Some of the
pieces are altogether gone, many others broken and discolored. From
here and there we gather a fragment for our task of restoration. They
may vary in shape, they may vary in tint, the recompleted whole is
diverse from the original, but it approximates—it gives us an idea of
what the perfect design has been, and with that, for the present, we
must rest content.




CHAPTER THIRD.

MERTYTEFS.


Year by year the patient research of the archeologist unearths new
discoveries, confirming or contradicting those already made, and
translating, as it were, into actual fact much that had previously been
considered legendary. And still, year by year, till the whole history
is laid bare, the process is likely to continue. Comparatively late
discoveries at Abydos have converted the mythical kings of the First
Dynasty into real human beings, living and dying thousands of years
ago. Their burial places have been found, and Menes, Aha-Mena, is no
longer a suppositious, but a real character. Weapons, furniture, vases,
drinking vessels, jewelry, etc., with the names of various kings upon
them, have been dug up and may now be seen at Abydos, in the University
Museum in London, in that of the University of Pennsylvania, and in
other places.

Among these we come upon the first memorial of a queen. From out of
the darkness of the centuries stretches forth a woman’s arm laden with
bracelets, and tells of the common humanity which unites us. It is thus
described: “The most important piece of gold work discovered consists
of the bracelets of the Queen of Zer. The queen’s arm had been broken
off long ago, when the tomb was originally plundered, and hidden in a
hole in the wall. There it had been overlooked alike by the builders
of the Osiris shrine, by the Coptic destroyers, and by the Arabs
employed by the French mission, until it was discovered by Professor
Petrie’s workmen, with the four bracelets in their original order. Each
is made in a different and somewhat elaborate design, partly in gold
and partly in beads of amethyst, turquoise or lazuli.” These “finds”
also include the tomb of a young girl, “Bener-Ab” (Sweet of Heart),
whom some fancied to be the daughter of Ment, which contained an ivory
figure dressed in flowing robes. And still another “find” includes some
plaited locks and a fringe of curly false hair.

The early Egyptian comes upon the historic stage very much decorated
as to head, very decollete as to garments. No Indian with war paint
and feathers was more elaborately gotten up. So that his peruke hung
in curled or braided locks about him, or, if of royal blood, he wore
his crown or double crown, all else seemed of minor importance. We can
imagine him lightly attired, treading the streets of modern London
and straying into the law courts, where he would encounter judges and
barristers in their wigs of office. Doubtless he would bow and touch
his head significantly, intimating that a common bond of taste united
them.

So important were these coiffures that one of the earliest offices
of which we find record is that of “Superintendent of Wigs and
Head-dresses,” and among the treasures of various museums are specimens
of these belongings of royalty.

Reproduced in almost every book on Egypt are those most ancient
portrait statues of General Ra-hotep and his wife, the Princess Nefert.
One authority assigns them to the Third Dynasty, and already the wig
was in full flow. The gentleman wears a comparatively modest head
covering, but the lady’s was of portentous size and thickness, falling
in curls on either side of her face, with its artless, unaffected
expression. Doubtless the fashionable world of that day thought the
wig gave “a presence”—as an English dame said of caps—to the wearer.
General Ra-hotep had married a lady of rank, of royal blood, his
superior in that respect, but both were deemed important enough to have
their massive statues cut, sitting in the usual ceremonial attitude,
bolt upright, the knees and feet closely pressed together. “A statue of
dignity culminating in a bust of beneficence.”

The Egyptian ideal was a studied dignity of posture. The Greeks, aiming
at the grace and beauty of nature, sculptured their figures in the
various attitudes of the human form, as also, in a degree, did the
Romans. While we see on coins and in old manuscripts the Saxon and
early Norman kings with knees and feet wide apart, and this also is the
ceremonial Chinese attitude.

But even with a formal prescribed position of the figure the early
Egyptian faces were evidently true to nature to an extent not the case
in later times. There is an individuality about them which makes us
feel that we see a truthful personification. In the Old Empire the
realistic school is found side by side with conventional art. In the
Fourth Dynasty especially we see conventional figures and portrait
heads, while in the Fifth all is more natural. To this last belongs
the fine limestone statue of a scribe now in the Louvre. A slender but
powerful figure, square in the shoulders, with slight legs and long,
flat feet, seated in an Oriental manner and writing on a parchment
unrolled on his knee. The flesh tints a pale red, a false beard, bronze
for the brows, eyes enamelled alabaster and crystal, and a nail for the
pupil.

Another portrait statue of great celebrity is that of the “wooden
man” reproduced in a plaster cast in almost every museum. It is half
life-size, probably the foreman of a gang of laborers, is called “Ra
Emka,” and was found at the Sakkarah pyramid. Its age has been said to
be six thousand years. It had originally eyes of opaque white quartz,
pupils of rock crystal, bronze eyelids, and arms made separately,
with a staff of office in one hand, and was once covered with linen,
plastered and painted. The Arabs called it “Sheikel Belel, or Belud,”
“Village Chief.” A mutilated statue of his wife was found beside him,
only the head and trunk being entire. The face was of the common
Egyptian type, with rather a peevish expression, in contrast to the
husband’s more urbane and amiable look. Statues of a certain Sepi and
his wife, attributed to the Third Dynasty, are also in the Louvre.

The outline of the physiognomy of General Ra-hotep and Ra-Emka are not
unlike in type. The Princess Nefert has buff flesh tints, her husband’s
are somewhat darker, and both have the crystal eyes which impart such a
lifelike appearance. A dignified and portly pair, who gaze steadily out
above the head of the sight-seer in the Gizeh museum. This collection,
first gathered at Boulak and later removed to Gizeh, is the youngest
but the richest in portrait statues of private individuals. Most are in
what is called the hieratic attitude, with the left arm close to the
body, the left hand holding a roll of papyrus, the right leg advanced,
the right hand raised, as if grasping a staff, or perhaps, as at the
Resurrection, holding the Book of the Dead. With Menes the first
distinct record of dynasties begins, so far as yet discovered, and
mooted points remain for the student as to which reigned simultaneously
and which in succession. The first two dynasties were Thinites, from
Tini, Greek This, near Abydos, in Upper Egypt, seat of the worship
of Osiris, where their tombs and various remains, as above referred
to, have been found. One of the most ancient is a fragment of jewelry
bearing the name of Mena, who is said to have founded Memphis, to have
turned aside the course of the river to build his city, to have reigned
sixty-two years, and, finally, to have been killed by a hippopotamus
or crocodile. Zer, or Teta, understood medicine and wrote astronomical
books; of others it is said that one wrote the sacred books, another
introduced animal worship, and another was a giant. Of this first
dynasty there seem to have been some seven or eight kings.

As early as the Second Dynasty, under Binothris, a law was passed
admitting women to sovereignty, and thereafter, from time to time, as
guardian, regent, or independent ruler, a woman held sway. As goddesses
above, so the woman below had her share of authority. The queen by
incantations protected the king when in his priestly robe he offered
sacrifices, played the sistrum (a sort of religious instrument) to
drive away evil spirits, offered libations, poured perfumes and cast
flowers. She walked behind the king in processions, gave audiences
with him and governed for him, as the goddess Isis for Osiris, in
his absence. The worship of the bull Apis, destined to so wide a
popularity, was also introduced in this dynasty.

No extended or separate account of the queens, with one or two
exceptions, can be found in the writers on Egypt, but here and there
we come across the mention of certain names and brief stories or
conflicting statements in regard to them. Several are spoken of by
Maspero in his account of these earliest times. But to Mertytefs or
Mertitifsi chiefly clings any sort of history which can vitalize her
for us. We read of Mirisonku, daughter of Kheops and sister and wife
of Khephren, of Mirtitifsi, of Khuit, of Miriri-ankh-nas, and of
Meri-s-ankh, of the Sixth Dynasty, worshipper of the gods. Another
writer gives Meri-s-ankh as the queen of Sneferu or Khafra, and Hentsen
as Kufu’s daughter, says that Hatshepset made scarabs of Menkaura,
and mentions a statue of Ra-en-usa, of the Fifth Dynasty. A stele in
Gizeh, found at Abydos and of the Fifth Dynasty, represents the royal
spouse Pepi-ankhnes and the “chef” Aou seated on each side of a table
of offerings. The city of This gave its name to the yet earliest known
kings, but Memphis, “The Haven of the Good,” was the great metropolis
in the time of Mertitefs.

Queen Mertitefs is said to have been first the wife of King Seneferu,
“the Betterer,” whose mother is given by one authority as Queen
Hapunimait. Mertytefs was, some say, of the Third, some of the
Fourth Dynasty. In a limestone group in the Leyden Museum (among the
oldest portrait statues in the world) sit the queen, the mysterious
Ka, which may be briefly described as the embodied spirit, and her
secretary, a priest named Kenun. Without a secretary or scribe no royal
personage’s list of attendants was complete. It was hardly the private
correspondence which occupied their time, as in later days, though the
habit of letter writing then existed, but so many items had to be noted
down. The queen and her Ka sit side by side, with black hair and buff
flesh tints just alike.

Seneferu, founder of the Fourth Dynasty, is the first king of whom we
have contemporary monuments, and the Fourth is sometimes called the
“pyramid dynasty.” During this reign the kingdom was prosperous, the
arts flourished, and foreign conquests were made. The king left a good
name, and was worshipped till the Ptolemaic period.

Diodorus stated that in the marriage contracts the wife was to control
her husband. Be that as it may, she was doubtless, as in modern times,
the ruler of the household. Mertytefs was young, some say fourteen,
and probably beautiful, when she married Seneferu, whom she survived,
and, possessing the usual charm of widows, she again married the Cheops
of Herodotus, the Khufu of Manetho, of whom a small ivory has been
recently found by Professor Petrie at Abydos, the builder of the Great
Pyramid. Marriette assigns the date 4234 B. C., and Brugsch 3733 B. C.
to this period, while Petrie gives from the time of the First Dynasty
to the Sixth 4777 B. C. to 3503 B. C. Some writers interpolate a
certain Ratatef, sometimes said to be the son, sometimes the brother of
Khufu.

The building of a pyramid as his sepulchre was one of the chief
occupations, might almost say the amusements or pleasures, of a king,
as the building of a house in modern times affords constant study and
entertainment to the constructor, and day after day he goes to watch
its progress. The thought of death had no terror for the Egyptians—to
the king it was simply a new world, peopled with gods and goddesses,
among whom he would take an honored place. His pyramid was the book,
the autobiography, often an illustrated one, that he published, filled
with accounts of his deeds and prowess and certain to give him name and
fame with posterity. The word pyramid is said to mean “king’s grave,”
and thus reveals its purpose.

So, slowly, under the eyes of Queen Mertytefs rose these gigantic and
marvellous structures. What matter, if the object were accomplished,
that hundreds of lives were sacrificed in the ceaseless and laborious
toil under a tropic sun. Herodotus says it took one hundred thousand,
Pliny three hundred thousand, men twenty years in the building. We
can imagine the queen from time to time going in state to view the
progress of the work and helping it on with her suggestions. Some
traditions tell that Khufu was specially tyrannical and cruel, and even
stopped praying to the gods to press on his great enterprise. The rock
testimony styles him brave and a conqueror.

“Egypt is the monumental land of the earth, as the Egyptians are the
monumental people,” says Bunsen. The history of Egypt goes, as it were,
against the stream; the earliest monuments are between Cairo and Siout,
in Lower Egypt, the latest temples in Nubia, Upper Egypt.

The pyramids, whose entrances pointed to the North star, and which
were perhaps two thousand years old when Abraham was born, looked
from a distance like isolated mountain peaks or faint blue triangles
outlined against the sky, and the clear air made them seem nearer than
they were. They occupied the whole horizon as one advanced beyond the
plain of tombs. “Anear,” says Miss Edwards, “a mighty shadow, sharp and
distinct, divided the sunlight where it fell, as its great original
divided the sunlight in the upper air and darkened the space it covered
like an eclipse—registering sixty centuries of history.” In the early
times the three large pyramids were probably almost central in the
embrace of the city, which stretched away westward from the Nile in “a
succession of gardens, squares, palaces and monuments, girdling the
lake with beautiful villages and climbing, with its terraces, grottoes,
shrines and marble pavilions, the very sides of the cliffs two leagues
from the Nile. From the top of the great pyramid of Cheops to-day one
views the broad domes and the minarets of Cairo, the hills beyond and a
palm grove on the site of ancient Memphis,” says Bayard Taylor. “Over
the rich palm trees the blue streak of the river and the plain beyond
you see the phantoms of two pyramids in the haze which still curtains
the Libyan desert. Northward, beyond the parks and palaces of Shoba,
the Nile stretches his two great arms towards the sea, dotted far into
the distance with sails that flash in the sun.” Many other pyramids
are in sight, while higher than St. Peter’s, Rome, St. Paul’s, London,
or the Capitol at Washington, the greatest of them, this enormous
structure of past ages still dominates the plain. A modern poet has
said of them:

    “Amid the deserts of a mystic land,
      Like Sibyls waiting for a doom far-seen,
    Apart in awful solitude they stand,
      With thoughts unending caravan between.”

Even then it was probably a magnificent city in which Queen Mertytefs
dwelt. Colossal gateways, with the disk and extended wings above,
pillars on which lights burned at night, avenues of sphinxes, palaces
along the river bank, columns with carved capitals, with the lotus in
bud and bloom, as well as other plants, and gorgeously painted shafts,
temples of red sandstone, with forests of pillars, lakes surrounded
with trees and flowering shrubs, oranges, scarlet pomegranates, olives,
figs, vines, and everywhere crowds of freemen and troops of slaves.

The Sphinx, previously sculptured, doubtless underwent some work of
restoration at this time, and is said by certain authorities to bear
the features of Chephren aggrandized, by others that it was in the
image of the god Harmachis. The Arabs named it “Abuthol, Father of
Terrors.” Its present state called forth from an illiterate voyager of
modern times the caustic remark, “They keep it in shocking repair!”
Maspero believed the Sphinx belonged to the period of the Horshesu,
“Followers of Horus,” chiefs of the clans gathered into one kingdom
under Menes.

The Book of the Dead, which laid down rules, as we may say, both for
the dead and the living, belonged to the Fourth Dynasty, and the
fragments of it which have descended to us are the source of much of
our information about this ancient land and people.

Besides the serious business of pyramid building, the kings and queens
had their amusements of other sorts. The harp and flute were known in
the Fourth Dynasty, and music, singing and dancing no doubt date from
the Garden of Eden. Dwarfs were favorite pets, and a story is told of
a frolic of King Seneferu’s, who, for diversion, kept a boat manned
with girls whose airy costumes consisted of network. Perchance he may
not have been so sober-minded a person as his successor in the queen’s
affections. Khufu built the Great Pyramid, and perhaps rebuilt the
temple of Isis near the Sphinx, also a temple at Denderah, added to
or restored later, first by Thothmes IV and afterwards by some of the
Ptolemies.

Mertytefs or Khufu’s sons and daughters are spoken of by Rawlinson,
and a daughter, Hents or Hentsen, was buried under a small pyramid
near her father. There is a tradition that he sold his daughter for
money to carry on the building of his pyramid, while she, sharing in
the profits, built one for herself. The king consecrated gold and
copper statues to Isis in honor of his daughter. Other stories tell
of treasures buried in the pyramids which were appropriated by the
sovereigns of other centuries.

Tutors, or “nurses,” as they were called, were appointed for the royal
children, and possibly the queen’s secretary, Kenun, may have held
this position. Record is made of a certain Shap-siska-fankhu, who was
governor of the “House of the Royal Children,” in the Fifth Dynasty.
Shafra or Khafra was thought to be son-in-law to Khufu and his wife;
Meri-ankh-s, or Meri-s-ankh, whose tomb is at Sakkarah, was a priestess
of the god Thoth. She was high in confidence and favor, and bore at
least two sons. Her husband, or another son of Khufu, was high priest
at Heliopolis.

Mertytefs was evidently a lady of great vigor, capacity and attraction,
for two reigns did not exhaust her powers, and under the succeeding
king, Kafra or Chafra, probably son-in-law or nephew, and builder of
the second pyramid of Gizeh, she still in a measure held sway. The
name signified “beloved of her father,” but she was evidently beloved
of fortune also, for her sun sinks in splendor as the “Administrator
of the Great Hall of the Palace,” where she had probably innumerable
slaves to oversee and do her bidding, “Mistress of the Royal Wardrobe”
and “Superintendent of the Chamber of Wigs and Head-dresses”—three
important offices. Yet are women of forty on the Nile said to be as
old as those of sixty in Europe. Not this lady surely, else were her
brilliant career briefly run. To account for this singular history
one commentator allows her a hundred and six years, another a hundred
and thirty. A lady’s age is always a mystery. Perhaps she never told
it, but “let concealment, like a worm in the bud, feed on her damask
cheek,” and after these lapses of centuries it may be we shall never be
set right on this point.

The statue of King Chefren, with his novel head-dress, serene
expression, and paucity of underwear, is familiar, but the upper class
figures were always more conventional, the lower more realistic. A
new king meant usually a new city, a new palace, and a new tomb, and
architecture flourished in these distant periods.

The duties of the Queen Dowager were doubtless arduous. “Administrator
of the Great Hall” probably included the direction and control of a
large retinue of servants and the preparations for feast and audiences.
“Mistress of the Royal Wardrobe” was perhaps a less onerous position,
owing to the brevity of the then fashionable costume. At some periods
men wore but two garments, women but one—a sort of narrow chemise of
fine linen, through which the limbs could be plainly seen, with or
without a strap over the shoulders. Another costume was a light skirt
with long shoulder straps and bound by a girdle, the ends falling in
front. Over this usually a full skirt of fine linen, with sleeves below
the elbows and broad skirt falling to the ground.

Both men and women adorned themselves with necklaces and bracelets,
and used stibium to darken under the eyelids—while the nails, hands
and feet were stained with henna, which gave them an orange tint.
Occasionally, also, an added decoration was a line drawn from the
corner of the eye to the temple. In the earliest times foot covering
was seldom worn indoors.

But to be “Superintendent of the Chamber of Wigs and Head-dresses”
could have been no sinecure. Wigs! Wigs! Wigs! We can imagine them
in the room devoted to them, on shelves, in boxes, and on stands.
Upon this department of his wardrobe the Egyptian spent much time
and care. With head closely shaven, and frequently the chin also
divested of all natural endowment, he had unlimited opportunity to add
what he considered improvement of an artificial character. He wore a
manufactured beard, caps of a striped material, and wigs made both
of human hair and sheep’s wool. The wigs consisted of rows of little
curls beginning at different points and cut round and square. The
shorter covered the head or neck, and the longer lay on the shoulders;
a wig in the Berlin museum shows both short curls and long. In other
instances braids and plaits were preferred to curls. The peculiarity
of the Egyptian head was a prominent back, and this doubtless had to
be considered in the shape of the wig selected. The pages who served
the king and queen in their private apartments often wore a crown of
natural flowers.

The women appear usually to have worn the wigs over their own hair,
which sometimes escaped below. It also hung down in two tresses on the
breast, and the young princes wore a side lock before the ear, as did
the youthful god Horus. So much pride did females take in their hair
that an especially fine lock was sometimes cut off and buried with them.

It was all deemed an important subject. A certain Shapsesre of later
time, superintendent at court, a wig-maker by profession, had four
statues of himself made for his tomb, each with a different style of
wig!

The king wore a sort of handkerchief, a cap, or a helmet. The white
crown of Upper Egypt was a curious, high, white, conical cap; that
of Lower Egypt was red, had a high, narrow back and a metal ornament
bent obliquely forward. They were, after a time, worn together. The
upreared uraeus or asp was the sign of royalty. The goddess Ra-nu was
represented with the asp which was worn by the queen, with the addition
of the vulture with drooping or outspread wings, the winged sum disk
and other costly head-dresses.

A great stele found at the pyramid of Gizeh is dedicated to the memory
of a princess who, after being a great favorite in the court of
Seneferu and Khufu, was subsequently attached to the private house of
Kafra, and her history seems to run strangely parallel with that of the
queen—if she herself be not intended.

Four or five thousand years before Christ are the dates assigned
to this period. We must grope and work somewhat at random in the
reconstruction of our mosaic. Yet does Queen Mertytefs stand out with a
certain lifelikeness. Imagination plays around her active figure, and
she looks out at us from the shadows, not with languorous, soft glances
and gentle movements, but with vivacity and power in her black eyes and
an attractive and capable face. None but a woman of power and capacity,
we may be sure, could have been “Administrator of the Great Hall.”




CHAPTER FOURTH.

NITOCRIS.


The Sixth Dynasty is illustrated by the name of Queen Nitocris. Famed,
and it may be fabled, the obliterating touch of the centuries has yet
spared something of her personality. The “most beautiful and spirited
woman of her time” is the record that comes down to us from very
ancient sources, and “rosy-cheeked” the epithet applied to her. She was
the last sovereign of her dynasty, but first we must glance at a few,
less noted, that preceded her.

Dynasty after dynasty was named according to the great cities of the
provinces, and to the Fifth by some, or by others to the Sixth, was
applied the term Elephantines, from the city of Elephantine, in Syene.
According to certain authorities, the First, Second and Third Dynasties
of Manetho were ruling at This, while his Fourth and Sixth held sway
at Memphis, and during a portion of the time his Fifth at Elephantine,
Ninth at Heliopolis and Eleventh at Thebes or Diospolis. It is almost
impossible to tell which of the families or monarchs were contemporary,
or which ruled in succession. To unravel this tangled skein of history
is beyond the sphere of the present work.

With Manetho’s Second and Fourth Dynasty we reach the testimony of
the monuments, which is perhaps the chief source of information. The
Egyptians painted everything but the hardest and most valuable stone,
and both brush and chisel have furnished something of our partial and
fragmentary story. Our princesses lived in a blaze of color, in radiant
sunshine, and amid rainbow tints, sheltered by walls “lined throughout
with Oriental alabaster and stained with the orange flush of Egyptian
sunsets.”

The winged sun disk, as a symbol, makes its appearance for the first
time on monuments of the Fifth Dynasty, a simple disk between two wings
inclining downward. Under the Sixth it was more conventionalized,
the wings were straightened out and the asp added. At one place Pepi
I appears protected on one side by a flying hawk and on the other
by a disk, evidently regarded as equivalent. To the Fifth Dynasty
also belong the precepts of Patah-hotep, which were found in what is
called the “Prisse” papyrus in Paris. “This,” says the script, “is the
teaching of the governor Patah-hotep, under his Majesty, King Assa—long
may he live.” This monarch appears to have been the first Pharaoh of
the Fifth Dynasty and the first who had the two names, the throne
and the ordinary name. The last, Unas, constructed a great truncated
pyramid, now called Mastaba, or “Pharaoh’s seat,” north of the pyramids
of Dahshour.

King Shepseskaf, near or at the close of the Fifth Dynasty, who had
been adopted by King Mencheres, gave to a highly favored page in his
household the hand of his eldest daughter, the Princess Maat-kha. Less
frequently than in modern times were foreign alliances sought, and thus
the husband often mounted to a higher rung on the social ladder, or
even to the throne itself, assisted by the hand of his wife.

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.

The ambition for larger territory and foreign wars seemed to stifle, as
it usually does, the artistic spirit, and few such marvels of sculpture
and portrait statues are attributed to the Sixth Dynasty as have made
the preceding the wonder of all following ages.

A woman’s name illumines this period, and with the beautiful Queen
Nitocris the dynasty comes to an end. Nitocris is not a usual name
in Egyptian history, but we find it occasionally mentioned there and
elsewhere. In later times it was borne by a daughter of Psammetic I,
whose sarcophagus is preserved. Some of the early writers on Egypt,
coming to conclusions hastily from insufficient data and previous to
the more modern discoveries, made a sort of composite photograph of
a queen by combining the brief history of several with some of the
more individual characteristics of the great Hatasu, and called it
Nitocris, but time has shown them to have been mistaken. Two traditions
exist—those derived from Manetho and those of the compilers from the
remains at Abydoh and Sakkarah and the author of the Turin papyrus.

Another celebrated queen of ancient history was called Nitocris, and
about her, too, the clouds of mist and fable enwreathe themselves. This
was Queen Nitocris of Babylon, who lived five hundred generations after
the warlike Semiramis. She turned the course of the Euphrates to make
navigation winding and difficult, that thus the city might be preserved
from the attacks of enemies. She ordered that she should be buried in
a chamber above one of the gates, through which for a long time after
none were willing to pass. She also promised treasure to the king who,
in great necessity and in straits only, should open her sepulchre, but
when at last Darius sought to avail himself of this he merely found an
abusive sentence for disturbing her.

The Egyptian Nitocris, according to Herodotus, who derived his
tradition from Manetho, lived 3066 years B. C., while to her dynasty he
assigned 206 years, but the Turin papyrus and other records disprove
this last. These dates, if bearing any relation to fact (for upon this
point authorities differ so widely), seem almost like the astonishing
figures with which the astronomer leads us from world to world in his
celestial researches, and our imagination finds difficulty in grasping
such periods, nor is it strange that they are so seriously questioned
by many students.

Queen Nitocris’ name appears among a list of three hundred and thirty
monarchs, and the duration of her reign is said to have been twelve
years. A sort of Cinderella legend attaches to her. An eagle carried
off the sandal of the beautiful maiden and dropped it before the
prince, who was sitting in an open air court in his office as judge. At
once he was fired with a desire to find the owner of that bewitching
slipper, who when found became the royal consort.

In the earliest times, as before mentioned, even the noblest in the
land wore no foot-covering within doors, and though sandals were more
common later, under the New Empire they were frequently carried by an
attendant slave and always put off in the presence of superiors. They
were made of leather or papyrus, with straps passing over the instep,
and between the toes, and occasionally a third strap to support the
heel. Sometimes, especially for solemn occasions, they were made with a
peak turning up in front, like Italian shoes of the fourteenth century,
and as time went on were turned up at the side (having at first only
consisted of a flat sole) and assumed more the shape of moccasins or
regular slippers and shoes.

With her extensive wig, skimp linen robe, and bare feet or turned
up sandals, the lady of long ago seems to us a curious figure. The
Egyptians, to use modern slang, were extremely fond of “sitting upon
people,” tables and chairs were upheld by the forms of carven captives
and even the royal lady’s dainty foot sometimes pressed the painted
image of a slave, as the soles were occasionally lined with cloth and
so decorated. Specimen of the papyrus sandals may be seen in many
museums, among them Berlin, the Salt collection at Alnwick Castle, the
New York Historical Society and other places.

With Cleopatra, Mary Stuart and such world-wide charmers ranks perhaps
this celebrated beauty of the earliest times. Of her ancestry we know
nothing. Fair hair, rosy cheeks and light complexion seem scarcely to
suggest the Egyptian type; yet there is mention made of an occasional
instance of fair hair, and the complexions were often a clear,
light yellow, growing darker as one went southward. So as a blonde,
high-spirited, bewitching, beautiful and vengeful, Nitocris stands
before us. Nit-a-ker, “the perfect Nit,” as she is styled in the much
injured “Book of the Kings” in the Turin papyrus, where some say two
of this name are mentioned. A great contrast we feel her to be, in
appearance at least, to Queen Mertytefs; yet both were able women who
left their mark on their generation. Like others her name is variously
rendered as Nitocris—the best known appellation—Nitokris, the former
from the Greek Nitaquert, (Egyptian) Neit-go-ri, or Neit-a-cri.

Her chief claim to remembrance lies in the building of a third pyramid,
or more accurately the re-building of one, that of Mankaura or
Mencheres. Says Rawlinson, “If Nitocris is really to be regarded as the
finisher of the edifice, she must be considered a great queen, one of
the few who have left their mark upon the world by the construction of
a really great monument.”

She placed a most beautiful casement, or revetement, of Syenitic
granite upon the unfinished pyramid of Men-kau-ra, begun a thousand
years before, and so important was her part that the whole erection has
been sometimes credited to her. She perhaps left the body of Men-kau-ra
in a lower chamber, and ordered her own, in a blue basalt sarcophagus,
to be placed above. The fine basalt sarcophagus found in this pyramid
is said to be hers.

Part of that of Men-kau-ra which was being carried off to England, was
lost in a vessel wrecked near Gibraltar. The cover of the sarcophagus,
with a prayer to Osiris upon it, is in the British Museum. It reads “O
Osiris who has become king of Egypt. Majesty living eternally, child
of Olympus, son of Urania. Heir of Kronos, over thee may she stretch
herself, and cover thee, thy divine mother, Urania, in her name as
Mistress of heaven. May she grant that thou should’st be like God, free
from all evils. King Majesty, living eternally.” The attenuated remains
of Men-kau-ra have been placed in one of the museums and the picture
taken of them is in all the collections of Egyptian kings, seeming to
verify the truth that “man is but a shadow.” There is a story that the
mummy or a wood-gilt image of the daughter of Men-ka-ra was placed in
the figure of a cow in a funeral chamber in Sais.

The cartouche of Queen Nitocris, with its encircling arabesque, stands
beside that of her husband, in the long list of Manetho. His name is
given as Nefer-ka-ra, and as Me-tes-ou-phis II, the question whether he
was her brother or not remains unsettled. On the king’s death the queen
succeeded as a matter of course, but either her husband or another
brother was murdered, probably by political adversaries, and her death
followed as a result of his. If it was her husband that she avenged
the desire for the destruction of his enemies long smouldered in her
breast. She built a hall of great dimensions and doubtless beauty,
below the level of the Nile and invited the murderers to a feast within
its walls. To disguise her purpose and lull suspicions must have taxed
all her powers and fascinations. Fish, beef, kids, gazelles, geese,
pasties, condiments and sweets of all sorts loaded the table. The
guests sat, rather than reclined, as in many Eastern countries, at
the board. Beer is said to be as old as the Fourth Dynasty and that
and palm wine probably flowed freely. As at the present day paste of
almonds may have been mixed with the Nile water to purify it, and wine
and water stood in porous jars, cooling by the process of evaporation,
an attendant slave fanning the vessels to hasten the effect. Flowers
decorated everything, hung in garlands and wreathed about the table,
the water jars, and the persons of the guests.

Darkness quickly follows daylight in Egypt, but it was probably at
night that the feast occurred. Music accompanied the festival, harps,
flutes and other instruments and dancing girls and jugglers added
entertainment and zest to the passing hour. Then, with a warning
which was little suspected, a small painted and gilded image of a
mummy was carried round among the mirthful crowd. Says Plutarch, “The
skeleton which the Egyptians appropriately introduce at their banquets,
exhorting the guests to remember that they shall soon be like him,
though he comes as an unwelcome and unseasonable boon-companion, is
nevertheless, in a certain sense, seasonable, if he exhorts them not to
drink and indulge in pleasure, but to cultivate mutual friendship and
affection, and not to render life, which is short in duration, long, by
evil deeds.”

Possibly Nitocris shared the feast, beautiful and gracious, resplendent
in jewels and glowing with the fire of an intense internal and
suppressed excitement, such as a man may feel when he goes into battle.
Not one moment did she repent of her fearful scheme though she may well
have foreseen that she herself would probably fall a victim. Possibly
she shared the feast and left them to their revels, or her position as
queen may have made it derogatory to her dignity to be present, but by
her orders the waters of the great river were let in upon them and they
were drowned. Many lives perhaps for one.

But they were probably powerful nobles, with families and numerous
adherents and the queen feared the consequences of her act and
preferred to take her own life than trust to the mercy of their
avengers. She is said to have smothered herself with the fumes of
ashes, a noble form of self-destruction or so considered, like the
Japanese hari-kari, but as this was a Persian custom the story may
belong to that period.

So ended the career of this beautiful and celebrated queen, called “the
Minerva Vietrix” of her time, “Neith the victorious,” and it is to be
inferred that the Sixth Dynasty closed with a period of convulsions.
The Arabs believe that the queen still haunts (a sort of Lorelei) the
vicinity of her pyramid, in the form of a naked woman, of such beauty
that all men who see her must needs fall in love with her and lose
their wits. Avenger, murderer, suicide, syren—all these characters
are attributed to her, but it is the image rather of the fair,
innocent, rosy-cheeked, beautiful young queen that the centuries have
crystallized and preserved for us.

Memphis had in previous reigns been the greatest city in Egypt, but now
others contested its claim, nevertheless it seems likely that it was
the scene of Queen Nitocris’ tragic fate. Some one has described Egypt
as a green belt, four miles wide, the Nile like a silver band, and the
cities on its borders like precious stones, and the river swept on,
as Leigh Hunt expressed it, “like a great purpose threading a dream,”
swept silently by, the giver of life and of death, the god beloved,
worshipped and adored, while the beautiful queen died and was buried,
and the city waned in prominence and power, and a new metropolis grew
in strength and magnificence and new dynasties lorded it over the land.




CHAPTER FIFTH.

SEBEK-NEFRU-RA.


Spirit seems to have especially distinguished those queens who have
made their way up through the mists of oblivion which lie so heavily
and darkly over many centuries of the Egyptian chronology. No vast
library remains for us to turn to and in direct sequence acquaint
ourselves with the early history of this land and people. Broken
monuments and tombs and half obliterated fragments of papyrus alone
tell the story.

Hence from the Sixth to the Twelfth Dynasty, during which period these
sources of information are notably lacking, no queen’s name appears.
One authority says that the register of the queen’s expenses for
servants, etc., in the Eleventh Dynasty, has been found, but no special
name seems to be connected with the list; and our knowledge of this
time is very meagre. An embalmed figure of the Lady Ament, priestess
of Hathor, the Egyptian Venus, has been credited to the Eleventh
Dynasty. She is robed in tissues as fine as lawn, with sandals in wood
and leather fastened on by worked bands. She wears a woven collar of
pearls, in glass, gold and silver, and has silver rings on her hands.
Silver being then scarcer than gold was esteemed even more highly.
This Eleventh Dynasty was of the Entef line, and, says Miss Edwards:
“A mummy case of the Eleventh Dynasty differs as much from the mummy
case of the Twenty-sixth Dynasty as the recumbent effigy of a crusader
in chain-mail differs from the periwigged memorial statue of the Queen
Anne period.”

Interesting “finds” of this same dynasty are well preserved wooden
boats which had been used for the transportation of the dead and were
exhumed from the sand. Some are in the Museum of Cairo, some have been
bought for the collection in our own Chicago, and more from this region
are doubtless to be seen in various museums, gathered from the Dahshour
pyramids and other places.

With the Twelfth Dynasty Egypt seemed to wake to a new life in many
respects and the arts, which had deteriorated and languished, again
flourished. Says one traveller, surveying the remains of this and
other famous epochs, “Egypt has given me a new insight into that vital
beauty which is the soul of true art.” Another, speaking of the special
sculpture of this time, writes “This school represents the heroic age
of Egyptian sculpture. It lacks the startling naturalism of the school
of the Pyramid period, it never aspired to the great scale of the
Eighteenth and Nineteenth Dynasties, but it excels all in monumental
majesty, and not only the artist’s work, but the craftsman’s skill is
seen at its best during this age. No details are so finely cut, no
surfaces glow with so lustrous and indescribable a polish as those
wrought by the lapidaries of the Twelfth and Thirteenth Dynasties. They
finished their colossi as fastidiously as a gem engraver finished a
cameo. They even polished the sunk surfaces of their hieroglyphics in
incuse inscriptions.” In short, “they worked like Titans and polished
like jewellers.”

The monarchs of this generation, a noted race, gained new territory,
and in various ways sought to improve the internal condition of their
kingdom as well, while life, to the favored, became more luxurious.

There are those who hold the opinion that the divisions of the
dynasties are in some way connected with the reigns of the queens.
Had that of Nitocris immediately preceded that of Sebek-nefru-Ra, the
fact that both the Sixth and Twelfth ended with a queen might have
given some color to the idea, but there do not seem sufficient data to
warrant any such conclusion.

Ancient Egyptian history has been divided by some into three periods,
the Old, the Middle, and the New Empire, while others merely divide
into the Old and the New, including the Middle with the first. By
the former classification the Fourth, Fifth and Sixth Dynasties are
included under the Old Empire, the Twelfth and Thirteenth under the
Middle and the Eighteenth, Nineteenth and Twentieth under the New. So
that our course of investigation has now reached the Middle period.
Of the previous and subsequent dynasties, those for some time before
and after the Twelfth the absence of monumental and other relics leave
the history almost a blank. The Twelfth is said to have lasted over
two hundred years and later Egyptians looked back to it as a period of
National glory when they were governed by wise rulers, literature and
art flourished and the language of the time was regarded as a standard
of good writing.

Says a writer in “Monumental Records”: “Thanks to the effects of M.
de Morgan and his co-workers in the Nile valley we know much more
about Egypt and that wonderful Twelfth Dynasty, which flourished so
many centuries before Christ, than we do of the history of England’s
kings up to the time of Alfred the Great. The Egyptian Empire through
all its dynasties, certainly up to the Twelfth, on which the labors
of M. de Morgan at Dahshour throw so much light, consisted of three
estates, the Monarch, the Army and the Church. As the king’s authority
came through the gods his will was, in theory, absolute and his spoken
or written desires became laws; but in fact his education from the
cradle was directed and his whole reign dominated by the power of a
well-organized, patriotic priesthood. The army was made up of the
farmers and workers, every soldier being granted about eight acres of
land for his family which he could commute at his wish, the physical
training of the individual was scientific and the tactics suited to
the warlike weapons of the age arouse the admiration and amazement of
the foremost soldiers of our own time. But the priests were the power
behind the throne, and before the people, and, as a rule, this power
was wisely used. The priests established schools near the temples, they
founded and fostered engineering and the mechanical arts; they wrote
books; they encouraged the fine arts; and with the growth of wealth
they sought to restrain the corrupting influences of luxury.”

The same writer also draws attention to the fact that in the mural
paintings which tell us so much of the daily lives of the people the
high esteem in which women were held is to be everywhere noted.

Dynasty Twelfth began with Amenemhat I of the Theban line which now
ruled all Egypt and of which the red granite temple, whose remains have
been found at Tanis, has been called a family portrait gallery. The
type shown in a fine, though of course mutilated statue of this king,
to this day characterizes Upper Egypt. He wears the tall head-dress of
Osiris and is described as having “a large smiling face, thick lips,
short nose and big staring eyes,” with a benevolent, gentle expression.
Miss Edwards gives further particulars, “The cheek bones are high,
the eyes prominent and heavy lidded, the nostril open; the lips full,
smiling and defined by a slight ridge at the edges; the frontal bone
is wide and the chin small and shapely.” The statue was found in the
ruins of Tanis and many relics from there are in the museum at Turin.
There is also a head of Usertesen bearing resemblance to the former,
but less attractive, though equally smiling and amiable in expression.
In later times Rameses, the Great, but also the Despoiler, cut his own
inscriptions on these and other statues and ruthlessly appropriated the
material of older temples to carry out his own architectural plans.

The museum of the London Universary possesses the blue lettered portal
of the tomb of Amenemhat, son of Hor-ho-tep and his mother Erdus.
Near Silsileh is a tablet on which we see a queen behind Neb-kher-ra
and we read of “The royal mother his beloved Aah,” of the Eleventh or
Twelfth Dynasty. A certain queen, Mentu-hotep, is known by her coffin
and toilette box and there is a copy of an inscription, now destroyed,
which reads “Great royal wife Mentu-hotep, begotten of the vizier the
keeper of the palace, Semb-hena-f, born of the heiress Sebek-hotep.”
So that this royal lady was not of foreign lineage, but probably of
princely blood by the mother’s side. A certain Prince Heru-nefer is
mentioned as the son of King Menhotep and the “great royal wife,”
Shertsat; while at Kha-taneh we find record of Queen Sent, heiress,
royal wife and royal mother. Almost empty names which give to their
bearers but little individuality.

Amenemhat I associated with him as co-regent his son Ousertesen, or
Usertesen I, as in after years his descendant Thothmes I did his
daughter Hatasu, and Usestesen succeeded his father. For this son,
apparently much beloved, Amenemhat wrote a series of “Instructions”
which have been preserved and form an interesting page in the history
of the time. We are reminded of Lord Chesterfield’s Letters to his
son, though the former deal with different subjects than manners and
deportment, and Usertesen was an abler man and better repaid his
father’s interest than did the youthful Chesterfield. This treatise
contained the usual self-glorifying records. “I conquered the
Ethiopians. I led the Lybians. I made the Asiatics run before me like
greyhounds.”

From the pictures in the grottoes of Benee or Beni Hasan, by the Arabs
called “Stahl Haman, Pigion Stable,” which are sixty feet square and
forty high, impressive ruins, we view the plain of Siout and gain much
of our knowledge of these times. They were rock tombs in the face of
the mountain above the level of the Nile, containing memorials of
a series of ministers of State to the early monarchs of this race,
perhaps favored and appreciated as U’na of the Sixth Dynasty. The power
of the nobles seems to have been greater, the kings less autocratic
than at an earlier period.

Palms, sycamores, fragrant acasias, mimosas and acanthus grow around
Siout and the air is fragrant with the rich odor of flowers. Bayard
Taylor thus describes the view of the plain of Siout viewed from these
grotto tombs. “Seen through the entrance it has a magical effect. From
the grey twilight of the hall in which you stand, the green of the
fields, the purple of the distant mountains and the blue of the sky
dazzle your eyes as if tinged with the broken rays of a prism.”

Of Amenemhat’s wife and Usertesen’s mother there seems no trace.
Usertisen I had a brilliant reign, to which the obelisk remaining at
Heliopolis, the fragments of statues at Tanis and the inscriptions in
the Sienaitic peninsula bear witness—some of these last are in the
Naples museum. It is a curious detail that at the obelisk of Heliopolis
it is said that the inscriptions on three sides, deeply cut, are
almost obliterated by the cells of bees, which have made nests in the
hieroglyphics.

A great father was succeeded by a lesser son in Amenemhat II, of
whose wife there is little or no record. His son, Usertesen II, was
the builder of the pyramid of Illahun, where comparatively recent
discoveries, those of M. de Morgan in 1892-3-4 have brought to light
various remains of this period and the belongings of the sisters,
wives and daughters of the Amenemhats and Usertesens. Tombs, robbed
and despoiled in the time of the Hyksos and the Eighteenth Dynasty,
yet yielded to the more careful research of later explorations hidden
treasures, workmen’s tools of various sorts, and the ornaments, etc.,
of these long ago queens and princesses. This is often of the finest
quality and equals if not excels, in the skill of the craftsman, that
earlier discovered elsewhere, belonging to the Eighteenth Dynasty.

Usertesen II had a wife named Nofrit or Nefert. The Gizeh museum
has a statue of her, in granite, in the general character of the
sculpture of the Tanite school. It goes almost without saying that it
is mutilated, the eyes formerly inlaid, have fallen out, the bronze
eyelids are lost, the arms have disappeared, but enough remains to show
a young and beautiful woman, the fine outlines of whose youthful form
are seen through the usual narrow linen robe. The head is adorned,
or disfigured, with the heavy wig worn by the goddess Hathor, the
Egyptian Venus, of which two enormous tresses surround the cheeks
and curl outward on the breasts. The queen also wears on her bosom a
pectoral or ornament bearing the name of her husband. Her titles are
“Hereditary princess,” perhaps the daughter of the former king, “the
great favorite, the highly praised, the beloved consort of the king,
the ruler of all women, the king’s daughter of his body, Nefert.” The
title ruler or princess is peculiar and suggests some prerogative of
the government of the female half of the population. Maspero believes
that a statue of this same queen may be found in the collection now in
Marseilles.

Usertesen II and Queen Nefert seem to have been blessed with a number
of children and various daughters’ names are given, Atmu-neferu,
Sat-hathor and Sent-s-senb. In the subterranean chamber at Dashur or
Dahshour, in the pyramid of Illahur, the tomb of Usertesen II, before
referred to, was found a chest for Canopic jars and vases for perfumes,
dishes of fowl, wheat grains, a table for writing, a white swan carved
in wood, canes and jewelry, crowns, diadems and a gold vulture. The
aperture in the ceiling above beings closed by a stone had escaped the
notice of the earlier depredators whose purpose was in no way the cause
of science. Contrary to the usage of the Old Empire, but in conformity
with that of the Twelfth Dynasty, these sepulchral chambers do not
contain the carved names of the sovereign proprietors, but these are
learned from texts on the wooden coffins and on vases. We have the
tombs of the Princess Iza and Knumit, the tomb of Prince Khuma-Nub and
the tombs of the Princess Sit-hat and Ita-Qurt, “issues of royal blood”
of the family of Amenhotep II. Of the Amenemhats we have a list of the
sisters, wives and daughters, Queen Sonit, of whom there is a statuette
in black granite, Nofirhonit, Soubit, Sithathor and Monit, names only
of whose private history nothing remains to us.

The Princesses Knumit and Iza left much jewelry; the former, probably
the daughter of Amenemhat II, was evidently the more important person,
with the richer treasures. Among the rest a large necklace with beads
of silver, gold, carnelian, emerald, lapis-lazuli and hieroglyphic
signs in gold, crusted with precious stones. These were in sheathing of
painted and gilded paste, through which some of the network and jewels
had escaped. There was also a crown of lotus flowers, of jewelry, which
was so arranged that the wearer could place in it various plumes or
feathers, to be changed at pleasure.

Henut-tani was the queen of Usertesen III, the conqueror of Nubia, and
she was called queen consort, but not royal mother. Queen Merseker and
Queen Haankn’s are also mentioned as queens of the Usertesens. And the
queens and princesses were frequently priestesses to Nit or Hathor.

The temple of Kounah built by Amenhotep III is said to have contained
700 statues of the lion-headed goddess Seckmet, but they were rather
the work of the artisan than the artist and far below the level of
the sculpture of this period. There is a bust of Amenemhat III at St.
Petersburgh. His reign was distinguished by the construction of Lake
Moeris, an artificial reservoir of which traces yet remain, and of the
great Labyrinth whose purpose has not been made clear, but the ruins
of which were discovered by Dr. Lepsius, in the Prussian Expedition to
Egypt. Lake Moeris, with its network of canals, made all the land of
the flat basin of the Fayum a fertile garden and the fisheries of the
lake were of great value and formed part of the revenues of the queen.

It was a period of wealth and luxury. All the furniture, rosewood from
India, ebony from the far south, cedar from the slopes of Lebanon, and
pine from Syria was exquisitely carved. The walls were frescoed and
painted, decorated with vases for flowers and perfumes and with an
altar for unburnt offerings, and the rooms were in suites of chambers,
sitting rooms, and bath. The roof was flat, generally shaded with
awning, and hosts and guests could sit or lie upon it and enjoy the air
and the view.

“The opulent Egyptian,” says Monumental Records, “of the time of
Amenemhat II had his country seat, like our modern prince. Its
high-walled garden was watered by a canal leading from the Nile. Along
the sides of this canal were walks shaded by the yellow blossomed
acacia, the sycamore and the Theban palm. In the centre of the garden
was a vineyard, the branches trained over trellis work and so forming a
rustic boudoir, with broad green leaves and clusters of red grapes on
the walls. At one end of the garden stood a summer house or kiosk; in
front of this was a pond covered with broad leaves and blue flowers of
the lotus, through which water fowl sported. This pond was stocked with
fish and the host invited his guest to join him in spearing or angling.
Adjoining this were the stables and coach houses, with a park near by,
in which gazelles were bred for coursing—for the gentry of old Egypt
were lovers of the chase. In hunting wild ducks they made use of decoys
and trained cats to retrieve. They speared hippopotami in the Nile
and hunted lions in the desert with dogs. They were pigeon-fanciers
and were proud of rare varieties.” In short one is “amazed to see in
studying their social enjoyments their resemblance to our own.”

The goddess Bast in the time of the ancient Empire was represented
with the head of a lioness and only in the Twelfth with that of a
cat. The cat and Dongalese dog were first represented on the walls of
Beni-Hasan in the time of the raids of the kings into Kush or Ethiopia,
the Usertesens and Amenemhats. There are cat cemeteries belonging to
this time where the skulls are larger than those of our common cats and
also where the animals had been cremated, while in Upper Egypt, in the
Fayum, they were found mummified and bandaged.

This dynasty closes, as did the Sixth, with a queen. Little as we know
of her she was a ruling monarch and gives her name to this chapter, as
she appears to have been the only one of this race who actually swayed
the sceptre in her own right. She was the daughter of Amenemhat III
and probably sister and wife of Amenemhat IV, whom she succeeded. As
her name takes precedence of his on the monuments they probably did
not have the same mother and hers may have been of higher lineage than
his. Queen Sebek-nefru-ra, or Sorknofrituri, is known chiefly from the
traces of her short reign found near Illahun, fragments of pillars
bearing her name beside the pre-nomen of her father. These or some
portion of them are to be seen in the British Museum. According to the
Turin papyrus she reigned three years, eight months and eighteen days,
but no tradition has come down to us of her appearance or personality
and no romance or tragic story of her life or fate.

Amenemhat III had also another daughter, Phat-neferu, who probably
died before her sister and was buried beside her father. Memorials of
her are an alabaster altar, a block of black granite, with names and
titles and a broken dish, inscribed “King’s daughter, Ptah-neferu.” A
sphinx of grey granite is thought to be Queen Sebek-nefrura, because
different from the others, which is of course not very conclusive proof
and at Hawara her name occurs as often as that of her father on columns
and blocks, and there is a cylinder of white schist, glazed blue, of
unusual size and bearing all her titles, also a scarab. But it is but
little after all that we know of her.

A romance has been discovered of this dynasty in the earlier period, in
a story of which a beginning is found on a piece of broken limestone,
the end of the tale having been for some time previously preserved
on a papyrus in the Berlin Museum. Probably it was a favorite piece
of literature, like the adventures of Robinson Crusoe to the English
speaking world, and might have been found in various forms. A certain
Senebat, an Egyptian, having overheard a state secret and fearing that
if this were discovered his life might pay the forfeit, fled to Syria.
Wandering in the desert and almost dying of thirst he was found by
some of the wild tribes, saved and adopted by them and in time rose to
the rank of chief. But homesickness at last overtook him and he sent
an appeal to the Egyptian king for permission to return. He was then
invited to court, where he wrote a curious account of his adventures
and the manners and customs of the Bedouins. He was much honored, being
received by the queen and family while the royal daughters performed
a dance and sang a chorus of praise to the king. The monarch even
distinguished him by taking an interest in the tomb which he prepared
and at the end of a sort of triumphal song, Senebat, says, “I was in
favor with the king to the day of his death.”

The Twelfth Dynasty is also interesting to us as being contemporaneous
with the birth of the Jewish nation, the time of Abraham, Isaac and
Jacob.

A stele bears the names of the daughters or aunts of the deceased
king Sebek-hotep II adoring Min, and their names are Anhetabu and
Anget-dudu, born of Queen Nen-na. The parents of Sebek-hotep II are
spoken of as “the divine father Men-tuhotep III” and royal mother,
Anhet-abu, after whom evidently one of the daughters or grand-daughters
was called. The name Sebek-hotep was a favorite. The father of
Nefer-hotep and Sebek-hotep III was Ha’ankh’s, his mother Kema, his
wife Sebsen and he had four royal children. A statement of facts
probably, but with little accompanying detail. Sebek-hotep IV had for
his queen Nub-em-hat and his daughter was Sebek-emhat, and there is a
certain Pernub, probably of this family, descended from Queen Ha’ankh’s.

Queen Nub’kha’s was the wife of Sebek-em-saf, whose tomb was among
those discovered in 1881. It was first rifled in the Twentieth Dynasty
and is referred to in papyrus of the time of Rameses IX, of which the
Amherst and Abbott papyrus give accounts. Like so many of the queens
our only knowledge of her is from her tomb and that from the deposition
of the robber who violated it, which is thus given. “It (the tomb) was
surrounded by masonry and covered with roofing stone. We demolished
it and found them (the king and queen) reposing therein. We found
the august king with his divine axe beside him and his amulets and
ornaments of gold about his neck. His head was covered with gold and
his august person was entirely adorned with gold. His coffins were
overlaid with gold and silver within and without and incrusted with
all kinds of precious stones. We took the gold which we found upon the
sacred person of this god, as also his amulets and the ornaments which
were about his neck and the coffins in which he reposed. And having
found the royal wife we took all that we found upon her, in the same
manner and we set fire to their mummy cases and we seized upon the
furniture, their vases of gold and silver and bronze, and we divided
them among ourselves.” Death was deservedly the penalty for such
offences, but probably the sinner felt a certain relief in making a
“clean breast” of it, or perhaps fancied in some strange way that his
wicked exploit conferred a sort of distinction upon him.

A stele gives the genealogy of this queen as daughter of the chief of
the judges Sebek-dudu, who, rich or poor man, had four wives. The queen
is called on a stele in the Louvre “great heiress the greatly favored,
the ruler of all women, united to the crown,” thus showing that the
kings did not always marry princesses. In the Fourteenth Dynasty, up
to this writing, no queen’s name has been discovered. Weaker rulers
followed, and thus Asiatic invaders, the Hyksos, an alien race,
mistakenly supposed by Josephus to be Hebrews, were able to overpower
and usurp the government, ruling in some places simultaneously with,
and in others expelling the native sovereigns. They were called
shepherd kings or princes. Some of their statues remain, but as they
were frequently re-inscribed by later kings, there is doubt about some
of them. All traces of the queens are, so far, lost during this period.
Whether these strange invaders kept their women in the seclusion usual
in the East or whether once existing relics have been destroyed, we
know not. Beside the few portrait statues of the kings no royal consort
appears, and they are of a different style of art. Joseph is thought
to have been the prime minister of one of the Hyksos rulers and an
inscription found which reads: “A famine having broken out during many
years I gave corn to the towns during each famine,” is believed by some
to relate to him. But it was not the wont of the Egyptian monarchs to
celebrate the achievements of their slaves and such early memorials, if
existing, would probably have been destroyed when the Hebrew race was
enslaved by their oppressors.

Petrie gives the approximate dates of 2821 B. C. to 1928 B. C. for
these various reigns.




CHAPTER SIXTH.

AAH-HOTEP.


Between the Fourteenth Dynasty, of which we last spoke, and the
Seventeenth and Eighteenth Dynasties, to which this chapter brings us,
occurs the third chasm in the monuments, and as they are the chief
dependence in learning the history of Egypt, the information in regard
to this intervening period is very meagre. Egypt was ruled with special
favor shown to the central portion, and weaker monarchs had succeeded
the great Amenemhats and Usertesens. Foreigners, the so-called Hyksos,
or Shepherd Kings, overran and took possession of the country and
conquered it, almost without battles, proceeding later to destroy the
temples and kill the inhabitants.

Among these kings’ names are that of Salatis, or Shaloti, and a certain
Apepi, of the Turanian type, a bust of whom is in the British Museum,
and another at Gizeh, while it is to one of these rulers that Joseph is
by some believed to have been the favored minister, but, as has been
said before, no queen appears amongst them.

After the lapse of five hundred years Egypt awoke from its partial
lethargy and, throwing off the yoke of these invaders, asserted its
independence under a line of native rulers. Battles were fought and
won, and the Theban princes again held sway. King Ta’a ruled, perhaps
tributary to the Hyksos, revolted and partially liberated himself
from thral, but it remained to his descendant Aahmes to completely
accomplish this object. It seemed somewhat characteristic of the
Egyptian monarchs that they did not know how to hold their conquered
territory. Again and again they won battles and subjected foreign
peoples only to lose what they had gained, to be once more fought for
by their warlike successors.

The divisions into dynasties is said not to have been made by the
Egyptians themselves, but to have been used by historians for the
greater convenience of indicating the families who, together or in
succession, held the sceptre.

No woman’s strength had been able to struggle up through the previous
oblivion, but she now once more takes her place beside the king and
shares with him honors, both divine and human. “Divine spouse,” a
term not used before, is applied to the queens of this era, who were
regarded as the mothers of the race and worshipped for generations
after.

It was sometimes inscribed on the monuments in Egypt that “the sons
of Misr” were all born equal, but this had about the same relation to
facts that the vaunted “Liberty, Equality and Fraternity” sometimes
bore. In the Twelfth Dynasty, below the crown and royal family
came, first, the class of priests; second, the soldiers; third, the
husbandmen, gardeners, huntsmen and boatmen; fourth, tradesmen,
shopkeepers, artificers in stone and metal, boat builders, stone masons
and public weighers; fifth, shepherds, poulterers, fishermen, fowlers,
laborers and the people at large—distinctly a succession of classes.
Laborers wore only an apron and short trousers of coarse woven grass
cloth.

The times were changing; this we learn from the numerous remains of
this period, on the sculptured and painted monuments and the papyri, of
which many have been discovered. The temples were growing in importance
and the kings were buried more in grottoes than, as formerly, in
monuments. The military man succeeded the farmer, and the priests
gained in power. The wall paintings give pictures of festivals, with
music and dancing, and less of the agricultural life previously so much
dwelt upon.

It is interesting to know that the horse, in so many countries the
useful and often beloved companion of man, seems to have been first
introduced into Egypt in the Eighteenth Dynasty. After that he often
figures in battles, and draws the state chariot in which both kings
and queens take their pleasure. On the wall of a tomb at Thebes, that
of a certain Hui of the Eighteenth Dynasty, is the picture of a queen
drawn by two piebald bulls, like the modern Abyssinian breed. This,
presumably, is just before the period when horses were in general use.
To this time is also attributed the introduction of the pomegranate,
the beautiful Eastern fruit of which poets have often sung; and
earrings were then said to be added to the previous list of adornments,
as the result of foreign example—they first took the shape of broad
disks, and later, under the Twentieth Dynasty, became large rings.

In the Seventeenth Dynasty we have mention of a Queen Ansera. Of her
private history we know nothing, but after her death she extended
her hospitality to a number of her royal connections, for the great
discovery in the summer of 1881 brought to light the mummies of many
kings and queens gathered together in her tomb. Among these were the
celebrated King Rameses II, by some thought to be the oppressor of the
Israelites; Queen Aahmes-Nefertari, first of the Eighteenth Dynasty;
Queen Merit-Amen, Queen Hout-timoo-hoo and Queen Sitka, also belonging
to this dynasty, besides others of later date.

A certain confusion for a long time existed between the two queens,
Aah-hotep and Aahmes-Nefertari, but the late history of Professors
Petrie and Mahaffy has rendered the details of this period somewhat
clearer. Different authorities have varied the name and spelling of
Queen Aah-hotep. Thus we have in addition to the spelling above given,
Aahotep, Aah-hetep or Ahhot-pou. It has the pretty meaning, “gift of
the moon,” and she seems to have been a Theban princess, and first
to have married an Egyptian, perhaps not of royal rank, and then
Seqenenra, whose mummy has been found, showing that he had been wounded
in battle. He was of the Berber type—tall, slender and vigorous, with
small, long head and fine black hair. The reasons for this chronology
are said not to be very strong. Aahmes was perhaps son of the first,
Nefertari, daughter of the second, so the lawful heir, and Aahmes thus
married his half-sister. If Kames, at first thought to be the husband
and later the son of Queen Aah-hotep, was the elder brother, he had a
short reign, followed by Aahmes and Nefertari.

Queen Aah-hotep had several children and was a wonderful woman,
according to some accounts, with the longevity of a Mertytefs. A Theban
stele of Kames shows that in the tenth year of Amen-hotep I, that
Aah-hotep, the royal mother, was still active, revered and honored,
taking a share in the government and perhaps regent in the absence of
the king, at eighty-eight years of age, and she seems still to have
been alive during the reign of Tahutmes or Thothmes I. Hence she had
seen the whole of the revolution which again set the native princes
upon the throne, during the reigns of son, grandson and great grandson.
Petrie says of her, she was “one of the great queens of Egyptian
history, important as the historic link of the dynasties and revered
along with her still more celebrated and honored daughter, Nefertari.”
Peculiarly close, and perhaps personally tender, relations seem to
have existed between these two, who were both mother and daughter and
mother-in-law and daughter-in-law. And children and grandchildren
appear to have paid highest respect to Queen Aah-hotep.

The esteem of the son for his mother in the time of the Old Empire
seems to have been great, as the Frenchman of to-day is said to be
especially devoted to his. The family groups representing the living or
dead, and sometimes both, frequently give the king, his wife and his
mother, while the father rarely appears; though this is probably more
apt to be the case when the royal dignity has descended on the maternal
rather than the paternal side.

Queen Aah-hotep was evidently much beloved by her martial son and
grandsons, for the latter lavished upon her dead body all sorts of
jewelry and ornaments to be buried with her. This large collection has
been found and preserved, and, until the discovery of the parure of
some of the princesses of the Twelfth Dynasty, was the finest specimen
of the skill of the Egyptian craftsman that had come down to modern
times. The body was found in the ancient necropolis of No, buried only
a few feet below the surface. This, of course, was not the original
place of sepulture, where the latest authorities believe it was placed,
not by the Arab plunderers of the other royal tombs, but by pious
hands, to preserve it from destruction, in the unsettled state of the
country. Brugsch thus describes it: “The cover of the coffin had the
shape of a mummy and was gilt above and below. The royal asp decked the
brow. The white of the eye is represented by quartz and the pupils by
black glass. A rich imitation necklace covers the breast and shoulders;
the uræus serpent and the vulture—the holy symbols of the Upper and
Lower land of Kemi—lie below the necklace. A closed pair of wings seem
to protect the rest of the body. At the soles of the feet stand the
statues of the mourning goddesses, Isis and Nepththys. The inscription
in the middle row gives us the queen Aah-hotep, as servant of the moon.”

The mummy of Queen Aah-hotep was discovered by rummaging Arabs in
1860, but was captured and confiscated by the authorities, who opened
the coffin and took away what it contained. The rumor of this theft
had spread, and Mariette, the great Egyptologist, who was in charge
of the museum at Boulak, put his hand on the coffin and the jewels,
but was not able to save them all. He believed that the queen was not
originally buried where the Arabs discovered her, but thinks that
towards the close of the Twentieth Dynasty she had been carried off
by bands of robbers, spoken of in the Abbott papyrus, and hidden by
them to despoil at leisure. Their design, however, was frustrated, as
they were probably caught and executed, and their secret perished with
them, until rediscovered hundreds of years later. As may be seen, the
theories of the authorities on these subjects differ somewhat, as is so
frequently the case. But to the latest researches and opinions perhaps
should be attached the greatest weight, since they have the advantage
of their predecessors’ views and the benefit of the most modern
discoveries.

A fine illustration of female clothing and adornment is given in the
standing statue of the Dame or Lady “Takarshit.” She wears a short
wig, in rows of curls, and an embroidered band across her head, a very
scant, narrow, and short robe, which almost makes us wonder how she
had free play for her limbs (this, too, is embroidered in rows with
religious subjects), and she has bracelets and chains on her wrists and
arms. The face is older than the figure, as the Egyptians in sculpture
would occasionally unite the beauty of youthful form with that of the
more mature head and countenance.

The list of Queen Aah-hotep’s treasures, habited, as we can picture
her to be, in the garb just described, is a long one. On the gilded
coffin lid she is represented with face uncovered and body enveloped
in wings of Isis. This goddess was a special object of worship at
this time, as later in the Ptolemaic period also. Among the most
interesting of the trinkets is a little golden boat set on a wheeled
wooden carriage and manned with small figures, the central one of which
is her son, King Kames, or, as it was originally thought, her husband.
He is going to Abydos, and holds in his hand an axe and a sceptre.
There is also another little silver boat with its crew of rowers. A
diadem as small as a bracelet for the wrist was found attached to the
head of the queen, and terminated in tiny sphinxes, with the name of
Aahmes engraved in letters of gold upon a groundwork of lapis-lazuli.
A funeral collar, prescribed by the ritual, has designs of animals in
chased gold, the figures outlined by fine gold wires, like Chinese
cloissonne, between paste and colored stones. The coloring of all
this enamel is particularly rich. There are three massive gold bees,
possibly intended as the decoration for some order; also silver bees. A
necklace with hanging ornaments in the shape of red and blue almonds.
A box in the form of a royal cartouch as a large seal guarded by two
sphinxes. A magnificent chain with the head of a goose at either end,
the name of King Aahmes on the neck and the scarabeus or sacred beetle
hanging from it.

Necklaces of gold and silver, rings and bracelets, the former with
little figures of the gods, or amulets of various sorts hanging from
them, were much worn; and it is said that after the Twenty-sixth
Dynasty, owing to Phoenician influences, the bracelets usually
terminated in lions’ heads. These amulets were supposed to preserve the
wearer from harm, both in a present and a future world, and the gods
themselves, strange to say, sought such protection. The “evil eye,”
still thought to exist in our comparatively modern life, as witness the
Salem witchcraft craze, was especially dreaded, and there were various
designs to ward off its ill effects. Among these were outstretched
fingers; “Ut-a’” eyes, sometimes with wings and hands, holding a disk,
in different substances; the right symbolized the king, as the sun, the
left, the queen, as the moon, and, either sculptured or worn, guarded
the owner from this particular form of harm.

The heart amulet and the scarab or scarabeus was very common. Many
curious notions prevailed about this insect. It was believed to be of
only one sex, and women ate it to induce fecundity. The fact that the
male and female closely resemble each other and share in the care of
their offspring probably was the foundation of this idea. A remarkable
example of a scarab was taken from the mummy of Tahut’mes III. It was
of steatite, glazed, of a greenish purple hue, in a hold frame bound
across. There was a figure of Tahut’mes kneeling, with crown on head,
and the whip, signifying authority, in his hand, while with the other
he made an offering to the god. A dog was represented in front and a
hawk behind him, and a gold loop was attached to hang the scarab to
the chain on the neck. All Egyptians loved jewelry, the men as well as
the women wearing necklaces, collars, etc., of gold, silver, beads and
precious stones. Great use was made of carnelian, lapis lazuli, jasper,
etc., and ladies would occupy themselves, as do the blind of our own
time, in stringing glass beads and bugles into network, which in these
latter days is used to trim the clothing of the living, while with the
Egyptian it was chiefly for the adornment of the dead.

A chapter from the Book of the Dead was found on a scarab of the time
of Mycerinas. These scarabs seem to have been of three classes; the
first merely for ornament, the second for historic record, and the
third for funeral purposes. They sometimes bore the names of kings
earlier than those with whose mummies they have been found. A signet
ring was of special importance and a necessary article among the
belongings of either king or queen, as also of many others of less
elevated rank. It was the same thing as the signing of a personal name
at the present time—they sealed instead of signing, and when an Eastern
monarch wished to send special orders he would sometimes intrust his
signet ring to the bearer in token of authority. This ring was of gold
or less valuable material, according to the rank of the owner. Many
examples of a pretty class of ring made of faience, in blue, green,
purple, etc., and manufactured at Tel-el-Amarna, the city built by
Amen-hotep IV, formerly called Khu-n-aten, in the latter part of the
Eighteenth Dynasty have been found, and are among the collections in
various museums.

Some of these collections have sets of ornaments belonging to ancient
kings and queens. Berlin has that of an Ethiopean Candace. The Louvre
that of a Prince Pzar, with griffins and lotus. Also a ring of Rameses
II, with little horses standing on the bezel. At Gizeh are heavy
earrings of Rameses IX, with filagree chains and uræus, and bracelets
of Pinotem in gold encrusted with stones, like those made to-day in the
Soudan. The later discoveries of this sort, belonging to the latter
period of the Egyptian Empire, show Greek influences. But the most
extensive, tasteful and finely wrought of these objects was the parure
of Queen Aah-hotep. Chains to the women were as essential as rings to
the men; a woman was indeed poor if her jewel box held only one.

As the North American Indian slays the favorite horse and lays beside
his dead chief bows and arrows for use in the “happy hunting grounds,”
so the Egyptian placed in the tomb of his revered and beloved things
that he used in daily life. At one time it was even the custom in the
case of a king to kill some of his slaves, whose souls might accompany
and attend upon him, but this cruel practice was not kept up. For
service in another existence, food, furniture and personal belongings
surrounded the dead in his grave, as they had done the living in his
household; and, in the case of a woman especially, all her feminine
appliances for the toilette and many of her ornaments and jewels were
included. Some were what had belonged to her in the past, some were
newly prepared for the future state. Even faded flowers hundreds of
years old have been discovered, and fruit has been found with mummies
of the Eleventh Dynasty.

One museum possesses a sarcophagus of a priest of Maut and a prophet
of Queen Aah-hotep. To her the priests of Amen rendered divine honors.
On the inside of the coffin are invocations to the divine Amenophis
II (a descendant of the queen’s), and also to both Queens Aah-hotep
and Nefertari Ahmes. The coffin of the former was not so gigantic as
that of the latter, and somehow one pictures her as rather smaller and
more feminine looking than the daughter who succeeded her in the royal
honors, with the thick eyelashes blackened with kohl, the straight
brows, the almond-shaped eyes and the other features characteristic of
the Egyptian face. Into the future life in which the Egyptian believed
so ardently she stepped, after a long pilgrimage in this world,
accompanied by all the little devices which had made her comfort and
pleasure here, to be honored and revered as she had been accustomed to
be in the lower world.

Among the valued amulets was the buckle, or “Tie,” made of jasper,
carnelian, porphery, red glass, faience and sycamore wood, more rarely
of gold. The red material stood for the blood of Isis, and this amulet
was put on the neck of a mummy for its protection. Such were usually
without inscription, but two found together would occasionally be
inscribed with a chapter from the Book of the Dead. The “Tet,” made
of gold, sometimes had plumes, when it signified Osiris and meant
firmness. This also was for protection. Serpents’ heads guarded from
their bites in another world. The vulture amulet was of gold, but was
not common. It referred to “Mother Isis,” and bore such inscriptions
from the Book of the Dead as “His Mother, the mighty lady, makes his
protection and brings him to Horus.” This was sometimes suspended from
the usual gold collar worn by the dead. The “anck,” or life sign, was
something like a small cross with an oval ring on top instead of the
upper arm, and was very frequent. The amulet “Nefer” was for good luck.
“Maut,” always worn by the god Ptah, was a frequent emblem of Hathor.
Frogs, disks, plumes, etc., were of this list. Some of these, and more,
probably surrounded Queen Aah-hotep.

In a pectoral on her breast King Ahmes was represented, while the two
divinities Amen and Ra poured the water of purification on his head;
they stand in a little green temple. Bracelets for the ankle or upper
arm were simple rings of gold, massive, solid or hollow, edged with
threads of gold to represent filagree. Others worn at the wrist, like
ours, were formed of beads of gold, lapis lazuli, carnelian and green
feldspar, mounted on threads of gold and disposed in squares in which
half was a different color. The fastenings were two gold plates united
by an aiglet of gold, the cartouch of Ahmes engraved lightly at the
point. Some of the bracelets were more complicated but not so fine in
workmanship—three parallel bands garnished with turquoise. There was
also a vulture, the queen’s special ornament, with outstretched wings;
also the heads of sparrow-hawks. Some of the ornaments were attached to
the cloth in which the mummy was wrapped by rings. But for what we may
call the trousseau of a bride of the tomb, jewelry was not sufficient.
Arms, with which she was to protect herself, or be protected, from
the evil spirits of another world, were also provided and placed with
her. There was a unique specimen of a baton, bent at the extremity and
adorned with a spiral of gold. Such forms as this are found to-day
among the inhabitants of Nubia and the Soudan, but probably have
not the same meaning. An axe was ornamented with gold and precious
stones, inlaid, and with a picture of the warlike Aahmes slaying an
enemy. Handles of knives in ebony were carved with the lotus. There
were poinards with female heads, and sheaths with raised ornaments of
damascened gold and inscriptions. On the blade on one side was “The
beneficent god Ra-neb-pebti, life giver, as the sun, ever.” On the
other, “The son of the sun and of his side Aahmes-nakht—life giver and
always.” One hatchet had a handle of horn and a silver blade. A poinard
had a yellow bronze blade and silvered handle, and there was also a
clasp of bronze with holes left for ostrich feathers.

To these were added a large variety of toilette articles, vases and
jars of various sorts for spices, unguents, etc. Alabaster jars in
tombs are as ancient as the Fourth Dynasty, and examples are also known
inscribed with the name of Unas, Pepi I, Men-tu-em-saf, Amasis I,
Tahutimes II, Amenophis II, Rameses II, and Queen Amen-eritis.

The god Bes, said to be introduced from Punt, presided over the
toilette. He had a squat, hideous figure, and a face which was
doubtless chiefly appreciated from its contrast to that of his fair
votaries. He bore a double character, one side being military or
martial in aspect, the other a sort of Bacchus or god of Pleasure,
and it was in this last, probably, that he was regarded as a suitable
guardian for the preparations for feasts and revels. Toilette articles,
of which a number were found with the body of the queen, were mirrors,
tweezers, hairpins of wood, bone, ivory and metal, and occasionally
combs of wood and ivory, though these last are believed by some
authorities not to have been introduced till later. There were also
kohl pots and little tubes and jars of various forms. Tiny hands of
ivory on a stick for scratching the back were sometimes found.

The mirrors, from three to twelve inches in diameter, had handles
ornamented with flowers, particularly the well-beloved lotus, and
heads of the goddess Hathor and the god Bes. Vases and jars found in
the tombs were of various shapes, for wine, oils, spices, unguents,
scents, etc., but transparent glass ones are not found earlier than
the Twenty-sixth Dynasty. The kohl pots were to hold stibium and
antimony of copper to stain the eyelids and eyebrows and give the eyes
a wide-open appearance; also for such purposes were little hollow tubes
of wood, glass, ivory and alabaster, a column with a palm leaf and
figures of Bes. Sometimes the tubes were double, with movable covers
on a pivot and accompanied by a stick of bronze wood to apply the
unguent. The wicked Jezabel in the Bible is said to have “set her eyes
in stibium,” which was, however, a common Eastern practice.

Fine examples of such articles, with the pre-nomen of Amenophis III
and his wife Tyi, and of Tut-arch-Amen and his wife Anknes-Amen, have
been found. Hematite pillows or head rests, generally uninscribed,
and papyrus sceptres mounted in mother-of-emerald and faience, may
perhaps be added to this list and not exhaust it. Thus was the queen,
surrounded by all the paraphernalia of life, laid in her last resting
place. The Egyptian, as has been before said, spent much of his time
in preparing and providing for a future existence, and it is through
his death, as it were, and on tombs and monuments that we attain to any
realistic knowledge of his living days.

The queen is believed to have had a number of children besides Aahmes
and Nefertari, whose personality stands out pre-eminent among them.
Of these are Birpu, who appears on a statuette, Amenmes and Uazrmes.
Of Nebt’ta, one of the daughters, a scarab is known. And Mut’nefert,
subsequently queen, may also have been of this family.

Queen Mertytefs’ name calls up this active, capable ruling spirit
of the household and the court. Queen Nitocris comes before us as
the beauty of her time—the Mary Stuart of an early age, lovely,
captivating and admired, but not blameless in her life story. Queen
Sebek-nefru-ra is associated with father and husband in works of public
usefulness and benefit. But Queen Aah-hotep seems to bear with her an
atmosphere of femininity and tenderness. A devout worshipper of the
gods, we can picture her as a frequent attendant upon the services
and offerings in the temples. At home, a woman perchance with some
foibles and weaknesses and a truly feminine love for ornamentation, and
yet a mother who won an undying affection. Lamentations and mourning
doubtless followed her to the tomb, and upon her inanimate form was
lavished a wealth of adornment which bespoke the clinging tenderness of
the royal son whose name is found so often inscribed upon her ornaments.




CHAPTER SEVENTH.

AAHMES-NEFERTARI.


Aahmes, also called Amosis, son of Queen Aah-hotep and an Egyptian
father (whose history is as yet unknown), was one of the greatest
warriors and most noted kings of Egypt, and regarded as the savior of
his country, since he freed it from the long thrall of an alien race.
Ambition was evidently a ruling passion with him, but he appears to
have been devoted and even tender to those he loved. His wife, the
Princess Nefertari-Aahmes, or Aahmes-Nefertari, was long supposed to
be the daughter of an Ethiopian king, and therefore not of kin to him,
since her pictures on the monuments show a black skin, though Caucasian
features.

[Illustration: NEFERTARI AAHMES.]

Later researches have proved her to be his half-sister, the daughter of
his mother, but not of his father. She was evidently the first daughter
of Queen Aah-hotep’s marriage with Sequenenra, and with a more direct
title to the succession than her husband, so that there were state
reasons as well as private ones for the marriage. From Sequenenra,
therefore, he being of the Berber type, she took her coloring and
the right of succession, and she may perhaps be said to have been
three-quarters black. The name signifies “good or beautiful companion,”
and she was regarded with great veneration on earth and shared with her
mother, and mother-in-law, divine honors after death.

Thebes, which had risen to political consequence in the time of the
Eleventh and Twelfth Dynasties, was now the royal city, the safest home
of the royal family, and was said to have stood to Ethiopia, as well as
to Egypt, as Rome did to mediaeval Christendom. It was in Upper Egypt,
the sacred city, and devoted to the worship of the god Amen, or Amon,
whom the Greeks regarded as their Jove. From here went out the great
war chariots and the bands of soldiers to battle, and often, especially
at this period, to conquest.

“The chief peculiarity of the Egyptians,” says a writer who is an
authority, “is the remarkable closeness of their eyelashes on both
lids, forming a dense double fringe, which gives so animated an
expression to their almond-shaped eyes.” The very ancient and still
existing custom of blackening the edges of the eyelids with antimony
(kohl), which is said to serve a sanitary purpose, contributes to
enhance this natural expression. The eyebrows are straight and smooth,
never bushy. The mouth is wide and thick-lipped, and very different
from that of the Beduin or inhabitant of the oases. The high cheek
bones, the receding forehead, the lowness of the bridge of the nose
(this last in some pictures of the statues of Queen Nefertari-Aahmes
being noticeable), which is always distinctly separated from
the forehead, and the flatness of the nose itself are the chief
characteristics of the Egyptian skull; but as the jaw projects less
than those of most of the other African colored races, it has been
assumed that the skull is Asiatic and not African in shape. A headless
statue at Karnak and statuettes at various places exist. They suggest
a queenly bearing, and from these and the general description we must
form our mental picture of this dark-skinned lady. A light complexion
was much admired, but Queen Nefertari-Aahmes was of different type, and
perhaps set the fashion of her own style of beauty; at one place she
was painted yellow, and one authority claimed that she was only black
in a mythological sense, but it now seems to be agreed that to a Berber
father she owed her tint.

The two names, Nefruari and Nefertari, appear to be interchangeable,
and probably bear the same relation to each other as Mary and Maria. We
can see plainly the difference ’twixt our Jacks and Johns, our Marys
and Marias, but the alteration of a single letter in a foreign tongue
leaves us somewhat bewildered, and the Nofruaris and the Nefertaris,
the Nefrits and the Nofrits, etc., are often very puzzling, and, unless
great care is taken, may lead to serious complications and mistakes.

Our knowledge of this period comes largely from two sources, the tomb
of a naval officer in the service of Aahmes and the discoveries of
comparatively late years, which have brought to light many of the very
bodies of the kings, queens and princesses of this and subsequent
lines. Even in death the truth of the proverb seems to hold, that
“uneasy lies the head that wears a crown,” and not in what was intended
to be their last resting places, but in collections and museums, are
gathered many royalties whose eyes looked out on the light of an
ancient world.

Aahmes, son of Abuna, directly or indirectly the king’s namesake, was
an officer of the ship called “The Calf,” and later served on one named
“Ruling in Memphis,” which perhaps celebrated the reconquering of the
ancient capital. Of his early life there are some amusing records: “I
was too young to have a wife, and slept in the semt cloth and shennu
garment.” This was about 1586 B. C., and his age perhaps twenty. Nor,
following the example of his sovereigns, does he hesitate to blow
his own trumpet “As soon as I had a house,” says the martial hero,
“I was taken to a ship called the ‘North’ on account of my valor.”
Apparently, he could face the enemy early in life, but not a fair lady.
Diospolis, or Thebes, “hundred-gated Thebes,” was now the chief city,
and Officer Aahmes saw active service, but survived and was rewarded by
his monarch. The chronicle reads: “I brought very many prisoners. I do
not reckon them,” and, further, that he was “presented with gold seven
times in the face of the whole land.” The story of his exploits on his
tomb throws much light upon the history of the time.

In the summer of 1881, in a pit, near Thebes, was found a concourse
of mummies, the bodies of many kings and queens, among them Queen
Nefertari-Aahmes. The existence of royal tombs had long been suspected
from the various articles which had found their way into the market,
and the authorities were at length able to secure the Arab who was
the chief purloiner. He and his accomplices long obstinately resisted
all inducements, even that of imprisonment, to reveal their secret,
but finally yielded, and the bodies of various sovereigns of the
Seventeenth, Eighteenth, Nineteenth and Twentieth Dynasties (the
Twentieth was missing) were found.

The experienced archeologist can tell from the appearance of a mummy
case to what period it belongs. The oldest mummy in the world, until
recently, about which there was no doubt, is that of Saken-em-saf, son
of Pepi I, of the Sixth Dynasty. The mummies of the Eleventh Dynasty
are poorly made, brittle and yellowish; those of the Twelfth Dynasty
are black, and from these to the Seventeenth are also inferior. But
those of the Eighteenth are so finely embalmed that the limbs are
pliable and bend without breaking. At Thebes they were generally
painted yellow. Alexander the Great is said to have been buried in
honey, as was the case with others. Bitumen was used towards the time
of the Ptolemies, and grew hard with age. Later still, pieces of wood
were inserted, with the face painted upon them.

The “Book of the Dead,” so often spoken of, and whose reputed author
was the god Thoth, was a sort of Bible to the Egyptians, and contained
minute directions in regard to burial rites. It was written in
chapters, and was an accretion, taking shape gradually, some parts
being much older than others. It was seldom or never collected in one
roll. It is said that a fairly complete copy was ninety feet long and
about fifteen inches wide. It was written on papyrus; chapters of it
were buried with the dead, and extracts were inscribed on scarabs and
other objects and used in the same way. The book is a storehouse of
information as regards Egyptian theology and practice, and translations
of it exist in several languages besides English. Figures like small
mummies and called Ushabti, or Ushebti, “little servants,” to accompany
and attend upon the departed, were buried with them. This was probably
a survival of the original custom of killing some of his slaves at the
tomb of the master. In the Thirteenth Dynasty these images were made of
granite or wood; in the Eighteenth of faience, or made in moulds, and
from the Twenty-fourth to the Twenty-sixth Dynasty they were not much
used, and later were carelessly made. They were often inscribed with
the Sixth chapter from the Book of the Dead.

The coffins of the Eighteenth Dynasty were larger than the previous
ones, and were shaped in the form of a mummy, with inscriptions running
from the breast to the feet. Of such colossal size was that of Queen
Nefertari-Aahmes that it took sixteen men to move it, and it was over
seven metres in height. After the Eighteenth Dynasty the cases were
again smaller. The queen’s was made of innumerable layers of linen,
saturated and hardened together by some kind of glue, was painted
blue and yellow with a mesh-like effect, and the features, necklace,
bracelets, etc., picked out in blue. The face, evidently a portrait,
was large and round, with a sweet expression, and she wore an extensive
wig, with the plumes of Amen and Maut. In each hand she held the royal
“ankh,” or life sign, and the helmet and plumes, also the investiture
of Osiris, were befitting the wife of a warrior and one who was
regarded as a goddess.

There was also the coffin of the Lady Rai, nurse of Queen Nefertari, in
green garnished with bands of yellow. Within were inscriptions to the
goddess Maut, in honor of Ra, and other inscriptions with the name of
Ra, but the body had disappeared. There has been found also the little
blue coffin of the Princess Sitamon, daughter of Aahmes and Nefertari.

The theories and ideas of the Egyptians seem utterly strange to us. So
strong was their belief in a future existence that their whole life in
this world was a preparation for it, and the greatest care was taken
that every portion of the body should be preserved—that no limb or
member should be lacking in another world.

The Egyptian was, according to his own idea, archeological authorities
tell us, a composite being, composed of several different entities,
of which each had its functions and its own life. There was, first,
the body, then the double, or “Ka,” images of which are found so
constantly in the tombs and reproduced in paintings and statues, as we
remember that of Queen Mertytefs and her Ka, before described. This
double bore, in miniature, the form and lineaments of the departed,
and was a sort of second example of the body in a less dense material
than the corporal body. A colored projection but an aerial one of the
individual. It represented the departed, feature for feature, male or
female, adult or child.

After the double came the soul, “Ba” or “Bai,” which the popular
imagination represented under the figure of a bird; and after the
soul the luminous particle of light, “Khau,” detached from the divine
fire. None of these were imperishable, and the man left to himself
would die a second time and fall into nothing. By embalmment the
body was preserved from destruction, and by prayers and offerings
the other portions of this strange and composite whole. The double
remained always with the mummy, the others went and came. The places of
sepulchre for the sovereigns were the numerous pyramids, usually having
sides to the points of the compass and a door to the north; these
were frequently enlarged and altered by succeeding monarchs, as that
of Mycerenas was so extended and beautified by Queen Nitocris that it
often bore her name, instead of its first builder.

The stele were originally false doors by which the living world was
supposed to communicate with the dead. Food for the departed was
often placed before the door, and later represented upon it, which by
incantations became real. At last the stele were used only as a place
for inscriptions. This applies merely to funerary stele. Sometimes
there was a statue or bas-relief in the stele.

To the pyramids were added grottoes, rock, tombs and caves, not
alone for royalty, and the mastabas built of brick, like a truncated
pyramid, and so named by the Arabs because they resembled the long,
low seat used in Oriental houses. Naturally, the more important the
person buried was deemed the more indestructible were the materials
of his tomb, and the more care was taken to preserve them. Not many
tombs were found before the Fourth and Fifth Dynasties until the later
discovery of the burial places of the kings of the First Dynasty. It
is the mastabas and smaller tombs at Gizeh and elsewhere that teach us
about the earliest period in Egyptian history, those at Thebes later,
and Beni-Hasen the Middle Empire. The monuments and temples were the
canvas upon which the self-glorifying kings painted their own history,
and it is the absence of these, as has been before shown, which leaves
the period in comparative darkness. It is the tomb of Ty in the Fourth
Dynasty and those of Beni-Hassen in the Twelfth which are so invaluable
in giving the pictures of the daily life during their respective eras.

We read of a stele or tablet (which in the Eighteenth Dynasty were
usually rounded at the top) on which at the left is seated the figure
of King Amosis or Aahmes and “the divine spouse of Amen, the royal
spouse, Aahmes-Nefertari,” also at the left are seated King Amenophis
I and his spouse, Aahmes-Nefertari. “Is it the same queen?” questioned
Mariette, yet the spelling and the faces are different. There is also a
stele bearing the name of King Aahmes and his mother, Queen Aah-hotep.
Another statue is spoken of, whose pure profile recalls the handsome
portraits of Seti I. It represents the god Amen standing. On the base
we read in red ink, with the legend of Amenophis I, “the royal spouse
whom he loves, Aahmes-Nefertari.”

The mourning color of the Egyptians, as now of the Burmese, was yellow,
and it is curious to observe how varied in this respect are the customs
of different lands. With us, and all over Europe, since the days of
Rome black is the usual, as it seems the most natural, trapping of
woe; but it is stated that until 1498 white was worn in Spain for the
members of the family, as it or yellow now is in China. In Turkey the
mourning color is a bright violet, while formerly purple and violet
were assumed for the kings and cardinals of France. In Bokara and
other parts of Asia deep blue is used, and in Syria and Armenia, sky
blue. In Persia it is pale brown, the color of winter leaves; in the
Soudan, grayish brown, the color of the earth; and among the South Sea
Islanders a black and white striped goods serves for this purpose.

By different nations, too, various days in the week are observed for
public worship. The Christians keep Sunday, the Greeks Monday, the
Persians Tuesday, the Assyrians Wednesday, the Egyptians Thursday, the
Turks Friday, and the Jews Saturday.

At the time of a death, in token of grief the mourning women would
leave the house where the body was lying, put dust and mud on their
heads and faces, and with bare bosoms run through the streets, striking
themselves and uttering lamentations. Some of the pictures show even
little children thus testifying sorrow, and there is something both
pathetic and ludicrous in the scene. At the death and funeral of a
member of the royal family great ceremony was observed. The people
wept, the temples were closed, and no festival was kept for seventy-two
days. The mourners fasted and went round with mud on their heads and
their garments knotted together, like girdles, below the breast.
They marched in procession, singing funeral dirges. The statement is
somewhere made that women of quality were not embalmed immediately, but
in so warm a climate the process could not have been long delayed.

From the use of bitumen, “mumia,” the word “mummy” is derived. There
were several methods of preservation, varying in expense with the
dignity of the deceased and the financial ability of the survivors.
The work of preparation for the tomb was, especially in the case of
the wealthy and high-born, costly and protracted, and all details were
prescribed. The person who, in the service of the embalmer, commenced
the task by making a long cut in the side, was, as a matter of form,
it is generally believed, driven away with sticks and stones, but
some authorities deny this. The organs were then removed through this
opening, embalmed and placed in jars, each under the protection of
its special god, the four children of Horus. Mesta, with the head of
a man, was for the stomach, and, under the protection of Isis, thus
justifying a modern theory that a man can be influenced largely through
his appetite and is most amiable after dining. The jar Hapi, with the
head of an ape, held the smaller intestines, under the protection of
Nepthys. The jar Tuan-antef, with the head of a jackal, was for the
heart, guarded by Neith. Qubhsennuf was hawk-headed and held the liver.
Examples of all these may perhaps be seen in the New York Metropolitan
Museum among the Egyptian antiquities and other places. On a box for
funerary jars is a figure of Isis, and the inscription, “Says Isis, the
divine mother, queen of heaven, first of the gods: ‘I am come that I
may be for thy protection, Osiris Chonsu.’”

The body was laid in liquid natron for seventy days, and was then
stuffed with spices and natron and sewed up again. Various trees have
been supposed to furnish the frankincense used by ancient peoples, the
Indian Olibanum among them. The Egyptians used it in their religious
rites, burning it on the altars of Osiris, Isis and Pasht, while it
was exacted as tribute from some of the conquered nations. It was also
used by the Jews in their sanctuary. All parts of the tree emit an
agreeable odor, something like lemon, the sap hardens into the gum used
in commerce, being extracted by incisions in the bark, as is the case
with maple sugar. It is an evergreen, the leaves are prettily notched,
the flowers small, pink and star-like, and the fruit also very small
and three-sided. It grows in Persia and Arabia.

After the body was thus prepared, the skull, from which the brains had
been drawn through the nose, was filled with plaster and the nostrils
plugged with small rolls of linen, and obsidian eyes placed in the
sockets. The Book of the Dead provided a formula for all this. The eye
of Horus was placed upon the breast, which signifies the transformation
by which life is preserved and constantly renewed, and was consecrated
to the god Ptah. A scarab was laid on the neck, the nails were stained
with henna, rings were placed on the hands and chains and necklets on
the throat. The bandages were narrow strips of linen inscribed with
texts.

When the head was bandaged, an attendant recited this petition: “O most
august goddess, O lady of the West, O mistress of the East, come and
enter into the two ears of the deceased! O doubly powerful, eternal,
young and very mighty lady of the West and mistress of the East, may
breathing take place in the head of the deceased in the nether world.
Grant that he may see with his eyes, that he may hear with his two
ears, that he may breathe through his nose, that he may utter sounds
with his mouth and articulate with his tongue in the nether world.
Receive his voice in the hall of truth and justice and his triumph
in the hall of Seb, in the presence of the great lord of the West. O
Osiris (this addressed to the deceased), the thick oil which comes
from thee furnishes thy mouth with life and thine eye looketh into the
lower heaven, as Ra looketh upon the upper heaven. It giveth thee thy
two ears to hear that which thou wishest, just as Shu in Hebit heard
merely that which he wished to hear. It giveth thee thy nose to smell a
beautiful perfume, like Seb. It giveth thee thy mouth well furnished by
its passage (into the throat) like the mouth of Thoth when he weigheth
Maat. It giveth thee Maat (Law) in Hebit, O worshipper in Hetbenben,
the cries of thy mouth are in Siut. Osiris of Siut comes to thee, thy
mouth is the mouth of Ap-not in the mountains of the West.”

The god Osiris, so often referred to, was the great (unseen One), the
immortal divine spirit, and was always associated in the Egyptian’s
mind with the thought of immortality. He was usually colored blue,
the tint of the sky perhaps suggested perpetuity and immortality. The
Egyptians from the earliest times seem to have worshipped one divine
spirit under a thousand manifestations.

The coffins and covering were of wood, with human head and face;
painted with figures of gods, names and titles of the deceased, and
cartouch of the king. Inside was frequently a purple ground, painted
with yellow figures of apes, lions, etc., adoring Ra. The face on the
coffin was often a likeness, and the coffin was painted inside and
out with figures of protecting gods. Another coffin, more coarsely
made and with less of detail in its paintings, was placed over the
first to preserve it. A lady’s coffin sometimes contained spoons with
female heads and various toilette articles, mirrors, pins and cases for
henna, stibium and other cosmetics, while miniature figures, the little
“ushebti,” like troops of slaves, mounted guard. Sometimes these were
hollow and contained chapters from the Book of the Dead. An ordinance
required that the nearest city should embalm persons who were drowned
or seized by crocodiles.

The funeral procession included players on lyres, flutes, harps and
servants carrying inverted bouquets, a red calf for sacrifice and white
geese. A sort of court was held before the body was deposited in the
tomb, in which those who had accusations against the deceased were
allowed to present them. If these were sustained, the mummy was sent
back to the house; but if not, the priest cried “Approved! Let the good
be entombed, and may their souls dwell in Amenti, with Osiris. Judgment
is passed in her favor! Let her be buried!” The dead sometimes carried
a papyrus on which his good deeds were written. The mummy was placed
recumbent or upright in the tomb, and the soul was received by Horus
and conducted to Amenti, where a sort of Cerberus kept the gate of
Truth. The goddess of Justice, with scales of gold, weighed the virtues
of the deceased, which the god Thoth wrote down on a tablet, like the
scribes of their daily life, and, after reading, Osiris presented him
with the ostrich feather, the emblem of Truth, while Isis led him to
the abode of the gods, where he dwelt in perpetual honor and happiness.

Very poetical are some of the tomb inscriptions relating to the future
state. “The Shining One cometh who dwelleth in Netat, the Master who
dwelleth in Tini (Thinis), and Isis speaks upon thee. Nephthys holdeth
converse with thee, and the Shining Ones come up to thee, bowing down
even to the ground in adoration at thy feet, by reason of the power of
the writing which thou hast, O Pepi, in the region of Sa (Sabu?). Thou
goest forth to thy Mother Nut (i.e., the sky), and strengthen thy arm,
and she maketh a way for thee through the road to the sky” (perhaps
referring to the Milky Way) “to the place where Ra (the sun-deity)
abideth. Thou hast then opened the two gates of heaven, thou hast
opened the two doors of Quobhu (i.e., the celestial deep), thou hast
there found Ra and he watcheth over thee, he hath taken thee by thy
hand, he hath guided thee into temples of heaven, and he hath placed
thee upon the throne of Osiris.” We are reminded of some parts of
the book of Job or some of the picturesque speeches of our own North
American Indian.

Nefertari-Aahmes was a devout worshipper of the gods, like her mother
before her, and made valuable gifts to the temples, so these funeral
rites were doubtless observed with great care and ceremony, especially
as she had many children, some of whom survived her, to pay the last
tributes of love and respect. The list is given as Meryt-amen, the
eldest daughter, who died young; Sat-amen, a second daughter, who
died as an infant; Sa’pair, the eldest son, of whom some statuettes
and memorials remain, though he also appears to have died young and
did not succeed his father; Aah-hotep, doubtless named after the
beloved grandmother, and who also became queen later; Amenhotep
I, who succeeded his father, and Sat-Kames, a daughter. Besides
Nefertari-Aahmes, the king seems to have had another royal wife, called
Queen Anhapi, who bore him a daughter, Hent’ta’mehu, and a secondary
wife, whose name is preserved as Kasmut, and who bore him Tair and
other children. Queen on earth and goddess in heaven though she might
be, Queen Aahmes-Nefertari had the common human experience of sorrow;
she lost a number of children, and though holding the first place,
and doubtless having her own establishment, shared her husband’s
attention and affection with various rivals. Yet human ambition could
reach no greater height; she was recorded as “the royal daughter,
sister and great royal wife, royal mother, great ruler, mistress of
both lands.” The ancestress and foundress of her race, she had a
priesthood of her own, a large sacred shrine, and was worshipped like
the great gods at Abydos, Karnak and Thebes. She is believed to have
outlived her husband, and to have reigned temporarily for her son, who
was associated with her and worshipped with her at Thebes. “She sits
enthroned with her husband,” says one writer, “at the head of all the
Pharonic pairs and before all the royal children of their race, as the
specially venerated ancestress of the Eighteenth Dynasty.” Her title of
wife of the god Amen expressly designated the chief priestess of the
tutelary god of Thebes.

The wife and children of Aahmes often adopted or combined his name
with their own and encircled it with their cartouch. The king was
called “the golden Horus, the binding together of the two lands.” His
coffin and body were found at Deir-el-Bahri. The coffin was of the new
style, plain in outline, less massive and shaped to the figure behind,
painted yellow, picked out with blue, instead of gilt. The body was
fairly preserved, the head long and small, with thick and wavy hair,
not shaved, as later. The muscles were strong and vigorous, and he
might have been something over fifty at the time of his death. Not a
long life, but that of a warrior was perhaps necessarily a hard one.
The mummy case of the queen was one of the largest and most magnificent
ever discovered, and at the time it was found contained also the mummy
of Thothmes or Tehutimes III, which, left unexamined and not properly
cared for, decomposed, and had to be buried. A headless statue of Queen
Aahmes-Nefertari, smaller statuettes, scarabs and a bas-relief or a
statue in which she appears with her son Amenophis I exist. So king
and queen passed from earth to the delights of heaven, and, as Curtis
expresses it, exchanged “the silver for the golden goblet.”

Amenhotep, Amenophis or Amenothes, son of Aahmes and Nefertari-Aahmes,
succeeded his father, and married his sister Aah-hotep II, or some say
Nefutari, of whom, beyond her name, we know little or nothing. The king
was about twenty, she probably younger, at the time. Like his father
before him, he was a warrior, and is pictured holding captives by the
hair, probably Lydians. His children are given as Uaz’mes, Aahmes,
Tehutimes I, Neb’ta and Mutnefert, whose statue is at Karnak. The first
two are on the tomb of a certain Peperi, where the king holds Prince
Uaz’mes on his knee.

The mummy of the king is among those that have been discovered. It was
clothed in an orange robe, held in place by bands of linen. There was a
mask of wood and painted pasteboard identical with the outside. He was
enveloped from head to foot with long garlands, among which a wasp had
crawled, attracted by the flowers, and thus preserved for centuries.
According to the traditions, he also was a devout worshipper of the
gods, and accorded divine honors. So for all these had come the day
when they drew towards “the land that loveth silence.”




CHAPTER EIGHTH.

HATSHEPSUT.


With Hatshepsut, or Hatsu, some 1600 B. C., we come to the most
celebrated of all the Egyptian queens, not perhaps excluding the
world-renowned Cleopatra, and her reign bears also a noteworthy
feature, an especial ornament to a woman’s brow—it was a reign of
peace. Her father and brothers, especially the younger, were warriors,
but she was not. To the male of all species the fighting instinct
more particularly and rightfully belongs. No wars of defence, none of
aggression and conquest, disturbed the peaceful course of her rule. The
arts flourished, and friendly expeditions sought distant shores to gain
fresh knowledge of the outer world, to extend the hand of fellowship,
and to exchange in the ordinary channels of commerce the products and
manufactures of one land for those of the other.

[Illustration: HATASU.]

No such lengthened gap exists between Hatshepsut and the previous kings
as we have noted earlier in our study. She was in direct descent,
being the great-grand-daughter of Aahmes and Nefertari-Aahmes, and
the grand-daughter of Amenhotep or Amenophis I. Her father was Tutmes
or Tahutmes I, “Thut’s child,” and her mother, probably his sister,
Aahmes, A’mose or Amensi, of whom there is a profile portrait in one of
Maspero’s books. Some things suggest that the mother of Queen Amensi
was of different and higher birth than the mother of Tahutmes, and
this may account for the position which seemed at once accorded to
Hatshepsut. Another legend states that the god Amen was Hatshepsut’s
father, and being of divine origin, a sort of Minerva sprung from
the brain of Jupiter, she took unquestioned the first place; but
she was evidently of the blood royal and the arrangement which gave
her precedence of her brothers and claim to the crown did not seem
to be disputed. Every princess at her birth received the title of
“royal consort.” A son and daughter of Tahutmes, probably older than
Hatshepsut, died in childhood, the former named Uatmes (who by some
is believed to be brother rather than son of Tahutmes) and a daughter
Kheb-no-fru-ra or Nefer’kebt. Tahutmes himself is considered the son of
Amenhotep I and Queen Sen-semb.

Tahutmes I, like his predecessors, was a warrior. He fought in the
north, made conquests in Palestine and Syria and penetrated into
Mesopotamia. A stele, erected east of the Euphrates, bore record of
his victories, but his daughter adopted a different policy. She and
her brother regarded many of these conquests as empty possessions,
difficult to retain and of no real value to the kingdom, so preferred
to abandon them.

Hatshepsut rejoiced in the usual wealth of names, in addition to or
instead of that by which she is most generally known, Hatasu, each
writer selecting a different one for his own reasons. These were
Hatshopsitou, Hasheps, Hatshepsut, which seems to be generally used by
Petrie, Khnumt-Amen, Chuemtamun, the throne name Ra-ma-ka, Maat-ka-ra,
etc., as derived from different languages and given by different
authorities.

The Egyptian’s awe of and respect for his monarch was usually so
great that he hesitated to speak of him directly, but used some
circumlocution or descriptive phrase. The name of the god Ra seems to
have been frequently, though not invariably, introduced. This was the
principal solar deity of Egypt, the “sun-god,” the “father of gods and
men,” the chief seat of this very ancient worship being Heliopolis. The
sun’s disk was his emblem, and he was pictured as hawk-headed.

The tie between Tahutmes I and his daughter, admirable wherever seen,
was one of close affection, and the former doubtless recognized and
took pride in the ability of his gifted child. The male historians,
with one or two exceptions, seem rather grudgingly to admit Hatasu’s
claims, pass somewhat slightingly over her achievements and attribute
to her successors what may really be her due. Miss Edwards, on the
contrary, is fired with enthusiasm, encircles this queenly figure with
the halo of her own poetic imagination and claims for her certain
engineering works which others believe to be the performance of her
successors.

There is one familiar portrait bust, a copy of which is in the
Metropolitan Museum in New York and in other places, which has been
appropriated by different authorities to different queens. It is a
smiling, womanly face, with well-rounded lips and a dimpled chin.
Mariette calls it Queen Ti, Maspero believes it to be the wife of
Horemheb, and Miss Edwards claims it as Hatasu. The original, in
limestone and of colossal size, is at Gizeh. It is a masterpiece of
Egyptian art and was found in a chamber back of the obelisk of Hatasu
at Karnak, which perhaps gives color to Miss Edwards’ theory. She says
of it, “the eyes laugh, the lips all but speak, and every feature
is alive with a vivacious charm which is the rarest achievement in
sculpture.” Certainly, if it be this queen, beauty and charm were added
to mental capacity. A half-mocking smile wreathes the lips and seems to
suggest a keen sense of humor.

Maspero describes her, probably in later life, and says her portraits
have “refined features and a proud and energetic expression. The oval
of the face is elongated, cheeks a little hollow, eyes deep set under
arch of brows, lips thin and tightly closed.” Many little statuettes,
headless statues, etc., exist in various places. The temple of Deir el
Bahri was approached by an avenue of sphinxes, each figure head being
a portrait of the queen, two of which are preserved at Berlin. One,
brought from Thebes and thought to be done in comparatively recent
years with brows and eyes inlaid, is in the Metropolitan Museum. Her
Ka statue was in her temple in the shape of a small bearded man, which
was probably taken at the period when she wore male attire. It has the
Ka arms and the Ka name of the queen, grasps the ankh and feather of Ma
in its right hand, and a human headed staff, also like the queen, in
its left. Her cartouch is on the shoulder of the previously mentioned
statue and the father and daughter are often united in a double
cartouch.

Hatshepsut has been called the Semiramis, the Catharine, and the
Elizabeth of Egyptian history. Bold and clever, no ideal womanly soul
was this, but the masculine grasp, the masculine intellect was hers.
Strong but centered on a few her love was probably not given to the
many; her attachment to her father cannot be doubted. Her ambition and
determination to keep the royal power is evident, but it was not the
ambition of the soldier and the conqueror. She loved power, she wished
to rule, but the belongings of others did not excite her cupidity. Her
desire was to build up her own kingdom, and the way to that was not,
in her eyes, through annexation and conquest. No claims of posterity,
no pleas for “the cause of humanity” stained her pathway with blood.
One of her boasts was that she had imported and caused to grow a great
variety of trees. Some philosopher has said that he who can make two
blades of grass grow where one grew before is the greatest benefactor
of his race, and some such credit as this seems rightfully to belong to
Queen Hatshepsut.

The early historians, whose mistakes later discoveries have corrected,
combined Hatshepsut and Nitocris, calling this composite figure
Amen-Nitocris, and said that she was the last of the Memphite
sovereigns and by a marriage with Thothmes united the crowns of Upper
and Lower Egypt. That she was handsome among women and brave among
men, that she governed with splendor, added to the temple of Karnak
and built the smallest of the pyramids. But the patient research of
scholars has disentangled the two stories and given to each her own
meed of fame.

The mummy of Tahutmes I was among those found at Deir el Bahri and the
body showed him to have been a man of vigor, with a fine form. His
coffin and other relics, bricks with his name, etc., were also found.
Of his mother Sensenb there was a picture on the walls of the temple
at Deir el Bahri as of Hatshepsut’s mother, Queen Aahmes, wearing the
royal asp and head-dress. In these the conventional form is of course
strictly preserved and yet there is a certain individuality. Pictures
(reproductions of them) may be seen in Petrie’s and Mahaffy’s history
of Egypt, as in other places. An ivory wand of Queen Aahmes, scarabs,
etc., remain. Queen Mut’nefert appears to have been another wife of
Tahutmes I and mother of Tahutmes II. She was said to have been a
daughter of Amenhotep and appears on the statue of her son Tahutmes II
at Karnak as “royal daughter, royal wife.” “A fine statue of her,” says
Petrie, “made of sandstone, was found in the chapel of Uazmes and bears
the inscription ‘The good god, lord of both lands, Aa’kheperren’ra
(Tahutmes II) made by him his monuments of his mother; royal wife,
royal mother, Mut’nefert, makheru.’” These relics seem to give proof of
the respect and affection of the children for their parents, but beyond
our limited knowledge of the bare facts of their relationships the two
queens are but mere names and we turn to the more clearly defined and
striking figure of the great queen Hatshepsut.

In the latter part of his reign Tahutmes I associated his daughter
with him in the imperial power, as he had probably taken her into his
counsel previously in matters of state policy and shared with her all
the pleasures of his daily life. Their mutual devotion and his high
appreciation of her great abilities is evident, even after the lapse of
centuries.

The two half-brothers of Hatshepsut were Tahutmes II and Tahutmes III,
or as later authorities say Tahutmes III was son of Tahutmes II, the
latter proved to be a ruler of great ability, but neither seemed to
hold the place in the father’s regard that she did, and being much
younger were naturally not equally companionable to him. The limestone
statue of Queen Mut-nefert, mother of Tahutmes II, before referred to,
was found at Thebes in 1886 and is now at Gizeh. Her son had it carved
and it was in the ruins of a little temple. She is seated, in a long
white robe, which shows the form and the flesh is colored yellow. The
whole is refined and well proportioned, and despite the mutilation of
the nose one notices the sweetness of expression, lightened by large
eyes. To this day one sees the type near Thebes. The mother of Tahutmes
III was more truly a concubine and was called the Lady As’t, she was a
royal mother but not a royal wife.

Shortly before her father’s death, according to the Egyptian custom,
Hatshepsut married her brother Tahutmes II, who shared the throne with
her or she with him, but it is evident she was the ruling spirit. There
is little doubt that she was the elder of the two; it is estimated
that at this time she was about twenty-four and Tahutmes seventeen. A
somewhat similar instance to this is narrated by the African traveller,
Captain A. St. H. Gibbons, who describes an ancient custom which he
found prevailing at Nalolo, whereby the eldest surviving sister of the
ruling king was invested with the prerogatives of a queen, without
whose advice and consent her brother could not arrange matters of
state. She was absolute in her own district, held the power of life and
death over her subjects and wedded or deposed a husband at will.

A statue of Tahutmes II exists at Gizeh, which bears some resemblance
to the ancient King Chafre. He is not of large size, has fine pathetic
eyes, a gentle expression and perhaps resembles his mother. That no
love was lost between the consorts is evident from the fact that
Hatsheput conferred such special marks of favor upon her architect
Semut, and after the death of Tahutmes II (in which old historians,
some of them, though perhaps unfairly, were disposed to implicate her)
she erased his name from many of the monuments, giving all honor,
where possible, to her father or keeping it for herself, to the great
bewilderment of later day students. She is said to have detained
Tahutmes II, in his younger days, in Buto, away from her palace and
the seat of power, and doubtless relegated him to the background
wherever she could. No more than Queen Elizabeth perhaps had custom
and conventionality permitted her to stand quite alone, would she have
accepted a consort.

Dress, which had for many reigns and centuries remained unchanged,
began somewhat to alter at the time of the Eighteenth Dynasty and more
rapidly later. The highest orders of women wore petticoats or gowns
secured at the waist by a colored sash, or a strap over the shoulder
and over this a large loose robe of the finest linen and tied in front
and under the breast, the right arm was left exposed at religious
ceremonies and funerals. Another description says that the long tunic,
called a basui, was suspended by straps or bracers over the shoulders
or a short petticoat with the body strapped over the shoulder and a
loose upper garment, which exposed the breast and which could be easily
laid aside. There also came changes in the patterns of beads, mode of
glazing, hair dressing, furniture and the painting of tombs. The net
work of beads was of course largely used for the decoration of mummies.
The admixture of blood with Syrian and other captives, as wives and
concubines, seemed to introduce a new ideal type, with small features
and fascinating, graceful figures. The ends of the braided hair were
fringed during the Middle Empire, and during the New the face was
framed with wonderful plaits and short tresses, which were secured with
combs. Or, more naturally, it hung loose or was bound with a fillet.
Female servants wore their hair fastened at the back of the head with
loops or plaits. They had a plain garment with short sleeves, but
threw off the upper part when working. In the earliest times, as has
before been said, men seemed to care for dress more than women. From
the queen to the peasant female attire was similar, and from the Fourth
to the Eighteenth Dynasty there was little change. About the time of
Hatshepsut it assumed a new character, and the upper part of the body
was also clothed. At one period color and pattern had been almost
excluded and the higher classes wore linen so fine that the figure
showed through. Bands woven or embroidered were later added, but their
neighbors, the Syrians, always wore more elaborate embroidery than
the Egyptians. Shend’ot was the name of the royal dress under the Old
Empire. Men wore a short skirt round the hips, and a second was added
during the Middle Empire; in one century this was short and narrow,
in another wide and shapeless, and in a third, peculiarly folded; the
breast was also covered, and the apron, now chiefly a female appanage,
was then exclusively the property of men.

Costumes differed with classes, yet, as with us, a fashion initiated
by uppertendom would sometimes descend and spread. The lords and the
priests and priestesses in offering sacrifices bore a panther skin
thrown over the shoulder, the small head and forepaws hanging down.
To the hindpaws long ribbons were attached, which were drawn forward,
and it was the fashion to play with them when sitting idle. Perhaps it
was an aid to conversation thus to trifle, as with Madame de Stael’s
well-known sprig of poplar. Soldiers and merchants wore white garments
bordered with colored fringes. Policemen carried staves, and priests
went about in long white robes with aprons and jewelled collars.

The woman’s short petticoat under the tunic, called a basni, was white,
red, yellow and sometimes, in the Middle Empire, green. The higher
orders sometimes secured the petticoat at the waist with a colored
sash. Occasionally there was only one sleeve for the left arm. The
cloak of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Dynasties fell over the arms with
a short sleeve added and at the end of the Twentieth Dynasty there was
a thick underdress. The bare foot of the earliest times, as has been
shown, was later sandalled and shod.

As time went on the tendency seemed to be more and more to vary
from the fashions of the Garden of Eden and to add to the amount
of clothing. The more civilized the nation the more elaborate the
covering. The primitive Egyptian thought more of painting and rouging
the face and oiling the limbs, of both living and dead, than he did of
dress. Two colors were chiefly used, green, with which under the Old
Empire they put a line below the eye, and black for brows and lids, to
make the eyes look larger and more brilliant. The eyelids were dyed
with mestem, the finger nails made red with henna. For this, of course,
many kohl pots and mirrors were needed. The latter were of burnished
metal, chiefly of copper, round, with wooden or ivory handles and
ornamented with carved lotus buds. Necklaces and bracelets on the upper
arm and wrist were worn by both men and women, but the latter only
used anklets. Earrings were round, single loops of gold, and rings,
especially on the third finder and thumb, were numerous.

Of the daily life of a queen we have no detailed account, but various
pictures and inscriptions make a sort of outline which study and
imagination may fill up and not be utterly astray. One writer has
sketched some such programme as this, of course that of a queen
who was herself regent, or ruled in her own right. After the first
meal of the day the queen would go to the throne room and listen to
reports, petitions, etc., doubtless attended by scribes, who were more
ubiquitous than even the modern reporter, to note down everything and
extol her majesty’s power, clemency and charm. Before the heat grew
excessive she might walk in the garden or among the colonnades of the
palace or ride out to take the air and view the public works which were
in process of building.

Neither horses nor camels are represented on the monuments in the
earliest times. Persons of distinction were borne in chariots or
chairs carried by bands of slaves, and the ass or mule was the beast
of burden. A royal chariot was sometimes adorned by a burnished shield
rising above the back, carved with open work and lined with silk.
It had two wheels, and a pair of horses were attached to the car by
a single trace, their heads held up by a bridle made fast to a hook
in front of the saddle. The long reins passed through a loop at the
side; the horses’ heads were adorned with plumes, and the harness and
housings ornamented with the royal devices in gold, silver and brass.
Sometimes for ladies there was a seat, one in each chariot, but the
usual rule was not to have any, a man stood. Says one writer, “When the
queen rides she stands on a dais borne at speed by six horses abreast,
and looks like a flying goddess.” Thus perhaps our fancy may paint
Queen Hatshepsut.

Later came the mid-day dinner, usual in Egypt, then doubtless a rest
during the hottest hours, after which the reception of ambassadors and
court dignitaries and an evening given more to pleasures, such as music
and watching the acrobatic sports and juggling of trained performers
and the dancing of female slaves. The guest whom the queen delighted to
honor had a special place assigned him at table, portions sent to him
from the royal dishes and sometimes, as a particular mark of favor, had
a gold chain placed about his neck by the monarch’s own hand.

The throne room was probably a magnificent apartment of immense size
with a polished floor, on which were laid the skins of beasts. Enormous
statues of the gods, chief among them, Osiris and Isis, were ranged
on either side, between tall granite columns with lotus capitals,
looking like a forest of great trees. The throne of ivory stood on a
raised platform, to which one ascended by steps, guarded on either
side by carven figures of sphinxes and crouching animals. Behind were
again immense statues of Justice and Truth. The steps were of valuable
marbles, and the throne itself inlaid with jewels, all the numbers
and designs were symbolic, the footstool was of precious marbles, in
a gold frame, and above the throne was a canopy of silk upheld by
slender white and gold columns and embroidered with the stars and
constellations. Bands of soldiers and officers, richly attired, waited
upon the queen. She, on all solemn occasions, wore the double crown of
Egypt, which one writer describes as a graceful conical bonnet of white
silk, ending in a knob like a pomegranite, the color white, of Upper,
as the outer band of gold lined with red silk, was of Lower Egypt, the
vulture wings and the raised asp. Her garments were of finest linen
with silk robe of white and green and a girdle adorned with diamonds
and precious stones. With these or similar surroundings we imagine
Queen Hatshepsut.

There is a picture in Erman of King “Tuet-anch-amun” giving audience
to a governor of Ethiopia. The king wears his war helmet and carries a
whip and sceptre, while the governor bears a sceptre and fan as sign
of rank. The king is called “Lord of Hermothis.” Sceptre and whip
doubtless Hatshepsut could wield right royally, but the war bonnet
she probably had little occasion for. Some writers claim that it
was her father’s conquests which gave her immunity from warfare and
that it was her peaceful reign and neglect to keep the wild tribes
in orderly submission that paved the way for the career of bloodshed
which distinguished her great successor, Tahutmes III, so that on this
question, as on most, there will always remain a wide difference of
opinion. But that a peaceful reign is in many respects a great blessing
and a justifiable cause of pride to its successful promoter, and that
peace and not war is the ideal state, cannot be denied.

The coronation of Hatshepsut, the building of her great temple at Deir
el Bahri and the expedition to Punt are events of such moment that they
deserve a volume rather than the narrow space of a single chapter to do
them justice.




CHAPTER NINTH.

HATSHEPSUT (CONCLUDED).


An inscription in the temple of Karnak reads thus, it is as it were the
deed of gift of the royal father Tahutmes I to his favorite child, and
addressed to the god Amen: “I bestow the Black Land and the Red Land
upon my daughter, the queen of Lower and Upper Egypt Ma-Ka-ra, living
eternally. Thou hast transmitted the world into her power, thou hast
chosen her as king.” Hatshepsut claimed divine origin in that the god
Amen had taken upon him the person of her father and in an especial
manner considered herself the daughter of the god. Hatshepset spelled
with the e means “the first among the favorite women,” but the queen
changed the e to u and later called herself Hatshepsut, which signifies
“the first among the great and honorable nobles of the kingdom,” which
she considered more befitting her exalted position.

The Eighteenth Dynasty is included in the Golden Age of Egyptian
history, and in no period was its power more widely felt, its
individual monarchs more remarkable or its architectural and literary
remains grander or more impressive.

Before his death Tahutmes I seems to have had celebrated the marriage
of his two children, his daughter of twenty-four and his son of
seventeen. All things combined to put Hatshepsut in the first place,
her more royal heritage, by the mother’s side, her father’s devotion
to her, her superiority in years and her more striking talents, while
Tahutmes II was perhaps both physically and mentally her inferior.
Death at last had severed the tie which bound father and daughter
together, but no such tender feeling seems to have existed between the
two now occupying the throne, hers was the dominant will, hers is the
prominent figure. After this she frequently wore male attire and the
dress and ornaments belonging to a king, and doubtless, had it been a
matter of choice, she would have been a man.

She styles herself “King Horus abounding in divine gifts, mistress of
diadems, rich in years (not a claim the modern lady is ever anxious to
establish) the golden Horus, goddess of diadems, queen of Upper and
Lower Egypt, daughter of the sun, consort of Ammon, daughter of Ammon,
living forever and dwelling in his breast.” Another inscription reads,
speaking of her by her name Cheremtamun, “He has created (her) in order
to exalt his splendor. She who creates beings like the god Chefr’a. She
whose diadems shine like those of the god of the horizon.”

She used both the male and female sign and the title, “daughter of
the sun.” As the sphinx bore sometimes a male, sometimes a female
head, so this strange and wonderful woman assumed now the one, now
the other character. A curious life this old Egyptian history brings
before us, so permeated as it was with the constant thought of death
and its belief, real or assumed, in the actual intercourse with a
race of superior beings, gods, and yet set forth in the lowest images
of the brute creation. To the poor and uneducated doubtless as in
all idolatrous countries, the semblance seemed the reality and their
thought did not pierce beyond the image before them, but the more
intellectual and spiritual minds must have rent the veil of sense and
stretched out longingly to the infinite beyond, if peradventure they
might “feel after and find” the truly godlike.

Hatshepsut did not at once set to work, like the early kings, to build
a pyramid in which she might herself be interred. Mundane subjects at
first occupied her, and later she built a memorial to her father in the
form of an obelisk which described his powers and virtues, and temples
for the worship and to the glory of the gods.

Probably the regulation of the country and the administration of
internal affairs occupied the earliest years of Hatshepsut’s rule,
after the death of Tahutmes I, but in them she was also preparing for
the expedition which was one of the great features of her reign and
took place in its ninth year. Punt, a country on the eastern bank of
the Red Sea, had been, to some extent, known to the Egyptians in the
earliest times, those of Chafre’ of the Fourth Dynasty. “Under the name
of Punt,” says one writer, “the old inhabitants of Kemi meant a distant
land washed by the great ocean, full of valleys and hills, abounding in
ebony and other rich woods, balsams, spices, precious metals and stones
and of animals, hunting-leopards, panthers, dog-headed apes, etc.” It
was the Ophir of the Egyptians, the present coast of Somali, perhaps
the land in sight of Arabia, but separated by the Red Sea.

Old traditions said that it was the original seat of the gods, and
from it had travelled the holy ones to the Nile valley, at their head
Amen, called Kak, as king of Punt, Horus and Hathor. This last was the
queen and ruler of Punt, Hor, the holy morning star, which rose to
the west of the land. The god Bes also was peculiarly associated with
the country. Under the last king of the Eleventh Dynasty is said to
have taken place the first journey to Ophir and Punt, and the envoys
sent were attended by three thousand men and brought back spices
and precious stones. After that it seemed to relapse in the popular
imagination into a sort of fairyland which was inhabited by strange
serpents.

Like a new Columbus the great queen decided to attempt the rediscovery
and exploration of these distant shores. Amen of Thebes, the lord of
gods, it is said, had suggested the thought to her, “because he held
this ruler so dear, dearer than any other king who had been in this
country.” Pictures and accounts of this expedition were afterwards
placed in illustration on the walls of the temple of Deir-el-Bahari,
built by the queen, and the inscription concludes with the statement
that nothing like it had been done under any king before. “And,” says
an authority on these subjects, “it speaks the truth. Hatasu showed
her people the way to the land whose products were later to fill the
treasuries not only of the Pharaohs, but also of the Phoenicians and
the Jews.”

It was a peaceful expedition, perhaps the only one that had ever been
sent forth, this voyage of discovery, nearly sixteen hundred years
before the Christian Era; but of course great preparations and even
some military ones had to be made that in case of unexpected attack
they might be prepared. Ships were built for the expedition, and
doubtless years passed between the time of the first conception of the
enterprise and its execution.

An inscription by the picture of the squadron thus describes it.
“Departure of the squadron of the Lord of the two Worlds, traversing
the great sea on the Good Way to the Land of the gods, in obedience to
the will of the King of the gods, Amen of Thebes. He commanded that
there should be brought to him the marvellous products of the Land of
Punt, for he loveth the Queen Hatasu above all other kings that have
ruled this land.”

A canal connecting the Nile with the Red Sea which has been attributed
to Seti I Miss Edwards claims as an engineering feat of Hatasu, as it
would shorten the length of the voyage rather than to take the almost
inconceivably long trip around the west coast of Africa, the Cape of
Good Hope, the Mosambique Channel and the coast of Zanzibar.

The ships, five in number, were large and stately for the time. They
are described as having a narrow keel with stern and prow high above
the water, seventy feet in length and with no cabin accommodations. A
raised platform at either end, with a balustrade, probably afforded
some shelter to the officers. A single mast supported the spreading
sail, there were no decks and the hull was fitted with seats for the
rowers. After the Old Empire all large boats were adapted for sailing,
as well as rowing. Other vessels of this or a little later time were
one-decked galleys with thirty oars, with seats and shrines and the
stern ornamented with figures of animals. The cabin of those of royal
or high rank was a stately house, with roof and pillars, sides brightly
colored, in the fore, large paintings and the stern a gigantic lotus.
The blade of the oar was like a bouquet of flowers with the head of the
king at top, the sails the richest cloth of gay colors. A royal vessel
of this description belonged to King Thothmes III, Hatasu’s successor
and was called “Star of the two countries.”

Another description speaks of war ships having the poop twisted, with
armed mariners in helmets of brass, with four short masts and on each
a large castle containing bowmen with steel-headed arrows. Upon the
prow a sort of fortress, the soldiers carrying long spears and oval
shields decorated with hieroglyphics in brilliant colors. Above the
rowers large black Ethiopians in steel cuirasses and long swords. The
captains in variegated armor and accompanied by a thousand soldiers
and three hundred rowers. The prow ornamented with a lion’s head and
colossal shoulders across a broad gilded image of the feathered globe
of the sun, the emblem of Egypt and the inscription, “Mistress of the
World.” But Hatasu’s fleet was going on a peaceful errand and required
no such panoply of war. Experienced seamen managed it, while soldiers,
ambassadors and, some say, even ladies, accompanied it and bore with
them a variety of presents to win the friendship and favor of the
inhabitants of this strange land. The envoys had a small guard of
soldiers, but all included did not number more than two hundred and ten
men.

The voyagers were met with a friendly welcome and returned with stores
of treasures. The inhabitants of Punt lived in little round shaped
huts, built on stages and reached by ladders, all under the shade of
spreading palms. A picture on the wall of the temple shows the prince
of the land Parihu by name, with his wife, Ati or Aty, the latter fat
and ungainly (though probably considered a specimen of great beauty
by her countrymen), with a donkey to ride upon, followed by two sons
and a young daughter, the last giving promise of rivaling her mother
in rotundity of outline. Gold, spices, ivory, incense bearing trees,
to the number of thirty-one, precious gums, used in the service of the
temple, and various animals were brought back to Egypt as a result
of this most successful journey. The return was celebrated by a high
festival in the temple. Hatshepsut or Hatasu appeared in fullest royal
attire, adorned in the richest manner, a helmet on her head, a spotted
leopard skin covering her shoulders and her limbs “perfumed like fresh
dew.” She offered incense to the god Amen, as his priestess, bearing
two bowls full and weighing out gold with her own hand. This was before
the sacred boat of Amen Ra, with a ram’s head at each end, and carried
by high priests, also in leopard skins. The Naka, or incense bearing
trees, were borne in tubs, and the weights for weighing the precious
metals were gold rings in the shape of recumbent oxen.

Later, as was his iconoclastic wont, Rameses II destroyed some of these
pictures and inscriptions and inserted his own name.

Although the name of Tahutmes II, husband and co-ruler with the queen,
is not specially mentioned in connection with this great expedition,
he shared in the after festival. He, too, designated by his court name
of King Menkhefer-ka-ra, offered incense in the boat of Amen, carried
on the shoulders of men. “Thus,” says Miss Edwards, “to the sound of
trumpets and drums, with waving of green boughs and shouts of triumph,
and followed by an ever gathering crowd, the great procession takes
its way between avenues of sphinxes, past obelisks and pylons, and up
one magnificent flight of steps after another till the topmost terrace
of the Great Temple is reached, where the Queen herself welcomed them
to the presence of Hathor, the Beautiful, the Lady of the Western
Mountain, the Goddess Regent of the Land of Punt.”

At what period is not exactly known, but of course earlier than this,
since he is believed to have designed the beautiful temple of Deir el
Bahri, the queen called to her assistance the services of the architect
Senmut, whose statue is in the Berlin Museum. He, it is implied,
usurped the place in Hatasu’s affection which rightfully belonged to
her husband, but of this it is not possible to speak with any degree of
certainty or authority. We only know that he was a man of great ability
in his own line, of intelligent mind and skillful hand, and was highly
appreciated by her majesty. In an inscription in the Berlin Museum he
says his lady ruler made him “great in both countries” and “chief of
the chiefs” in the whole of Egypt. The buildings which the queen and he
erected are said to be among the most tasteful, complete and brilliant
in the land. He was of lowly birth, and therefore his position was the
more surprising. He appears to have occupied in the queen’s counsels
something of the place of Disraeli to Queen Victoria, whose Jewish
origin made his occupancy of the position he gained remarkable. After
Senmut’s death Hatasu raised to him a stone memorial as a token of
gratitude, with his portrait in black granite and in an attitude of
repose. On his shoulder were the short but significant words, “there
was not found in writing his ancestors.” He is also introduced in
an inscription, as himself speaking, where he used the male pronoun
“he” in mentioning the queen refers to his own services and ends with
styling her “the lord of the country, the King of Makara.”

Senmut was evidently the chief counsellor and favorite of Hatshepsut,
but there was also another highly regarded officer who shared with or
succeeded him in the queen’s favor and good graces. This was a certain
Aahmes, who had also served her father, Thothmes, or Tahutmes I, and
whose tomb was discovered by Brugsch, and bears this inscription, “I
was during my existence in the favor of the king, and was rewarded by
His Holiness, and a divine woman gave me further reward, the defunct
great queen Makara (Hashop), because I brought up her daughter, the
great queen’s daughter, the defunct Nofrerura.” It is of course plain
that he survived the queen, but we do not know whether he met with
equal favor at the hand of her successor. Possibly the mother’s heart,
little given to tenderness, may have had an especial softness towards
this “nurse” or tutor of her dead child, her father’s trusted servant
and perhaps, on that very account, hers also.

Two children were born to the queen, both daughters, Neferura, the
heiress, who is spoken of as “the mistress of both lands,” who died
in the beginning of the reign of Tahutmes III, and Hatasu Meri or
Merytra, who it is estimated was born about 1512 B. C. and became
heiress Princess, inheriting all her mother’s rights. To establish the
throne more firmly therefore, she was married to Tahutmes III. This
king was long supposed to be the youngest son of Tahutmes I, but the
latest authorities, although they do not speak with absolute assurance,
incline to believe he was the son of Tahutmes II, by a concubine, hence
he was in one case the uncle, and in the other the half or step-brother
of the young princess, but with a less direct title to the throne than
she. A certain Renekheb is also spoken of as a tutor of the young
queen. This marriage appears to have taken place when they were both
children and before the death of Tahutmes II, which is proved by the
cartouches of Tahutmes II and Tahutmes III being found together upon
some of the monuments, and at the same time suggests that the juvenile
pair, nominally at least, shared in the government.

Tahutmes II, born about 1533 B. C., appears to have died at about
thirty, in 1503, and some writers maintain that Hatshepsut usurped the
power which rightfully belonged to Tahutmes III, but Miss Edwards (ever
ready to champion her heroine) finds in the above fact strong proof
that the queen really protected the interests of her young half-brother
or nephew. While Petrie admits that it would be unlikely and perhaps
even unnatural that a capable and ambitious woman, still in the prime
of life, should immediately hand over the reins of government, placed
in her hands by her father, to a young and inexperienced boy and
justifies her retention of them, the more that it was she and not he
who had the stronger legal claim. Be this as it may, if Tahutmes III
owed gratitude to Hatshepsut for care or protection he showed her
little return. Whether from the general unpopularity of mothers-in-law,
from her treatment of his brother or uncle, from the feeling that he
was suppressed and kept in the background, or from some unknown cause,
he evidently hated her. When he came into power he endeavored to
destroy the memorials of her from off the earth and cause her memory
even to be forgotten. He injured or erased her name constantly and
whenever possible and substituted that of his brother or himself.

Tahutmes I had continued the building of Thebes and set up his two
granite obelisks. Tahutmes II and Hatshepsut continued building at
Karnak, the temple having been in existence, it is said, as far back
as the Eleventh Dynasty. So gigantic was the scale on which these
architectural works were undertaken that one life seldom saw their
completion. Like the coral reef the temples grew and were added to,
monarch after monarch of succeeding generations taking a share in the
general design.

Tahutmes I had raised at Karnak two obelisks seventy feet in height,
his daughter’s far outdid them, for hers were the loftiest then known
in Egypt, a flawless block of red granite or rose quartz, rising 108
or 109 feet into the air. This was erected in the sixteenth year of
her reign and after the death of her husband, which took place some
dozen or more years after that of his father. Probably the ceremonial
mourning was observed for him, but the heart of Hatshepsut was hard
and cold and even if we exonerate her from the implication of being
directly concerned in his decease, which stands “not proven,” there
seems little doubt that she rejoiced to be comparatively free and hold
the reins of power exclusively in her own hands. Nothing seemed missing
from her life or her pursuits, which she followed with renewed energy
and appeared more constantly than ever in male attire, the short kilt
and sandals, the war helmet and even perhaps, as in her reproduction, a
beard. Architecture was evidently of great interest to her as to many
of her predecessors and obelisks and temples still, after the lapse of
centuries, bear witness to her power and skill.

It took nineteen months from its first inception to the completion
of her great obelisk and even so, when one thinks of its magnificent
proportions, the work seems to have proceeded with wonderful celerity.
Inscriptions by Senmut record the quarrying. Her brother’s name
appears at the side. One face was covered with gold, which the queen
is believed to have weighed out with her own hand. The beautifully
carved centre was inlaid with electrum or silver gilt and related to
herself. “Amen-Khnum Hatasu, the golden Horus, Lord of the two lands
hath dedicated to her father, Amen of Thebes, two obelisks of Maket
stone (red granite) hewn from the quarries of the South. Their summits
were sheathed with pure gold, taken from the chiefs of all nations.”
“His Majesty gave these two gilded obelisks to her father, Amen, that
her name should live forever in his temple,” and adds towards the
conclusion, “when Ra arises betwixt them as he journeys upward from
the heavenly horizon they flood the two Egypts with the glory of their
brightness.” Rosellini says, speaking of the fineness of the work,
“every figure seems rather to have been impressed with a seal than
graven with a chisel.” An inscription at the bottom states that it was
erected to her father, Tahutmes I. This obelisk, with its mate, was
to occupy a place in the centre court of the palace at Karnak. Dr.
Naville, the explorer, discovered the burial chamber of Tahutmes in
1893 and a great altar erected by the queen.

In an inscription on part of the rock-cut temple of Speos Artemidos,
south Beni-hasan, reciting her re-establishment of Egyptian power and
worship after destruction by the Hyksos, Hatshepsut says: “The abode
of the mistress of Qes (Kusae on west side) was fallen in ruin, the
earth had covered her beautiful sanctuary and children played over her
temple—I cleared and rebuilt it anew—I restored that which was in ruins
and I completed that which was left unfinished. For there had been Amu
in the midst of the Delta and in Hanar and the foreign hoardes of their
number had destroyed the ancient works. They reigned ignorant of the
god Ra.”

The temple of Deir-el-Bahri or “Dayre-el-Bahari,” its present Arabic
name, was perhaps the greatest work of Hatshepsut’s life and enough of
the ruins still remained for the clever French architect, M. Brune,
to reconstruct its plan for us. The site was one that would have been
chosen by the Greeks for a theatre, but the Egyptian dedicated it to
what he deemed a higher object, the worship of the gods. Situated on
a green plain, near the tombs of the kings of the Twelfth Dynasty,
it was a magnificent natural amphitheatre on the shore of the river
and, terrace by terrace, rose from the edge of the water to its steep
background of golden brown rock, in which the inner temple, the “holy
of holies,” was excavated. Of its structure Senmut or Sen-Maut was
the presiding genius. The name “Dayre-el-Bahari” means North church,
or monastery, and was, of course, applied to it in later times from
the ruins of an old monastery which was yet young and modern beside
the original erection. An avenue of sphinxes connected the landing
for boats with the four terraces. These were supported by earth-works
and stone and guarded by hawk-headed figures, in marble, bearing the
uraeus. Columns also supported it, some of them polygonal in shape,
with the head of the goddess Hathor as a capitol, and were later
restored and kept in order till the time of the Ptolemies. “This
temple,” says one writer, “was a splendid specimen of Egyptian Art
history, whether we consider the treatment of the stone or the richness
of the colored decorations,” and it was unique in design and differed
from all others. In the inner recesses of the rock-cut chambers was
a picture of the queen, representing her as sucking the milk of the
sacred cow, the incarnation of the goddess Hathor, thereby intimating
her divine origin.

Some sixteen or seventeen years after the death of Tahutmes II the
cartouch of Tahutmes III becomes associated with that of Hatshepsut
and then her brilliant career terminates, but the end is wrapped in
mystery. Whether she voluntarily laid aside her royal power, which
seems unnatural and unlikely, whether she met with foul play or whether
she died a natural death, we know not The remains of many others of
her family, more or less illustrious, were found, but hers were not
among them. Her place of sepulture was discovered by Mr. Rhind in 1841
in a cliff side near her temple, but, strange to say, was again lost
sight of, and her successor, showing plainly his feeling towards her,
has constantly chiselled out her name. A party of modern travelers,
however, claim to have rediscovered it.

Her cartouch, which may be seen in Baedaker and other works, seems
comparatively simple, beside the more elaborate ones of other monarchs.
It is a circle with a dot in the centre, a small seated female figure,
wearing the plumes of a goddess and below two right angles joined.
The three hieroglyphic signs are explained to mean “Ma, the sitting
figure of the goddess of Truth, Law and Justice; Ka, represented by the
hieroglyphic of the uplifted arms and signifying Life, and the sun’s
disk, representing Ra, the supreme solar god of the universe.”

Many memorials of this great queen, spite of the efforts made to
destroy them, remain to us. The ruins of the temple, the great
obelisks, one of which is still standing, various statues and
statuettes, many sun-dried brick with her cartouch and that of her
father, some of which can be seen in our own Metropolitan Museum in
New York, a cabinet in wood and ivory, her standard, her signet ring
in turquoise and gold, in the possession of an English gentleman, and,
most interesting of all perhaps, the remains of her throne chair,
now in the British Museum. It is made of a dark wood, not natural to
Egypt, and probably from the land of Punt. The legs are decorated
with ucilisks in gold, and the carven hoof of some animal. The other
parts are ornamented with hieroglyphics in gold and silver and one
fragmentary royal oval in which the name of Hatasu appears and thereby
identifies the owner of the throne.

Thus ends in comparative mystery, darkness and silence this brilliant
life, of which we were long in ignorance.

Says Curtis in his charming “Nile Notes”: “The history of Eastern life
is embroidered to our youngest eyes in that airy arabesque—an Eastern
book cannot be written without a dash of the Arabian Nights—the East
throughout hath that fine flavor.”




CHAPTER TENTH.

MAUT-A-MUA.


The great Hatasu was no more and after her no woman held such extended
and absolute sway. The next queen whose name occurs at all prominently
is Maut-a-mua, or Maut-em-va, “Mother of the boat,” wife of Tahutmes IV
and mother of Amenophis III. She appears to have held the regency after
her husband’s death till her son assumed full power, or if not actually
in this official position, to have had great influence with him. The
tie between mother and son was a close one and even his marriage did
not seem to weaken it.

But before entering upon such fragmentary history of her as remains
to us it may be well to enumerate briefly the lists of sovereigns
which connects Hatasu or Hatshepsut with her great grandson’s or
great nephew’s wife. Her half-brother or step son-in-law, Tahutmes or
Thothmes III, sometimes called the Alexander of Egypt, who succeeded
or wrested the power from her hands, had a long reign of fifty-three
or fifty-four years. Hatshepsut died at fifty-nine, and Tahutmes III
ascended the throne at thirty-one years of age. The computation of his
reign probably dates from the time he was first associated with his
sister or stepmother in the regal power. He was one of the most noted
of the Egyptian kings, laid aside the peace policy of his predecessors
and entered on a series of wars and conquests, marked with many
cruelties. The records of his military expeditions are said to give
us great insight into the condition of Syria and Palestine about the
fifteenth century B. C. He, like his predecessor, was interested in
architecture, builded and added to the temples and showed individual
taste in his additions. He has left more monuments behind him than
any of the Egyptian kings but Rameses II. He built at Heliopolis,
Memphis, Thebes, Elephantine and nearly every town in Nubia. Four of
his obelisks have come down to us—one in Rome, one in Constantinople,
one in London and one in New York. These last bear the popular title
of “Cleopatra’s needle,” though erected in a much earlier time than
the era of that renowned queen. The first, “the greatest of all extant
monoliths,” is standing before the church of St. John Lateran, at
Rome. Many, many years were occupied in its preparation. Obelisks
were generally erected in pairs and occasionally several of them
in succession formed an avenue. In the temple of Deir el Bahri are
pictures of Hatshepset and Tahutmes III making offerings to the gods.
Says Baedaker: “On the upper part of the right wall is a noteworthy
scene. Makere, Hatshepsut I, Thutmosis III, and the Princess Ranofru
sacrificing to the boat of Ammon, behind which stands Thutmosis I with
his consort, Aahmes, and their little daughter, Binofru. A similar
scene was represented above the recess on the left wall; the kneeling
Thutmosis III and the Princess Binofra may still be distinguished.” The
statues of Tahutmes III are numerous, but not colossal.

He “took to wife” in the old Eastern phrase, Hatasu-Meri, daughter of
the great Hatshepsut and his own near relative, but our knowledge of
her is extremely limited. She evidently did not inherit her mother’s
characteristics and possibly did not live any great length of time.
Or if her husband transferred to her any portion of the dislike which
he so evidently bore her mother he may have purposely kept her in the
background, but in any case she cannot be looked upon as an assertive
character. Her second name is given as Meri or Merira and there is a
picture of her on a throne behind, not beside, her husband. She is,
however, attired as a goddess, with whip, ankh and tall plumes. This is
at Medinet Habu; again she is spoken of as Meryt-ra Hatshepset, mother
of Amenophis II, and a scene in a tomb represents her, accompanied
by her son. A female sphinx representing her with her husband’s name
inscribed was found in the temple of Isis and is now in the Baracco
collection at Rome and casts are at Turin and Berlin. One inscription,
and possibly more, remain, however, speaking of her as “beloved
consort,” or some other form expressing a degree of affection, but
at this late period it is impossible to determine whether it was the
usual conventional phrase or had some foundation in truth. She lived
and died, but whether her life was a long and happy one or short and
sorrowful we cannot tell.

The reign of Tahutmes III is among the longest in history. It was,
however, exceeded by some monarchs, Louis XIV, seventy-two years.
George III and Queen Victoria over sixty, Henry III occupied the throne
fifty-six years, Edward III fifty, and there was also one of the Mogul
Emperors, as well as others. A glass vase in the British Museum, said
to be the oldest in existence, bears the name of Tahutmes III. There
are various mementoes or memorials of him in different places, the most
personal perhaps, his coffin, much damaged and stripped of its gilding,
which may be seen in the Gizeh Museum.

Amenophis or Amenhotep II, son probably of Hatasu-Meri, succeeded his
father. Of him also we read as a warrior and a cruel one, bringing
back the bodies of several kings whom he had slain with his own hand.
The Egyptians were said not to be so cruel in battle as the Assyrians,
but there seems little to choose between them. There is a picture of
Amenophis II on the wall at Abd-el-Gurneh, as a child on the lap of a
nurse, the heads and backs of five Asiatics serving him as a footstool,
implying doubtless that he himself would be, or his father before him
had been, a warrior and a conqueror. There is also a kneeling statue of
him, in later life, holding a globular vase in his hand. He succeeded
to the throne when young, perhaps at eighteen, and his reign was
comparatively short as was that of his son and successor, Tahutmes IV.
His queen was named Ta-aa and is recorded on a double statue of her and
her son, Tahutmes IV. She is called “royal mother and wife,” showing
her to be his mother. We knew less of her than of almost any of the
queens, that she continued the royal line and her name seems but brief
record of her.

Of Tahutmes IV it is said that he spent much time in youth in hunting
and field sports. He married Mautamua, or Maut-em-va, or as she is
again spoken of, Moutetemarait, possibly an Ethiopian princess. Various
inter-marriages, as in modern times not unfrequently, making the
families in adjacent kingdoms near of kin.

The name of Tahutmes IV is especially associated with the great Sphinx
and we cannot doubt the whole matter was of much interest to the queen
also. The god Harmaehis appeared to the king in a dream and promised
him his special favor if he would dig out the Sphinx which bore his
image and lay half buried in the sand. The monarch obeyed, restored and
repaired the grand monument and built a temple at its base. This stands
between the two extended paws, on one of which the king’s name has been
found inscribed. It was an open temple with an altar and on the breast
of the colossus was the memorial stone with the king’s name, made of
red granite.

Dreams seem to have borne a special art in the family history. The
queen also had a noted dream. It was said that she was sleeping in the
most beautiful room in the palace and awoke and saw her husband by her
side. Then a few moments after the figure of the god Amen appeared
and, when she cried out in alarm, he predicted the birth of her son
and vanished in clouds of sweet perfume. Hence the young king was
considered in a sense the son of the god. Mautamua is elsewhere called
a princess of Mitanni and seems to have been won with difficulty by the
young Egyptian prince or kin. One of the tablets found says: “When the
father of Nimmuriya (Tahutmes IV) sent to Artotama my grandfather and
asked for his daughter to wife, my grandfather refused his request,
and though he sent the fifth time and the sixth time he would not give
her to him. It was only after he had sent the seventh time that he
gave her to him, being compelled for many reasons.” This was among the
noted collection of the Tel-el-Amarna tablets and is believed by late
authorities to refer to Queen Maut-amua, who is also spoken of as the
divine wife and mother.

The queen’s home was in Thebes, which had succeeded Memphis as the
great city of the Empire, standing, it is said, to Ethiopia and Egypt
“in the relation occupied by Rome to Mediæval Christianity, the
capital sacerdotal city of all who worshipped the god Amen.” On the
wall of what is called the “Birth Room” at the temple of Luxor are
various reliefs relating to the birth of Amenophis III, showing Queen
Maut-a-mua, the nurses, the goddess Isis and others. In one the Queen,
after the birth of her son (Ra-ma-neb), is seen kneeling on a kind of
dais. The goddess Hathor kneels facing her with the babe in her arms.
The Ka of both are repeated, making double figures, and the sacred
cow suckles the child. For some reason, not given, Amenophis III was
particularly rich in Ka names, for he had seven. Another relief shows
Hathor presenting the child to the goddess Safekh, and to Amen-Ra,
the god of Thebes. Behind Amen-Ra stands the god Nilus and behind him
another carrying three ankhs or life signs for the family, throne and
Ka name. Safekh dips her pen in ink to record his birth; the royal and
Ka ovals are inscribed above. Says Miss Edwards: “Each sovereign on
succeeding to the throne not only assumed a throne name, but took also
a name for his Ka. The throne name was enclosed in a royal oval, or
cartouch, like the family name, but the Ka name was represented as if
inscribed above the false doorway, just where the name of a deceased
person would be inscribed above the actual door of his sepulchre.”

As the goddess Safekh was the patron deity of libraries we may judge
that the king had intellectual tastes, though we know him to have been
something of an athlete and a great sportsman. Indeed, it was to this
last that he owed his wife, for it was on a hunting expedition that
he encountered and fell in love with her. Queen Maut-amua and her
daughter-in-law, Ti or Thi, were associated much together, as were
Queen Aahotep and her daughter-in-law, Nefertari-Aahmes, though not so
generally considered divinities as were the founders of the race.

Maut-a-mua must have been a woman of intellect, capacity and attraction
since she was her son’s guardian, and probably regent, and his
attachment to her seems to have been strong and enduring. She lived
many years after her husband, whose reign was brief, lasting not more
than eight or nine years.

The likenesses of these various kings and queens are often found among
the wall pictures in the tombs and are reproduced in many of the books
on Egypt. The bas-reliefs and statues which decorated temples and tombs
were mostly painted. Says Maspero: “That the Egyptians studied from
Nature is proved by the facility with which they seized likenesses and
drew the appropriate movements of animals. These figures are strange,
but they live and have a certain charm.” To paint men brown and women
yellow was the rule, but to this there were occasional exceptions. At
Sackuarah, in the time of the Fifth Dynasty, the flesh tint of the men
is yellow, while at Istamboul, or Abu Simbel, it is red, as also in the
tombs of the epoch of Thotmosis IV.

The early Egyptian is said to have had a fine forehead, small, aquiline
nose and a well-formed chin. The picture preserved of Queen Maut-a-mua,
with the royal asp above her forehead, gives a long, slightly aquiline
nose and a small, well-shaped chin. It is rather startling, in turning
to her daughter-in-law, Ti, to find this face repeated in a sort of
caricature, devoid of beauty. As in most cases, doctors differ as to
the amount of reliance that can be placed upon the verisimilitude of
the portraits and statues of these various kings and queens that have
come down to us. Some authorities maintain that there existed an ideal
conventional type, to which the actual bore little or no resemblance,
and point out how each is but the modification of the other. Some again
claim for them considerable authenticity. Perhaps a middle ground may
come nearest to the truth. The conventional type no doubt dominated
the painter’s or sculptor’s mind. But when the statues are proved to
have been executed in the lifetime of the original it seems likely that
some resemblance was aimed at, and the differences that exist go to
show this. Also in many cases they belonged to the same family, and may
well have had features common to all; as in later times the Hapsburgh
jaw was handed down from generation to generation. How hard we have
found it to reconcile the picture in the various galleries with the
reputation of the charming, beautiful and unhappy Mary Stuart, Queen of
Scots, and yet doubtless there was a resemblance. How often, too, the
photograph of a near and dear friend has an utterly unfamiliar aspect.
So that we may fairly admit that even in these ancient times statues
and pictures (at least in some cases) a suggestion of the original may
remain to us.

The head of Tahutmes IV, which is preserved in a statue or statuette,
gives a pleasing face, with an amiable expression. At Luxor, Queen
Maut-a-mua appears without the king, but with her son, whose paternity
is ascribed to Amen. There is also a picture of the king, smiting some
negroes, and behind is a queen called Ai’at who is spoken of as royal
daughter, sister and wife, but it is thought this may be intended for
an ideograph of the “goddess queen,” Maut-a-mua, as there is no other
trace of her. On one private tomb is a picture of Amenophis III and his
mother, and there are also various small remains in the way of scarabs,
rings, etc. In one of the reliefs in the “Birth Room,” before referred
to, the god Amen and the queen are seated upon the hieroglyphic symbol
for heaven and supported by the goddesses Selqet and Neith.

King Amenophis III did not resemble his mother. It is quite a different
face, with good features and a resolute, though pensive expression.
The forehead is high, the eyes full, the nose long but rounded at the
end, the upper lip short, and the chin prognathous. He is described as
amiable and generous, and showed deference and strong affection both
for mother and wife. He seems among the most pleasing of the Egyptian
kings. Engaged in wars, devoted to hunting, especially the chase of
the lion, which led him far afield, he was yet, as were many of his
predecessors, deeply interested in architectural enterprises and the
era is noted for the spirit and beauty of its sculpture. Court and
colonnade at Karnak were of his building, and on the walls of various
apartments are pictures of the coronation of the king and other details
of his life.

He is best known to us, and his fame rests chiefly on the marvellous
colossi which he erected, “the grandest the world has ever seen.” They
are sixty feet high, and when they wore the crown of an Egyptian king,
which has since been destroyed, towered seventy feet into the air, a
solid block of sandstone. Miss Martineau, a traveller of comparatively
modern times, thus describes the impression they made upon her. “There
they sit, together yet apart, in the midst of the plain, serene and
vigilant, still keeping their untired watch over the lapse of ages
and the eclipse of Europe. I can never believe that anything else so
majestic as this pair has been conceived of by the imagination of Art,
nothing certainly, even in Nature, ever affected me so unspeakably. The
pair, sitting alone amid the expanse of verdure, with islands of ruins
behind them, grow more striking to us every day. The impression of
sublime tranquility which they convey, when seen from distant points,
is confirmed by a nearer approach. There they sit, keeping watch, hands
on knees, gazing straight forward, seeming, though so much of the
face is gone, to be looking over to the monumental piles on the other
side of the river, which became gorgeous temples after these throne
seats were placed here—the most immovable thrones that have ever been
established on the earth.”

It is rarely that the name of an Egyptian sculptor is preserved, but
this case is an exception. An inscription records his name and his
naturally proud and exultant feelings at the completion of his work. He
was called Amen-hotep or Amen-hept, and thus speaks: “I immortalized
the name of the king and no one has done the like of me in my works.
I executed two portrait statues of the king, astonishing for their
breadth and height, their completed form dwarfed the temple tower;
forty cubits was their measure: they were cut in the splendid sandstone
mountain, on either side the eastern and the western, I caused to
be built lightships whereon the statues were carried up the river;
they were emplaced in their sublime temple; they will last as long
as heaven. A joyful event was it when they were landed at Thebes and
raised up in their place.”

The stone is of a yellowish brown color and very difficult to work.
Both statues represent the king and stood before a temple which he
built, but of which the veriest fragments remain. We are reminded
somewhat by the sculptor’s triumphant pæan of the good Un’e, who was
minister to Pepi VI and so exulted in his work and position. Fond
as Amenophis was of both his mother and his foreign wife, for whose
pleasure and diversion he constructed a great lake, neither of them
sit beside him or share the honor of so majestic a statue, as we might
suppose, especially as regards his wife, would have been the case;
he immortalizes himself alone. Two figures of queens, Maut-a-mua and
Ti, are, however sculptured at the base of the statues; they measure
eighteen feet in height, but appear small beside the colossi. Says
one visitor, the surface of the statues was originally beautifully
polished. The thrones on which they are seated are covered with
sculptures; the god Hapi (the Nile) is weaving together the lotus lily
and papyrus plant, implying the rule of the monarch over Upper and
Lower Egypt.

Homer calls Amenophis III, the Memnon of the Greeks, “the most stately
of living men,” and according to a later legend he was the son of
Aurora. It was during the Roman imperial epoch that they were taken for
the statues of Memnon, who slew Nestor’s son, Antiochus, in the Trojan
war, and was himself slain by Achilles, and to explain the fact that
the Trojan hero should thus appear in Egypt a legend was invented. The
so-called “vocal Memnon,” the more Eastern of the statues, greeted his
mother, Eos, with musical sounds and the morning dews were supposed to
be the tears which the goddess shed upon her beloved child. The two
statues stood at the end of an avenue of gigantic figures, leading to
the temple of Amen, and from the river to the temple, a mile in length,
went the Strada Regia, the royal street of Thebes.

Says our own Curtis, who has written so charmingly of his Egyptian
experiences: “Yearly comes the Nile humbly to his feet, and leaving
them pays homage. Then receding slowly leaves water plants wreathed
around the throne, on which he is sculptured as a good genius
harvesting the lotus, and brings a hundred travellers to perpetuate the
homage. These sublime sketches in stone are an artist’s work. In those
earlier days Art was not content with the grace of Nature, but coped
with its proportions. Vain attempts, but glorious!” The fact of this
musical note being heard from “the darling of the dawn” is recorded on
the base of the statue, and is mentioned by Strabo, the elder Pliny and
many others. Sandy beaches sometimes emit musical sounds and something
in the structure of the rock, warmed by the rays of the rising sun, may
have caused the sounds to be heard, or they may have been produced by
artificial means, at the instance of the priests, striving to impress
the people. The true origin of the mystery was never discovered,
though its existence seems well attested, and eventually the sounds
ceased, probably as the result of an earthquake or the restoration of
the figures which was undertaken by a later king. Another theory lays
the injury of the statues at the door of Cambyses, who was credited
with all possible crimes, and a sculptured inscription reads: “I wrote
after having heard Memnon. Cambyses has wounded me. A stone cut into
the image of the sun-king. I had once the sweet voice of Memnon, but
Cambyses has deprived me of the accents which express joy and grief.”

The sounds are said by some authorities to have been heard during a
period of two hundred and twenty years. Travellers in ancient times
(like the modern vandal) were very fond of scribbling their names on
monuments, which should be held in more respect, and a number of these,
including some of their remarks and silly verses, have been found on
the base of the statue and refer to the sounds. At the time of their
erection the level of the Nile was evidently different from that of the
present day for its waters, as Curtis has said, now occasionally leave
the feet of the giant pair.

Amenophis III began quarrying stone for his numerous architectural
works in the first and second years of his reign from quarries near
Silseleh, and his palace was said to resemble that subsequently built
by his son at Tel-el-Amarna in some respects. Scarabs bearing the name
of this king are to be seen in our own New York Museum, as also in
various other places, but those of Tahutmes III are still more frequent
here. The tomb of Amenophis III was found in the west valley of the
Tombs of the Kings by a French expedition.

Queen Maut-a-mua had the pleasure, we may believe, of seeing a number
of grandchildren, as Amenophis III had four sons and three daughters,
if not others unmentioned, and so kindly seem to have been the family
relations that we may perhaps picture her with her son’s wife in the
midst of the home circle spoiling them quite like a modern grandmother.
Up to this period the men of the family appear to have been a stalwart,
good-looking race, while the women probably possessed more beauty
than their pictures would lead us to infer. Of the general outline
of their history we have some knowledge, but seldom or never can we
definitely place the day of their birth or that of their death. So at
what exact period Queen Maut-a-mua passed away we cannot state, only
we may believe she was watched over by filial affection to the last,
was buried amid tears and lamentations, and had all due funeral rites
observed, even if she was not numbered among those royalties who were
specially regarded as divinities, the founders of the race, and to whom
divine honors were subsequently paid, yet is she occasionally spoken of
as “the goddess queen.”




CHAPTER ELEVENTH.

TYI.


With Queen Tyi (or as her name is variously spelled, Ti, Tai, Tity,
Tii, Teye, Tuaa, Thua) we again consider the story of a woman of
unusual power, and though not leaving such indelible impression upon
the page of history as did Queen Hatasu, her influence was strongly
felt. Both as wife and mother we see the traces of her ideas and wishes
on the actions of husband and son; both, evidently, turned to her
for counsel and each in his own way showed her devoted affection. So
potent was her sway over the latter that to it is largely attributed
the religious and political revolution which occurred in the lifetime
of Amenophis IV. Though its effects were comparatively temporary and
passed away during the reign of his successors for the time being it
convulsed Egypt to its centre and the records of it have not been
obliterated by the lapse of centuries.

Amenophis III, son of Tahutmes IV and Maut-a-mua, was, we judge, an
attractive youth. He had a fine presence, an agreeable expression and
an amiable and generous disposition, while his love story holds more
of romance than usually falls to the lot of kings or queens. He is
credited with a number of wives or less reputable connections. Perhaps
they included the errors of the “sowing of wild oats,” and at any rate
seem to have been relegated to or kept in the background by a devoted
affection for the lady who became pre-eminently his legal wife. These
various wives are given as a sister and two daughters of Kalima-Sin,
King of Karaduniyash, and a sister and daughter of Tushratta, King of
Mittani, none of whom, it is said, were acknowledged queen of Egypt,
while other records seem to imply that Queen Tyi was the daughter of
Tushratta of Dushratta, King of Mittanni. A letter to Babylon seems
to show that Amenophis III had married a Babylonish princess, and
that her brother, Kali-masin, was not satisfied about her safety, but
was reassured by Amenophis. A match between another princess of that
country and the Egyptian sovereign seems to have failed for lack of
sufficient gold on the lady’s part. Wars also interfered with connubial
arrangements.

Another account says that Amenophis III haughtily refused when the
King of Mesopotamia, Kalima-Sin, wished to marry one of the Egyptian
princesses, saying that the daughter of the king of the Land of Egypt
had never been given to a “nobody.” This, of course, occurred later,
if at all, and it seems not quite reasonable that the king himself
should take a princess as his wife from the same family to which he
refused his daughter. The sovereign of great Egypt evidently viewed
with contempt the claims of these petty princes to be considered in any
way his equal. Yet one letter in the collection found at Tel-el-Amarna
shows that Tahutmes III, Tahutmes IV and Amenophis IV all married
Mitannian princesses. After such a lapse of time and among conflicting
statements it is hard to arrive at the absolute facts, but as our
present concern is chiefly with Queen Tyi it matters the less. She
alone of these various ladies has a distinct personality and takes a
prominent place.

Hunting was, with Amenophis III, a passion, the hunting of the lion
a royal sport, for the sake of which he journeyed far and no doubt
underwent many enforced privations. It must have been in the heyday
of youth and manly vigor that, on one of his long expeditions, he
encountered the foreign princess who at once won his heart and probably
reciprocated to a more than ordinary degree the affection she inspired.
Spite of the rather unattractive effigies which bear her name, we must
believe that she was beautiful and winning, since for her sake he cast
aside the so frequent custom of marriage with a sister or some home
dignitary and invited her to share his throne.

Probably then, or later, the queen participated in the favorite
amusement of her husband, not wanting in courage for the perils or
hardships involved, nor did she shrink as a more sensitive female of
later times might have done from what was painful, cruel or revolting
in the death throes of the mighty beast.

Scarabs, so often used by the Egyptians to record events which they
considered of importance, have been found, bearing such inscriptions
as this: “Amenhotep, prince of Thebes, giver of life, and royal spouse
Thi. In respect of lions, brought Majesty his from shooting his own,
beginning from year first to year tenth, lions fierce 102.”

These scarabs, giving the names of gods, kings and singers are often
most valuable in filling gaps in other records. The most frequently
found are those of Tahutmes III, of which there are a number in the
Metropolitan Museum in New York; Amenophis III, Seti I and Rameses
II, and they are inscribed with the names of kings from Mena to the
Roman Emperor Antoninus. Hence on those known to be of a particular
period and found with the royal mummies, the name of much earlier kings
are frequently traced. Scarabs were copied by the Phoenicians and
are imitated in these modern times in Egypt. The work, at first very
clumsy, has gradually become better executed, while the real ones have,
of course, grown dearer as well as rarer.

A brief enumeration of some of the scarabs relating to these periods
to be seen in the New York Museum may not be without interest. One of
Tahutmes or Thothmes III has the figure of the god Bes in the centre,
flanked by cartouches of the king a winged scarab below and obscure
ornamentation above. The color of the composition of which it is made
a faded reddish brown. Another of soft blue stone or paste has the
pre-nomen of the same king called “subduer of foreigners in all lands.”
One of green porcelain, beautifully executed, shows a squatting figure
with extended arms, upholding the divine boat, and above, the pre-nomen
of King Thothmes. Inscriptions are “the good god” and “lord of both
lands,” while the ankh, or life sign, is both behind the body and
attached to the knees. On another of grey composition, above a horse,
chariot and charioteer, is the pre-nomen of the king, in a cartouch,
with the ends reversed. A bead or seal of hard, green stone has on
the one side the pre-nomen of Thothmes III, with the Tet sign below,
each flanked by uraei, and on the reverse a Hathor-headed sistrum
also flanked by uraei. A cartouch of Amenophis III and the symbol of
“truth” is on a scarab of green and brown pottery. Another has “Praise
of Amenophis III.” His cartouch and “lord of might” is on one of green
pottery, while a scarab in grey composition, beautifully executed bears
the pre-nomen of the king on both sides, with a winged beetle and disk
flanked by uraei and a human headed sphinx with the words, “Living god
Tum.” Most interesting of all, however, in connection with the present
chapter, is a green pottery scaraboid, symbolic eye, bearing the words
“The royal wife Tii,” wife of Amenohotep III.

Melville has graphically described the setting forth of a royal hunt,
in another ancient kingdom, which, in some particulars at least,
may reproduce the Egyptian pageant. “A queen and all her glittering
train defiled from the lofty porches of Babylon the Great, with tramp
of horses and ring of bridle, with steady footfalls of warriors,
curled, bearded, erect and formidable, with ponderous tread of stately
elephants, gorgeous in trappings of scarlet, pearl and gold, with
stealthy gait of meek-eyed camels, plodding patient with their burdens
in the rear. Scouring into the waste before that jewelled troop of wild
asses bruised and broke the shoots of wormwood beneath their flying
hoofs, till the hot air was laden with an aromatic smell, the ostrich
spread her scant and tufted wings to scud before the wind, tall, swift,
ungainly, in a cloud of yellow dust; the fleet gazelle, with beating
heart and head, tucked back, sprang forward like an arrow from the bow,
never to pause nor stint in her terror-stricken flight, till man and
horse, game and hunter were left hopelessly behind—far down beyond the
unbroken level of the horizon. But the monarch of the desert, the grim
and lordly lion, sought no refuge in flight, accepted no compromise of
retreat. Driven from his covert he might move slowly and sullenly away,
but it was to turn in savage wrath on the eager horseman who approached
too near, or the daring archer who ventured to bend his bow within
point-blank distance of such an enemy. Nevertheless, even the fiercest
of their kind must yield before man, the conqueror of beasts, before
woman, the conqueror of man, and on the shaft which drank his life
blood and transfixed the lion from side to side was graven the royal
tiara of a monarch’s mate.”

Amid such scenes sped the wooing, and no doubt in later years passed
many exciting hours. Amenophis or Amenhotep III reared young lions as
pets, and also presented live ones as gifts to the temples, estimating
them as of great value, though we may wonder in what special manner
they could be of profit, service or pleasure there.

The pictures of Queen Tyi, or Tai, in the tombs of the Queens, near
Thebes, and in other places, copied by Champollion and Rosellini show
her with blue eyes, a skin of pinkish hue, like a Northern maiden,
and a pleasing expression. Many of the queens were buried in a valley
behind the temple of Medinet Haboo at Thebes others were laid beside
their lords. Tyi, as has been said, was considered by some to be the
daughter of a Mesopotamian, Asiatic, Dashratta or Tushratta, king of
Mitanni, Maten of the hieroglyphics. Other authorities, from cuneiform
tablets found at Tel-el-amarna, give her paternity as that of a sister
of or daughter of Kalimma Sin, king of Koraduniyash, probably a county
northeast of Syria. Kings and queens of Babylon claimed Amenophis III
as a new kinsman, perhaps as the result of this marriage.

Scarabs were engraved in honor of the union and part of a scarab gives
the record “Amenhetep, prince of Thebes, giver of life and royal
spouse mighty lady Thi, living one—the name of father her (was) Tuaa
or Juaa, the name of mother her (was) Thuau, the wife to wit of the
king powerful. Frontier his South is as far as Kerei, land of Nubia,
frontier North is as far as Netharina (Mesopotamia).” Part of another
reads, “A wonderful thing they brought to Majesty his, life, strength,
health, the daughter of the prince of Mesopotamia, Sotharna. Kirkipa
and the chiefs of women her 300 + 10 + 7.” The mummies of her parents
have been recently found.

Many of these scarabs are preserved in the Museums of Gizeh, Berlin and
other places. An enamelled vase in different colors in the Gizeh Museum
also bears the name of Amenophis III and Tyi, a potsherd, in one of the
older museums gives the coronation date of Amenophis III as “the 13th
day of the month Epiphi,” said to correspond in part to our April and
May, which, without this otherwise valueless fragment we might perhaps
never have known.

Queen Tyi was attended as the scarab notes, by three hundred and
seventeen women, which would of course imply a force of male protectors
as well. A very precious bride. This may recall the story in the Talmud
about Abraham, who on approaching Egypt locked Sarah in a chest to
hide her dangerous beauty. The custom officers asked if he carried
clothes. He answered, “I will pay for clothes.” Then they raised their
demand, “Thou carriest gold?” To this he also agreed and further to
the price of the finest silks and precious stones. Finding they could
name nothing of greater value than he held his treasure they at last
insisted that he should open the box and the tale ends “the whole of
Egypt was illuminated with the lustre of Sarah’s beauty.” Whether Queen
Tyi’s beauty thus surprised and delighted the people of her new home
we can only surmise, but at least she was deemed precious enough to be
well served and guarded.

So the bond was sealed between the royal lovers and away from her
own land journeyed the newly elected queen. A woman with a fair face
and figure, a heart keenly responsive to human affections, with a
deep-seated faith in the religion of her fore-fathers, worshippers of
the sun, and, perhaps even at that early period, a quiet determination
that she would win her husband and his people from what she must have
deemed the error of their ways, their worship of so many gods under the
form of beasts and birds, introduce a purer, simpler religion among
them. Something of the spirit of Joan of Arc may have animated her;
something of the religious fervor of an Ursula and her eleven thousand
virgins (or was it only eleven martyrs, the M being mistaken for a
thousand?) as the one girded herself for battle and the other took up
her pious pilgrimage.

We know less of the formalities necessary for the conclusion of a royal
marriage among the Egyptians than we do of their funeral rites and
ceremonies. The latter as ushering them into a new and higher existence
were deemed the more important and of greater concern to both the
present generation and to posterity, especially the latter, and its
records and momentoes tell the story a thousand times, but we may take
for granted that many observances, both civil and religious, marked the
union of man and woman, in particular those of nobles and kings. Some
authorities have questioned Queen Tyi’s claim to royal birth, but the
retinue of attendants and servants that accompanied her leave little
doubt that she was a princess of note.

This bridal train may recall another of later times, that of Henrietta
Maria of France, as she journeyed to meet her future husband, Charles I
of England. She, too, was attended by a large retinue: she, too, held
strongly a different faith and more or less, on that account, awakened
the prejudices of her new subjects, and she, too, was involved in a
revolution, partly religious in character. But here the parallel ends,
for the one remained in possession of her power, while the other was
driven from her throne and became an exile.

Perhaps the new queen was taken at once to her palace, the remains of
which were discovered by Greaut at Malgata, and which, after being
pillaged, were subsequently excavated by Newberry and Titus. Or she
may have watched its erection with interest, after her arrival. The
original edifice is thus described by those who have made a careful
study of the fragmentary remains. “The plan of the palace seems to have
been quite similar to that of the palace which Amenophis IV erected
for himself in Tel-el-Amarna, and which was several years ago explored
by Petrie. In the palace of Amenophis III the rooms were likewise
adorned by beautifully decorated stucco floors, and the roof were
supported by columns. The walls were embellished with stucco work, the
representations, in part, setting forth every-day life. In addition
to staterooms, working rooms, the kitchen with its storage closets,
a faience factory, in which the different amulets and ornaments were
made, can be distinguished. Not far from the palace was found an altar,
built of tile, and at one time probably wainscotted with slabs of
stone. It was quite similar to the one in the temple of Deir-el-Bahri,
and this one was certainly dedicated to the sun-god. As the altars
of ancient Israel most likely also had a similar form, these remains
of the old Egyptian cultus have an especial Biblical interest.” The
columns of the great temple and likely of the palace also, were
sculptured to resemble the buds of the lotus, sometimes called the
Egyptian immortelle, which might also be called the national flower,
so highly was it regarded and so constantly was it used as a model for
architectural designs.

That the foreign daughter-in-law was kindly received by Queen
Maut-a-mua we may well believe from the harmony which seemed to exist
between them later and the union of their two statues with that of
Amenophis III; while in her turn Queen Tyi, when she occupied the same
position, extended a like friendly affection to her son’s wife.

The influence of the new queen was soon perceived in the institution,
by the king, of a religious festival in honor of the sun’s disk. Many
of the people may have been charmed to have anything like another
holiday, with its attendant pageants and observances, added to their
list, but there can be little doubt that it awakened the suspicion of
the priests, who jealously guarded the ancient faith and beheld with
disfavor anything that might involve less devotion to the numerous gods
which they worshipped and of whose interests they were the guardians,
and any change that might minimize their influence or deplete the
resources in the treasuries of the temples.

Queen Tyi seems not to have been popular. She was a foreigner, which
in itself often awakens an antagonistic feeling, amusingly illustrated
in the story of the English laborer who when told that a passer by was
a stranger exclaimed, “Eave alf a brick at im’.” She held a different
faith and in all probability the priests with a consciousness of her
latent or expressed views and principles used their great influence
quietly to set the people against her and this dislike was transferred
to her son.

But to her husband she was ever a first consideration. The records give
an account of an enterprise which he early undertook for her pleasure.
This was the construction of a large artificial lake on which she
might sail or row at will. Again the scarabs chronicle this tribute
of connubial tenderness, and again we see the queen’s religious views
considered. It begins as usual with an ascription to the gods. “Under
the majesty of Horus the golden, mighty of valor, full power, diademed
with law (lord of the North and South) establisher of laws, pacifier of
the two lands. Horus, the golden, mighty of valor, smiter of foreign
lands. Ordered majesty his the oaking of a lake for the royal spouse,
mighty lady Thi. Length its (was) cubits 3000-6000, breadth its cubits
600. Made majesty his festival of the entrance of the waters on month
third of sowing day sixteenth. Sailed majesty in his boat ‘Atenneferu’
‘Disk of beauties’ or ‘the most beautiful disk.’” He sailed across to
inaugurate the opening and perhaps to show her that all was safe and
well and then doubtless the queen held sway over it, permitting only
such as she chose to share the pleasure with her and perhaps making
it a mark of special favor when she did so. The Egyptians held many
of their religious festivals on the Nile and this lake may have been
specially devoted to such religious observances as the queen wished
to hold in honor of the celestial god whom she worshipped. The place
selected for this feat of engineering skill was near the town of
Tarucha.

The remains of a beautiful temple at Sideruga, built by Amenophis III
to or for Queen Tyi, have also been found and an inscription says
Amenhotep “made his monuments for the great and mighty heiress, the
mistress of all lands, Tyi.” A group of the king and Tyi is in the
Summa collection and an inscription reads: “Amen’nekht, princess, prays
with her mother before Amenhotep III, because he praises her beautiful
face and honors her beauty.” A Usheti box in the Berlin Museum bears
the name of Tyi and the monuments of her are numerous. She is by the
colossi of her husband and appears with him in official scenes at
Saleb. The figure sculptured in the tomb of Huy at Tel-el-Amarna, on a
scarab, etc., is shown seated; her name alone appears in a quarry at
the same place, after her husband’s death. And her parents are named as
Yoman and Thuaa.

The additions made by Amenophis III to the long list of Egyptian
temples are among the most noted. He built the oldest part of the
Serapeum at Sakkarah, the temple of Amen-Ra at Karnak and also at Luxor
a sanctuary with surrounding chambers, a pro-naos or hall with four
columns, and another large court (which was evidently used afterwards
as a place of worship by the early Christians), and a noble hypostycle
court with four rows of lofty columns bearing the lotus capital. At
the end nearest the sanctuary on either side are double rows of the
same columns, then a huge pilon, and in front of all, a noble avenue of
fourteen still more massive and lofty columns bearing the lotus-flower
capital. This avenue with the usual pylon appears to have completed the
Temple of Amenophis III. About 1600 B. C. is the date sometimes set for
this work. An avenue of Sphinxes connected the two temples. The temple
of Mut at Karnak was Amenophis’ special work. At el Kab there is also
a beautiful little temple or chapel built by him containing various
pictures of the king making offerings to the gods, etc. Other works
might be named as well as the grand statues already referred to.

As devoted as was Amenophis III to the god Amen, on whose temples he
lavished gifts and to whom he paid special honors, so antagonistic was
his son and successor to the same deity. May it chance that as the
mother taught and impressed upon the youthful minds of her children her
own religious ideas, so the father especially in the case of this son,
forced them to acts of worship to the many gods of Egypt which revolted
them and in the end served only to drive them the further from the old
faith. Such is the perversity of human nature that the very means taken
to win assent to any proposition or principle are often those which
have most influence in causing the pendulum of thought and opinion to
swing to the opposite extreme.

It is said that the striking change in the physiognomy and ideal type
of the upper classes in the latter part of the Eighteenth Dynasty
points to strong foreign infusion. The bold, active faces of earlier
times are replaced by sweetness and delicacy, a gentle smile and small,
gracefully curved nose, this is characteristic of the time of Amenophis
III.

The life of King Amenophis was an active one, less warlike than most
of his predecessors, but leaving behind many memorials. It is possible
that his long and doubtless exposing hunting expeditions may have had
a bad effect upon him, for it was still in his prime probably that his
life ended and his wife seems long to have survived him. His reign,
however, covers a lengthy period, thirty-six years, but he, owing to
his father’s early death, ascended the throne in youth. So, in the
quaint and beautiful language of Scripture, Amenophis III “slept with
his fathers,” and Amenophis IV reigned in his stead.

The tomb of Amenophis III, discovered by the French Expedition, is
in the West Valley of the Tombs of the Kings. Here also his father
and many other Egyptian sovereigns were buried. On the rocky walls
are representations of the king and the gods, some of which were
only partially completed. Amenophis III stands out an attractive
personality among the long list of Egyptian kings. We cannot doubt
that he was mourned by many, especially by the love of his youth and
later years, Queen Tyi. Henceforth her life was bound up with that
of her eldest son. She and Amenophis III had, some say two, some say
four sons, and four or five daughters. The eldest son, who changed his
name, was first called Amenophis IV and his next brother, Tahutmes,
after the grandfather or other ancestor of that name. The daughters
were Isis, Heot-mi-hib Satamon, of whom some memorials remain, and
some say Beckaten, youngest and favorite, but who is elsewhere termed
grand-daughter, rather than daughter, of Tyi.

That Queen Tyi was a faithful mother whose affectionate heart clung to
her children as she had been a loving and devoted wife we cannot doubt.
But her eldest son, the champion of her faith, the earnest disciple
of her teachings, which had sunk into his heart and borne abundant
fruit, must have been especially beloved. With him her after history
is closely associated, and her influence is shown even more strongly
than during the life of her husband and there is little question that
to it is largely due the subsequent course of events. Amenophis III
had deferred to her wishes and shown special marks of favor to her
religious views, but her son accepted them with his whole heart and
spent his life in trying to make them the religion of his native land.




CHAPTER TWELFTH.

TYI (CONTINUED).


As the reign and influence of Queen Hatasu or Hatshepsut included, in
part as those of her father and two brothers, so did that of Queen
Tyi those of husband and son. The fair young girl who had left her
own country with high hopes and aspirations had crystallized into the
determined woman, who bent all the energies of a strong nature to
the accomplishment of her wishes and purposes. The religion of her
fore-fathers was no longer kept in the background. She inspired her
son with the zeal of an apostle or a fanatic, as we may choose to
consider it, and the king devoted his life to upturning the old order
of things and an endeavor to establish the new. His father had shown
much deference to his wife’s religious faith. In the new festival,
instituted in his honor, that of the Solar Disk, on the 16th of Athyr
(October 4th), a prominent place had been assigned in the procession to
the boat of the sun “Aten-ne-fru.” He also put the disk on the head of
his crlo-sphinxes and on the statues of the goddesses Pasht and Sekhet;
but all this was, in a measure, tentative.

It remained for Amenophis IV, who was by early writers numbered among
the Stranger kings, till his true paternity was discovered and now
styled himself “Akhenaten” of “Khu-n-aten,” Worshipper of the (Sun’s
Disk) to proclaim openly his mother’s faith. It has been suggested that
his aim was to provide a god visible to all the people of his extensive
empire, and who could be worshipped in common by all, or jealousy
between the priests of Heliopolis and those of Thebes may have been
another ingredient in the mixed and vexed problem. Beside his father’s
great temple at Luxor he erected a sanctuary of the sun, and in various
places the name of Amon was obliterated.

Whatever the subsequent history of Queen Tyi’s other children, it was
to the eldest son that the mother evidently clung, and we may perhaps
believe that he, chiefly of them all, shared her views and opinions. On
slips from toilette boxes, etc., are found the names of the princesses
Sat-amen, Hent-mer-hab and Ast; there was also a son, with the family
name of Tahutmes. Bekaten is by some believed to be the youngest and
favorite daughter of Tyi, by others to be her grand-daughter, the child
of Amenophis IV, who is thought to have married before his father’s
death. At Somma is a group of the king and Tyi. At Qurneh a funeral
temple north of Ramesseum, rearranged by Amenhotep III for his daughter
Sit-amen, which proves that this child, at least, died before the
father. Another inscription read, “Amen’nekht, princess, prays with
her mother, before Amenhotep III, because he praises her beautiful
face and honors her beauty.” Some of the children probably died young,
some may have married and gone elsewhere, but the eldest, the father’s
successor, had both the will and the power to plant the new faith, and
with him Queen Tyi’s later life seems closely associated.

As the character of this prince has afforded historians much ground
for speculation, so do the presentments that remain of him. No cartoon
in Punch could more ludicrously caricature the human face than do the
pictures that are preserved of King Khu-n-aten. Yet in their ghastly
ugliness they still retain the conventional type. Many writers seem
to consider them as reliable as other likenesses, and attribute the
protruding lips and attenuated mis-shapen proportions to heredity,
some ancestor of negro blood, or the results of ill health. Others
offer no explanation. It seems impossible that any reigning king (and
in no period of Egyptian history does the monarch appear to be more
autocratic than at this time) should have permitted such portraits of
himself to remain to posterity. He was the son of handsome parents. It
is possible that the conventional type was considered so beautiful that
no deviation which yet preserved the general outline could mar it? Or
perchance is there another solution. The king forced upon the country
a religion abhorrent to the priests, to the majority of the people,
and to his successors, who soon returned to the polytheistic faith and
worship of earlier centuries, and who might well have taken pleasure in
caricaturing and handing down to their descendants a garbled picture
of the hated monarch, iconoclast as he seemed to them, reformer as he
doubtless appeared in the eyes of his mother and all the converts to
the worship of the sun. The slanting forehead, the long thin nose, the
protruding, flexible mouth, the serpent-like neck and the ungainly
proportions of the figure are little calculated to attract admiration.

A parallel to this might perhaps be found in the case of Richard III
of England, who, as he was a monster of wickedness, must needs be a
monster of ugliness as well, and whose personal defects have been
exaggerated by limner and scribe until his traditional semblance is
that of a dwarfish fiend.

Says Curtis, “the old Egyptian artist was as sure of his hand and eye
as the French artist who cut his pupil’s paper with his thumb nail to
indicate that the line should run so and not otherwise. The coloring is
rude and inexpressive, the drawing of the human figure conventional,
for the church or the priests ordained how the human form should be
drawn. Later the church and priests ordained how the human form should
be governed. Yet, O sumptuous scarlet queen sitting on seven hills, you
were generous to art, while you were wronging nature.”

Khu-n-aten or Akhenaten married, however, and probably in youth, as
he was the father of quite a large family. His wife is spoken of as
the daughter of Dushratta and may have been the grand-daughter of an
Egyptian king, her mother having married a Syrian prince. Dushratta,
writing to Queen Tyi, before Amenophis IV took up affairs, greets
Tadekhipa, his daughter, Tyi’s daughter-in-law. As seems to have been
the custom, she changed her name on coming to Egypt and is known
as Aten’neferu,’ Nefertiti, or Nefertity. She was always closely
associated with the king and there seems no mention of other wives or
connections of any kind. She doubtless shared or was a convert to his
faith and we may judge its enthusiastic supporter.

Queen Tyi appears to have remained in Thebes while the king and his
wife went to superintend the building of the temple, palaces, etc., of
the new city which Khu-n-aten had resolved to build and make his royal
residence. Angry blood rose between him, his priests and his people,
but he was dictator, he would no longer dwell among them, but in a new
and richly adorned city, worthy of the faith which he held, and whose
building should equal or surpass older monuments. He issued a command
to obliterate from the tombs of his ancestors the names of the god
Amon and the goddess Mut. This fanned the smouldering discontent into
flames and open rebellion broke out. Against Amon the king seemed to
hold a particular spite, and around the shrine of this god priests and
followers mustered their forces.

But although the king abandoned Thebes, he retained his power and was
not overthrown. No council of priests or people brought him to trial,
sent him into exile, or took his life. Nor in turn does he seem to have
been severe or vengeful. No records remain, as is frequently the case
in such instances, of barbarous punishments or cruel executions being
meted out to the offenders. For the time being, if for that only, he
was absolute and carried his point. He could afford to be generous.

The new capital was distant from both Memphis and Thebes, in middle
Egypt, and received the name of Khu-a-ten, or as it is elsewhere given,
Khuteteyn, “the horizon of the sun,” the modern Tel-el-Amarna or
El-Amarna, the extensive ruins of which may yet be seen on both banks
of the Nile. Like Solomon in Scripture, the potentate summoned to his
assistance both artists and artizans, and the work was pressed with all
possible vigor and speed. First the temple, then the palaces and homes
of the nobility, lastly, in the neighborhood, their tombs. It is said
that a revolution in art proceeded side by side with that in religion,
an attempt was made to discard the older traditions and approximate
more nearly to nature, and the specimen of these attempts at realism,
to be found in the tombs, are of great interest. To this fact some
authorities attribute the singular and disagreeable portraits of the
king before referred to.

How deeply Queen Tyi’s heart was stirred and how keenly her feelings
were concerned we may well conceive. The great enterprise was the
development of her heart’s desire and every aid in her power she must
have lent to the king’s assistance. Remaining in the old city she could
no doubt expedite the sending of all sorts of supplies and materials
required for the buildings and the private needs of her beloved son and
his family.

Architecture and sculpture were ever important in the eyes of the
Egyptian kings, and even the queens had their own sculptors and
overseers of such work. Timber was scarce, quarries of sandstone and
limestone numerous, hence the more enduring was the commoner material,
which has preserved to posterity much that, had the ancient world been
constructed of our more perishable wood and brick, in all probability
would have utterly passed away. Some of the temples, as many of the
tombs, of which those at Beni Hassan are an example, were in grottoes
and caves, others stood alone in majestic grandeur; in all columns were
used and the lotus was the prevailing ornament. Says Kendric, “As the
columns of Beni Hassan gave rise to the Doric, so those which imitate
plants and flowers appear to be the origin of the Corinthian. The
Ionian volute is found in the columns of Persepolis, but in no Egyptian
monument. It was probably of Assyrian origin, as it has been found in
the remains of Nineveh.”

An inscription at Telel-Amarna reads, “And for the first time the king
gave the command to call together all the masons from the Island of
Elephantine to the town of Samud (special name for Migdol in Lower
Egypt) and the chiefs and the leaders of the people to open a great
quarry of the hard stone for the erection of the great obelisk of
Har-makhu, by his name, as the god of light, who is (worshipped) as
the sun’s disk in Thebes. Thither came the great and noble lords and
the chief of the fan-bearers, to superintend the cutting and shipping
of the stone.” Brugsch tells us that the stone quarry of Assoan and
the cliffs of Silsilis on each side of the river furnished, the former
rose and black granite, and the latter hard brown sandstone for this
work. He also thinks that King Khu-n-aten designed to build in Thebes a
gigantic pyramid of this same stone to the honor of his god.

Not far from the Nile, in the new city, rose the great temple of the
sun. It was on a wide plain, the mountains rising behind it as says the
same author, “like an encompassing wall.” The king also bestowed great
honor upon his chief overseers and helpers, who accepted the new faith
and entered into the work with real or assumed enthusiasm.

One named Meri-ra or Mery-Re “dear to the sun” was high-priest
or prophet, the Pharaoh bestowing upon him words of praise and
commendation and investing him with that special kingly reward,
a golden necklace. His tomb at Tel el Amarna is one of the most
interesting and largest that have been found. It is supported by
columns and on its walls are depicted many scenes giving portraits
of the deceased and his wife, the king and queen making offerings to
the sun, the princesses and others. And it is here that is found the
picture of the bestowal of the golden necklace.

A certain Aahmes, one of the many, for this seems long to have been a
favorite name in Egypt, was another highly valued assistant and among
the sepulchral inscriptions found at Tel-el-Amarna was a prayer to the
son written by him. Beginning with ascription, it reads, “Beautiful is
thy setting thou son’s disk of life, thou lord of lords and king of
worlds,” and ending with professions of devotion to the king, as his
“divine benefactor,” who had raised him to greatness, which naturally
perhaps appears to have produced a very pleasing state of mind, for
he concludes “the servant of the prince rejoices and is in a festive
disposition every day.”

At this time there were at least several grandchildren of Queen Tyi, as
special houses were prepared for them in connection with the palace.
We can therefore imagine the impatience with which the dowager queen
awaited the time for her journey to the new city and rejoining her
loved ones, and couriers were doubtless busy, passing back and forth,
with orders and directions from the king, as well as messages of
affection to his mother, which were returned in full measure. It seems
almost as if it might be at his special desire that she remained in
Thebes, to lend him, as before said, all the aid in her power towards
the completion of his work and that he might have the satisfaction of
welcoming her to his new capital in a nearly completed state. She may
also have acted to some extent as regent in his absence.

Her time of anticipation therefore must have endured for some years,
since the erection of buildings of such magnitude could not have been
accomplished in a very short period, no matter what the expedition used
for the purpose. This second journey may well have reminded Queen Tyi
of an earlier one she had taken in her youth, from her far native land,
as the wife or the affianced bride of Amenophis III. That had been the
seed-time, the sowing of which had produced such great fruits. Again
she went forward attended by a large retinue, but now it was not to a
land of promise, but one of fulfilment.

The king and his wife met the dowager queen after their long separation
with all honor and affection, and themselves conducted her into the
new temple. A picture of this scene, which remains, is thus inscribed,
“Introduction of the queen mother to behold her sun shadow,” and very
happy she must have felt in thus viewing the visible tokens of the
realization of the dreams, hopes and prayers of many years. She must
inspect the temple, the palaces of the king, queen and the various
princesses, as well as the dwelling prepared for herself, and no
doubt be made acquainted with the chief overseers and artists whom
“the king delighted to honor,” and under whose charge the work had
so prospered. The private houses were probably varied in color and
frequently decorated on the outside with pictures of the occupations or
professions of the owners. Beyond, some such scene as this, an immense
meadow cut through with a blue stream, north and south, white walls
of towns, on the horizons rim the reddish sands of the desert. The
myth they believed in was this, “Osiris fell in love with this strip
of land in the midst of deserts. He covered it with plants and living
creatures, so as to have from them profit. Then the kindly god took a
human form and became the first pharaoh. When he felt that his body
was withering he left it and entered into his son and later into his
son’s son. The lord has extended like a mighty tree. All the pharaohs
are his roots, the nomarks and priests his larger branches, the nobles
the smaller branches. The visible god sits on the throne of the earth
and receives the income which belongs to him from Egypt; the invisible
god receives offerings in his temples and declares his will through the
lips of the priesthood.”

It was a joyful reunion, this of the elder queen with her son and his
family, an occasion never to be forgotten in their domestic annals,
and we may imagine how the story was handed down from generation to
generation. The day when grandmother, or great-grandmother came and
saw the new temple and new city. Loved and honored Queen Tyi probably
settled down with or near her son and his wife, enjoying to the full
the kindly family life and seeing as had her mother-in-law before her
the grandchildren gather around. Perhaps she regretted that no son was
born to succeed his father, for King Khu-n-aten had daughters only,
but her life had been a full and happy one and she had enjoyed the
blessing, accorded to but few, of seeing her heart’s dearest wishes
fulfilled. What more could she ask?

Whether she passed away in Khu-aten, or Tel-el-Amarna, we do not know,
but if the former was the case a long mourning procession, attended
with every honor, must have borne her inanimate form preserved in the
highest style of the embalmer’s art, back to Thebes, for there in the
Tombs of the Queens her last resting place has been found. These tombs
are at the end of a valley, which extends for nearly a mile to the west
of the temple of Medinet Habu, that of Tyi is said to be among the
most perfect. The valley which leads to the tombs has bare and lofty
limestone cliffs on either side, which are covered with inscriptions;
it is not so familiar as some other places in Egypt, not being very
easy of access. More than twenty tombs in various stages of completion
have been discovered, some of them mere caves with their records often
made not in the solid stone, but in plaster. Queen Tyi’s tomb consists
of an ante-chamber, passages, a chapel, and small chambers, all more
or less decorated with paintings. At the entrance, on either side, is
Maat, the goddess of Truth, with extended wings, to protect those who
come in. There are various pictures of the gods and of Queen Tyi, in
one of which she prays to them, seated at a banquet table.

Of these tombs Curtis says, “The sculpture and paintings are gracious
and simple. They are not graceful, but suggest the grace and repose
which the ideal of female life requires. In the graceful largeness and
simplicity of the character of the decoration it seems as if the secret
or reverence for womanly character and influence, which was to be later
revealed was instinctively suggested by those who knew them not. The
cheerful yellow hues of the walls and their exposure to the day, the
warm silence of the hills, seclusion, and the rich luminous landscape
in the vista of the steep valley, make these tombs pleasant pavilions
of memory.”




CHAPTER THIRTEENTH.

NEFERTITI.


Before the death of Amenophis III he seems to have adopted the frequent
Egyptian habit of associating his son with him on the throne, though
the latter was probably young, as Queen Tyi appears to have acted as
regent after her husband’s death. Also, at the time of his death, the
father was negotiating for a marriage between his heir and a Mitannian
princess, the same country from which had come Queen Tyi herself, and
the wife of Thothmes IV. That the existing relationship gave the new
queen some title to the throne is proved by her being spoken of as “the
great heiress, princess of all women,” and “the princess of South and
North, the lady of both lands,” which imply hereditary rights, possibly
through the mother.

She was the daughter of Dushratta, King of Mitanni, and it may have
been that her father was Queen Tyi’s brother and she herself the
cousin of Amenophis IV, but the matter is not absolutely clear. A
certain Dushratta, not satisfied about the safety of his sister, who
had married Amenophis III, had sent to Egypt to inquire after her, but
the repetition or duplication of a name often makes it difficult to
decide upon the exact relationship. From the letters found on tablets
in the ruins of Tel-el-Amarna, many of which of course are broken and
imperfect, we have chiefly derived the information we possess of these
transactions. Queen Tyi seems also to have held the power for a brief
period at Tel-el-Amarna, but exactly when this was the case has not
been discovered.

In her own country the bride-elect bore the name of Tadukipa, but
in Egypt she became Nefert-Thi, Nefertity, or Nefertiti, her full
name being known as Aten’nefer’ neferu’nefertiti. After the death of
Amenophis III Queen Tyi sent word of this event to the Babylonish
prince, and some correspondence took place between them before matters
were finally settled and Amenophis IV or Napkhurruiya, as he is
called in the letters, was married and assumed full control of his
own affairs. There was, of course, an exchange of presents, gold,
slaves, etc., as was usual on such occasions, and no failure on either
side of a satisfactory pecuniary showing seems to have interfered
with the prospects of the youthful pair, such as had been known, not
unfrequently, in other cases.

The beautiful, deserving or undeserving, are apt to win favor. By this
rule therefore the pictures of King Khu-n-aten or Aten’ nefer’neferu
and Queen Nefertiti are sufficiently ugly to prejudice the most casual
observer. One is tempted to see in these hideous effigies rather the
work of a defamer than a true portrait. Early pictures of the king are
handsome and not unlike some of Rameses II, the change is attributed by
late writers to the new style of art to be seen in his reign. Certainly
the king sacrificed himself nobly to the cause of Truth, if he was a
consenting party to his own portraiture.

It is believed that the accession of Khu-n-aten took place in the
thirty-first year of his father’s reign, in the month Pakhons, or
February, and that his marriage occurred in the month Epiphi, or May,
four years later. In his sixth year he abandoned the god Amon, or Amen,
and adopted the Aten worship. In his sixth year also, after the birth
of his second daughter, came the change of name and facial type at
Thebes, Maat only of the old divinities seems to have been retained.
The pictures of this period show rays of sunbeams terminating in tiny
hands which support the bodies, crowns, etc., of the royal pair.

From first to last the queen is closely associated with her husband,
constantly pictured with him, a true companion and helpmate, a faithful
guardian of his children, and a devoted daughter to his mother,
possibly her aunt, whose name, in part, she seems to have taken. As
Kidijah upheld and supported Mahomet in the promulgation of his newly
received revelation, so did Nefertiti accept and lend her wifely aid to
the faith of her husband and his mother.

A prayer or address to the rising sun is attributed to her and shows
the religious fervor with which she was penetrated.

“Thou disk of the sun, thou living god! there is none other beside
thee! Thou givest health to the eyes through thy beams, creator of all
beings. Thou goest up on the eastern horizon of the heavens to dispense
life to all whom thou hast created; to man, to four-footed beasts,
birds and all manner of creeping things on the earth, when they live.
Thus they behold thee and they go to sleep when thou settest.

“Grant to thy son who loves thee life in truth to the Lord of the land
that he may live united with thee in eternity.

“Behold his wife the queen Nefert-i-Thi, may she live forevermore and
eternally by his side, well pleasing to thee she admires what thou
hast created day by day. He (the king) rejoices at the sight of thy
benefits. Grant him a long existence as king of the land.”

At Heliopolis the sun-god Ra had been specially worshipped. He was
pictured hawk-headed, surmounted by disk and uraeus, hence with
priests at Heliopolis the king may have been in greater sympathy than
with those at other points, where the various gods were worshipped.
It is possible, too, that they were less antagonistic to him than
the others, or may even have supported him. Be that as it may, at
Heliopolis Khu-n-aten built a temple. The shrine received gifts from
Pharaoh after Pharaoh and was very wealthy. It also had at one time an
immense library. “The city,” says Strabo, who came to it shortly after
the Christian Era, “is situated upon a large mound. It contains the
Temple of the Sun,” probably a later one than that of Amenophis IV,
“and the Ox Mnevis, which is kept in a sanctuary, and is regarded by
the inhabitants as a god.” Says Pollard, “The temple had three courts,
each one probably adorned with obelisks, which were so numerous that
one was called ‘The City of Obelisks.’ Pharaohs of different dynasties
erected a pair of obelisks in the temple of the Sun as an offering and
a memorial. After the third court came the Naos, with its outer chamber
or holy place and its inner or holy of holies, in which was the shrine
with the symbol of the deity. Strabo tells us that the ox Mnevis was
kept in the sanctuary.”

Six daughters, one after another, enlarged the family circle of the
palace “a garland of princesses,” as they have been poetically called.
They constantly appear in the pictures with their parents and even
attended their father in his expeditions in his chariot. Their names
are given as Mi-aten or Mut-aten, Mak-aten, Anknes-aten, Nofru-aten, or
Nofrura, Ta-shera, Satem-en-ra and Bek-aten, some doubt seems to exist
as to whether the last was daughter or grand-daughter of Queen Tyi. A
standing figure of this princess, at which the artists are still seen
chiselling from life, under the eye of the queen’s overseer, Putha, by
name, is among the various wall paintings. Perhaps she was an especial
darling, this youngest child, or she may have had a particularly
beautiful face and form; but the temple walls were said to have been
nearly covered with the pictures of the king, queen and princess.
Aten-en-aten or Khu-n-aten’s feelings towards his family were tinged
with all a lover’s enthusiasm. His words have a poetic cast.

“The beams of the sun’s disk shone over him with a pure light so as to
make young his body daily.

“Therefore King Khu-n-aten swore an oath to his father thus: Sweet love
fills my heart for the queen, for her young children. Grant a great
age to the queen Nofrit-Thi in long years; may she keep the hand of
Pharaoh. Grant a great age to the royal daughter Meri-aten and to the
royal daughter Mak-aten and to their children, may they keep the hand
of the queen their mother eternally and forever.

“What I swear is a true avowal of what my heart says to me. Never
is there falsehood in what I say,” and he ends a long inscription,
relative to the setting up of various memorial tablets with, “These
memorial tablets which were placed in the midst had fallen down. I will
have them raised up afresh and have them placed again in the situation
in which they were (previously). This I swear to do in the 8th year,
in the month Tybi, on the 9th day the king was in Khuaten and Pharaoh
mounted on his court chariot of polished copper to behold the memorial
tablets of the disk of the sun which are on the hills of the territory
to the south-east of Khu-aten.” And perhaps the queen and the eldest
daughters followed him to make this investigation. Brugsch says the
inscriptions on these tablets were first found and published by Prisse
d’Avennes.

The series of tablets discovered at Tel-el-Amarna in 1888 are chiefly
in the museums of London, Berlin, Paris and St. Petersburgh, with a few
at Gizeh. One letter is from a lady who styles herself “the handmaid”
of the king and others relate to the exchange of presents and slaves,
men and girls.

Another beloved member of this amiable family was the princess
Notem-Mut, younger sister of the queen, who seems quite to have been
counted in. She, too, had a special palace built for her, and married
Horem-heb or Ho-rem-hib, not of royal birth, but who eventually became
the last king of this, the Eighteenth Dynasty. He may have had two
wives, or else Notem-mut changed her name, as we read also of a queen
Ese as his spouse.

The temples and palaces were of a somewhat different style of
architecture from the usual Egyptian form, but they were beautiful,
with their open courts, and calculated for the needs of those who
were to occupy them, as well as for the character of the country and
climate. The names of the artists and architects are preserved, which
is not usually the case, and their talent seems to have descended in
the family, for we learn that a certain Bek, overseer, artist and
teacher of the king, was a grandson of Hor-amoo, who had served in the
same office under Amenophis III.

“The tombstone of the artist, Bek,” says Brugsch, “was put up for
sale some years ago in the open market place in Cairo. My respected
friend, Mr. L. Vassali, bought it, and was good enough to give me an
exact drawing of the carving upon it and a paper impression of the
inscription.”

The wall pictures that were found in the tombs present the king and
queen seated on a balcony with their eldest children, the baby in the
mother’s lap, enduring certain officials with the necklace of honor
and casting down presents to the crowd. A pleasant sport, enjoyed in
common by the whole family party. Queen Tyi, the chief of the women’s
department, named Hai, the steward, the treasurer and other members of
the court, also shared in the fun.

Another picture gives the king and queen worshipping the sun,
accompanied by two of their daughters, showing clearly that all the
duties and pleasures of life were shared in this amiable family. A
touch of Nature makes us all kin, and this recalls the picture one
often sees of domestic life among the Germans, where father, mother and
children go off for a picnic or a frolic together, while the Frenchman
perhaps is in the café alone.

The Egyptians were highly skilled in pottery and faience; fine glazing
on pottery, stone and in enamels on goldsmith work is shown at the
beginning of the New Empire. Tel-el-Amarna seems to have been quite
celebrated for its pottery and the fabrication of delicate enamels, of
which many specimens, in a great variety of colors, have been found.
The vase of Queen Tyi, preserved in the Boulak Museum, is grey and
blue. Olive-shaped amulets of the kings and princesses of this family
show delicate blue hieroglyphics on a mauve ground, while the potters
of the time of Amenophis III are said to have been particularly fond of
violets and greys.

Less warlike than the majority of his predecessors, we still read of
some fighting during Aten-aten’s or Khu-n-aten’s reign and victories
over the Syrians and other nations, which the king, though probably
not taking the field himself, celebrated with the customary festival.
He appears in “the full Pharaonic attire, adorned with the insignia of
his rank, on his lion throne, carried on the shoulders of his warriors.
At his side walk servants, who, with long fans, wave the cool air
upon their heated lord.” This was in the twelfth year of his reign,
on the 18th day of the month Mekhir, December. The crook, whip, and
sickle-shaped sword were emblems of royalty, while of the New Empire
was a canopy raised on wooden pillars, colored and ornamented, with
a thick carpet on seat, footstool and floor. On ordinary occasions
the king was probably carried in a sort of Sedan chair of splendid
appearance.

Later occurred the marriages of some of the daughters, and as no
son was born, two at least of the sons-in-law seem to have ruled in
succession, and it is pleasant to be able to believe that this was
peacefully accomplished, without the family jars and broils so often
coincident with the dividing of a heritage. In modern parlance the
ladies do not seem to have made very brilliant matches. No foreign
prince or monarch is recorded as being an accepted suitor. “Home
talent” was strictly patronized, and the sons of high officials were
deemed suitable parties, who by right of their wives it would seem,
succeeded each other as king. Their reigns were short enough for each
to have a turn as the pleasant task of ruling.

Several of his daughters, as well as his wife, waited on Khu-n-aten in
his last illness; Nefertiti survived him and may have lived till the
time of Horem-heb, or even to that of Sety I. The tomb of the king was
seven miles from the river in one of the great valleys which open on
the plain of Tel-el-Amarna, the situation resembling that of Amenophis
III at Thebes. That he was mourned deeply, at least by those nearest
and dearest to him, there can be little doubt, yet his children soon
turned from the religion he had tried to establish, to the earlier
worship, in its form of devotion to many gods, under the semblance of
various animals. The slabs found at Memphis, the stele at Sakkarah,
and the remains of the great temple at Tel-el-Amarna, twenty-five feet
square, the enclosure nearly half a mile long, all speak of this king.

Statues of him, his wife and Queen Tyi have been found, a beautiful and
perfect one of the king is in the Louvre, and there is a death mask,
which, among his various names, speaks of him as the “lord of the sweet
wind.” Fragments of the stele with which his palace was decorated are
to be seen in some of the museums in Europe, also in the museum of the
University of Pennsylvania, and perhaps at other points in this country.

It seems to have been the sons-in-law who took chief authority, after
Khu-n-aten’s death, and not the queen. She survived her husband for
years. Her palace had a court, or harim, with glazed tiles, the walls
painted with scenes, and the floor with pools, birds, cattle and
wild plants. In the court was a fine well with a canopy on carved
columns, and round coping, and an inscription with the queen’s titles.
In the temple offerings of flowers were made and hymns sung to the
accompaniment of harps, it was perhaps a return to the practice of the
earliest times, and one writer suggests that its simplicity points to
the Vedism of India. The queen and her daughters are shown waiting
on the king in his illness. There is a fine fragment of a statue of
the queen at Amherst college, and a gold ring and some other personal
belongings at other places. With the death mask of the king in the
University of Pennsylvania are some fragments from Tel-el-Amarna giving
the names and title of Queen Nefertiti. Khu-n-aten is thought by late
discoveries to have reigned seventeen or eighteen years.

As usual authorities differ, some giving Ai as the immediate successor
of Khu-n-aten, others placing before him several kings, and numbering
him just before Horem-heb, Horem-hib or Horus, the last monarch of the
Eighteenth Dynasty. Some again refuse to recognize the heretic king and
his descendants at all, and consider Horem-hib, who had returned to the
polytheistic creed, as the true and direct successor of Amenophis III.
It seems likely, however, that the eldest daughter, Mut-aten, born in
the fourth year of her father’s reign was married just before his death
to Re’smenkh’ka and that her husband was, for a time, co-regent. Both
his and her name have been found on a tomb, these tomb inscriptions
always throwing great light on this history of the time to which they
refer. If, as estimated, she was thirteen at the time of her marriage
and twenty-five at her husband’s death, he reigned over twelve years.

The second daughter, Mak-aten, died before her father, between her
ninth and eleventh years; her tomb is in a side chapel of her father’s
and the family are shown mourning for her, but she appears in the
picture of the six princesses. Anknes-aten or Ankh s’en’pa’aten was
born in the eighth year of her father’s reign and was ten years of age
at his death. In her sister’s reign she was married to Tut-ankh’aten
and changed her name to Ankh’s’en’amen, “her life is from Amen,”
showing that already the changes her father had made were discarded.
A few rings belonging to her remain, but with the exception of these
relics nothing more is known of the other daughters, also nothing is
known beyond figures and names on general monuments. Of Ras’ Ra’smenka
or Ra’smenkh’ka’ser’kheperu, husband of the eldest daughter of Queen
Nefertiti it is believed that he abandoned the palace in his third year
of sovereignty and perhaps went to Thebes; there are few remains of
him, but the dates are estimated as 1368-1358 B. C.

Tut’ankh-Amon or Twet-Ankh-Amon, “the living image of Aman” and husband
of Anknes-amon, transferred his residence to Thebes (which, after
all, had suffered little from the rivalry of Tel-el-Amarna), hastily
finished the great hall and had it decorated with reliefs, representing
the great festival which occurred at Luxor on New Year’s Day, when the
sacred boats were brought up in procession, on the Nile, from Karnak,
and carried into the temple. In these reliefs, of course, the king’s
name largely figured, but, in the not uncommon fashion of these various
monarchs, his brother-in-law, who later succeeded him, King Horem-heb,
freely substituted his own name. A picture of King Tut’ankh Amon
holding court and receiving a negro queen, either as a visitor or as
offering tribute, was found on the wall of a tomb. The royal lady was
depicted in a chariot, drawn by oxen and surrounded by her servants, a
prototype of a later visit of the Queen of Sheba to King Solomon. From
the north also came the ruddy princes of the land of Ruthen, with curly
black hair and in rich dresses. The two governors of the South and
North, Hi and Amenhotep, also came; they had served under Amenophis III
and must have been of ripe years. Brugsch calls it “a large and lively
picture of the manners and riches of the South and of the North in the
fifteenth century, before Christ.” All bring rich gifts and ask for
peace and friendship between themselves and the great Pharaoh.

King Ai was probably husband of one of the daughters, though his
wife is elsewhere spoken of as the foster-mother of King Khu-n-aten,
which seems rather hopelessly to mix up the chronology. In this case
she is spoken of as Thi, the beloved name of that king’s own mother.
They are also called respectively “the dressers of the king,” and
“the high nurse, the nourishing mother of the godlike one.” Ai’s fine
tomb at Tel-el-Amarna gives an account of his marriage. The tomb was
never entirely finished; it is described by one traveller as having
a sepulchral hall, beautifully painted, with colors still fresh and
brilliant, with the sarcophagus standing in the middle, among the
pictures, the king painted red and the queen of a pale yellow, are
shown gathering lotus flowers; also the king being presented by the
goddesses Mat and Hathor to Osiris. Perhaps two wives shared the honor
of sovereignty with King Ai, or the second may have been espoused after
the death of the first, and it seems likely the latter was much her
husband’s junior.

Maspero gives a description of the palace of King Ai, also pictured
on the walls of the Tel-el-Amarna tombs. He calls him the son-in-law
of Khu-en-aten. “An oblong tank with sloping sides and two descending
flights of steps, faces the entrance. The building is rectangular, the
width being somewhat greater than the depth. A large doorway opens in
the front, and gives access to a court planted with trees, and flanked
by storehouses, fully stocked with provisions. Two small courts, placed
symmetrically in the two further corners, contain the staircases,
which lead up to the terrace. This first building, however, is but the
frame which surrounds the owner’s dwelling. The two frontages are much
adorned with a pillared portico and a pylon. Passing the outer door,
one enters a sort of central passage, divided by two walls, pierced
with doorways, so as to form three successive courts. The inside court
is bordered by chambers, the two others open to right and left upon two
smaller courts, whence flights of steps lead up to the terraced roof.
This central building is called the ‘Akhonuti,’ or private dwelling
of kings and nobles, to which only the family or intimate friends had
access.”

All this, of course, varied in different cases with the taste of the
owner, and the long, straight wall in front was sometimes divided and
ornamented with colonnades and towers.

The old religion was resuming its sway, and the priests of
Amon regaining their lost influence. They accepted the rule of
Tut’ankh-Amon, whose monuments are said to extend only from Memphis
to Thebes, and still more that of Ay, who was a true worshipper of
the old gods. His reign, however, is spoken of as “feeble,” and the
principal monument of the time is a shrine, high up in the face of
cliffs, behind Ekhmin. King Ay seemed to have a special passion for
tomb building, as there are no less than three attributed to him. The
first at Tel-el-Amarna, the last at Thebes, coincident probably with
his complete change of religious views and associations.

Ay died and left no children, and was succeeded by Horem-heb, or
Horem-hib, who then was, or subsequently became, his uncle by a
marriage with the Princess Notem-Mut, or Nezem-Mut, sister of Queen
Nefertiti. The history of this time is, as yet, far from clear, and
dates which fit in approximately to one set of theories, refuse to
combine with others; some hold that Queen Nefertiti had been originally
sent to Egypt to be the bride of Amenophis III, and that his death
occurring before her arrival, she then became the wife of his son. This
last arrangement, judging by the probable years of the parties, was
more natural, and the union seemed to have proved a most happy one,
as all the pictures show complete concord of interest and sentiment
between the two. Defaced pictures of both Queen Tyi and Queen Nefertiti
are found in the tombs, and the mummy of King Khu-n-aten was found in
the tomb of Amenophis II, where it had, probably been removed to avoid
spoliation, his tomb having been originally elsewhere.

King Horem-heb seems first to have been a renowned general in the
army, and though not of royal birth, his horoscope foretold for him
great success. The earlier histories of him say that he was a special
favorite of King Khu-n-aten, who made him guardian of the kingdom,
which position, so near the throne, suggests opportunities to win the
heart of the princess. The god Amon, it is said, brought her to him,
“the crown prince Horem-hib,” and the inscription adds, “she bowed
herself and embraced his pleasant form, and placed herself before him.”
Was it perchance on account of this kind service of the god that they
both espoused his religion so fervently, or did the priests tamper with
the princess and she inspire her lover with enthusiasm for the old
beliefs?

This romantic history, however, loses somewhat of its glamour under the
realistic touches and conclusions of later students. The princess was
a priestess of Amon, and the marriage of the two, it is claimed, was
merely a political one, both king and queen being between fifty and
sixty at the time of their union. The kind offices of the god may be,
so to speak, mythologically considered. The long account which gives
an exultant story of his coronation, prejudges the fact that both the
king and queen were zealous supporters of the ancient religion, and
again Thebes became the royal city. The work of Khu-n-aten there was
destroyed and a new temple built. At Karnak, as was frequently the
wont of the kings, Horem-hib built with materials taken from a ruined
temple of Amenophis II. He also built a rock temple at Silsilis, where
inscriptions certify to his victories.

The pictures of this king and his mother Sonit, at a banquet, where
some of the company were of the living, some of the dead, has been
described in an earlier chapter, as also the statues of himself and
his wife, he with a handsome, melancholy face, she also handsome, but
with a touch of sarcasm in her smile. Her likeness has been ascribed to
other queens.

The group of Horem-hib and the god Amon, in the Turin Museum, is
pronounced to be “dry in treatment,” while the colossi in red granite,
against his pylon at Karnak, the bas-reliefs at Silsilis, and the
portrait statue just referred to are deemed by the same critic
“faultless.” Other wall decorations show the king conferring the
insignia of the Golden Collar upon a certain Nefer-hotep of Thebes. He
is sometimes improperly called Horus, while Manetho by this name refers
to Khu-n-aten.

Of Queen Nezem-mut there are not many remains, and these may be briefly
enumerated. She figures in the tomb of Ay in a family group; there
is the statue of her with the King at Turin; she appears as a female
sphinx as given by Rosellini, there is a scarab at Berlin, and a
frog with her name at Abydos. Since, with the reign of Horem-hib the
eighteenth dynasty concludes, and so little is to be found as regards
his wife, we have included her brief history with that of her sister,
Queen Nefertiti, in the present chapter. A new dynasty, the nineteenth,
succeeded, while some authorities maintain that the early members of
the Ramesside family were contemporary with Horem-hib.




CHAPTER FOURTEENTH.

TUAA.


Probably years after Queen Tyi, or Tuaa, wife of Amenophis III and
mother of the heretic King Khu-n-aten, was laid in her grave, her
grand-daughter and namesake became the consort of the reigning monarch.
The Eighteenth Dynasty had passed away and a new race held sway.
They seem to have had no hereditary title to the crown, but may have
claimed Hyksos ancestry. Might, however, often makes right, and they
were a noted and powerful succession of monarchs. After King Horem-hib
and Queen Notem-Mut came in Rameses I, of the Nineteenth Dynasty, of
whose wife we at present know nothing, though future discoveries may
reveal her identity. After a short reign the king was succeeded by his
son Seti, or Sety I, called Merenptah or Mereptah, “Son of Ptah,” who
strengthened his position by marrying a descendant of the preceding
royal line. She brought him as her dower, in addition to whatever else
she might have been mistress of, the valuable possession of the true
“blue blood,” which she conferred upon her son, Rameses II, “born of
Ra,” and thus made his claim to the crown indisputable.

Queen Ti, Thy, Tyi, Tui, or Tuaa, as her name is variously spelled,
did not have so romantic a love story as did her great ancestress, but
neither would it be quite fair to set down her marriage with Set I as
purely one of convenience, no matter how much each might have gained by
the union. Their opportunities of meeting, since Egyptian women are not
so cloistered as other Eastern nations, may have been frequent, and it
is possible the connection may have been one of feeling, as well as of
state policy. Of her early life, however, we know nothing, nor are we
assured of the name of her parents. In marrying her Seti I conformed
to the usual but not invariable custom of these monarchs, in uniting
themselves with a princess of Egyptian lineage.

The priests acknowledged the new queen as of the blood royal, the
true Theban line, hence there could be no dispute as to the rights of
her children. Her experiences were different from those of her great
predecessor of the name; she did not journey from a far country to meet
her husband, in all probability, as did her great-grandmother, nor did
she share with him as did her grandmother, in the effort to promulgate
a new religion, constantly pictured beside him in all his occupations.
She was both the wife and mother of a warrior, and life must of
necessity have passed much a part from them.

To us Queen Tuaa is but a shadowy form, chiefly known as the mother of
perhaps the greatest king in the long Egyptian line. Some of her traits
of character, some of her features, may have descended to this haughty
scion of the race, but they are now beyond our power of specification.
He did not show her, apparently, the devotion the first Tyi received
from her son, and in his attention to his father’s tomb there is no
record of any special care of his mother’s, though doubtless it was not
neglected. “On the walls of one of the temples,” says one traveler,
“the youthful Rameses is being suckled by the goddesses; on the one
side by Anek (or Anouka) ‘his divine mother, Lady of Elephantine’;
on the other by Hathor, with a similar inscription, the features are
so much alike that they probably represent those of his own mother.”
As a child even Rameses must have been freed, in great measure, from
his mother’s guidance, since, to establish himself more firmly on the
throne, Seti made his son co-ruler with himself, and, to some extent, a
sharer in the cares of state and knowledge of warfare.

It is said that Queen Tuaa acted as regent for husband or son during a
Syrian campaign. She must have been proud of her talented and precious
child, but state etiquette doubtless separated her much from him, and
there may have been more outlet for motherly care and tenderness among
her other children; of these we do not find much record, save one
brother, to whom Rameses was greatly attached. This brother was called
Khamus. Tuaa is not recorded as having shared her queenly honors or her
husband’s affection with other wives, at any rate, she was the legal
consort.

Lady Duff Gordon speaks of Egypt as “the palimpsest in which the Bible
is written over Herodotus, and the Koran over that.” At this period it
was in the middle stage of this classification. The modern Copt most
resembles the ancient Egyptian; the nose and eyes are the same as in
the profiles in the tombs and temples. The fellah woman of the present,
it is said, walks around the ancient statues in order to have children,
and the customs at birth and burial are the same as in ancient times.
Of marriage customs of the past less is known, as we have to bear in
mind, than of their funeral ceremonies. The genuine Egyptian had a
bronze colored skin, recognizing a brother countryman at a glance and
despising black, yellow and even white skins; the queen herself, being
of ancient race, may have indulged this feeling; certainly it was most
apparent in her haughty son.

Was Queen Tuaa beautiful, good looks being usually thought an important
part of the claims of a royal bride to her position, a picture, often
flattered, being the only means a royal suitor had to judge of his
future wife? Curtis thus describes a beautiful Egyptian: “The Greek
Venus was sea born, but our Egyptian is sun born. The brown blood of
the sun burns along her veins—the soul of the sun streams shaded from
her eyes.” Fascinating are the almond-eyes of Egyptian women, bordered
black with the kohl, whose intensity accords with the sumptuous passion
that mingles moist and languid with their light; Eastern eyes are full
of moonlight. Eastern beauty is a dream of passionate possibility. Was
the queen perchance of this temperament: “I am of a silent disposition.
I never tell what I see. I spoil not the sweetness of my fruits by vain
tattling.” For posterity, at least, she has proved so, for we know
little of her.

The chief, if not the only picture of Queen Tuaa, is in the temple
of Goornah or El Kurn-neh, which is described as a memorial edifice,
like the Medici Chapel in Florence. Begun by Seti I, as a memorial to
Rameses I, it was completed by Rameses II. They were handsome men of
a Dantesque type, and their mothers and wives probably fair women,
the men, especially, different in appearance from the preceding race.
Rameses I was the tutelary deity of the shrine. He stands swathed and
crowned like Osiris, with the pointed and upturned beard peculiar to
the gods, worshipped, in one picture, by his own son, Seti I, and in
another by his grandson, Rameses II.

“In Egypt every man,” especially if he were of royal birth, “received,
after death, by courtesy, the title of Osiris, because it was hoped he
had attained blessedness in the bosom of the god.”

Queen Tuaa stands behind her husband, and Miss Edwards finds in her
delicate but slightly angular profile a resemblance to some of the
portraits of Queen Elizabeth. In Rameses II she says “the beauty of the
race culminates. The artists of the Egyptian Renaissance, always great
in profile portraits, are nowhere seen to better advantage than in this
series.”

A statue of the Lady Nai, in the Louvre, may give some idea of the
dress of this period, the nineteenth dynasty. She wears a long wig,
with a band round her head, a tight garment of linen, not unlike the
modern chemise, only narrower, and a strip of linen hanging down in
front.

This temple of El Kurneh is at the entrance of the valley of the Tombs
of the Kings, and the cutting is called by the Arabs Bab-el-Molook,
“gate of the Sultan.” The road is narrow and stony, its desert sands
dazzling in the brilliant sunshine, leading to a lonely and sepulchral
glen, honeycombed with the tombs of past dignitaries, nobles, priests
and monarchs.

Here and there, as we study the history of Egypt, is a link with the
Bible story, though nothing very definite has yet been discovered. It
is believed by some writers that Moses and Aaron lived in the age of
Seti I, and that Moses was brought up with the youthful Rameses II.
Others make the time somewhat later, and think that the princess who
rescued the deliverer of the Israelites from the water was one of the
many daughters of the great Sesostris.

Thebes was probably Queen Tuaa’s principal residence, and the palace
saw many partings, since with warriors for husband, sons and grandsons,
if the queen survived so long, they must have been frequently absent,
and she must needs have passed some anxious hours. But so essentially
was war the trade of the monarchs of ancient times, and in the lives of
their female relatives so much a matter of course, that it would seem
as if the feminine heart must have become somewhat hardened. Doubtless
the royal lady looked forward to receiving a victor laden with spoils.
We almost seem to hear the burden of the refrain, “Have they not sped,
have they not divided the prey, to every man a damsel or two, to Sisera
a prey of diverse colors of needlework on both sides, meet for the
necks of them that take the spoil?” What matter to the conqueror, or
even to his consort, if thousands of lives paid the price?

Seti I was “a man of blood,” and is spoken of as “a jackal which rushes
leaping through the land, a grim lion that frequents the more hidden
paths of all regions, a powerful bull with a sharpened pair of horns.”
His chariot horses were called “Amon gives him strength.” But if, in
Scripture language, he chastised the people “with whips,” Rameses II,
his son, “chastised them with scorpions.”

Side by side with his father fought the youthful hero, and we are
reminded by them of a similar pair in more modern history, Edward III
of England and the Black Prince. Chief among the wars was that against
Khita, or Hittites, from which, as Queen Tuaa anticipated, Seti I
returned victorious. He came laden with rich booty, silver, gold, blue,
green, red and other precious stones. At the frontier the priests,
nobles and great men met him with gifts and flowers—conqueror, as he
was reported to be, of thirteen peoples and many cities. And we cannot
doubt that the palace, too, by Queen Tuaa’s orders, was specially
beautified and decorated with plants and flowers in honor of the
victor’s return. Booty and prisoners were dedicated to the god Amon,
his wife Mut, and his son Khonsu.

Little, perhaps, did Queen Tuaa then imagine that one of her
daughters-in-law, a princess of Khita, would be from among the
conquered people. But so it proved, when Rameses II formed an alliance
with the King of Khita and took his daughter to wife; but Queen Tuaa
may not have lived to see the union, since Rameses II in earlier times
had probably already provided himself with a wife.

Queen Tuaa must have viewed with interest, as did Queen Mertytefs of
the fourth dynasty, the magnificent architectural works of her husband.
In one case a temple of the gods, which yet recorded the king’s own
power, and in the other the tomb or monument which should keep before
the eyes of all future generations the name of its builder. The temple
lies largely in ruins, but the older structure has withstood to a much
greater degree the ravages of time and the wanton destruction of man.

The city of Thebes was magnificent with temples and palaces, and was
built on both sides of the Nile, the flat plain stretched away to the
mountains, and against the blue of the cloudless sky rose its towers
and pylons, its colossal columns and statues. Clusters or avenues
of palms lent a light but grateful shade from the sun’s unveiled
brightness, and added a touch of living green to the azure of the
firmament and creamy whiteness of some of the buildings. Others were of
different colors, giving a jewel-like effect at a distance in the rays
of the brilliant sun. In some instances the trade or profession of the
owner was pictured on the front walls. The streets were crowded with
people; beasts of burden, heavily laden, made their way slowly along.
Vendors of all sorts lined the sides of the street, and a hubbub of
voices rose constantly. In the grander objects Nature had furnished the
model, the mountain summits suggested the form of the pyramid and the
caves of the Nile valley the temples.

The temple of Luxor, or El Uksor, was near the river, but faced from it
toward that of Karnak, and a long avenue of sphinxes, a mile in extent,
connected the two. What one king began, another added to, and a third,
perhaps, finished; thus Seti I, and his, in some respects, greater son,
are, in their architectural works, constantly associated, together. The
sculpture of Siti, however, is considered the finer. The interiors of
the temples were often gloomy and dim, but at the summer solstice the
sun penetrated to the inner sanctuary of Karnak.

The grandeur of Karnak dwarfs that of Luxor, and the Hypostyle Hall,
built by Seti I for the celebration of religious festivals, in which
Queen Tuaa may have taken part, is, even in its ruined state, one of
the wonders of the world. In recent times some of the columns have
fallen. The temple was one hundred and seventy feet in length, three
hundred and twenty-nine in width, and supported by one hundred and
thirty-four columns, as large in circumference, though not so high,
as the Vendome column in Paris. The central lines are seventy feet in
height and twelve in diameter, while those on either side are forty
in height and nine in diameter. The effect of the great hall with its
forest of columns is awe-inspiring; one writer after another describes
himself as empty of words and dumb before it. No matter how familiar
one may be with the place from descriptions of it, previously read,
this remains true, just as the Taj Mahal, in India, is to the eye
of each new gazer a dream of beauty. Says one writer: “Karnak is to
Egyptian architecture what the Parthenon is to Greek, the Pantheon to
Roman, and Notre Dame in Paris to Medieval; but it is far grander than
them all.”

Seti’s battles and Seti’s victories have passed away, but Seti’s
temple stands, eternal almost as the mountains. Walls and columns were
decorated with sculptures, begun by the father, finished by the son,
those of Seti on the north, of Rameses on the south wall. Those of
Seti are the finer, and represent the king in his chariot doing battle
with his enemies, while on the columns both monarchs are presenting
offerings to the gods. The statues and the sacred lakes, which formed
part of the temple adjuncts, correspond in size. At the present time
this great temple is spoken of as the greatest ruin in the world, the
crowning triumph of Egyptian art.

The winged disk, symbolizing the victory of Horus over Typhon, was, by
command of the god Thoth, placed over all entrances. At the gate of the
temple of Karnak was a representation of the coronation of Rameses I,
father of a celebrated son and more celebrated grandson. The winter of
1897-8 saw the discovery of the tomb of Osiris, and the god kings Horus
and Set, remains from the time of Seti I.

The name of the architect of the magnificent Hypostile Hall is
preserved, and the Glyptohek in Munich possesses a statute of this
Michael Angelo of his time, as Miss Edwards calls him. An old man with
a beard, in a loose robe, sitting upon the ground, lost in meditation.
High priest and first prophet of Amon under Seti, he became, under
Rameses, the chief architect of the Thebaid, and royally commissioned
to embellish the temples. He was called Bak-en-Khonsu.

The oldest map in existence is said to be that of a gold mine worked
by Seti I, which furnished perhaps some of the means for his great
architectural undertakings, but which was worked to still better
advantage by his son.

Seti I reigned about twenty-seven years, was buried with great honors,
and his memory was kept fresh by the devotion of his son; but Queen
Ti, or Tuaa, though described on the monuments as “royal wife, royal
mother, and heiress and sharer of the throne,” seems to fade out of
sight, perhaps dying before him, and the profile on the wall remains to
us the strongest image of her.

Seven hundred ushebti were said to have been buried with Seti, images
of slaves who were to accompany and wait upon him in the land of
Amenti. A curious little dialogue between master and servants is
preserved. The deceased says, “O ye figures, be ye ever watchful to
work, to plough, to sow the fields, to water the canals and to carry
sand from the east and from the west.” The figures reply, “Here am I
when thou callest.”

Seti’s name is given as “Ra-user-Kheperu-meri-Amen
Seb-Ra-Seti-Mer-en-ptah,” His tomb was discovered by Belzoni in 1817,
and is one of the most beautiful ever found, the sarcophagus, in
which the body was originally placed, being of the finest alabaster,
delicately sculptured both outside and within. This was eventually
purchased by an Englishman and rests in the Sloan Museum. Seti is
spoken of as the “justified,” and hence had successfully passed the
great tribunal to which all the departed were subjected.

But the grave afforded no permanent resting-place for the great
monarch, warrior and builder. His mummy, his veritable self, with
that of his son and many other kings and queens, is in the museum at
Gizeh. Even from these withered remains we can judge that Seti was an
unusually handsome man. The Louvre contains a full-length portrait of
Seti I, cut out bodily from the walls of the sepulchre in the Tombs of
the Kings. Placed in a tomb, from which he was removed to that of Queen
Ansera, for fear of robbers, it was eventually broken into, and after
other like journeys and removals he is now the object of the curious or
interested gaze of the passing traveler. The mummy is said to be one
of the finest ever found, and clearly shows his claim to beauty, even
preserving to a certain degree the expression of his face.

There is a figure of Seti I in the British Museum, and smaller
memorials of him in other collections, among them the Metropolitan
Museum of New York. Of one of the paintings in his tomb, Lady Duff
Gordon says: “The face of the goddess of the Western shore Amenti.
Athar or Hecate is ravishing, and she welcomes the king to her regions;
death was never painted so lovely.” Was it possible that with the
artist’s conception of the goddess might mingle a memory of the dead
Queen Tuaa, with whom her royal spouse had now joined company; we can
but surmise.

Turn we next to the consideration of the wives of that much married
man, Rameses II.




CHAPTER FIFTEENTH.

NOFRITARI-MINIMUT.


With the exception of Cleopatra, one or two Ptolemy queens, Hatasu,
and possibly Nitocris, the history of Egypt which has come down to us
deals principally with the kings, and not with the queens. The latter
are mentioned incidentally, or not at all, though holding a very
different place from the female sovereigns of other Eastern nations,
and the student explorer who endeavors to vitalize these fragmentary
and scattered outlines has not an easy task.

In no case is the above more true than in that of the wife or wives of
Rameses II, the Sesostris of the Greeks who waged tedious wars against
the Hittites, with whom he made peace in the twenty-first year of his
reign, and of whom Herodotus speaks. It is the king whose striking and
heroic figure in childhood, youth and manhood, occupies the foreground
of the canvas, dwarfing into comparative insignificance all who stand
near him, and leaving the details as regards female relationships but
as accessories and background.

[Illustration: NOFRITARI MINIMUT.]

Says an ardent Egyptologist, “One of the handsomest of men, we come in
time to recognize his face, with its haughty beauty, just as we do that
of Henry VIII or Louis XIV.” Curtis speaks thus on the general subject:
“Oriental masculine beauty is so mild and feminine that the men are
like statues of men seen in the most mellowing and azure atmosphere.
The forms of the face have a surprising grace and perfection. They are
not statues and gods so seen, but the budding beauty of the Antinous
when he, too, had been in the soft climate, the ripening rounding lip,
the arched brow, the heavy, drooping lid, the crushed, closed eye, like
a bud bursting with voluptuous beauty, the low broad brow; these I
remember at Asyoot and remember forever.”

Much of this, perhaps, constituted the charm of the youthful Rameses
face, but to it must be added something of the strength and intellect
which were often lacking.

From his mother, Queen Tuaa, Rameses II, of the nineteenth dynasty,
received the heritage of royal ancestry; his father, Seti I, belonged
to a new family, who, in view of descent, had no claim to the throne.
So say most authorities, though some dispute it. As a child, his father
made him co-ruler with himself. An inscription of Rameses II reads, “I
was a boy in his lap,” referring to his father, “and he spoke thus,
‘I will have him crowned as king, for I desire to behold his grandeur
while I am still alive.’” Officers then came forward to place the
crown on his head, and Seti said: “Place the royal circlet on his
brow.” After this ceremony, however, he was still left in the house of
the women and royal concubines, but was put in command of a band of
Amazons, “maidens who wore a harness of leather.” So that soldier and
conqueror though he so early became, his associations from childhood up
were constantly with women, and for the sex in general his subsequent
conduct may lead us to infer he had a special weakness.

Another inscription reads, “when thou wast a boy with the youth locks
of hair, no monument saw the light without thy command, no business
was conducted without thy knowledge.” He laid foundation stones even
in childhood. Little wonder that no prouder monarch ever held sway and
that we associate the idea of unwonted magnificence with him and his
queens.

“Rameses the Great, if he was as much like his portraits as they are
like each other, must have been one of the handsomest men, not only of
his own day, but of all history,” says the enthusiastic Miss Edwards.
There is a bas-relief of him during his first campaign as a beautiful
youth with “a delicate, Dantesque face.” Some years later we see him at
Abydos in the temple of Seti I with a boyish beard. The likeness with
which we become most familiar, in the prime of life, is thus described:
“The face is oval, the eyes are long, prominent and heavy-lidded, the
nose slightly aquiline and characteristically depressed at the tip. The
nostrils are open and sensitive, the under lip projects, the chin is
short and square.”

It seems likely that it was true of Rameses II as is said of the
sailor, that he had a “sweetheart in every port.” No woman could boast
that she alone reigned in his heart. Two, if not three, wives were made
his legal consorts, and he had numerous concubines. The king’s name was
branded on female slaves that they could not escape undiscovered.

Little or nothing is known of the queen’s previous history; she may be
said to have had no childhood or youth as regards our story. As the
wife of Rameses II and the mother of his children she first becomes
known to us. Queen Nofritari seems to have been his earliest consort,
probably his sister or the daughter of some Egyptian noble. One writer,
Pollard, gives authority for considering her the princess who rescued
Moses, the daughter of the king, whom he subsequently married; but as
the king doubtless married in his youth, and she is the first queen
of whom we find record, this seems unlikely. Says the same writer,
speaking of the temple of Luxor, “Rameses the Great, some two hundred
and thirty years afterwards, added another large court, which was
surrounded by a double row of columns; between these are gigantic
statues of this monarch, more or less perfect. One on the left of the
court is very beautiful, in most perfect condition, and represents him
as a young man. The expression of the countenance is very pleasing.
By his side, her head reaching to his knee, stands the diminutive but
beautiful form of his beloved Nefert-ari.”

The queen’s name, as usual, is variously spelled

Nofritari-Minimut, Nefertari, Nofertuit-Meri-en Mut, and Nofruari,
and means, as did that of Queen Nefertari-Aahmes, “good or beautiful
companion.” She shared her honors with a Khi-tan princess, whose brief
story is told in a later chapter, and with another lady, Isis-Nefer.

Rameses II even lies under the suspicion of having married two of his
own daughters, Honuttani and Bint-Antha, the latter whom Baedaker
speaks of as queen under the title of Bint-Anat, and of a small statue
of her standing by the knee of a larger one of Rameses II, of whom he
was known to be especially fond. It is this princess who is made the
heroine of Ebers’ story of “Uarda,” but she is here provided with a
more suitable lover, while Rameses himself is depicted as a more noble
character than is perhaps quite warranted by the historical records. So
true, however, are Professor Ebers’ stories to the ascertained facts
in each case, that, as a rule, they may, serve as admirable historical
studies, quite aside from any merit they may possess as artistic works
of fiction.

Jewish tradition mentions a certain Princess Moeris (which some writers
have believed to be one of Rameses II’s youngest children, the Princess
Meri) as the one who rescued Moses in infancy, as above referred to.

Pictures and inscriptions give the number of Rameses II’s children as
sixty sons and fifty-nine daughters, and one enumeration even reaches
to one hundred and seventy-one children. Some of Rameses’ daughters
were Meri Amun, Beken-Mut, Noferari, Nebtani and Isiemkheb, of whom
Meri-Amun and Neb-tani, in addition to Houttani, and Bint-Antha are
marked as queens in the family list, probably the wives of their
brothers or near relatives.

On the walls of the temple at Deir Champollion found an imperfect list
of these sons and daughters. As a curiosity one may cite the different
dates assigned by historians as the beginning of the reign of Rameses
II: Brugsch, B. C. 1407; Mariette, 1405; Lepsius, 1388; Bunson, 1352,
and Poole, 1283.

Since his son was of the blood royal, it was the policy of Seti I
to unite him with himself, as has been shown, in the government of
the kingdom, thus pacifying all adherents to the old regime, and
Queen Tuaa, from whom Rameses II derived his “blue blood,” appears
in the family group. The attachment between this father and son is
an attractive feature of their joint reigns, and reminds one of the
similar bond between Thothmes I and his daughter Hatasu. In peace and
war Seti and Rameses were ever side by side. Together they governed,
together they took their pleasure and rode forth, each in his royal
chariot, to fight and to conquer.

At Abydos, Karnak and other places are pictures of the prince; in
one of them, adorned with the priestly panther skin, he is pouring
libations on the altar in front of him, while his father holds a
censor; according to these same representations and many inscriptions
in the various temples adorned with his statues, the youthful Rameses
performed prodigies of valor in the field. In the little temple of
Betel-Wali are shown, on the right wall, the victories of Rameses II
over the Libyans and Syrians, and on the left, over the Ethiopians. He
was a “Black Prince” for whom the hand of fate did not lay out a brief
career. The delight of his father’s heart, he lived to assume the full
government and to pay royal honors in that beloved parent.

Like his ancestor Amenophis III, Rameses II seems to have had a passion
for lions, not so much for the sport of hunting them as to train them
for pets or instruments of warfare. Doubtless there was something that
specially ministered to the pride of the haughty monarch in these
favorites, known as the lion has ever been as “the king of beasts,” the
“monarch of the forest,” etc.

Whether the queen shared his partiality we are not told, but since they
were his playthings and his companions, she must have accepted them
in a measure, if with a trembling heart. His favorite lion lay at the
door of the king’s tent and went forth with him to the battlefield,
probably at times even set loose to slay and destroy the enemy. The
wall paintings show the king’s lions in various places.

There is something both attractive and repellant in this figure of
the proud, handsome, vainglorious monarch, in the full vigor of his
manhood, accompanied by this dangerous ally and slave. The tale of the
lion and the mouse, Esop’s well known fable, is said to be of Egyptian
origin, and within the last forty or fifty years many romantic stories
and many love tales of the Egyptians have come to light.

A more modern character, Sir Henry Rawlinson, who wrote much on Egypt
and also a great authority on Persian inscriptions, shared with this
ancient king his taste for barbarous pets. He brought up a young lion
who followed him around like a dog and lay at his feet when he wrote
and studied. He also made such a pet of a leopard that it knew him
after long separation, and displayed pleasure at his presence, when he
visited the Zoological Garden in England, to which he had given it. The
story goes that he put his hand into the cage when the keeper, who did
not know him, exclaimed: “Take your hand out of the cage! The animal is
very savage and will bite you!”

“I don’t think he will bite me,” said Sir Henry, “will you Fahad?”
and the beast answered with a purr and would hardly let the hand be
withdrawn.

Queen Nefritare-Minimut was the first, the chief, and the best beloved,
there seems little question, of the wives of Rameses II, since it is
her picture that appears with that of the king in various places and
she is termed “Beloved Companion.” Maspero gives a picture of her in
her chariot, following the king and says, “Still a young woman with
delicate, regular features already faded and wrinkled under her powder.
Like her husband she wears a long robe, its folds, through the rapid
motion, floating behind her.” There is a large escort and every one
stands in a chariot driven by a groom. This queen was the mother of a
number of children, who, in the temple of Abou Simbel, elsewhere called
Ibsamboul, are grouped with her. We may accord her some charm of beauty
since the monarch of that time selected his wife, not from a list of
foreign princesses of suitable rank, but from among the children of his
own nobles, or relatives, with whose attractions he could become more
readily acquainted. More than one writer speaks of the queen’s figure
being full of grace and her features refined and attractive in her
pictures.

There are two temples at Abou Simbel, translated “Father of the Corn”
or “Father of the Sickle,” excavated in the solid rock. The larger
has statues chiefly of the king, though there are smaller ones of his
mother, wife and some of his children. The smaller, of the queen also
of equal size with her husband, and smaller ones of some of their sons
and daughters. These are the most familiar effigies of Rameses II and
Nofritare-Minimut together, the male figure being full of spirit, the
female of grace. “Rameses, the Strong in Truth, the beloved of Amen,”
says the outer legend, “made this divine abode for his wife, Nefertari,
whom he loves.” Within the words are “his royal wife, who loves him,
Nefertari, the beloved of Maut, constructed for him this abode in the
mountain of Pure Waters.”

Curtis says, “In these faces of Rameses, seven feet long, is a godlike
grandeur and beauty which the Greeks never reached—the mind cannot
escape the feeling that they were conceived by colossal minds. Such
only cherish the idea of repose so profound—their beauty is steeped in
a placid passion that seems passionless. In those earlier days Art was
not content with the grace of Nature, but coped with its proportions.
Vain attempt, but glorious!”

Miss Edwards was present and took part in the discovery of some
portions of this edifice and describes the occurrences and her
sensations with her usual picturesqueness and enthusiasm.

On the inner north wall there is a picture, presumably of Queen
Nofritari, with a blue head-dress and disk, in her right hand the ankh
or life sign and in her left a jackal-headed sceptre. Vases of a blue
color stand on a table of offerings near.

It is at this temple that we know Rameses best, fifteen or twenty years
later than the pictures of him before described. Here, to quote from
the same author, he has “outlived the rage of early youth and become
implacable. God-like serenity, superhuman pride, immutable will breathe
from the stone. He has learned to believe his power irresistible and
himself divine.”

The queen wears the plumes and disk of Hathor and has her daughters
with her. She has much sweetness and grace if not positive beauty.

The colossi are difficult to see but the southernmost may be best
viewed in profile on a sand slope level with the beard. Even the great
cast in the British Museum cannot be well seen. The temple at Abou
Simbel has one hall and many large chambers. The colossi are placed
two to the right and two to left of the door; they are sixty feet high
without the platform and measure across the chest twenty-five feet four
inches. The figures are sealed, but if standing would be eighty-three
feet high. Little dimples giving sweetness to the corners of the
mouth and, tiny depressions in the lobe of the ear, are as large as
saucers. The most southward statue is best preserved. The next statue
is shattered to the waist, the head lying in the sand, at its feet.
The third is nearly perfect. The fourth has lost beard, uraeus and
arms, and has a hole in front. The heads are worked out, the bodies
generalized. The figures are naked to the waist, and clothed below in
the usual striped tunic. They wear the double crown, rich collars,
no sandals or bracelets, and there are holes in the stone which may
have held bronze or gold belts. The cartouches of the king are on his
breast, and arm, having been probably tatooed upon his person. The
statues are executed in a light vein of rock and were, it is likely,
not painted, like those of Siva’s temple in Elephantine, in India.
Above the door is a twenty-foot statue of Ra and on either side a
portrait of the king in bas relief.

The smaller temple has six statues, three on each side of the door,
over thirty feet high, the King and Queen Nofritari. The king is
crowned with the pashent, and uraeus and wears a fantastic helmet,
adorned with plumes and horns. He has some of his sons, she her
daughters with her, ten feet in height, reaching to the knees of their
parents. The names of the royal consorts appear on every pillar and on
every wall, with the statement that affection unites them. The queen is
seen on the facade as the mother of six children and adorned with the
attributes of a goddess. The king is attended by captives of different
nations. The temple seems to have been left unfinished. The larger
temple is within twenty-five yards of the brink of the river, the
smaller within as many feet. They are of different shades of yellow.

In some of the pictures the figures wear pectoral ornaments and a
rich necklace, with alternate vermilion and black drops, and a golden
yellow belt, studded with red and black stones. The throne is on a
blue platform, painted in stripes, red, blue and white. The platform
is decorated with gold colored stars and tan crosses, picked out
with red. Amon-Ra, the god whom they worship, is here represented
with a blue-black complexion, a corselet of gold chain, armor, and a
head-dress of towering plumes. On the altar is a blue lotus with a red
stalk, and a vessel with a spout like a coffee pot. There are as many
varieties of this god in Egypt as of the Madonna in Italy and Spain.

An earthquake in the time of Rameses II may have accounted for the
partial overthrow of the statues on the outside of the temple. The cast
of a stele in the Louvre states that Rameses II made artesian wells in
the desert.

In one of the pictures of the queen she advances with two sistra, the
sacred instrument introduced in the Fourth Dynasty, time of Mertytefs.
This consists of a frame, somewhat oval in shape, with bars across,
strung with rings, which slipped up and down. We can fancy the music
produced to be rather Chinese in character and not such as would appeal
to Western ears as charming. The priestess of the god was the “divine
wife,” or the “divine handmaid,” a position of great honor, even for
the queen. The handle of the sistrum in the oldest times was always
cow-eared and ornamented with the head of Hathor, the Egyptian Venus.

One of the goddesses to whom the queen is paying honor is Ta-ur-t, who
has the face of a woman on the body of a hippopotamus. She wears a wig,
and a robe of state with five capes, described as a cross between that
of a Lord Chancellor and a coachman. Behind the goddess stand the gods
Thoth and Nut.

Thebes was no doubt the chief residence of Queen Nofritari, Tunis that
of the Khitan Princess; the king’s enormous domestic establishments
probably being in different places. There is a story, who can tell
whether it be founded on fact? that the king and queen, by the
treacherous dealing of one of the king’s relatives, were shut up in
a certain city which was then set on fire, the intriguer doubtless
intending to usurp the throne, and that at the queen’s suggestion some
of the king’s sons formed their bodies into a bridge by which he might
escape, some of them suffering death in consequence.

The great Thebes is said to have been as large as London. On the
Eastern bank, the Arabian side of the Nile, stand Karnak and Luxor. On
the western or Lybian bank, Goornah, the Rameseum and Medinet Haboo.
The Rameseum, a palace and temple combined, faces about half way
between Karnak and Luxor. Medinet Haboo is further to the south than
any building on the east side of the river. Behind the western group
is the great Theban Metropolis, along the Lybian range, further back
in radiating valleys, are the Tombs of the Kings. Between Karnak and
Luxor is a little less than two miles, from Medinet Haboo to Goornah
something under four.

The prostrate statue of Rameses II, near Memphis, so long covered
with Nile mud, repeats the lineaments of the Abou Simbel statue.
This colossus kept vigil at the gate of the temple and is serene
and dignified, even in its overthrow; it is of Syenite and probably
stood in front of the temple of Ptah, mentioned both by Herodotus and
Diodorus. Says a poetic writer, “I fancy the repose of that court in
a Theban sunset, the windless stillness of the air, and cloudlessness
of the sky. The king enters, thoughtfully pacing by the calm browed
statue, that seems the sentinel of heaven. In the presence of the
majestic columns, humanly carved, their hands sedately folded upon
their breasts—his weary soul is bathed with peace, as a weary body with
living water.” This statue is one of the most pleasing of the many
likenesses of Rameses II, and a cast of it has been taken. Mariette
said “the head modelled with a grandeur of style which one never tires
of admiring, is an authentic portrait of the celebrated conqueror of
the Nineteenth Dynasty.”

The pre-nomen of Rameses II was “Ra-usr-mat-setep-en-Ra,” “Sun strong
in Truth, approved of the Sun, son of the Sun, Beloved of Amon.” The
foot is eleven feet by four feet ten inches, and on the peristyle is
inscribed, “I am Osymandies, King of Kings. If any would know how great
I am and where I lie, let him excel me in any of my works.”

The passion for building, characteristic of many Egyptian kings, was
specially strong in the father and son, Seti I and Rameses II, and the
latter completed many structures begun by the former. To Seti I are
credited the grand temple of Osiris at Abydos, the temple and palace
of Karnak at Thebes, and his tomb, which is said to excel those of the
other Theban kings in its sculpture, colored decorations and alabaster
sarcophagi. But his Hypostyle Hall at Karnak exceeds them all.

To Rameses II are credited many architectural works along the Nile,
from the Delta to the capital of Ethiopia. The list comprises the
splendid rock temples at Abou Simbel, in Nubia, just described, the
Rammesium or Memnonium, called by Diodorus “the tomb of Osymandius,” on
the walls of which are sculptured the story of Rameses’ reign, large
portions of the temple palaces of Karnak and Luxor, before which last
stands the column whose mate is now in the Place de la Concorde in
Paris, a small temple at Abydos, and various works in the Fayum, at
Memphis and at Tunis, of which last he was especially fond. In nothing
apparently did he take more delight than in erecting gigantic statues
of himself.

To accomplish these great architectural designs required an immense
army of workmen and no monarch was more ruthless in his expenditure of
human life. Some have believed that to this period belongs in large
part the slavery of the Hebrews, whose cries reached the very ears of
Heaven and it is said that he deported whole tribes to accomplish his
purposes. History repeats itself; as in the earlier reigns, during
the structure of the pyramids, and Queen Nofritari Minimut, like
Queen Mertytefs, must have witnessed much suffering and viewed it
perhaps with a like indifference. Proud of her husband’s deeds and
accomplishments, what mattered the cost of such monuments. Of little
more value than an insect’s life was that of the innumerable slaves
that bowed, trembled and toiled at the great monarch’s command. We can
believe that the sound of the taskmaster’s whip woke no echo of pity in
that haughty breast. Devotion to the gods, exultation in her husband,
more or less passionate devotion to her children, these left no room
for the consideration of the life and sorrows of a slave.

    “By the Nile the sacred river
    I can see the captive hordes
    Bend beneath the lash and quiver
    At the long papyrus cords;
    While in granite wrapt and solemn
    Rising over roof and column
    Amen-Hotep dreams or Rameses,
    Lord of Lords.”

So the curtain drops over the queen in the zenith of her powers, and we
hear the tinkle of her sistrum, faintly, faintly down the centuries.
Priestess, queen, wife, mother, statue, shadow—thus she stands smiling
stonily, yet sweetly, on succeeding ages. Rich in this world’s goods,
beloved of Heaven. Yet did she, too, exclaim with Solomon, “Vanity of
vanities, all is vanity!” Who can tell?




CHAPTER SIXTEENTH.

UR-MAA-NOFRU-RA.


The many wived Rameses II, if so he was, did not adopt Blue Beard’s
plan of despatching one before he espoused another, but merely set
up separate establishments for each, and so preserved the peace. The
king could do no wrong in those days, his divine right never being
questioned, and it may be doubted whether the first wife was surprised
at, or even objected to, the arrangement. It was an early form of
Mormonism and accepted without protest.

While Queen Nofritari-Minimut was, there is little question, first
and chief wife, and probably had been so for many years, and also
the mother of a number of children, the Keetan princess, and perhaps
others, shared the honor of being legal consort.

We know little about the marriage ceremonials of the Egyptians,
compared to our very full knowledge of their funeral rites, but a late
writer thus describes a wedding which may in part resemble that used by
the kings. “At the temple the people remained outside the walls, while
the bride and groom, the pharaoh and dignitaries, entered the hall of
columns. There Hebron (the bride) burned incense before the veiled
statue of Amon, priestesses performed a sacred dance and Tutmosis (the
groom) read the following act from a papyrus:

“‘I, Tutmosis, commander of the guard of his holiness Rameses XIII,
take thee, Hebron, daughter of Antefa, the monarch of Thebes, to wife,
as wife—I give thee now the sum of ten talents, because thou hast
consented to marry me. For thy robes I designate to thee three talents
yearly, and for household expenses one talent a month. Of the children
which we may have the eldest son will be heir to the property, which I
possess now, and which I may acquire hereafter, if I should not live
with thee, but divorce myself and take another wife, I shall be obliged
to pay thee forty talents, which sum I secure with my property. Our son
on receiving his estate is to pay thee fifteen talents yearly. Children
of another wife are to have no right to the property of our first-born
son.’

“The chief judge appeared now and read an act in which the bride
promised to give good food and raiment to her husband, to care for his
house, family, servants, slaves and cattle, and to entrust to that
husband the management of the property which she had received, or would
receive, from her father.

“After the facts were read Herhor gave Tutmosis a goblet of wine. The
bridegroom drank half, the bride moistened her lips with it, and then
both burned incense before the purple curtain.

“Leaving the temple of Amon the young couple and their splendid retinue
passed through the avenue of sphinxes, to the pharaoh’s palace. Crowds
of people and warriors greeted them with shouts, scattering flowers on
their pathway.”

The experience of this same Khitan or Chetan princess, who adopted the
name of Ur-maa-nofru-ra, or, as given in other places, Noferura-Urmda
and Ra-maa-nofre, “Sun, Truth, Beautiful exceedingly,” reminds one of
that of Maria Louisa of Austria, who became the wife of Napoleon First
of France. The father of each had to bow the neck to the conqueror, the
daughter became in a sense the hostage, she paid the penalty of defeat.
There could not but have been a sense of bitterness at such a fate, in
which love could have had no share. How far did ambition, the feeling
of being the wife of the greatest monarch of the then known world,
satisfy the empty heart?

Among Rameses II’s numerous children his favorites are known to have
been his son, Khamus, and his daughter, Bint-Antha, both perhaps the
children of Nofritari-Minimut, though one writer gives Isemofer,
probably not a legal consort, as the mother of Khamus. We do not
know the names of the children of the Khitan princess or even if she
had any. A picture of a number of his sons and daughters, with names
attached, the sons with fans, the daughters with sistra, is between
Elephantine and Abou Simbel.

Among the pictures of his children are those of the Ramessium at
Thebes, where Khamus, his favorite son, is represented in a battle.
There are two processions of his children and in one, two princesses.
The eldest son of the Pharaoh was called “Prince of Cush,” as the
eldest son of the king of England is now called “Prince of Wales.”

“Sutem-hemt” was the royal wife, “Sutem-Mut,” the royal mother, as
such in the prime of life we see Queen Nofritari-Minimut. Queen
Urm-maa-nofru-ra appears only in her beautiful youth, as the bride;
she herself, says one inscription, “knew not the impression her beauty
made on the heart of the king.” In a novel founded on this part of
Egyptian history a queen is thus described, “her eyes were the color
of her hair, a rich sunny brown, like Syriac women of Damascus. On
her head the double diadem of Thebes and Memphis, the inner crown a
graceful conical bonnet of white silk, terminating in a knob like a
pomegranite bud. Outside a rich band of gold and lined with red silk;
red, the special color of Lower, as white was of Upper Egypt; this was
open at the top and worn over the other. Then a necklace of precious
stones, with a clasp of a vulture, his neck encircled by an asp, emblem
of the goddess, Maut. She wore a white vestment of gauzy Persian silk,
enriched with gold and blue needlework below the waist, and secured by
a girdle blazing with diamonds. A long royal robe from the Damascus
looms descended to her feet.” Some such outline perhaps conveys an idea
of the new queen. Not an exact portrait, but a mere suggestion, helpful
in filling in our mosaic.

Beautiful we may believe her to have been, and much the junior of
the man she must needs accept for a husband. She was never allowed
to forget the cost at which her honors were bought, however; on many
walls of temples and perhaps palaces also, the painted record stared
her in the face. Yet did the conqueror regard his adversary, Khitazar
or Khitasar, king or prince of the Khitans (by some believed to be
the Hittites of the Scriptures or, accord to others, the Aramaeans),
as no mean foe and the compact of peace between them, which was
engraved on a silver tablet, was honorable to both. King Khitazar
seems to have inspired Rameses II with more respect than some of his
adversaries, on whom he looked down with the utmost contempt. It is
said that he refused an offer of marriage for one of his daughters
from a Mesopotamian prince or king, stating that he would not give his
daughter to a “nobody.”

The vanquished Kitazar offered his daughter to the victor, who accepted
this marriage as a means of cementing the alliance between them.
Rameses had married Nofritari-Minimut, who is spoken of as the “great
princess, of every grace in her heart, the beloved palm, mistress of
both lands, beloved of the king and united with the ruler,” before the
death of his father, Seti I, Ur-maa-nofru-ra years after. The queen’s
establishments were far apart, probably they seldom or never met, but
doubtless Queen Nofritari-Minimut held proudly to her position as first
consort. Both queens must have had some acquaintance with the king’s
singular and dangerous pet, the lion, who fought with him in his battle
against the Khita, one of which is named in the picture in which he
accompanied the king, “Smaru-khef-tu-f,” “the tearer in pieces.”

According to most authorities the marriage of Rameses II and
Ur-maa-nofru-ra took place in the fifth year of the king’s sole reign.
Near the temple of Abou-Simbel there is a passage in the rocks, where
there is a picture of Rameses II, sitting under a canopy, between two
gods, while before him appears the Khitan princess, followed by her
father, Kitazar, in the dress of his country. The princess’ name is
enclosed with that of Rameses II in a royal cartouche, which shows her
to have been his legal consort. The stele celebrating this event was
probably put up in the 34th year of his reign, a number of years after
the marriage.

Perhaps the most ancient international treaty in the world, which
differs little from those of modern times, is this concordat
established between Rameses II and Kitazar, which was intended to put
an end to the wars between the Egyptians and Asiatics. On the side
wall of the temple of Amon at Karnak it is given in an inscription. It
is dated 21st Tybi, in 21st year of Rameses II Miamun, in the town of
Tanis and was engraved on a silver tablet and brought by ambassadors
of peace. After speaking of the fact that there had been peace between
their ancestors at one time, it goes on to say, “Khetasar, prince of
the Khita, unites with Rameses Miamun, the mighty king of Egypt, to
cause to exist between them good peace and good alliance, from this
time on forever. He shall be allied with me, he shall be at peace with
me. And I, I shall be allied with him, and I, I shall be at peace
with him forever.” Many pictures of the battles which preceded this
agreement of peace are also to be seen on the temple walls.

Rameses II’s reign was also something of an Elizabethan age in Egyptian
literature. A number of old works on papyrus have been found, left by
a galaxy of Theban writers. History, divinity, practical philosophy,
poetry and tales are among them. A list of temple scribes is given,
naming Bek-en-tah, Qu-ge-bu, Hor Anna, Mer-Em-aput, Amen-em-api,
Pan and Pentaur. The victorious campaign of Rameses II against the
Ethiopians is described by Herodotus, who perhaps derived his authority
from some of these sources. Pentaur, sometimes spoken of as the
jovial poet, was easily laureate of this reign. In high, joyful, but
martial strains, he celebrated, in heroic verse, the achievements
of his master. He glorifies his every deed and makes him a demi-god
rather than a man. Again and again Rameses II had Pentaur’s poem, the
so-called Iliad of the Egyptians, inscribed on the temple walls. To the
east of the southern door, near the great Hall of Columns at Karnak,
the poem is to be found. At Abydos, Luxor, Karnak, the Ramessium, on
the inner face of the pylon at the Ramessium, and at the Memnonium or
tomb of Osymandeus and Abou-Simbel the same familiar scene of Rameses
fighting alone is pictured or described. The king is shown in a chariot
with prancing horses, and again on a throne with the inscription,
“Victory for Thebes.” Four of these copies of the poem are perfect, at
Abydos, Luxor and Abou-Simbel, a fifth, without illustration, is on the
wall of the temple of Karnak and a fragment at the temple of Deir in
Nubia.

“Where art thou, O father Amon!” prays the king, “Does a father forsake
his son? Not one of my generals, not one of my captains is with me.”
“I hasten to thine aid, O Rameses, my son, beloved of Amon,” answers
the god and singly and alone enables him to perform prodigies of valor.
“My soldiers have abandoned me, my horsemen have fled,” cries the king.
“I am more to thee than hundreds of thousands,” comes the response and
again, “the youthful king with his bold hand has not his equal. His
arms are powerful, his heart is firm. His courage is like that of the
god of war.” Again the king speaks. “The diadem of the royal snake
adorns my head. It spits fire and glowing flame in the face of my
enemies. They cried out to one another, ‘Take care! Do not fall, for
the powerful snake of royalty has placed itself on his horse.’” The
great temple of Abou-Simbel is said by some to have been made in honor
of his first victory over the Khitans, years before his marriage with
the princess. “The freshness of the statues there,” says Curtis, “is
startling. It is sublime.”

All these laudations gratified the king’s pride, for the little queen
there must have been in it all something of a trial. But it was not a
time distinguished for consideration of the feelings of others. For her
the old life was probably closed; there was not likely to have been
much intercourse, merely for her pleasure, between her and her family.
For purposes of war, and perhaps for hunting, they went far afield,
but we can well believe that few trips to a distance, solely for the
pleasure of the ladies, were undertaken.

Innumerable are the pictures and statues of Rameses II. Alone, with
Queen Nofritare-Minimut and his sons and daughters, and in one or two
places with his wife, the Khitan princess. At Gibel Silsileh, on a
tablet, is a picture of the king, Queen Nofritari Minimut, Queen Tuaa
or Ti, the king’s mother, and the princess Bint-antha, all appear in a
bas-relief. Again the king appears before the gods Ptah and Nefertum.
A stele in the third year of the reign of Rameses II gives the route
to the gold mines which Rameses had worked. In the rock temple of Gerf
Husen the king appears as a founder and god to be worshipped. In the
half rock temple of Sebuah is a large statue of him. At the temple of
Deir there is another picture of him. On the stele of a certain General
Amenti, near Abou-Simbel appears Prince Seti, named, of course, for the
father of Rameses II, the king’s mother and the Princess Bint Antha.
There are, or were, enormous statues of the king at Karnak, Tanis, and
elsewhere.

To the British Museum and other places in Europe some of these statues
have been removed, and among those in this country may be named one in
the museum of the University of Pennsylvania. In the museum of Gizeh is
a red granite figure of Rameses II, life size, as a youth, at eighteen
or twenty, crowned with an elaborate Osirian helmet, issuing from a
diadem, encircled by uraei; this known as the atef-crown.

The Hebrews, some believe to have been the slaves who built for Rameses
II the treasure cities of Pithon and Rameses, the Pa-Tum and Pa-Rameses
of the inscriptions, and bricks made with stubble, or no straw, have
been found, confirming, it is thought, the Bible record. The Egyptian
kings, bent on leaving behind them such mammoth structures, all worked
with a reckless expenditure of the lives of their slaves and captives.

Some of the pictures on tombs give representations of conquered
peoples, such as the brown and coal black people of the Soudan, their
princess in a chariot drawn by oxen and shaded by an umbrella, her
attendants with feathers in their hair and a kind of hood, like that
worn by some wild tribes in the present day.

Rameses II instituted several festivals, among which may be mentioned
that of the Nile and that of Seknet and the goddess Bast at Bubastis,
where joyous and licentious festivals, like those of Hathor, at
Denderah, were held. At the former festival the king was seated on
a throne, borne by twelve nobles, adorned with feathers, the throne
having the back and feet of a lion. The king wore a war helmet and
carried a staff. Behind were the court officials, warding off the
sun’s rays, with the long-handled flabellium, while the lower order of
priests, the Kherheb, carried and swung censors of incense. Trains of
captives followed and the king was hailed as “Rameses Miamun, who loves
the Nile, the father of the gods, his creator.”

As the Nile rose lights were lighted like beacon fires at different
points, till the whole country was a blaze of joyful illumination. To
the inhabitants the rising of the Nile meant in great degree life,
health and happiness. A hymn sung to celebrate this desired event is
vouched for by Glovatski, who has evidently made a close study of
his subject, as authentic. “Be greeted, O Nile, sacred river, which
appearest on this country! Thou comest in peace to give life to Egypt.
O hidden deity, who scatterest darkness, who moistenest the fields to
bring food to dumb animals, O thou precious one, descending from heaven
to give drink to the earth, O friend of bread, thou who gladdenest our
cottages! Thou art the master of fishes; when thou art in our fields
no bird dares touch the harvest. Thou art the creator of grain and the
parent of barley; thou givest rest to the hands of millions of the
unfortunate and for ages thou securest the sanctuary.” In some such
words as these rose to the blue heavens the praise and acclaim of the
grateful people.

In the month Paofi, the second half of July, the waters are rising as
much as two hands a day, so that the waves in a continuous murmur may
be heard plashing over soil dry in the morning, while the color changes
from greenish white to a ruddy tint. Then growing darker, as in the
month Hator, including part of August, it has reached half its height,
and where men previously walked they now travel in boats from the
middle of September to the middle of October, the month Cheoeak, the
waters at their height began to fall, while trees blossomed a second
time, and fruits were gathered in the gardens. For the next month,
Tobi, the waters would continue to fall disclosing more and more of the
rich and fructified earth. While the winter season, the most delightful
in Egypt, was beginning, the heat rarely going beyond 70 Fahrenheit.
As the month Mechir advanced more and more land appeared and flowers
of varied hue sprang up amid the emerald green of the fresh grass. By
Phaenoth, part of December, and January, the whole land was abloom. No
wonder the heavens rang with the acclaim of the people who witnessed
this daily miracle.

Bubastis was the goddess Aphrodite of foreigners, represented with the
head of a lion or cat. The cat was sacred to this goddess and said to
have honorable burial here. Indeed a regular cat cemetery, filled with
the remains of mummied felines, has been found. The feast was held at
what corresponds to our Christmas time, and Herodotus thus describes
it. “When the Egyptians travel to Bubastis they do it in this manner.
Men and women sail together and in each boat there are many persons of
both sexes. Some of the women make a noise with rattles and some blow
pipes during the whole journey, while the other men and women sing
and clap their hands. If they pass a town on the way they lay to and
some of the women land and shout and mock at the women of the place,
while others dance and make a disturbance. They do this at every town
that lies on the Nile and when they arrive at Bubastis they begin
the festival with great sacrifices and on this occasion more wine is
consumed than during the whole of the rest of the year. All the people
of both sexes, except children, make a pilgrimage thither, 700,000
persons in all, as the Egyptians assert.” In these festivals both
queens probably, separately or together, took a share.

Amen-Ra was the patron deity of Rameses II, but he also paid homage
to Sutech in honor probably to his Khitan wife, as this was chiefly
confined to Tanis, where we may believe Ur-maa-nofru-ra resided. The
god is represented with the head-dress of a Khitan prince. Whatever
travelling she may have done, whatever her experiences, Tanis was home
to this queen, while the city grew in magnificence and she watched the
erection of a grand temple to the god of her fathers, some proof at
least that she held a high place in Rameses’ affection and regard.

The name Thebes is of Greek origin, as are many of the Egyptian places,
our knowledge of the country being in so large a part derived from the
Greeks. Tanis also was so named by the Greeks. This formerly great
city, of which now only mounds, ruins, etc., remain, was variously
known as Tanis, Zoan, or San, the last of Arab designation. It is
believed by some authorities to be the Zoan of the Bible, where the
miracles were performed. Its history is now told by broken statues,
mounds, tombs and hieroglyphics. Scarcely one stone remains upon
another. It is in the Delta of the Nile and is called in some of the
inscriptions, “The Place of the Leg,” “The Winged Disk of the North,”
and “The Cradle of Lower Egypt.” It was an old city when Rameses II
occupied and embellished it. He never hesitated to pull down and use
the materials with which his predecessors had builded, nor to smooth
out their cartouches and replace them with his own. Why should he, the
greatest monarch the world had ever known, as he doubtless thought
himself, shrink from taking his full rights or even obliterating the
name and fame of some more insignificant ancestor. And devoted as
he seemed to have been to his father’s memory, he even did the like
occasionally with his father’s signature.

The monumental history of Tanis, it is said, begins with the Twelfth
Dynasty, a fine broken statue of Amenemhat I having been found. Then
follow memorials of later times. Superb statues of the Hyksos period
have also been discovered. Of the work of Rameses II it is quoted
that “he found the place given over to the abomination of desolation,
he left it one of the most magnificent of Egyptian cities.” For this
purpose he laid all Egypt under contribution, red granite and black
from Syene, and the Valley of Hammamat, sandstone and limestone from
Silsilis and Toorah. His great temples to the gods were but as the
parchment on which he inscribed the story of his own victories. It was
the spirit of the Pharisee which said, ‘I am not as other men are.’

Wars and fires at different times have done much to obliterate Tanis
and its records as well as to destroy all traces of it. Mr. Petrie,
who, like many archeologists, spares neither strength nor effort to
bring to light the history of the past, with the true lover’s fervency
in his favorite pursuit, which is to be a gain not to himself, but to
the world, and Miss Edwards, who to a close study of the old ruins and
remains, adds a charming power of picturesque description, have both
told much of Tanis. We condense their accounts of the city at this past
era. The Nile was alive with vessels, the banks bordered with towns and
villas, the land beyond occupied by villages. The great temple, which
looked like a fortress, was half a mile from the shore, and approached
by a fine road, in part bordered by sphinxes and the city entered by a
massive gateway. Gigantic statues of the king alternated with sphinxes,
the last statue being fourteen times the size of a man. There was a
grand avenue bordered by columns, thirty-six feet in height. Pylons,
statues, obelisks, a very forest of them—the tribute of the previous
centuries, many of them, to the present king. Through these passed
many processions, the king, his son and officials, his warriors and
his captives. He, with the double crown on his head, and glittering
with jewels, the leopard skin over his shoulders, to be received by the
priests, with divine honors, amid the plaudits and adulation of the
people. All to the sound of the harp and flute, cimbals and sistrum.
The queen doubtless looking, from some gorgeously decorated point of
vantage when she did not personally share in the pageant.

This was the home of the young queen, these the magnificent sights to
which her eyes were accustomed. Parts of private letters on parchment
and on pottery have been found, telling familiarly of the feasts and
festivals, the expenses and the daily incidents of the life of this
period. And the love stories and other fragments of fiction which have,
come down to us also give their share of local color.

The last forty-six years of Rameses II’s long reign (which is said
to have lasted sixty-seven) were peaceful, and says one author, “It
became his passion and his pride to found new cities, to raise dykes,
to dig canals, to build fortresses, to multiply statues, obelisks and
inscriptions, and to erect the most costly temples in which man ever
worshipped.”

His eldest sons appear to have died before him, or been passed over in
the succession, for it was his thirteenth son, Meremptah, who shared
his authority and eventually succeeded him. He is believed to have
been the Pharaoh of the Exodus, as Rameses II of the oppression of the
Israelites.

In strange contrast to the life of Rameses II was the disposition of
his body after death; there is a story told of the mummy of one of
the Pharaohs, that in order to obtain entrance into Cairo, with his
prize, Bruch Bey was obliged to pay octroi duty on “dead fish,” as the
officials refused to admit it free of duty and the register contained
no directions as to mummies. Doubtless Rameses II received magnificent
burial, but in later reigns many royal tombs were rifled and his
among them; the empty tomb now remains, but only filled with rubbish,
the body of the king, with those of many others, being removed.
Inscriptions record that this occurred more than once. In the sixteenth
year of the reign of Pinotem I it was placed in the tomb of Amenophis
I, so that even in death sometimes “uneasy lies the head that wears a
crown.” It is said that in 1880 his mummy was offered for sale to an
American gentleman, who, doubting its genuineness, refused to purchase.

In 1881 the wonderful discovery of the shaft containing so many royal
mummies was made, and their removal to the museum of Gizeh is thus
described, “Already it was known, far and wide, that these kings and
queens of ancient times were being conveyed to Cairo, and for more
than fifty miles below Thebes the villages turned out en masse, not
merely to stare at the piled decks, as the steamer went by, but to
show respect to the illustrious dead. Women, running along the banks
and shrieking the death wail; men, ranged in solemn silence and firing
their guns in the air, greeted the Pharaohs as they passed.”

And so after change of burial place and even of coffin, one of the most
celebrated of human monarchs lies in a museum, for the inspection of
every careless passerby; a strong commentary on human greatness and
human pride.

The mummy was unrolled, by Maspero, June, 1886, and was found to be
five feet six inches in length. The head was small and long; the hair,
apparently white at the time of death, was made yellow with drugs; the
forehead, low and narrow; the eyebrows, arched and bushy; the eyes,
small and close to the thin-hooked nose; the temples were hollow,
the cheek bones prominent and the ears wearing rings were round. The
expression he calls intelligent, but slightly sensual, proud, obstinate
and majestic, even in death.

And what of Queen Urmaa-nofrura? As the bride alone, young and fair,
she comes before us, and we find no record of her further history,
or of her death. Was it in her power, as in that of the fair Queen
Esther of Scripture, to do aught for the people of her native land or
to influence in any way for good the haughty sovereign to whom she was
allied? Perhaps, and perhaps only.




CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH.

TAUSERT.


As Queen Urma-nofru-Ra may be considered the bride of life, so we
may call Queen Tausert the bride of the tomb, since it is from her
tomb alone that we learn anything of her history, and even there the
information is most meagre. Her name is mentioned as Ta-ursr, Tauser,
Tausert or Taosiri, and it makes her somewhat distinctive among the
various Neferts and Tis. She is called “the great queen and the lady of
the land, the princess of Upper and Lower Egypt.”

She is noteworthy chiefly as being of the blood royal and thus
conferring dignity upon her husband, Siptah, or Si-Ptah, her name
taking precedence of his on the monuments, as did that of Queen Ti,
wife of Seti I. Also she was the last queen of the great Nineteenth
Dynasty, of which Seti I and Rameses II were such renounced monarchs,
and of whose queens Ti, Nofritari Mini-mut and Urma-nofru-Ra we have
already given outline sketches. To this Dynasty, called Diospolites,
Lepsius gives the date beginning 1443 B. C., and Wilkinson 1340 B. C.,
and one division makes it the Middle Empire.

The earliest Egyptian monarchs of whom we have any record built for
themselves tombs which seemed destined to last till eternity, the
Pyramids, which some one has finely described as “stony tents where
innumerable centuries have encamped, which time in vain seeks to drive
from the field,” and which seem more like Druidical remains than
specimens of architecture.

Says Lady Duff Gordon, in her charming “Letters:” “There is such a
curious sight of a crowd of men carrying huge blocks of stone up out
of a boat. One sees exactly how the stones were carried in ancient
times; they sway their bodies all together like one great lithe animal,
with many legs, and hum a low chant to keep time. It is quite unlike
carrying heavy weights in Europe.”

Later kings spent their energies differently. They built palaces and
temples and chose to be buried in caverns in the natural rocks through
which they honeycombed innumerable passages, hewed out great halls, or
constructed pits in which their mortal remains could be hidden from the
light of day.

Rameses II lived to a ripe old age, his wives perhaps dying before
him, as many of his children certainly did. Of their lives we know
little, of their death nothing. The sacred books say of one Pharaoh,
perhaps of Rameses II, that in heaven he will, at his pleasure, take
wives from their husbands, so idolatrous was the worship accorded to
these haughty, and often tyrannical kings. Seti I had, as we have
seen, in early years united his son, Rameses, with himself in the
government of his kingdom, and Rameses II adopted the same plan,
making his thirteenth son, Meremptah, co-ruler, with himself. In the
government of the kingdom. The elder sons, of whom Khamus is known to
have been an especial favorite of his father (as was Bint-Antha among
the daughters), died before him, or there was some other reason which
prevented their following in natural succession. The consensus of
opinion seems to be that Rameses II was the oppressor of the Hebrews,
and Meneptah the monarch from whom they escaped.

The Israelites are believed to have toiled on the temples, palaces
and other architectural works at Tanis, and on the treasure city
of Paten or Pithom. They are mentioned in a triumphal inscription,
found by Petrie, near the temple of Medinet Aboo, opposite Thebes. It
was engraved on an old slab, originally polished, inscribed and put
in place in a temple, by Amen-hotep III, which Meremptah, with the
ruthlessness of many of the kings, took and also inscribed on the back,
or rougher side, to glorify himself. Part of it reads, “The Hittites
are quieted. Taken is Askelon. The Israelites are

(Transcriber’s Note: A line (or more) seems to be missing here from the
original.)

tions, who had invaded Egypt. Petrie also found, among the ruins of
a funeral temple at Thebes, a bust of this king, in grey granite,
which has “a firm and rather dogged expression, not untinged with
melancholy.” The wife of Meremptah is given as Ast-Nefert or Isis
Nefert, but of her personal history we know nothing. The mummy of a
certain Queen Anhipu, said to belong to the Nineteenth Dynasty, was
found, but no details of her life.

Amenmesses “Mighty Bull, beloved of Maat,” is, by some authorities,
said to have usurped the throne after Meremptah; his mother is given as
Taak Taakhat, “divine mother, royal mother, great Lady,” and his wife
as “royal spouse, the great one, lady of the two lands.” He built a
tomb in the Valley of the Kings, and he, with his mother and wife, are
buried there. It has three corridors and two chambers, and in one his
mother and in another his wife are making offerings to the gods.

Another list commonly given is as follows, Rameses II, then Meremptah,
Seti II, his grandson, and Siptah, his great-grandson, perhaps by
marriage. Reproductions of the pictures of Seti II and Siptah are
given in Petrie’s articles, in Miss Edward’s “Pharaohs, Fellahs and
Explorers,” as well doubtless as in other places, and she claims for
each of them the distinctive features of the Rammeside family, long
heads, long noses, long bodies and long legs. Photographs have been
taken of Siptah and others from the bas-reliefs in the Valley of the
Tombs of the Kings, at Thebes. Ebers, in his romance of “Joshua,”
mentions Siptah as the nephew of Meremptah and as intriguing to
supplant him.

Queen Tausert’s husband is elsewhere spoken of as Meremptah Siptah, the
son of an usurper, giving color to the idea that it was she and not he
who was the descendant of Rameses II. Among ordinary people the tomb
was often prepared for husband and wife together, and occasionally the
mummy of the first who died was kept in the house till the death of the
second, a constant suggestion that they might soon be reunited, and in
pictures they are often betrayed with the arm of one around the neck
or waist of the other, showing that affectionate relations were usual.
Death and the future life appear to have occupied so large a share in
the thoughts of the ancients that their daily life was a sort of Appian
Way, lined with tombs, and we know much more of their funerals than of
their marriages and other festivities.

The Egyptians were among the earliest, if not the earliest nation to
regard literature, to write books (the inscribed papyrus roll being
their printed page, to be handed down to posterity) and to preserve and
value them.

The Book of the Dead, of which sections belonging to different
periods have been found, was a sort of Bible, for which the Egyptians
entertained the most profound respect and whose maxims they seem to
have used, both as a guide in life and in their preparation of the dead
for the tomb. The papyrus containing the tale of “The Two Brothers,” in
which the younger was unjustly accused of wrongdoing towards his elder
brother’s wife, bears some resemblance to the Bible story of Joseph’s
experiences, and belongs to the period of Seti II.

Diodorus speaks of a sacred library which he said was inscribed
“Dispensary of the Mind,” and belonged to the period of Rameses III;
some ruins believed to have been this building have been found. There
was a great hall and several smaller rooms, supported by columns. “On
the jamb of one of the smaller rooms,” says Kendrick, “was sculptured
Thoth, the inventor of Letters, and the goddess Saf, his companion,
with the title of ‘Lady of Letters and President of the Hall of Books,’
accompanied, the former with an emblem of the sense of sight, the
latter with that of hearing.”

Treaties with foreign nations were often inscribed, like that of
Rameses II and the father of Queen Urma-nofrura, on tablets of silver
or other metal, while accounts, letters and more trivial matters, were
written on pottery, fragments of which have come down to our own day.
In these times, or even earlier, the Greeks made their way into Egypt,
and through them, as well as from the monuments, we have derived much
of our knowledge of the Egyptians.

A late writer on Egypt, Isaac Meyer, draws a parallel between
Christianity and the old Egyptian religion, and advances a theory, more
ingenious than reliable, that Christ may have been in Egypt later than
in his infancy. The “Book of the Dead,” said to be the great storehouse
of Egyptian theology, shows refined and ethical ideas. Horus, the
sun-god, the victorious of the resurrection from the dead to eternal
life, is found chief among the deities there represented, wearing the
Osirian crown, and with an endless serpent, symbolic of eternity.
Chapters of this book were found in isolated places, and at different
times, “a collection of preceptus and maxims on the conduct of life.”
Many had fragments of the revered volume buried beside them or engraved
on scarabeii as ornaments and decorations. In later times than those
which we are now considering the mummy of a young girl was found, with
part of Homer in her coffin, having in life probably been devoted to
his poetry.

Some archeologists and students see traces of original monotheism
in the religion of the Egyptians, one central idea of deity perhaps
under many forms, but the idea is not supported by general testimony.
“Deities,” says one writer, “were merged into one another, qualities of
one were attributed to another till the pantheon resembled the shifting
pictures of the kaleidoscope.”

Some of the Egyptian precepts and maxims are not without their value in
modern times, such as “If thou humblest thyself in obeying a superior,
thy conduct is wholly good before God. Knowing who ought to obey and
who ought to command, lift not thy heart against the latter.” And
again, “If thou desirest thy conduct to be good and preserved from
evil, keep thyself from attacks of bad temper. It is wrong to fly in a
passion with one’s neighbor to the point of not knowing how to manage
one’s words.”

Siptah is sometimes spoken of as an anti-king, regarded as an usurper,
rather than a rightful heir, and his name is occasionally omitted
from the list of kings. His Horus name is said to mean Horus rising
in Khebit; he added nothing important to the temples and, though
depicted in relief in Silsila and other places, it is probably only
commemorative of small repairs. Buried in his wife’s tomb, he was
removed, in the troublous times of the Twentieth Dynasty, to the tomb
of Amenhetep II. The original tomb has three or four corridors and
several chambers. A picture of the queen, offering gifts to the gods,
was plastered over by Sek-nebta, who usurped the tomb. The remains of
the funeral temple of the king and queen were excavated by Professor
Petrie in 1896. Her temple was between those of Meren-Ptah and Thothmes
IV, and his north of the temple of Amenhetep II.

Another suggestion as regards Siptah is that he may have ruled over
one part of Egypt—the rightful king over another. But, whatever the
ambiguity of his earlier history, it is known that he was buried with
his wife in the Valley of the Tombs of the Kings, Queen Tausert taking
her place with her husband, and not among the Tombs of the Queens where
so many of the royal ladies were laid.

There were probably revolutions and counter revolutions, till the reins
of government were once more finally in the hands of Rameses III.
Whether from the ambition of an usurper to be laid with the true line
of kings, or from a deep affection, Siptah and Tausert shared their
tomb, the queen probably having died first, and the king subsequently,
no doubt by special order being laid beside her. The tomb was
elaborately painted and inscribed, but much is faded by time and the
light and air admitted by explorers. Champoleon believed, we are told,
that he had discovered a cartouch of Seti-Nekht, engraved above that of
Seti II, and the latter above that of Tausert and Siptah; but “there is
no visible trace of this superposition which would assign to Siptah a
date anterior to Seti II.”

One writer says of Tausert that who the queen was is unknown; she
may have been a queen dowager, with special rights as daughter of a
Pharaoh, and may have been the widow of Seti I and mother of the Prince
of Cush, if so Siptah was her husband’s brother and child’s uncle. She
is also spoken of as “hereditary daughter—exalted.”

Belzone made a close investigation of these tombs, discovering various
points of interest which had escaped the notice of earlier explorers.
The tombs were cut in the face of the limestone rock, with passages,
steps and doorways, and a pit at the end, probably to discourage
intruders. He broke through a wall which gave a hollow sound when
struck, and discovered several more pillared halls and passages. The
body, which, by embalming, was converted into a mummy, was, especially
in the case of royalty and other distinguished people, most carefully
preserved. First placed in a casket of cedar or other wood elaborately
painted with figures of the gods, this again in an outer casket of
wood, more roughly decorated, and finally in a stone sarcophagus.

Reference has been made before to a sort of court or trial which was
held at the entrance to the grave to decide if the deceased was worthy
to enter the presence of Osiris.

In a modern Arab funeral a number of men walk first, chanting a ritual.
The bier, with a high peak in front, like the prow of a Nile boat, is
carried by friends and comes next, and upon the bier a tin horn is
placed if the corpse is a man, a shawl and jewelry and other ornaments,
if a woman, and a red shawl indicates youth. A more minute description
of this is given by Pollard, in the “Land of the Monuments.” The
funerals take place within a few hours of death. Different from the
old Egyptian custom, the body in its winding sheet is covered with
shawls, and the procession is closed by the chief mourners, followed by
friends, sometimes walking hand in hand.

Details as regards the tomb of Tausert and Siptah are to be found
in the guide books, but the passing traveller will probably glance
hastily at pictures and inscriptions and hurry on; only the student has
leisure or inclination for minute or accurate investigation. The tomb
represents the royal couple absorbed in religious exercises, offering
to the various gods and goddesses their prayers, praises and gifts.
The queen stands before Harmachus, “god of the morning,” and Anubis,
“the god of the dead,” and Ne-fer-tum-Hor, and again before Ptah, “the
Opener,” and Ma, “goddess of Truth.” All representations of this last
goddess are said to be “refined, calm and peaceful” in expression and
worthy of the character of the goddess of Truth.

Then the king stands before Isis, “the mother,” and Horns, “the son,”
and in other pictures the royal consorts are together before some god,
perhaps carrying or crowned with flowers. And again the queen before
Harmachus, Hathor, the Egyptian Venus, and Nepthys, “lady of the
house.” The sarcophagus of Tausert bears her likeness, between Isis
and Nepthys, a conventional idea of what a goddess was or should be,
setting the pattern.

The tomb has also other pictures of some of the lesser gods, armed
with knives, keeping guard over a chapel, to ward off evil ones,
Hathor standing in the doorway. Again the king and the high priest,
sacrificing to Osiris and the winged goddess Ma in the doorway of a
chapel, signifying that only Truth may enter. Here is what is called
the act of opening the mouth of the royal likeness in the Hall of Gold.
The high priest appears with his staff and panther skin, the Kereb and
lower priests, who take part in the ceremony, and the people as “those
who come to the tomb,” offering incense. Various rooms are carved and
ornamented with pictures of numerous gods, Thoth with the moon upon his
head, Ma with outspread wings, serpents, boats and other symbols.

Mrs. Stevenson, who has made an especial study of Egyptian symbols,
says that most of the Egyptian goddesses may be said, broadly speaking,
to represent either luminous space, or the activity of the god with
whom they are associated, and their common attributes make it easy
for the Egyptians to reduce them to one type. Sekhet, “the striker”;
Neith, who “shoots”; Hat-Hor, meaning “the home of Horus,” the mother
of Horus; one of those designations is “the mighty striker,” son of
Hat-Hor, and who, at Dendereh, where she was especially worshipped
as the “holy one,” is expressly called Sekhet-Neith, while all are
called “Eye of Ra.” “There are,” she continues, “exceptions, such as
Maut, who represents abstract truth and justice, Safekh, etc.; and in
certain localities where the goddess stood alone, like Neith at Sais,
she included all the attributes of divinity, but her place in the local
triad is as indicated above.”

But to return to the tomb. One hall with seats seems to suggest that
another sarcophagus rested there. So we spell out, read and speculate
over these monuments of long ago. This king and queen were doubtless
buried with great honors; which was it, love or ambition, that ruled
their lives and stamped with its signet even their tomb? Could it be
said of them that “they were lovely in their lives and in death they
were not divided”? Evidently they did not wish to accept the common lot
of man, to pass away and be forgotten.




CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH.

SUCCEEDING QUEENS.


From the time of Rameses II to that of the Ptolemy period no queen
seems to make a marked impression on the passing centuries. We have
here and there a name, here and there an anecdote; but no figure, with
salient points, stands out, about which cluster vitalizing incidents,
or upon whom we may drape a robe of woven romance. Nor were there many,
even among the kings, who have the bold outlines of some of their
predecessors.

Seck-net or Seti-nekht was first of the Twentieth Dynasty, is believed
to have reigned seven years, and united with himself, and was succeeded
by, his son Rameses III. He seems to have made no special mark upon his
time, was neither a great ruler nor a great builder, and we know little
of him. There is a picture of him and Rameses III kneeling on either
side of the sun’s disk, and he appropriated and enlarged the tomb of
Queen Tausert for himself, covering the figures and name of the queen
with stucco.

Rameses III was a builder of temples, a rich, magnificent and
splendor-loving monarch, a warrior and conqueror. His Hobrus names were
“Mighty bull, great one of kings,” and “Mighty bull, beloved of Maat,
establisher of the lands.” But, even at a period, whose moral point of
view was so different from the Christian, it is claimed that this was a
court distinguished for its licentiousness. His queen’s name is given
as Ast, or Ise, also as Hemalczotha, which seems to suggest that she
was a foreigner, possibly a Khitan or Assyrian princess. Her father is
spoken of as Hebuansozanath. Often the space beside the king’s name is
left vacant, as if she could not or would not appear in his company.
From her tomb also her name is obliterated, while that of her husband
and son remain.

The walls of the temples and palaces built by Rameses III are adorned
with the story of his life. There are naval engagements, the ships
with embroidered sails, and the king is seen as a conqueror, of the
Libyans and others, carried in state above the heads of the people,
surrounded by priests and followed by warriors and captives, while in
other processions the queen also appears, following. The great Harris
papyrus, too, of the thirty-second year of his reign, found near the
temple of Medinet-Abou or Haboo, gives much information concerning him
and a long list of gifts which he presented to the temples.

Among the other pictures on the walls we see Rameses III enjoying
himself in the midst of, some say his daughters, but more probably
the members or slaves of his harem. Others, again, believe them to be
intended for goddesses or mythological characters. Sylph-like figures
attend upon the king. To quote from a previous article upon the
subject, “One plays draughts with him, another holds a lotus blossom
to his nose (a favorite attention in Egypt), others offer him wine
and refreshments. The queen, as a chief figure, nowhere appears. The
costumes approach that of the Garden of Eden, a necklace and light
sandals. We are reminded of the description of a Japanese family:
‘The summer costume of a middle class Japanese consists of a queue, a
breechcloth and a pair of sandals; that of his son and heir the same
minus the queue, the cloth and the sandals, while that of his spouse is
a little, and only a little more elaborate.’”

It is impossible, naively and gravely, remarks one critic, rather
than from the standpoint of the Twentieth Century, than the Twentieth
Dynasty, that respectable families should so have conducted themselves,
therefore the garments must have evaporated in the course of years. But
it was so near the Garden of Eden, the climate was so warm, and the
little creatures seem so at ease in their airy nothings, that it is
almost appears as if “beauty unadorned was adorned the most.” Some of
the pictures are too obscene for reproduction.

It is of interest to note how very ancient are certain games, such as
chess, draughts or checkers, and others which still hold a place among
our modern amusements. Other pictures, discovered years ago in the
mastabas or grave chambers, of still earlier date, 5200 B. C., give
also the game of chess, the invention of which has been attributed both
to India and China.

Extensive insurrection and disturbances, it is evident, had
prevailed in the kingdom, and that Rameses III had brought order
out of the chaos. He described himself as “the darling of Amen, the
victory-bringing Horus.” After his conquests he turned his attention
to building, commerce, digging of reservoirs and planting of trees;
nevertheless a general decline of Egypt is said to have begun in his
reign.

But if the king had restored order in the land, not so well had he kept
his own household in check. Records remain of a conspiracy which arose
in his harem, headed by the Lady Ti, Thi, or Tey, said to be the mother
of a certain Pentaur or Pen-ta-urt, whom she wished to put upon the
throne. She probably hated the “royal wife, the great lady, the lady
of two lands, Ast.” In exactly what way the Lady Ti was related to the
king is not specified. In both the museums of Paris and Turin there
is some account of this _cause celebre_. The steward, Pal-bak-Amen,
was her chief co-adjutor, also a certain Penhuiban or Hui, a cattle
inspector, who indulged in “Black Art,” made amulets and images of wax
for ladies, and had books containing directions how to strike people
blind and to make figures in effigy to bring trouble upon any one who
was hated. Melting wax figures and sticking pins in them to harm an
enemy we think of as belonging to the age of Queen Elizabeth, and lo,
it was known and practiced in Egypt thousands of years before!

On the other hand, may it not have been also possible that Queen Ise or
Ast had some share in the plot, or at least sympathized with it, thus
giving another reason for the non-appearance of her name beside the
king’s. One of the ladies concerned wrote to her brother, commanding
the army in Ethiopia, and ordered or entreated him to fight against
the king. But whether he did as was desired or not, the revolt was
unsuccessful. It was crushed with some severity, and it is said forty
men and six women were compelled to commit suicide, and a mummy,
thought to be that of Pentaur, and showing signs of death by poison,
has been found.

Rameses III reigned thirty-seven years, and there is a list of his
sons, several of whom succeeded him. He was buried in the Tombs of
the Kings, doubtless with all the honors of state, but his body was
not allowed to rest in peace, it was included in the general upheaval
caused by robbers, before described. His mummy was found in the large
coffin of Nefertari-Aames, and on being unrolled fell to dust. His
features were said to be softer, finer and more intelligent than some
of his predecessors, his figure less straight and vigorous and his
shoulders narrower. His red granite sarcophagus is in the Louvre and
the lid in the Fitz-William museum at Cambridge. His tomb is sometimes
called “the Harpers,” from the figure of two harpers in a scene on one
side, also “Bruce’s tomb” from the name of the modern discoverer. Among
the treasures found in this tomb were two golden baskets. His period is
given as 1200 B. C.

Rameses III was succeeded by his sons or connections of the same name,
who followed him, as one writer has said, with “ominous rapidity,” from
number one to number thirteen. They seem to have been a faineant race,
and the proud name of Rameses degenerated from reign to reign. Here and
there in the Tombs of the Kings, or in other spots, we find their last
resting places.

Among them, perhaps, Rameses IV was one of the most conspicuous; and
his queen, given as Isis-Ast, was buried in the Tombs of the Queens.
The tombs of Rameses IV and VI are decorated with astronomical designs;
the sun appears in his chariot as Horus-Ra, and that of Rameses IV
has pictures of the resurrection. The seventh son is given as Ramessu
Meritum, son of Queen Muf-nofer-ari.

A papyrus of the time of Rameses IX gives an account of the violation
of the royal tombs by robbers, which was then discovered; and this
Abbott papyrus contains a list of the tombs inspected, hence the
mummies were removed at different periods from place to place for
greater safety. A woman called “Little Cat” confessed that she had been
in the tomb of Queen Ast, wife of Rameses III, and purloined various
articles.

The line of priest-kings, of whom Her-Hor was the first, chose a
common place of sepulture, and thither were at last carried many
of the earlier royal remains. The discovery of these in the cave
at Deir-el-Bahari made a world-wide sensation and has already been
referred to. There were three kings of the Thothmes name, two Rameses
and Seti I, as well as the later kings of the priestly line, Pinotem or
Pinozem I and II.

Here, too, we learn the little we know of some of the queens. There
was Queen Ansera, of the Seventeenth Dynasty, Queen Aames Nofritari,
Hatimoohoo, and Sitha of the Eighteenth, and queens Notem-Maut,
Hathor-Houtta-ni, Ma-ka-Ra, and Isem-Kheb, and a queen Hest-em-Seket,
as well as Princess Nesi-Khonsu, and a number of princesses and
priestesses, called “Singers of Amen.”

Some of the coffins of this period show, on a yellow ground, a picture
of the dead piercing a serpent with a lance. Among the Tombs of the
Queens are a few of the Eighteenth, but more of the Nineteenth and
Twentieth Dynasties. Here was placed the wife of Rameses III, with name
no longer legible. Here Queen Ti, or Titi, wife of the earlier King
Amenophis III, with her blue eyes and fair skin, pictured as making
offerings to the gods. Here Bint-Antha, favorite daughter of Rameses
II. One tomb has the name obliterated and Tuattent-apt written upon it
in red ink. Here is Isis-Ast, wife of Rameses IV, Queen Sitra of the
Twentieth Dynasty, and many others.

There is an interesting story of a queen, by some authorities said to
be the wife of Rameses XIII, by others of Rameses XII, and by some
queen of Rameses II or III, claiming that Rameses XII was never in
Mesopotamia, while Mariette believes it to have been merely a legend
invented by the priests to do honor to the god Chonsu or Khonsu.
This king, whatever his place in the royal line, was, like his great
predecessor, Amenophis III, fond of hunting. He also went abroad to
collect tribute from subjugated peoples, and in Mesopotamia among
those who came to pay was a certain chief or prince, who brought with
him a beautiful daughter, with whom the Egyptian king at once fell in
love and bore her home to share his life and throne. This princess
of Bakhten took the name of Ra-neferu, “the glories of the sun,”
and evidently had much influence with her husband. For later came
messengers from her native country, saying that her sister, Bentresh,
was ill, and begging for the loan of the ark of the god Khonsu, which
was sure to cure her. We can hardly imagine the king willing to part
with such a treasure, except to pleasure the queen. To her wishes,
therefore, he yielded, and the ark, with a proper escort, was sent
away, and accomplished a miraculous cure, as had been anticipated.
Naturally, those who were benefited clung to the same, and years passed
without the return of the borrowed treasure. But finally the king, or
prince, of Bakhtan, “dreamed a dream,” like the Pharaoh of Scriptures,
in which a golden hawk came out of the ark and flew to Egypt. Possibly
the king of Egypt had demanded its return before, or perhaps the
queen’s influence had been used to induce him to leave it, for the
benefit of her family, as long as possible. The explanation is not
given, but at last the conscience of the delinquent was pricked, and
the ark, with royal honors, was returned to its native land.

Queen Ra-neferu is variously spoken of as Mesopotamian, Bakhtan or
Lidyan. From this story we may infer that she was young and beautiful
at the period of her marriage, that she had great influence with the
king, and possessed near relatives to whom she was warmly attached.
But this, so far as we know it, is the whole of her history, and other
queens than she of this same general period make no figure among the
records.

For some time the priests had been gaining in power and influence,
and Rameses XIII seems to have been set aside and Her-Hor, priest of
Amen, the third who had directed affairs of state, seized the reins
of government. He is described as of a “pleasing countenance,” with
features that were delicate and good, and expression that was mild
and agreeable. The priest-kings were the chief rulers, but a few
descendants of previous Pharaohs held sway in a portion of the kingdom,
as Japan was once divided between the Mikado of the old regime and the
Shogun, the military and political chief.

Of these monarchs and such of their consorts as are mentioned we now
give a brief summary, chiefly following the guidance of the well known
Egyptologist, Professor Wallis Budge.

Nes-ba-Tettet is called the first king of the Twenty-first Dynasty
of Tanis. From the time of this king to that of Rsammetichus II,
third king of the Twenty-sixth Dynasty, the dates are given as from
about 1100 to 600 B. C. Egypt declined in power and influence, and
its tributaries recovered their independence. With the close of the
Twenty-fifth Dynasty the New Empire came to an end, and the period of
Egyptian Renaissance began. The feeble kingdoms of the South and North
were again united, under Shashang I, and a Libyan reigned. The worship
of the cat-headed goddess Bast increased, and that of Amen-Ra declined,
while his priests were forced to seek refuge in Napata, Nubia.
Esarhaddon, king of Asyria, sacked Thebes, and ruled by governors.

Nes-ba-Tettet, the Smendes of Manetho, possibly a descendant of Rameses
II, reigned at Tanis, while the priest king Her-Hor reigned at Thebes.
The name of the former’s queen, Thent-Amen, is about all we know of
her, and is thought to suggest her having the true claim to the throne.
King Nes-ba-Tettet reigned twenty-nine years, making no such mark in
history as did his great predecessors. This king is also called Nessu
Ba-neb-Tet.

Next came Pasebkhanut I, second of the Tanite kings, who was called the
“Mighty Bull,” and reigned forty-one years. The statues of the Nile,
North and South, in the Cairo Museum, are said to belong to this period.

Long and uneventful seem to have been the reigns of these kings, for
Amen-em-apt, “Amen in Karnak,” a descendant of Nes-ba-Tettet, reigned
forty-nine years, and our chief knowledge of him seems to be derived
from a stele at Cairo, making offerings to Isis, his favorite goddess.

Possibly this king was succeeded by one or two others, with short
reigns. Authorities do not seem decided on this point. A king,
Sa-Sa-Amen, is believed to have reigned sixteen years; his greatest
work was the restoration of the pylons of the temple of Rameses III
at Tanis. Gold and porcelain tablets have also been found, engraved
with his name, and he added it also to the two obelisks taken from
Heliopolis to Alexandria, and thence in modern times to London and New
York, thereby proving he had authority in Heliopolis.

Pasebkhanut II added Heru to his name, thus distinguishing himself
from Pasebkhanut I. He was the last king of the Tanite, Twenty-first
Dynasty, and his daughter is said to have married Solomon. We read in
I Kings: “And Solomon made affinity with Pharaoh, king of Egypt, and
took Pharaoh’s daughter and brought her into the city of David.” Thus,
in the so usual fashion, he strengthened his political connection by
marriage. And the Bible further says: “Pharaoh, king of Egypt, had gone
up and taken Gezer and burnt it with fire, and slain the Canaanites
that dwelt in the city, and given it for a present unto his daughter,
Solomon’s wife.” Pasebkhanut II reigned, it is said, twelve years, and
another daughter married Osorkon I, the first king of the Twenty-second
Dynasty.

We now turn again to the priest-kings in Thebes, also called the
Twenty-first Dynasty. Of the first of them, Her-Heru, or Her-Hor, we
have already spoken. A common title of his was “Living, beautiful
god, son of Amen, lord of the two lands, lord of diadems,” and he
wore the royal uraeus on his forehead. Queen Notem-Mut, Notimit, or
Netchemet, was either mother or wife of King Her-Hor—authorities differ
as to which relation she held to him. By some she was believed to
be a princess of Rammeside blood, as her name is found encircled by
a royal cartouch, while that of the king was not so decorated until
the fifth year of his reign. Another says she was called “great royal
consort,” but not king’s daughter or princess. There is a finely
executed but dilapidated statue of this queen, inlaid with glass, and
her head is also on a sphinx. A papyrus belonging to her, illustrated
with medallion heads, or portrait vignettes of her husband, or son,
Her-Hor, still exists, part being in the Louvre, part in the British
Museum, and part in the possession of a lady in Berlin. It was the
sale of some of these fragments that led to the discovery of the
royal mummies at Deir-el-Bahari. The canopic boxes of Queen Notem-Mut
represented, according to custom, a little chapel, placed on a sledge,
a small jackal in black wood, mounted on the cover. Many were found,
like the mummies themselves, in coffins not belonging to them, but
their inscriptions tell who were the rightful owners. Miss Edwards
discovers a likeness between one of the carved masks of Rameses II and
the vignettes of Her-Hor, and thinks the mummy case may have been made
in the time of the Twenty-first Dynasty and given the likeness of the
reigning king, rather than the person for whom it was intended. Her-Hor
repaired and preserved many of the mummies of the more ancient kings.

He was succeeded, apparently, not by his son Piankhi, or Pianchi (who
perhaps died before him or whose reign was too short or insignificant
to be dwelt upon), but by his grandson, Pinotem, Pinozem, or
Pai-netchem I, who is said to have married a princess of the old line,
a daughter of Pa-seb-kha-nut I, king of Tanis, and who is variously
termed Maat-ka-Ra, Ra-ma-ka, or Rahama. He was both high priest and
king, which has caused some confusion to the chronologists. His Horus
name was “he who satisfieth the gods, he who performeth glorious things
for their doubles.” He had a long reign, some say twenty-one years.
Queen Maat-ka-Ra is called on one of her coffins, “divine wife, a
priestess of Amen, in the Apts, lady of the two lands.” In the same
coffin was the tiny mummy of her infant daughter, Mutem-hat. Mother
and child evidently died soon after the birth of the latter. A box
with two compartments accompanied them, filled with funeral statuettes
for the two queens, for the baby, though she died and was embalmed in
infancy, is called Queen Maut-em-hat. An accompanying papyrus gives the
royal cartouch, around the name of Maat-ka-Ra, but to the child also,
strangely enough, the title of “Royal Wife,” etc. Another wife of the
same king was called Henttaui, daughter of Nebseni, and Thent-Amen,
and mother of the high priest of Amen, Men-keper-Ra. Her mummy, with
double coffin, was found at Deir-el-Bahari. Great efforts had been made
to preserve the lifelike aspect, red was put on the lips and cheeks,
and the eyes were treated with eye-paint. She wore a much becurled wig,
and even the furrows made by mummification were filled with paste.
Pai-netchem I had also been removed to Deir-el-Bahari, and the upper
part of the body was found rifled of amulets, but the lower part was
intact, the Book of the Dead between the legs. He had repaired and
found places of safety for royal mummies, Amen-hetep II, Thothmes II,
Rameses II and Rameses III.

The priest kings made Thebes their residence while the old line dwelt
at Tanis or San. One writer says that the papyri of the princes
and princesses of the family of Pai-netchem or Pi-nozem show the
best traditions of art to have been yet in force in the time of the
Twenty-first Dynasty. The ushabti, little figures which so often were
placed in the tombs with the mummies, came into general use in the
Eighteenth Dynasty. They were made of painted limestone, hard stone,
steatite, wood, etc. At the end of the dynasty they began to be made of
porcelain, and were glazed with such colors as mauve, yellow, chocolate
and blue. In the Nineteenth Dynasty blue was the universal color, and
figures were made like living people, in every-day clothes, rather
than, as previously, to resemble mummies. This continued through the
Twentieth Dynasty and is found sporadically under the Twenty-second,
while in the Twenty-first, as a general rule, they had returned to the
mummy form and had a brilliant blue glaze with black inscriptions.
In the “Book of the Dead,” in the Eighteenth Dynasty, the vignettes
were sometimes colored, sometimes plain, later coarser and more
representative of modern things.

Masaherth and Men-kheper-Ra, sons of Pai-netchem I, seem to have been
priests rather than kings. The latter married Ast-em-khebit, and became
the father of Pai-netchem II, Hent-taui, and others. Ast-em-khebit or
Ist-em-khebit is sometimes spoken of as queen, and probably belonged to
the royal line. Authorities differ much as to this period, and it is
difficult to give a perfectly clear account of the succession. Many of
this lady’s belongings were found among those of the royal mummies so
often referred to. That she died before her husband is proved by his
seals remaining unbroken upon the hamper of mummified food accompanying
the body. She was evidently much beloved, and buried, like others of
her family, with special care, in three coffins, elaborately decorated
and swathed in the finest of linen, in long plaits. The usual shabti,
or “little servants,” accompanied her, as well as beautiful vases in
blue glass, inscribed with funerary legends. Baskets of food, boxes
with wigs, and many other articles, the reproductions of those used in
daily life, were included in her burial outfit. A pet gazelle was also
mummified and buried with her, a pathetic suggestion of her tenderness
of heart. While crumbled and cast aside was her funeral tent, with an
inscription wishing her “a happy repose,” among the first articles
found when the modern discoverers entered these long hidden places of
sepulture.

Pai-netchem II, son of Ast-em-Khebit, married Nes-su-Khensu, who seems
sometimes to be regarded as a queen, and is the last of the line of
whom we have record. Her husband, too, appears rather as a high priest
and commander of soldiers than a king, and again the claim to higher
descent may have been on the lady’s side. There were several children
of this marriage, but they are not specially noteworthy.

The priests apparently did little for the enlargement or aggrandizement
of Egypt. They ruled about a hundred and twenty-five years, preserved
generally friendly relations with the more ancient royal line, seem to
have been less oppressive and despotic than some of the earlier kings,
and contented themselves with repairing the temples and the royal
mummies, and have left behind many interesting funeral remains and
papyri, said to form a highly important class of literature.




CHAPTER NINETEENTH.

SUCCEEDING QUEENS (CONTINUED).


Authorities agree that the Twenty-second Dynasty made Bubastis its
principal city, and seem to have been descended from a race of great
chiefs. Shashanq or Sheshenk I, the Sesonchis of the Greeks, and
Shishak of I Kings, was the first king of the dynasty, a Libyan, son
of the chief Namareth, who was buried at Abydos, and of whom there are
statues in Florence, as well as gold bracelets with his name in the
British Museum. Also the grandson of Shashanq, the “great prince of
Mashauasha,” and the Egyptian princess, Mehtet-en-usekht. Shashanq I
married a Rammeside princess, and through her, probably, or possibly
through his Egyptian grandmother, laid claim to the throne. His reign
seems to have begun before the death of Paseb-khanut II, last king of
the Twenty-first, Tanite Dynasty. One author says his wife’s rank was
shown by the prefix Sutem-sat, or others claim that this belonged to
the Egyptian grandmother.

Shashanq I married Karama, or Karamat, called “a morning star of
Amen,” daughter of the last Tanite king. She had been despoiled of
her inheritance and was restored to all her rights by this marriage.
The custom of taking more than one wife often enables the student to
reconcile apparent discrepancies.

Brugsch says the ordinance relating to this marriage was engraved on
the north side of a pylon, near the temple of Amon in Karnak. “Thus
spake Amon, the king of the gods,” “with regard to any object of any
kind, which Karamat, the daughter of the king of Upper Egypt, Miamun
Pisebkhan, has brought with her as the hereditary possession which had
descended to her in the Southern district of the country, and with
regard to each object of any kind whatever which the people of the
land have presented to her, which they have at any time taken from the
(royal) lady, we hereby restore it to her. Any object of any kind. Any
object of any kind whatsoever (which) belongs (as an inheritance to the
children) that (we hereby restore) to her children for all time. Thus
speaks Amon-Ra, the king of the gods, the great king of the beginning
of all being, Mut, Khonsu and the great gods,” etc., etc., at great
length and with much repetition, closing with a number of threats, if
this command is not complied with, and ending with “we will sink their
noses in the earth,” and an unfinished, “we will.”

Josephus says that Jeraboam, the son of Nebat, who revolted against
Solomon, took refuge with Shashanq I, until Solomon’s death, and
married a daughter of the king of Egypt. Later Shashanq I made an
expedition against Rehoboam, son of Solomon, who governed the two
tribes, and was proud of the victory by which he recovered the Egyptian
hold on Palestine. The dates of the Twenty-second Dynasty are given
by Budge as 966 to 750 B. C. Shashanq I also repaired the temples and
caused his son, the viceroy of a part of Egypt, to remove to a place
of greater safety various royal mummies, who perhaps travelled more
after death than during life. Shashanq reigned twenty-one years, called
himself “Prince, doubly mighty, subduer of the nine Bows, greatest
of the mighty ones of all lands,” thus falling not a whit behind his
Rammeside predecessors in his estimate of himself.

He was succeeded by his son Osorkon, or Usarkon I, who, according to
Manetho, reigned fifteen years. There is a head of Osorkon in the
British Museum, of a Mongolian type, once thought to be one of the
Hyksos kings. He appears to have had two wives, Ta-shet-Kensu, whose
son Thekeleth succeeded to the throne, and Maat-Ka-Ra, daughter of a
Tanite king, whose son Shashanq became high priest and commander of the
forces. He is, by some, credited with a third wife, but she was perhaps
merely a concubine, and the two others evidently occupy a first place.

Takelut or The-keleth I followed, with a wife named Shepes, daughter
of Neter-mer-Heru, probably a priest, or one of the Egyptian nobles,
and they had two sons; the eldest, Namareth became a priest, while
a second, Osorkon, succeeded. Manetho says Thekeleth I reigned
twenty-three years, but there are few authentic records remaining
either of him or his queens.

Usarkon or Osorkon II had three wives, and according to the same
authority reigned twenty-nine years. One queen’s name was Karama,
or Kareama, and she had a son called Shashanq, a name which seems
frequently handed down in this race. A second queen, Mat-ketch-ankh-s,
or, as she is elsewhere called, Mut-hat-ankhes, whose son Namareth was
again high priest, and a third, Ast-em-khebit, daughter of the princess
Thes-bast-peru, who gave to her daughter her mother’s name. During the
reign of these sovereigns the goddess Bast, who had formerly been a
mere local deity, rose to first importance, and Bubastis superseded
Memphis and Thebes as the principal city. The king held magnificent
festivals in honor of Amen and as a tribute of respect to the queen,
who not only inherited sovereign rights over the principality of
Thebes, but was also high priestess of Amen. Pontifical rights were
sometimes inherited in the female line, and this gave her husband
claims at Thebes, Bubastis being the chief seat of his government.

A colossal Hathor-headed capitol, in the museum in Boston, bears this
inscription: “In the year 22, in the first day of Choriak (October
8th of our reckoning) the appearing of his majesty in the Hall of
Festival. He reposes on the throne, and the consecration is begun, the
consecration of the harem of the house of Amon” (the priestesses of
Amon were designated as the wives of the god) “and the consecration of
all the women who have dwelt as priestesses therein since the day of
his fathers.”

There is a bas-relief showing a procession, first the king, then the
queen and her daughters, followed by many priests and women, these last
slender and graceful, carrying water jars, said to be of electrum,
others bearing sheafs of flowers, some the ankh or life sign, and still
others in single file, clapping their hands in measured time.

Queen Karama is followed by her or the king’s daughters, and little
dwarfs, like the god Bes, are also included in the procession. The
princesses are called Tasbakeper, Karoma and Meri-Amen. The queen
assists the king in making offerings in the great festival hall, built
especially for the purpose. A sculptured bas-relief of King Osorkon II
and Queen Karama, at full length, is in the British Museum. Scarabs of
these and later periods are in the New York Museum and in many other
places. An inscription remains telling of a great flood which occurred
in this reign, so that in order to enter the temples the priests had to
wade through water several feet deep, and it is said to have been the
highest rise of the Nile ever known.

Of Shashanq II, who succeeded, or of his wife, almost nothing is
recorded; he was probably a peaceful king and did little towards
building or repairing temples.

Queen Karemama was the wife of the next king, Takelut or Theke-leth
II, who reigned fifteen years, and is described as the “Great chief
of Mashanasha”; the queen is called “great royal wife” and “beloved
of Mut.” Brugsch speaks of her as a daughter of Nimrod, and gives
her a very lengthy name, which we can only hope that the lady was of
sufficient size to carry. Another wife is called Mut-em-hat-sat-Amen.
The former was the mother of the high priest Uarsarken. The queen was
descended from one of the royal families of Thebes, and, perhaps in
deference to her wishes, they dwelt for a while in Thebes, with a view
also, no doubt, of propitiating the priests. The queen is also called
“princess, great lady and mistress of the South.”

Shashanq III turned the huge statue of Rameses II into a pylon, having
no more respect for his predecessors than did Rameses II himself, and
his exploits are inscribed and described after those of Rameses II and
Seti I. He adopted the pre-nomen of Rameses II. An Apis bull, a tablet
records, was born in the twenty-eighth year of his reign; but, though
it lasted fifty-two years, there seem to be no memorials remaining,
which was also the case with his successor, Pamai. Nor in the reign of
his son Shashanq or Shishak IV do we find mention of the queen. The
former seems to have reigned only two, the latter thirty-seven years.

All this time Egypt was in more or less of a turmoil, with a divided
or disputed succession, “Such a condition of things,” says one writer,
“was of course fatal to literature and art,” which latter “did not so
much decline as disappear,” and after Shashanq I no monarch of the line
left any building or sculpture of the slightest importance. In this
period of doubt and disorder we have the names of a king, Peta-Bast,
Auuth-meri-Amen and Uasar-ken or Osorkon III, whose mother and wife are
probably mentioned as “Royal mother, royal wife, Tata-Bast, and son of
the sun, Nasaek (en) living forever” in a golden aegis of the goddess
Sekhet, in the Louvre.

Named as one of the Twenty-third Dynasty, we have Pi-ankhi, who
descended on Egypt from Ethiopia, whither the priests had retired,
who made his capital at Napata and who, probably through his wife
was connected with the old royal families of Egypt. Pi-ankhi called
himself “King of Kush,” and the mother, sister and daughter of the
king bore each a title of honor as “Queen of Kush.” In inscriptions
the king is spoken of as being “like a panther,” and we further read
that “Then Nimrod sent forth his wife, the queen and daughter of a
king, Nes-thent-nes,” or, as she elsewhere is called, Nes-thent-meh
to supplicate the queens and royal king’s daughters and sisters. And
they threw themselves prostrate in the women’s house before the queens
(saying), “Pray come to me, ye queens, king’s daughters and king’s
sisters! Appease Horus, the ruler of the palace. Exalted is his person,
great his triumphs. Cause his anger to be appeased before my (prayer),
else he will give over to death the king, my husband (but) he is
brought low”; when they had finished her majesty was moved in her heart
at the supplication of the queen. This comes from a closely written
memorial stone set up by the king. It is spoken of as “The Inscription
of Pi-ankhi Mer-Amen, king of Egypt, in the eighth century B. C.,” and
the Nimrod mentioned was probably Nemareth, one of the petty rulers of
Egypt before referred to. The stone was discovered at Mont Barkal, the
place where it was originally set up, and the words in brackets are
those half obliterated and restored to make out the sense.

When the victor entered the conquered city we are told that “then came
to him the king’s wives, and the king’s daughters, and they praised
his majesty, after the manner of women; but his majesty did not turn
his countenance upon them.” Ungallant majesty, who was hastening on to
further conquests and had no time for social amenities! To Nemareth,
however, who finally came, leading “a horse with his right hand, and
holding a sistrum made of gold and lapis-lazuli in his left,” Pi-ankhi
was more condescending—nobly forgave him, like some other nations we
have heard of, for defending his own territory, and accompanied him to
the temples, and then to Nemareth’s stables, where he, with further
condescension, actually scolded the grooms for giving the horses too
short rations during the siege.

Elsewhere the queen Pi-anchi, or the next monarch, is spoken of as
“sister and wife, the queen of Kekmi (Egypt) Ge-ro-a-ro-pi.” The
stone from which this was taken has two pictures, the other showing
also the Ethiopian queen. Says Brugsch, “While this sister of the
king is designated as Queen of Nubia, another, who was also a wife of
Miamun-Mut, is called Queen of Egypt.” His majesty seems to have spent
a great deal of time sailing up and down the river, yet conquering
wherever he went. And it is probable, after the weak rulers had all
submitted to him, he returned to Ethiopia, where he died.

According to Manetho there was but one king of the Twenty-fourth
Dynasty, of the old line, named Barkenrenef, who reigned for six years
only, at Sais, and there is no mention of his wife. But meanwhile an
Ethiopian, possibly the son of Pi-ankhi, held authority at Thebes,
and is called “King of the South, Kasta.” He seems to have married a
priestess of Amon, called “divine adorer” or “morning star,” a daughter
of Osorken III by the name of Shep-en-apt, and Sabaka, who became king,
and Amenartas, a priestess, who held the rank of “Neter tuat,” which
her mother had also borne.

This Sabaka, or Sabaco, became king of the Nubian Twenty-fifth Dynasty
and reigned about twelve years. He called himself “king of the South
and North” and “son of the sun.” He appears to have made repairs on
various temples and was a contemporary of Sargon and Sennacherib, kings
of Assyria, with which country, as well as with Palestine, the confused
history of Egypt, through all this period, is much associated.

Queen Amenartas, or, as she is elsewhere called, Ameneritis, married
Pi-ankhi, a Nubian prince, and styled herself “royal daughter, royal
sister, royal wife.” Her husband called himself “Uniter of two lands”
and “multiplier of mighty men.” The queen was a zealous restorer of
the temples, and added chambers and small sanctuaries at Karnak, in
one of which a fine limestone statue of her was found. We know that
she was considered beautiful, and Brugsch says, “sweet peace seems to
hover about the features; even the flower in her hand suggests her high
mission as reconciler of the long feud.” A part of the inscription at
her feet, on the base of the statue at Gizeh, from which the names of
her father and mother are erased, reads: “May he (the god Amen) grant
everything that is good and pure by which the divine nature lives, all
that the heaven bestows and the earth brings forth, to the princess,
the most pleasant, the most gracious, the kindest and most amiable
queen of Upper and Lower Egypt, the sister of the king (Sabaco), the
ever-living, the daughter of the deceased king (Khasta), the wife of
the divine one, Amenisitis. May she live!” Of herself she says, “I
was the wife of the divine one, a benefactress to her city (Thebes),
a bounteous giver for her land. I gave food to the hungry, drink to
the thirsty, clothes to the naked.” So we may judge that she was good,
beautiful and beloved.

There is an ivory plaque of Queen Ameneritis in the New York Museum
bearing a figure and a cartouch of “the divine wife, Ameneritis,
daughter of Ra Khasta,” the sister, and it says also, the wife of
Sabaco of the Twenty-fifth Dynasty. The queen is shown on the plaque
kneeling on the right, holding a lotus in each extended hand, with a
necklace and short hair, like a man’s, and on her head a crescent and
disk. There is an alabaster statue of Queen Ameneritis on a base of
gray granite in the Gizeh Museum, which has a rather long but slim and
delicate figure; but the head is overweighted with the wig of a god and
she has a gloomy expression—possibly brought on by the discomfort of
her wig in particular, and her experiences of life in general. Numerous
monuments and scarabs bear her name and titles, and Budge says that
within the last few years the British Museum has secured a remarkable
object once belonging to her. It is of glazed steatite, with the
cartouch and a short prayer cut in hieroglyphics upon it; at one end a
perforated projection by which it was probably hung, and on the other a
sign; its use is unknown.

Shabataka, “son of the sun,” is accounted the second king of the
Twenty-fifth Dynasty, and was probably associated with his father in
the government. A stele now in Turin represents Shap-en-apt with her
mother, Amenar, her husband, Pi-ankhi, and Shabataka, showing them to
be contemporaries. Brugsch says that Pi-ma or Pi-mai means the “male
cat.” King Shabataka or Shabata-k, the son of Sabaco, is in the Barabra
language Sab-ato-ki, “the male cat’s son,” just as a Barabran word,
Kash-ato, “horse’s son,” lies at the base of the name Kash-ta, which
is an interesting little piece of philology. An ancient tradition, it
is said, affirms that at the end of twelve years Shabataka was taken
prisoner and put to death at Tirhakah, who became the last king of the
dynasty, and reigned, some say eighteen, some twenty-five years. He
married the princess Amen-tak-het, “the chief wife, the royal sister,
the royal wife.” The name of his mother is thought to be “Akalouka,”
though it is mutilated in the inscriptions, and as she appears to have
been related to the priest-kings, it was probably through her that
Tirhakah laid claim to the throne. It is said that when he was about
twenty years old he was proclaimed king of Napata, and leaving his
mother behind, who had doubtless used her influence to produce this
result, he hastened to Egypt, overthrew and perhaps slew Shabataka, who
was then reigning. A stele which he set up at Tanis gives the further
information that he was the younger but favorite son of his father, and
certainly a youth of ability, to accomplish what he did at the early
age of twenty. He called himself, Son of Amen, and was crowned with
royal honors according to the customs of the ancient Egyptian kings.
He sent for his mother and saluted her as the spouse of Amen, while
she, says Brugsch, “looked upon him with the same pride which Isis felt
as she gazed upon her son Horus.” And, leaving out any moral aspect
of the question, a mother might well be proud of such an able and
energetic son. Some believe the Taket-Amen, whom he married, was the
widow of Shabaka, first king of the Twenty-fifth Dynasty, as he was the
last king of the same, and upon both mother and wife he bestowed high
titles and many honors. 693 or 691 B. C. is the period given as that
on which he ascended the throne. The priests had, so far as in them
lay, made Napata a duplicate of Thebes, but not its equal in fineness
of architectural work. Tirhakah added materially to the building and
repairing of the temples. He built one at Napata or Gebel Barkal,
subsequently destroyed by the fall of overhanging rocks, and added to
and restored many in Egypt, in all of which no doubt his mother, if not
his wife, took great interest, as did Queen Thi, in the work of her son
Khu-en-aten. The early part of his reign was peaceful; then Seracherib,
king of Assyria, seems to have defeated the king of Egypt and others
in battle and caused him to flee, returning temporarily to overthrow
the governors appointed by the Assyrian king, when Esarhaddon, the
son, succeeded, only to be again overthrown. Before the king’s death,
which is spoken of as going to his “dark doom,” he associated with him
Tannath-Amen or Tanut-Amen. The last appearance mentioned of the women
is on a stele at Gebel Barkal, where the king is making an offering
to the god Amen and his sister, Quelhetat, a tiny figure, is pouring
out a libation and shaking a sistrum. Behind the king stands his wife,
Kerearhenti, and while the king has on sandals of a peculiar shape, the
two ladies are in bare feet. Still another king is called Tandamanie,
son of the sister of Tishakah, yet the former seems accounted the final
ruler of the Twenty-fifth Dynasty.

Of the time from the Twenty-second to the Twenty-fifth Dynasty, says
Budge: “With this period the New Empire comes to an end, and we are
on the threshold of the Renaissance of the Egyptian kingdom, with all
its ancient arts and sciences brought into connection with the Greece
of the Seventh Century before Christ.” Under Shashanq a slight revival
took place, and he ruled the whole land, putting an end to the weak
dynasties of Tanis and Thebes. But with the close of the priestly
dynasty the glory of Thebes, which had lasted two thousand years, had
departed, and by the time of the Ptolemies the city was almost in
ruins, and Bubastis, in the Delta, of whose festivals Herodotus has
given us an account, rose to the first place.

During this time, to quote again from Budge. “Much of the spirit of
the old art had undoubtedly been lost, the hieroglyphic script had
become chiefly an official and sacred code of writing used for funeral
prayers, historical inscriptions, etc. And the decay of the written
language, begun as early as the Eighteenth Dynasty, was followed by the
decay of the writing, which became more conventional and abbreviated,
and the hierotic, supplemented by the newly developed script, is
now known as Enchorial or Demotic, the peoples’ or common writing.”
It is also said that the Eighteenth Dynasty was much more elaborate
and luxurious in costume than the earlier ages, but that the severe
simplicity of the former commended itself to the Twenty-sixth Dynasty,
which we now consider.

The first queen seems to have been Shep-en-apt II, a descendant of
Queen Ameneritis. Her cartouch was found on a cornice, and she probably
was of higher birth than her husband, Psamthek I or Psammetichus
I, who is thought to have been merely the son of a governor, while
she was of the blood royal. The queen was a priestess of the grade
“neter tuat,” and through her doubtless her husband laid claim to the
throne. Psammetichus I made Sais his capital; he was, after he was
once established on the throne, less fond of war than many of his
predecessors, was a patron of the arts and sciences, and turned his
attention to the building of temples. A distinct Renaissance of art
took place at this period, with high finish and elaboration of detail,
a certain elegance suggestive of Greek influences. He added a large
gallery, with side chambers, to the Serapeum at Sakkarah, and the stele
found here by Mariette are of the greatest chronological importance. We
learn from them that Psammetichus I immediately succeeded Tirhakah, by
the records of the birth and death of the Apis bull. His name is found
in various places, Philæ and elsewhere, and an obelisk belonging to his
reign was brought by the Emperor Augustus to Rome. He was, some say, of
Nubian, some of Lidyan origin; and there is a glazed porcelain ushabti
figure in the British Museum, supposed to be a likeness of him, which
is very fat and jolly-looking. He had a long reign of fifty-four years,
and both Herodotus and Diodorus give accounts of him. The daughter of
this marriage was named Nitocris, or Nit-a-quert, and an inscription
says, Psammetichus has made a gift to his father Amon: he “has given
him his eldest daughter Nitaquit-Shapen-apit, to be his divine spouse,
that she may shake the sistrum before him.” This princess traveled
from one part of the kingdom to another and was received with great
honor. Sometimes the queens adopted daughters and associated them in
the governing power. One stele found at Karnak states that the king
caused his daughter to be adopted by the lady Shep-en-apt, the sister
of Tirhakah, who had inherited property from her father and mother,
and had previously adopted a daughter of Tirhakah’s, Amenartas (II).
Says Budge: “The stele, which is dated in the ninth year of the reign
of Psammetichus I, proves that Tirhakah’s sister was ruling at Thebes,
as a priestess of Amen, while Psammetichus I was reigning at Sais,
and that when Nit-aquert had been adopted by her, the daughter of the
king of Sais (Nit-aquert) took her name also. The stele was set up to
commemorate her journey to Thebes, where she was welcomed with the
greatest joy as the heiress of Tirhakah’s sister, and where she no
doubt received not only the property, but also the rank and position
of her whose name she took, Shap-en-apt, the daughter of Pi-anchi and
Amen-artis I, and grand-daughter of Khasta and Shep-en-apt I, the
last named lady being a daughter of Osorkon.” The distinction between
Shep-en-apt, the wife of the king, and the adopted mother of her
daughter, does not seem to be very clear. Nitocris bore the same name
as the last ruler of the Sixth Dynasty, and a rose-colored sarcophagus
inscribed with this, and having a granite cover, is in one of the
museums.

All this period is to some extent still a matter of dispute among
authorities as to the exact titles and order of succession of the
kings, and as to their importance in the line; compared to their
predecessors, and even to their successors, they were but petty rulers,
holding control over but a portion of the country, and in many cases
more like governors than chief authorities.

According to Professor Budge, Apries was the next king. His Horus name
was U-ah-ab-Ra, and he is spoken of as Pharaoh Hophra in the Bible, of
whom, though he reigned from nineteen to twenty-five years, we know
little, and his wife is not mentioned. He was overthrown by his own
general, Amasis, or Aames II, who became king, and apparently lived in
peace with his predecessor for some years, but slew him, or permitted
him to be slain, when Apries endeavored to regain his lost authority.
Amasis II took unto himself several wives, and welcomed and favored
the settlement of Greek colonies in Egypt. He took the Horus name of
Smen-Maat, “Stablisher of Law,” and was apparently good-natured and
affable when not fighting. His wives are given as the lady Shent-kheta,
daughter of Peta-Nit, and the queen, Takanath, daughter of Psammetichus
I. She had been chosen heiress of Nitocris or Nit-a-quert, and it was
doubtless to legalize his claim to the throne that Amasis II contracted
the marriage. The female pieces in this regal game of chess were of
immense value. What share the ladies had in the disposal of their
hands we do not learn, but in most cases it could hardly have been
an important one. Amasis II was a builder and restorer of temples,
and his name is found in many places. At the end of his forty-fourth
year to power he died and was buried at Sais. Queens Shep-an-apt and
Nitocris, who were priestesses of Amen, were buried at el Aso-fif, and
laid, as were other ladies of royal blood, in tombs with finely worked
ante-chambers and inscriptions, and with false doors.

Psamthek or Psammetichus III, who reigned only six months, succeeded
to Amasis II, and is sometimes omitted from the list of kings. He was
the son of the Lady Thent-kheta, and some reliefs of him are found in a
small temple near the temple of Amasis II and Nitocris, where there are
pictures of these queens; and with him ends the Twenty-sixth Dynasty,
and we come to the consideration of the Persian rule, numbered, though
of entirely different blood, as the Twenty-seventh Dynasty.




CHAPTER TWENTIETH.

DAILY LIFE.


“How lived, how loved, how died she?” are questions that rise in the
mind in thinking of these royal ladies of the past. Of their individual
lives but few records remain, and it is from inscriptions and paintings
on the tombs, especially of those of less prominence than the kings, we
may gather something of the daily life of the queens.

“No nation of the earth has shown so much zeal and ingenuity, so
much method and regularity in recording the details of private life
as the Egyptians,” says Brugsch. The kings’ tombs chiefly celebrated
their victories, the king riding forth in his chariot, or with his
captives by the hair, in the act of slaying them, or the king—sometimes
accompanied by the queen—making offerings to the gods, these are the
favorite subjects for the artist’s pencil, but for the details of
female life we must look elsewhere.

From the tomb of Ti, of the Fifth Dynasty sometimes called the Pepys
of that period, and from the sepulchres at Beni Hassen, much has been
learned of the domestic life. Ti was a favorite subject of the king’s,
an official of high rank, and his wife a lady of noble birth, of kin to
the royal house. So we have pictures of all the household arrangements,
the feeding and preparing of animals for food, the tenants, male and
female, bringing of the fruits of the earth to their master, and he
himself, after the Egyptian manner, painted of larger size than his
inferiors, going forth to fish and to hunt. Sometimes, but rarely, the
women also accompanied their husbands on these expeditions.

A statue of Ti bears the same likeness as the figure in the tomb. It is
that of a fine young man, with regular features, and the statue of his
wife Nofre-hoteps, grand-daughter of a Pharaoh, was also found.

As has been said before, the women in Egypt had no such separate and
secluded life as those in the Eastern countries, they appear to have
mingled freely with their male relatives, and the queens acted as
regents during the absence of their husbands, or the minority of their
sons, or sometimes ruled in their own right, from the earliest times.

There were the apartments of the women or the king’s harem, but not in
such an exclusive sense as in many other Eastern countries, nor was the
chief official in charge invariably an eunuch.

The seat of government changed from time to time under the different
dynasties, so that some of the queens lived chiefly in Memphis, some in
Thebes, some in Tanis, and, among the later rulers, in Sais and Napata.

The palaces were not many stories in height, and had, sometimes, pylons
and columns in front, the rooms were built round a succession of open
courtyards, which were shaded by palm, orange, olive, fig and other
trees, and they also had large and beautiful gardens with fountains,
especially in the royal country villas. On the flat roofs the people
passed many hours, and disported themselves under awnings, and slept
there on rugs and mats. In the country the houses and grounds were
usually surrounded by high walls. Large mansions stood detached and
had doors opening on various sides, and before the columns or colossi,
at the entrance, hung ribbons or banners, especially on festival
occasions. Sometimes a portico had a double row of columns, with
statues between, these were also colored, and, when not of stone, were
stained to represent it. The walls and ceilings of the palaces were
brilliantly painted. They were also at times inlaid or adorned with
lapis-lazuli, which was a favorite stone, amber and malachite. In the
royal establishments there were porticoes and vestibules, constructed
with great splendor, numerous columns, walls glittering with jewels,
and curtains of gold tissue.

Floors were of stone or composition, roofs with rafters of date palm,
and transverse beams of larger palm. Stone arches have been found both
of the time of Rameses III and Psamettichus. Rare woods were imported,
and also demanded as tribute from foreign nations, conquered by the
Egyptians, as well as gold, silver, precious stones and slaves.

After passing through the servants’ offices one came to the
store-rooms, the great dining hall, the sleeping rooms, and the
kitchens, and at the further end of a piece of ground two buildings,
turned back to back, and separated by small gardens, were the women’s
apartments, which often had shutters closed with valves to keep out the
heat.

The lady is spoken of as “Mistress of the House,” or “Lady of the
House,” and seemed to have full rule over it—there is even a story that
her husband himself was bound to obey her indoors, but this is hardly
likely.

They had low stools for tables, flat baskets for dinner plates, and
pretty Syrian maidens were favorite slaves. Couches, chairs, stools and
tables were of wood, bronze and silver, the feet were often of lions’
claws, and the top of the tables were upheld by figures of captives and
slaves. The furniture was carved with serpents, lotus flowers and other
designs, and the back of a couch or chair was sometimes a hawk with
outspread wings, and the ends of the couch terminated in the head of a
lion or other beast. Sometimes the couches were used for beds and made
ornamental in the day time. The Egyptians had alabaster or wooden head
rests, like the Japanese, though the manner of hair dressing did not
seem to require it to the same extent. The ladies’ dressing tables were
covered with boxes for ointment, bottles for cosmetics, perfumes, and
oils, and they used small metal mirrors, often with the figure of the
god Bes as a handle.

The costumes, adapted to the climate, were light, especially in the
earlier times, and the chief part was of fine linen. Later there
seems to have been more elaboration and heavier and richer materials
used. Wigs protected the head of both male and female from the sun,
as did the turbans and veils of other countries. The vulture, with
outspread wings, emblem of the goddess Mut, formed part of the queen’s
head-dress, as did the royal asp, raised in act to strike.

Thoth was the god of learning, called “the baboon with shining hair and
amiable face,” the “letter writer for the gods.” Children and youth
were expected to study and exhorted, even as far back as the time of
King Pepys, “Give thy heart to learning and love her like a mother.”
And there is also a touch of kinship with more modern times in the
statement that the boy scholar be not allowed to oversleep and that
children left school “shouting for joy.” Severity was sometimes used,
as we read, “The youth has a back, he attends when it is beaten.” And
again, “The ears of the young are placed in the back, and he hears
when he is flogged.” Copy books of 1700 B. C. have been found, and we
possess the school exercises of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Dynasties.
Such examples in mental arithmetic as “There were seven men, each had
seven cats, each cat had eaten seven mice, each mouse had eaten seven
grains of barley. How much barley had been lost in this way?” etc., etc.

But neither were the pleasures and amusements of the little ones
overlooked, and there have been preserved little wooden soldiers, in
the dress of ancient times, dolls, balls and many other things that
still delight the child of to-day; such as tops, boats, etc.

An olive branch was hung at the door on the birth of a boy and a strip
of woolen cloth at that of a girl. If a new born babe cried “Ny!”
it would live, but if it cried “Nibe!” it would die. Mothers nursed
their children for three years, and upon daughters more than upon
sons was laid the obligation of looking after their parents in old
age. The royal children had also, when they were old enough, quarters
of their own, where they were under the charge of a tutor who was
called a nurse. Those of the higher orders, dressed like grown people,
as in the present day the children of Holland are often the amusing
reproductions, in miniature, of their parents. The children of the
lower orders dispensed in great part, or entirely, with any sort of
covering.

Women were mistresses in their own house, came and went freely and so
much so that we have an amusing story that among the lower classes the
husbands sometimes hid their wives’ shoes to keep them at home, and
this before the days of female clubs! But in spite of her privileges
child bearing and work soon aged this class of women.

Among the moral precepts of the Egyptians in a papyrus now in the
Louvre is one that says, “Ill treat not thy wife, whose strength is
less than thine. Be thou her protector,” showing that it was no slavish
relation that was expected to exist between man and wife. And again in
another place we have a father who exhorts his son to have regard for
his mother. “It is God Himself who gave her to thee, and now that thou
art grown up and hast a wife and house in thy turn, remember always
thine helpless infancy and the care thy mother lavished upon thee, so
that she may never have occasion to reproach thee, nor to raise her
hands to heaven against thee, for God would fulfill her curse.”

At the door of a house where there was a bride, flowers were hung, and
a vessel of water was placed where there was a death. Fragments of
impassioned love songs have come down to us, and though we know little
of their marriage customs, compared to their funerals, the freedom of
intercourse between the sexes and the greater opportunity for personal
acquaintance than was usually afforded in Eastern countries, leads to
the supposition that real love matches were not infrequent. Like the
Japanese, they compared the beloved object to blossoms and flowers; nor
were the ladies apparently behind the gentlemen in the free expression
of ardent feeling.

“Thou beautiful one my wish is to be with thee as thy wife,” says
or sings the enthusiastic maiden, and Miss Edwards and others give
instances where each strophe begins with an invocation to a flower,
thus curiously resembling the stornelli of the Tuscan peasantry, of
which every verse begins and ends with a similar invocation to some
familiar blossom or tree.

    “O flower of henna,
    My heart stands still in thy presence.

    I have made mine eyes brilliant for thee with kohl,
    When I behold thee, I fly to thee, oh, my beloved!

    Oh, lord of my heart, sweet is this hour.
    An hour passed with thee is worth an hour of eternity!”

    …

    “Oh, flower of marjoram!
    Fair would I be to thee as the garden in which I
    Have planted flowers and sweet-smelling shrubs!
    The garden watered by pleasant rivulets, and
    Refreshed by the north breeze!

    Here let us walk, oh, my beloved, hand in hand, our
    Hearts filled with joy. Better than food, better
    Than drink, is it to behold thee.
    To behold thee, and to behold thee again!”

This shows clearly the freedom of intercourse permitted, and with what
naivete and frankness it is written! No effort at dissimulation in
acknowledging the artificial enhancement of her charms. Rather perhaps
did she feel herself worthy of commendation for the pains she had
taken. It reminds one of the Southern girl who remarked casually to a
party of friends, of both sexes: “How chilly it is this morning! Oh,
now I know why; I forgot to pencil my eyebrows!”

In their feasts and amusements men and women met together and scenes
in the tombs of the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Dynasties show ladies
discussing their earrings and jewelry, as they might be doing to-day.
To perform toilettes together, put on necklets and exchange flowers was
part of the entertainment, and talking, eating and dressing all went on
to the sound of music. Birthdays and many other festivals, religious
and social, were celebrated, and there were lucky and unlucky days
for music, as well as for many other things. It was especially to be
avoided on the fourteenth Tybi. Pollard mentions “a musical at-home”
among the pictures on the walls of the tombs at Beni-Hassan, where two
harpists, a sistrum player and others are helping to entertain the
visitors.

The guests sat on chairs, or on the floor, and did not recline
at table, as was the custom of many other Eastern nations. Their
entertainment consisted of meat, chiefly beef and kid, geese, fish,
vegetables, of which leeks and onions formed a large part; fruit,
bread, cakes, which the bakers made in various shapes, and wine. This
was freely used and the pictures sometimes show over indulgence on the
part of the women as well as that of the men. Sometimes there were
separate tables for men and women, sometimes they sat together, and
frequently dipped into a common dish. They had spoons for fluids with
various designs for handles, but the use of fingers was general for
most purposes, hence the necessity of frequent washing of the hands.

Of the use of leeks and onions Story says, speaking of an Italian: “Nor
is he without authority for his devotion to those twin saints, Apollo
(or is it Cipollo) and Aglio. There is an odor of sanctity about them,
turn up our noses as we may. The ancient Egyptian offered them as first
fruits, upon the altars of their gods, and employed them also in the
service of the dead, and such was their attachment to them that the
followers of Moses hankered after them, despite the manna, and longed
for ‘the leeks and the onions and the garlic, which they did eat in
Egypt freely.’ Nay the fastidious Greeks not only used them as a charm
against the ‘evil eye,’ but ate them with delight—there is a certain
specific against them—eat them yourself—you will smell them no longer.”

The host and hostess sat together, flowers were abundant, and a special
token of regard was a wreath placed around the neck of the guest. Women
were attended by women slaves who offered them ointment and other
toilette articles. Oil poured upon the head is an attention which would
fail of appreciation in these modern times, but was then considered so
agreeable that a ball was sometimes soaked in oil and placed on the
head of the master of the feast, so that it might trickle down into his
hair. At the close of the banquet a mummy in miniature, richly gilded,
was carried round to remind them of their latter end, or may it not
have been to suggest that happy as they were, they could be happier
still in another world?

We can imagine the olfactories of the Egyptians to have been abnormally
developed, so constantly were they smelling flowers and holding them
under each others noses—even the sacred nose of royalty.

“Smell of my lotus!” “How charming, how delicious!” We can almost hear
the echo. Statues often show husband and wife sitting with hand on
knees, or across the breast, or sometimes on the same chair with arms
around each other’s waist or neck. Doubtless they offered each other
what we may call the tribute of the lotus, or the lotus courtesy,
murmuring, “My dearest, how lovely you are looking.” Chiefly to the
lady, of course, etc., etc.

In the earliest times musical instruments seem to have been played
chiefly by men, and women sang without accompaniment. But later,
female, as well as male, voices combined with all sorts of instruments.
There were kettle-drums, round and square, harps, lyres, guitars,
flutes or pipes, and lastly, specially Egyptian, the sistrum,
not melodious in sound we may judge, but used chiefly, though
not invariably in, the service of the gods. Wilkinson gives many
illustrations of these various instruments, and the picture of a lady
with a guitar is in the Berlin museum. The flute, so easily handled,
has always seemed to be reserved for male performers. Perhaps it takes
too much breath from the ladies, or perhaps Minerva, having discovered
that it was unbecoming, they have all resolved to shun it.

Pollard speaks of a harp inlaid with gold, silver and gems, which
had been presented by a royal personage to the temple of Amen-Ra and
was kept near the sanctuary, and of the hymns sung to the deity to
the accompaniment of this precious instrument. We also have the song
of a harper found on the wall of the tomb of a certain Nefer-hotep,
who lived under King Horus, of the Eighteenth Dynasty. It is called
“the word of the harper, who tarries in the tomb of Osiris,” etc.
“Celebrate the great day, O prophet. Well is to thee fragrant resin
and ointments are laid before thee. Here are wreaths and flowers for
the vases and shoulders of thy sister, who is pleasant to thy heart,
as she rests beside thee. Let us then sing and strike the harp in thy
presence. Leave all cares behind and think of the joys, until the day
of the voyage comes when man casts anchor on the land which delights in
silence.”

To rejoice and to dance were synonymous terms, and the royal ladies had
dancing women to perform before them as well as gymnasts. They played
draughts and checkers sitting on the ground, while dice belonged to the
subsequent Roman period.

Dwarfs and deformed persons formed, occasionally, part of the king’s
or queen’s household. As a rule dancing seems to have been rather
for princesses to look upon than share in, unless they danced in the
temples before the gods.

Female dancers wore short skirts, necklets, anklets, ribbons round
their bodies and wreaths of flowers, with plain wigs that made them
look like children, and they sometimes dressed their hair to look
like a crown. Ball playing was considered a variety of dancing. The
dances of the older period were more quiet and measured than in later
times, but none appear to have been objectionable, according to modern
standards, to the extent of some now practiced in the East.

The maids of honor and princesses carried fans, which they held over
the queen, and bore the title of “dearest friend.” When the queen and
royal ladies drove forth, it was in chariots, sometimes of gold, and
drawn by a pair of horses (after the introduction into Egypt of that
valuable animal, of which there is no representation on the monuments
of the very earliest times), adorned with plumes, while an umbrella was
occasionally fixed to the chariot to protect them from the sun.

But the queen’s highest position was as priestess, concubine, daughter,
wife, of the god. Egyptian queens or princesses held the service of
Amon or Jove and the queen followed in the king playing on the sistrum
and making offerings. No queen held the highest priestly office,
but they were called “singers of Amon,” and “wives of the god.”
Occasionally the mummy of the daughter will be found among the priests,
the mother among the royalties.

The queen was “Neter-Hemt, prophetess,” “Neter-hemet, divine wife,” or
“Neter-tut, divine handmaid.” The sistrum was from eight to eighteen
inches in length, Hathor-headed, cow-eared, and sometimes inlaid with
silver or gilt and the noise was supposed to frighten away Typho, the
spirit of evil. The action of shaking was called “Art Ses.” A sistrum
in either hand standing before the altar of the god, the queen had
reached the highest pinnacle of human greatness or human ambition.




CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST.

PERSIAN QUEENS.


With the conquests of Cambyses Egypt became subject to a new set of
rulers, by whom its manners and customs were, in a degree, changed or
modified. Yet such are its inherent characteristics that it has been
often said of Egypt, as of Greece, that she rather impressed herself
upon her masters, than was impressed by them. Through the Persian
period, to that of the Ptolemies, women retired into the background,
and no one name comes into prominence, at least in an official
character. It is in connection with Persia rather than with Egypt
that we learn of the queens, some, perhaps most of whom, remained in
their own land, while their husbands were absent, engaged in wars and
conquests. The kings, distracted by wars in all directions, often made
hurried visits to their conquered territories, leaving satraps and
deputies to rule in their absence. The legal queen, we may believe,
tarried at home, while the warriors left their women behind or were
accompanied by their concubines, to whom no formal honors were paid.

Hence it is more than possible that although nominally queens of Egypt
but few of them ever resided in the country, those of the kings who
reigned longest, of course, being most likely to do so. The Persian
kings usually chose their wives from among their own nobility, the
concubines were of varied nationality.

In thinking of these royal ladies we seem to see a veiled figure, with
beautiful shining eyes, wandering among the gardens of the palaces,
which gardens were said to be less formally laid out than those of the
native Egyptians, but she is silent. Or behind palace walls we hear the
echo of distant music, and perchance the sound of soft singing, to the
accompaniment of a lute, or some other instrument. If she looked forth
from her windows it was from behind curtains and lattice work, and if
she appeared in public it was with a veiled countenance, only the eyes
showing.

The ruins at Persepolis, Ecbatana, the capital of Media, and Suza
acquaint us with the construction of Persian palaces, which differ
somewhat from the Egyptian. When in Egypt the Persian kings probably
accepted, to a considerable extent, the architecture and general
arrangements of that country. Madame Ragozin gives us, from an earlier
source, an account of the palace built by Darius, at Persepolis. “A
central hall flanked by two sets of apartments, of four rooms each,
with a front entrance, composed of a door and four windows, opening on
a porch, supported by four columns, and forming at the same time the
landing between the two flights of stairs,” such the ruins disclose.
“The throne and audience hall, the reception and banqueting hall,
was two hundred and twenty-seven feet every way, with cedar and
cypress beams upborne by a hundred columns ten rows of ten, tall and
slender, they rested lightly on their inverted flower base, carrying
the raftered ceilings proudly and with ease on the strong, bent necks
of the animals which adorned their capitals, of that peculiarly and
matchless fanciful type which is the most distinctive feature of
Akhaemenian architecture.”

The king’s throne was supported by rows of warriors and he wore the
flowing Median garb, or the tight-fitting Persian doublet and hose.
The master of ceremonies kept his hand before his mouth, and all
who approached kept their hands hidden in their sleeves in token of
peaceful intentions. The remains of the palace of Xerxes, the Ahasuerus
of the Bible, have also been found, similar to, but not so fine as,
those of Darius. The buildings were usually of one story and set on a
terrace or platform, sometimes made of columns. Of the Great Hall of
Xerxes Mr. Fergusson says: “We have no cathedral in England that at all
comes near it in dimensions; nor indeed in France and Germany is there
one that covers so much ground. Cologne comes nearest.”

Of the women’s appointed place we read:

    “Between the porphyry pillars that upheld
      The rich moresque-work of the roof of gold
    Aloft the Haram’s curtained galleries rise
    Where through the silken net-work glancing eyes,
    From time to time, like sudden gleams that glow
    Through autumn clouds, shine on the pomp below.”

The gardens attached to the palaces we may well believe favorite
resorts of the queen and her attendant ladies. Shaded paths, sparkling
fountains, retired resting places and beds ablaze with flowers, all
these made a charming retreat. In the midst was usually a hall, kiosk
or arbor, raised on several steps, a fountain in the centre making a
musical murmur and spreading coolness around. It was enclosed with
gilded lattices over which rioted in careless grace vines of jassamine,
honeysuckle and other creepers—a fair green wall overhung and protected
by tall trees. Here, too, doubtless the king enjoyed some of his hours
of leisure, wrapped about with the perfume of violets and sipping a
sherbet of violets and sugar, a favorite drink in Persia. We learn
of a “Betel-carrier and Taster of Sherbets to the Emperor.” Lest
poison might secretly be prepared for the royal palate it was always
necessary to have a taster, the first victim in case of evil intent.
To this other duties were added such as “Chief Holder of the Girdle
of Beautiful Forms and Grand Nazir or Chamberlain of the Harem.”
King Canute sat on the brink of the ocean and ordered it to come no
further; King Darius or Xerxes laid a similar prohibition on the waxing
proportions of his spouse—neither perhaps was strictly obeyed by Dame
Nature. At least it appears to have been the duty of the “Holder of
the Girdle of Beautiful Forms” to do what he could—“Permit me, most
gracious Lady. Alas, one inch beyond the line of beauty!” Subsequently
perhaps starvation and tears to insure return to the stipulated measure.

Costly materials rather than shape were prized by the Persians, and
their ornaments were less ornate and elaborate than those of the
Egyptians; rings and bracelets were of plain gold, collars of twisted
gold, but comparatively unartificial. Their household utensils too seem
to have been few and simple in pattern, a covered dish and a goblet
with an inverted saucer over it are often pictured in the hands of the
royal attendants. Occasionally, but rarely, we hear of Persian women
indulging in manly sports, as Roxane, daughter of Idernes, and half
sister of Terituchmes was skilled in the use of the bow and the javelin.

The queen mother, when the widow of the late king, took precedence of
her daughter-in-law, the wife of the reigning monarch, had certain
privileges, peculiar to herself, was attended by a band of eunuchs and
dined with her son in the women’s apartment. Though not nominally in
public life her influence was often very great and at times used or
abused most cruelly.

As in the earlier times, certain cities in Egypt were assigned to
furnish the revenues of the queen, and that of Anthylla was appointed
to provide her with shoes. This must also, it would seem, have applied
to the females of her household, as a single pair of feet, even though
royal, could have been but a slight tax on the revenues of a town.

To return to the thread of history which we are following. King Apries
was overthrown and succeeded by Amasis, who, usurper though he was,
seems to have reigned long and well. The date given for the close of
the reign of Apries is B. C. 579, and Amasis ruled for forty-five
years; his son Psammetic III had been on the throne but a few months
when Cambyses conquered Egypt.

Syria appears to have been held by Egypt during the Eighteenth and
Nineteenth Dynasties, while later Egypt disputed its possession with
Assyria, and lastly the Ptolemies and Califs ruled it from Egypt.
But the Egypt of which we now make study was no longer a country
united under one head and going forth to conquer and demand tribute
from surrounding nations. She was alternately divided under the
sovereignty of a number of petty kings or ground under the heel of some
all-conquering but more or less temporary master. Wars and internal
dissentions were constant, with now and then a longer period of
comparative peace and tranquility, in which the country had breathing
space to recover from the desolation and ruin that had preceded it.

The Persians, numbered as the Twenty-seventh Dynasty, came in as
masters who desired rather to trample upon than conciliate their
subjects. They outraged the sensibilities and prejudices of the people,
and, it is said, that the arts, long in decline, received a severe
blow from their invasion, while many of the finest buildings in Egypt
were mutilated and destroyed by Cambyses, hence revolts against the
new authority were frequent. Cambyses himself appears to have acted
at times like a cruel madman, and whether the story of his stabbing
the revered Apis bull be true or not, and, like all old stories, its
authenticity is sometimes disputed, the incident is but an illustration
of the general course which he pursued.

He was son of Cyrus the Great, King of Persia, said to be the grandson
of the Median King Astyages, and his mother was said by Ctesias to be
Amytias and, by Herodotus, to be Cassandane or Kassomdane, daughter of
Pharnespes, a member of the royal family, who died before her husband.
Cambyses was in every way inferior to his father. The children of this
marriage were two sons and three daughters, the sons Cambyses and
Smerdis, the daughters Atossa, Roxana and Artystone.

Cyrus left his kingdom to his elder son, but placed so much power also
in the hands of the younger that Cambyses caused his brother to be
secretly murdered that his rights might be undisputed. Following the
Egyptian custom, or setting up a law for himself, since it does not
seem to have been the habit of the Persian monarchs, he married his two
sisters, Atossa and Roxana. The Persian judges said it was not lawful
for a man to marry his sister, but the king could of course do as he
pleased. The unfortunate Roxana excited the fury of this monster by
mourning for her brother Smerdis, and is said also to have been killed
by Cambyses with a kick. A Greek inscription at Behistan affirms that
Smerdis was murdered before Cambyses started for Egypt; that the latter
committed suicide in the end; that the rebellion was a religious one,
and that the Magian was not Smerdis but Gomates, and the discovery of
the imposture is not as generally given. Other authorities claim that
Smerdis was murdered by Cambyses’ orders during his absence, but the
affair seems much involved in mystery.

Cambyses adopted as his Horus name “Horus, the Unifier of Two Lands,”
and styled himself “Born of Ra.” For a third wife he took Nitetis,
daughter of the Previous Egyptian king, Apries, but sent to him as the
daughter of Amasis, the reigning monarch. Upon this deception, it is
asserted, hinged the invasion of Egypt. There seems to be a discrepancy
in dates, some holding that Nitetis would have been too old a bride
for Cambyses, and therefore it must have been Cyrus that took her to
wife, and that Cambyses was her son rather than her husband. But this
tale is believed to be of Egyptian origin, made up to remove from their
shoulders the stigma of being merely a conquered people and set up a
pretence that Cambyses had some legal right to the throne by descent
from an Egyptian princess.

Another tale is thus given by Herodotus. A Persian woman visited
the harem of King Cyrus, was struck with the beauty of the children
of Cassadane and praised them greatly to their mother. “Yet would
you believe it,” said Cassadane, “Cyrus neglects me, the mother of
such children as these, to pay honor to an Egyptian interloper!” On
this Cambyses, her eldest son, a boy of ten years of age, exclaimed:
“Therefore, mother, when I am a man, I will turn Egypt upside down!”
Which threat, if ever made by him, was most surely fulfilled.

Supposing Nitetis to have been the grand-daughter, rather than the
daughter of Apries, the dates become more intelligible. It is this
period of history that Ebers has selected for his romance of an
“Egyptian Princess,” which, like all his historical novels, if lacking
perhaps great vitality in the individual characters, has a carefully
studied and interesting ground work of historical fact. The truth or
the tradition, which ever it be, runs thus: Amassis, King of Egypt,
sent by request to the King of Persia, suffering with some trouble
of the eyes, his special oculist. The physician, resentful of long
ostracism from home and friends, suggested to his patron that he should
demand in marriage the daughter of the Egyptian king. The plan was
proposed not in good faith, but with a desire to make trouble.

Perhaps the reputation of Cambyses was already evil and well known.
At any rate, the proposal produced consternation rather than joy and
satisfaction in the circle of the bride-elect. Possibly Amasis held
with special tenderness the daughter in question. Be this as it may,
he sent not the princess demanded, but one who was probably considered
of inferior dignity. Doubtless she went adorned in regal splendor that
the deception might not be suspected. Her finger tips would have been
tinged with henna to look like branches of coral; she would perhaps
wear the Persian head dress, composed of a light golden chain work set
with small pearls, with a thin gold plate pendant about the size of a
crown piece on which was impressed an Arabian prayer and which hung
upon the cheek below the ear. The kohl’s jetty dye would give that
“long, dark, languish to the eye.” A small coronet of jewels would be
placed upon her head and over all a rosy veil. The veils the Eastern
women wore over the head were coquettishly managed to add to their
attractions. Says the poet in “Lalla Rooke”:

    “Veiled by such a mask as shades
    The features of young Arab maids,
    A mask that leaves but one eye free
    To do its best in witchery.”

The Arab women wear black masks prettily disposed, and Niebuhr mentions
their showing but one eye in conversation, and again says Moore:

    “And bright the glancing looks they hide
    Beneath their litters roseate veils.”

So Nitetis, hardly a happy bride, was wedded to the Persian king, and
“nightingales warbled their enchanting notes and rent the thin veils
of the rosebud and the rose,” according to a favorite image of the
Oriental poets. But not joy, peace and happiness resulted—rather wars
and bloodshed. Perhaps in innocence, perhaps in malice, the new queen
revealed the secret of her identity to the king. Since he did not put
her to death we may believe that she herself had some attractions for
him, but the deception he would not forgive and seized upon it, only
too gladly, as a pretext for invading Egypt.

Across the desert which protected Egypt on the northeast marched
Cambyses and his army, while his fleet, supplied by the Phoenician
cities and the Greeks of Asia Minor, blockaded the Egyptian king
(Psammetic III, only recently come to the throne) in Memphis. The
herald was sent in a Greek vessel to demand surrender. The Egyptians,
with mad and cruel folly, courting their own destruction, since such
an act would be sure to infuriate the invader, seized the ship and
tore the crew to pieces. If not before, from that moment their doom
was sealed. Cambyses took Memphis, B. C. 525, on the pyramid plain,
where later Napoleon bade his soldiers do their best, for the Centuries
looked down upon them. It is said that Cambyses put cats and other
sacred animals before his troops so that the Egyptians were afraid
to attack. Be this as it may, the Persians obtained the mastery, and
Cambyses took his revenge on Amasis for the affront offered him by
causing his dead body to be burned.

One cannot help thinking of the homely phrase, “Give a dog a bad name,”
in connection with this ancient king, all the ruin that occurred for
hundreds of years seems set down to the credit of Cambyses, who, with
the most evil intent in the world, could hardly have accomplished all
that was claimed for him. He is said to have left nothing unburnt in
Thebes that fire would consume. “An earthquake and Cambyses,” says
Curtis, “divide the shame of the partial destruction of Memnon.” An
old inscription at the base of the statue reads: “I write after having
heard Memnon. Cambyses has wounded me, a stone cut into the image of
the sun king. I had once the sweet voice of Memnon, but Cambyses has
deprived me of the accents which express joy and grief.”

Tradition also says that Cambyses threw down the magnificent statues
set up to adorn the temple of victory, built by Seti I at old Quernah,
yet Pliny has preserved a story that the same king was so struck by
the beauty of a certain statue that he ordered the flames which he had
kindled extinguished at its base.

It is probable that all his other crimes paled into insignificance in
the eyes of the Egyptians before his murder of their sacred bull. For
this his memory would have been execrated forever had it been his only
deed of violence. But whereas the Persians spoke of Cyrus as “Father”
they called Cambyses “Despot” or “Master”; ferocity and cruelty seemed
to distinguish most of his actions.

Both the hawk and the bull appeared as emblems of royalty and divinity
among the Egyptians from the earliest times. But the bull was also
highly regarded in Assyria, India and among other ancient nations.
The hawk was sacred to the sun, the Apis bull, the living image of
Osiris, the incarnation of a source of life and creative energy. Upon
this animal, so revered and worshipped, Cambyses dared to lay what was
deemed a sacrilegious hand; in the eyes of his new subjects he could
have committed no greater crime. Says one writer: “At Memphis the Apis
bull was bred, nurtured and honored with all the devotion that Asiatic
superstition lavished upon the representative of their miscalled
deities.”

It was said of the god Apis that “his glory was sought for in all
Egypt,” and an inscription reads: “He was found after some months in
the city of Ho-shed-abot. He was solemnly introduced into the temple
of Ptah, beside his father, the Memphian god Phthah of the South
Wall by the high priest in the temple of Phthah, the great prince of
the Mashuash Petise, the son of the high priest of Memphis and great
prince of the Mashuash, Takelut and of the princess of royal race,
Thes-bast-per.”

The priests would search through the land for the new Apis, which must
have certain marks upon it. The rules required that the young bull
should be black, with a white triangle on his forehead, the likeness
of a vulture on his back, a crescent moon on his side, two kinds of
hair in his tail and an excrescence under his tongue like the sacred
beetle. Naturally it took a long time to find just such an animal, and
the time between the death of one and the finding of another was kept
as a period of fasting and mourning. It is said that when the old Apis
outlived twenty-five years he was quietly drowned by the priests, and
the bodies of the dead bulls were embalmed and buried with royal honors
in tombs in the desert. When the new bull was found it was a period of
great rejoicing. The mother and calf were brought to the temple and
housed with all honor and regard. The bull was consulted as an oracle
by offering it food, and the omen was favorable or the reverse, as it
accepted or refused it. This doubtless gave opportunity to the priests
and care-takers to direct the matter as they saw fit. A hungry bull
would be much more apt to give a favorable response, as one may well
perceive than an already satiated one.

Memphis, the “City of the White Wall” which was to the Greeks as Cairo
is to us now, the typical Oriental city, was especially celebrated for
its worship of Apis or Hapi and was selected for its residence because
one of the limbs of Osiris, killed by Typhon, the evil spirit, were
found there. One pauses to wonder at the curious mingling of power
and powerlessness which the ancients attributed to their gods. Proof
against all dangers and performing miracles of all sorts they yet at
times, even the very greatest of them, suffered and “died like men.”

Thus the sacred bull, selected by certain particular marks and
guarded and cared for with special reverence, was looked upon as the
incarnation of the god. It is in the Serapium (or bulls’ burying
place), a word regarded as a contraction of Osiris-Apis, that various
tablets and inscriptions were found which give the chief dates and
information which we possess as regards the reigns of certain kings.
The records of the Apis bulls are more complete than the Mnevis bulls,
and he is spoken of as “a fair and beautiful image of the soul of
Osiris.”

It was upon this adored treasure that Cambyses cruelly and unwisely
vented his evil temper. After the conquest of Egypt he again engaged
in other aggressive wars and, returning unsuccessful from one of
his expeditions against Nubia and even more morose and ill-natured
than usual, he found the people celebrating one of their religious
festivals, and, thinking, or pretending to think, that they were
deriding him and rejoicing at his ill-success, he poured out the viols
of his wrath. “Oh stupid mortals!” he exclaimed. “Are these your gods?
Creatures of flesh and blood and sensible to the touch of steel!” and
he caused the sacred bull to be brought forth and stabbed it in the
thigh and put several of the priests to death.

One of the most interesting events of modern times was the discovery
by Mariette of the long lost Serapeum in 1850. The temple had been
described by Strabo, but the lapse of years and the drifting sands of
the desert had obliterated it from memory and hidden it from sight.
Wandering in the neighborhood of the Step Pyramid of Sakkarah, the
oldest in the world, believed to have been erected only eighty years
after the time of Menes, this noted archaeologist stumbled against an
object which proved to be the head of a sphinx, and immediately the
description of Strabo came into his mind. At once, with characteristic
patience and determination, he set his men to work and had the immense
satisfaction after innumerable difficulties of discovering the avenue
of sphinxes which led to the Serapeum and the buried temple itself. It
extended 640 feet into the solid rock, with long galleries, sixty-four
vaulted chambers on either side and a vaulted roof twenty feet high,
while the breadth of the gallery was about the same. In one chamber he
discovered the Apis, who died in the sixtieth year of Rameses II, so
fresh and undisturbed did this seem that the finger marks could be seen
on the walls and footprints in the sand. A human mummy, which Mariette
at first took to be an Apis, was also discovered, and proved by the
inscription to be that of the favorite son of Rameses II Kha-em-uas,
high priest of the temple of Ptah and governor of Memphis. The body
was covered with jewels, gold chains and amulets, precious and gold
washed, all of which are now in the Louvre. Huge granite sarcophagi
were discovered in twenty-four cells, bearing the name of the king on
the throne at the time the Apis was buried. The most recent mummies
discovered were from the time of Psammetichus II of the Twenty-sixth
Dynasty, 660 B. C., to a Ptolemy Dynasty 500 years later.

At certain periods the votaries of Serapis celebrated festivals in
the temple and recorded them on votive tablets, which were found in
the galleries of the Serapeum. From these we gather that the reign of
Psammetichus was brief; that there were six kings of the Twenty-sixth
Dynasty, 666 B. C.; that following Psammetichus I came Necho II, in
the sixteenth year of whose reign an Apis was born. That another was
installed in the temple of Ptah in the first year of the reign of
Psamettic II; that an Apis died in the twelfth year of Apries, and that
this king was succeeded by Amasis and Psammetic III.

Unable to carry away all of his finds to place them in greater security
in various museums, Mariette buried some of them temporarily near the
spot, which Miss Edwards says was betrayed and sold by the Arabs to a
certain Austrian arch-duke, who took possession and carried them to
Trieste. Among them was said to be the bull stabbed by Cambyses, while
in the rooms of the New York Historical Society the same, or very
similar, mummy of an Apis is to be seen. Whether the wound of the bull
proved fatal and he was secretly buried by the priests, or whether
he survived till the fourth year of Darius’ reign, as the Serapeum
tablets seem to indicate, is a mooted point. Ne-chatano, a subsequent
and native Egyptian king, is believed to have rebuilt or restored the
Serapeum in 350 B. C. One tablet in the collection records the death of
an Apis in the sixth year of Cambyses.

But the reign of this cruel king at last came to an end. A revolt took
place in Persia, the murdered Smerdis was represented by an imposter,
who for some time deceived the people, and Cambyses, hastening home,
either died or, some say, committed suicide by stabbing himself with
his dagger, so runs the legend, while mounting a horse in the same
place as he had wounded the bull. It was the custom of the Egyptian
women to go two days in the week to the tombs of their dead and to
throw upon them a sweet smelling herb, like basil, but for Cambyses
we can imagine no such mourning was made. The world was well rid of a
monster, and even his wives must have felt that they were freed from
the tyrant. Custom permitted the Persian king to have several legal
wives, but one only was the legal queen. Atossa probably occupied
this position. Her experiences in husbands were varied and her charms
probably great.

Magus, by others called Gomates, personated the dead Smerdis or Bardiya
and took Cambyses’ wives, but kept them in separate establishments
that his secret might not be discovered. The story goes that for some
previous crime the ears of the impostor had been cut off, but that he
covered the place with his hair. In his sleep, however, one of his
wives, the daughter of Otanes, suspecting his impersonation, passed her
hand over his head, and thus his fraud was made public. In the end he
was slain by Darius, a member of the royal family, who now laid claim
to the throne and proved to be an excellent sovereign.

He again took Queen Atossa to wife, and her influence over him is
said to have been unbounded, and she became the mother of Xerxes,
who succeeded him. She survived Salamis and was actually, in part,
contemporary with Herodotus, from whom we derive the information
regarding her so numerous marriages. Cyrus had one legal wife, Cambyses
three and Darius five.

His wives are given as first a daughter of Gobryas, whose children were
Artabazanes, and two others—Atossa, by whom he had Xerxes; Hystaspes,
Akhaemenes and Masistes; Arystone, by whom he had Arsames and Gobryas;
Parmys, by whom he had Ariomardas, and, lastly, Phrataguma, by whom he
had Abrocome and Hyperanthe.

Darius seems to have been the one Persian king beloved by the
Egyptians, towards whom he showed himself in great contrast to his
predecessor, most considerate and regardful, associating with the
priests and studying their theology. During his lifetime he was called
a god by the Egyptians and he is the only Persian king whose name is
accompanied with a titular shield and whose phonetic shield bears the
crest of the vulpauser and disk ‘son of the sun.’ The only one whose
phonetic name is accompanied by a pre-nomen, like those of the ancient
kings. He obtained while living the title of “Divus” and received,
after death, the same honors as the native Egyptian sovereigns, of
the earlier centuries. On an ornament of porcelain in the museum at
Florence he is called “beneficent god.” He is even represented in
sculpture as worshipping the Egyptian god Athor, and the mummy of
Osiris, with the lighted lamp, the emblem of fire (the great divinity
of Persia) in each hand. But in spite of this another authority states
that no Persian king’s name is found on a public monument in Egypt.

When the Persian kings were present in Egypt comparative peace reigned,
but, when they left the government in the hands of deputies, revolts
were numerous. Darius put his satrap Aryandes to death for presuming
to coin money; he being so distasteful to the Egyptians that they were
on the point of revolt when Darius returned. But spite of the personal
popularity of Darius the Persian yoke was hateful to the Egyptians, and
when the king’s back was once turned, his presence withdrawn, and he
became involved in other wars, they again rose against the invaders.

While preparing to crush Egypt Darius died, leaving the task to Xerxes,
his son by the beloved Atossa. His first wife had been a daughter
of Gobryas and her son, older than Xerxes, would naturally have,
succeeded, but Artobazanes had been born before his father became king,
and this fact, coupled doubtless with the paramount influence of Queen
Atossa, decided the question in favor of Xerxes, who had been born
after his father ascended the throne.

For the few succeeding dynasties the balance of power swung between
the native rulers and their Persian conquerors, Xerxes or Khshaiarsha,
whose wife was named Amestris, reconquered Egypt in the second year of
his reign, and increased its burdens. He also seems to have made love
to the wife of his brother Masistes and to her daughter, the wife of
his son Darius, and because Xerxes gave this daughter-in-law Artaynte,
for whom he had an unlawful affection, a beautiful mantle, woven by
his wife Amestris, the queen had the mother of her rival most cruelly
mutilated. Xerxes was himself subsequently murdered, apparently a not
undeserved fate.

Under Artaxerxes his son, who succeeded, B. C. 465, the Egyptians
again threw off the hated yoke, but after various vicissitudes were
reconquered. This prince was said to be largely under the influence of
his mother Amestris and his sister Amytir, both women of ill-regulated
lives. His only legal wife was Damaspia, but he had many children by
his concubines. Several native rulers who reigned briefly and were
murdered in succession, came next. Then we have Darius II, previously
called Ochus, and subsequently Nothus, said to be one of the seventeen
illegitimate sons of Artaxerxes I, who married Paraysatis, daughter
of Xerxes I. Darius II reigned nineteen years and was followed by
Artaxerxes II, said to be the last Persian king who left any memorial
of himself in Egypt. He styled himself “Beloved of Amen-Ra,” and
“Beautiful god, lord of the two lands.”

During this period the Egyptians associated themselves with the
Athenians and Amyrtaeus, a descendant of the Saite kings, ruled for
a period of six years. He is sometimes considered identical with
a certain Amen-rut and a portion of the coffin of his daughter,
Ar-Bast-utchat-nifu, is in the Berlin museum, but that the two are the
same king is questioned by others. Amyrtaeus was deemed of sufficient
importance, however, to be counted as the Twenty-eighth Dynasty, but we
find no mention of his queen.

Nepherites is given as the only king of the Twenty-ninth Dynasty,
from Mendes, and reigned some years, but again we learn nothing of
the queen. Akhoris or Haker was first king of the Thirtieth Dynasty,
he repaired various temples, and his name is found in several places.
Several unimportant kings followed, one authority says that the
revolt of the Medes permitted the authority of the Egyptian king
Hakis, Akhorus or Achorus, of whom we have made mention, and of whom
some memorials are found here and there, and a sphinx in Paris bears
his name. The kings who succeeded are regarded as of little moment,
Nectanebus I is frequently considered the next king and he succeeded
in keeping the authority in his hands, some say ten, some eighteen
years. He seems to have been capable both as a soldier and a ruler,
and somewhat revived the pomp which had been so characteristic of the
earlier kings. He built some temples and shrines and repaired many of
the important ones, and his name appears in various places. An obelisk
cut by this king (whose name occurs at Philae), but which was not
inscribed, was afterwards floated down the Nile by Ptolemy Philadelphus
and erected in honor of his sister in the Arsinoite home. The fine
stone lions once at the Fontane di Termine at Rome, but now placed in
the Egyptian Museum in the Vatican, are said to be the last piece of
Egyptian sculpture executed under native princes. He seems to have been
one of the few kings who defeated the Persians. Nectanebus II, who was
both a builder and a warrior, was the only other king of importance of
this dynasty.

Ochus, Artaxerxes III, of the Thirty-first Dynasty, out-heroded
Herod and led to the final collapse of the Persian power in Egypt.
He emulated and even surpassed Cambyses, causing the sacred bull not
only to be killed, but cooked and eaten at a feast. Darius Codomanus
was the last Persian king, and when Alexander came as conqueror of
these hated rulers the Egyptians made him welcome. He at once began a
conciliatory policy, sacrificed to Apis, built a temple to Isis, and
caused himself to be adopted by and proclaimed son of Zeus-Amon. He
remained some time, founded the city of Alexandria, placed rulers over
Egypt and departed from Memphis B. C. 331. Living he never again saw
the land, but his corpse was brought back from Babylon and deposited in
a sarcophagus in Alexandria.

The favorite stone of the Persian gem engravers was chalcedony, a
semi-transparent, white quartz, the blue variety of which is the
sapphire and on this one sometimes finds engraved the head of a Persian
king.




CHAPTER TWENTY-SECOND.

ROXANE.


The Persian yoke had become so intolerable to the Egyptians that they
were prepared to accept any other conqueror with positive enthusiasm,
and the Macedonian Alexander and his followers were welcomed rather as
friends than as enemies and hated masters.

The colossal empire created by the splendid military audacity combined
with the judicious tolerance of Alexander the Great may be said to have
dropped to pieces by its own weight, and a comparatively few years
after his short career was ended, for he died at thirty-two, it had
been partitioned among his generals.

Roxane or Roxana, first or chief wife of Alexander, for he married
others later, could only in a theoretic sense be called Queen of Egypt,
as of other countries of which her husband was master. The mad rush
of battle and conquest left little time for the ostentatious display
of royalty. Alexander was rather a great general than a reigning king
intent upon the government and internal improvement of the various
countries under his sway. He seemed to have hardly time to place one
crown upon his head before he was fighting for another, and the outward
trappings of his office must have been military rather than royal.
There could have been little opportunity for his wife to realize the
grandeur of her position. Hence it was, in all probability, not till
after his death that Roxane, the queen, entered Egypt, and then it was
rather as a captive than as a reigning princess.

By a previous connection, not a legal marriage, with Barsine, widow of
Darius’ best Greek general, Memnon, Alexander had a son named Herakles,
who afterwards laid some claim to the kingdom, but it was Roxane, a
Bactrian princess, famed for her beauty, that he first made his lawful
wife. She was the daughter of Oxyartes, “who commanded the Sagdian
rock for Darius,” and on the reduction of this fortress, married the
conqueror.

We can picture to ourselves a beautiful mountain region, the mad onrush
of troops, the clang of arms, the brief delirium of a battle and then
a cessation of hostilities and the natural man seeking once more
excitement in amusement. It is said that it was at a feast or drinking
bout, where dancing was also going on, that Alexander first saw and at
once fell in love with the handsome Roxane, spoken of by one writer as
“of surpassing beauty and a grace rarely seen among barbarians.”

Alexander himself was a handsome man in the perfection of manhood. Born
356 B. C. he was twenty-nine years of age at the time of this marriage,
which is said to have united two strains of Indo-European blood. The
bride was probably much younger. Of him many likenesses, usually busts
or profiles on coins, exist. There is a bust of him in the British
Museum, a terra-cotta in Munich, and he appears as the sun-god in the
Capitoline Museum in Rome, as the Vernal-sun in a marble relief in
the Louvre, in Paris, beside other places and his head on the coins.
He was fair and ruddy, with finely cut features, an alert agreeable
expression, a look of power and intellect and a full eye which could
blaze with anger or melt into tenderness.

As opposites attract, and judging by the race from which she sprang
(Bactria was approximately the present Bokhara and “has no small claim
to be called the cradle of our present civilization”), we may believe
Roxane to have been dark as Alexander was fair. A soft yet brilliant
black or brown eye, raven tresses, ideal in feature and in form, and
endowed with every grace. Alexander had proved himself invulnerable
to many of the sex. The wife and daughter of Darius—women famed for
their good looks—were treated by him with a respect and indifference
to their charms unusual in such times and in such cases. He worshipped
the god of war rather than the god of love. But the fair Roxane proved
irresistible. He left her for a brief time and then returned and
married her. To be the bride of the conqueror, especially when he was
young and handsome, what more could any maiden desire? “None but the
brave deserve the fair,” physical courage was the most admired of all
the virtues, holding its place even in these latter days, and of that
Alexander had a large share, as well as of other lovable qualities,
impulsive, generous and large-minded, as he often showed himself. He
wore a great plume of white feathers on either side of his helmet which
made his ever a conspicuous object of the field of battle, yet he bore
a charmed life and escaped injury.

Cruel at times, he was still warm-hearted. Between his mother and
himself existed a strong affection, and in a quarrel between her
and his father, Philip, he took her side and fled with her. She
was the imperious, passionate and fanatical Olympias, daughter of
Neoptolemus, king of Epirus, to which country she returned with the
son who inherited some of her traits, and to whom she was passionately
attached. Plutarch gives many pleasant anecdotes of Alexander and
refers to the numerous letters he wrote to his mother and other
relatives and friends. He deprecated his mother’s interference with
matters of war and state, but bore her reproaches with patience, and
when Antipater wrote to him complaining of her he nobly replied, “One
tear of a mother effaces a thousand such letters as these.”

With Alexander the name of Cleopatra is introduced into Egypt, where it
was borne by a bewildering number of the subsequent royal family. His
father put away his mother and married a second wife of that name, and
to his sister Cleopatra, who married her uncle Alexander, her mother’s
brother, King of Epirus, he was, as well as to Olympias, warmly
attached.

The marriage of the conqueror with the native princess placated the
Bactrians and peace was restored. But the restless spirit of Alexander
know no pause—he could not stay to dally in the arms of his love, no
matter how beautiful, ambition was even a more powerful mistress and he
rushed onward to new conquests.

He had adopted a conciliatory policy towards the Jews, he showed
the same in Egypt. He sacrificed to the gods of the land, to Apis
in particular, in marked and acceptable contrast to the conduct of
Cambyses and Ochus, showed great favor to the priests and placed native
Egyptians in posts of honor and command. He made a journey into the
desert, a most difficult, hazardous and dangerous expedition, to visit
the oracle of Amon, and caused himself to be proclaimed son of the god,
with a curious mingling of faith in the oracle and deliberate adoption
of a policy which conduced to his own interest as well as to those of
the people whom he had conquered. He founded the city of Alexandria,
which alone might have made famous any single or ordinary man, in
addition to all else that he accomplished in his comparatively short
life. The old Naucrates yielded its trade to the new city and the port
of Canopus was closed, while Alexandria grew in splendor, importance
and intellectual prestige and became one of the renowned cities of the
world.

Separation and the life of constant excitement which he led may have
lessened the hold of Roxane upon Alexander’s affection and a sudden
passion for other women have overtaken him, but it is more probable
that motives of policy dictated his subsequent course.

At Suza occurred what was called “the great marriage of Europe and
Asia.” Planned by Alexander to celebrate his victories and perhaps to
hasten the return of peace and good-will. He took to wife Statira,
daughter of Darius, and some authorities say, also Parysatis, daughter
of Ochus, brother of Darius and one of the last Persian kings of Egypt.
He coerced or persuaded his officers to follow his example, and not one
but many marriages were then performed.

So intent was Alexander on his purpose that he put a premium on such
connections and promised to pay the debts of those who would take
Persian wives. At this time Ptolemy, later king of Egypt, was united
to a certain princess Aatakama, daughter of Artabanes, of whom we
find no further mention, suggesting that these enforced unions were
not lasting, and were perhaps regarded by their principals as a
mere spectacular performance, or even a comedy. These nuptials were
celebrated with great magnificence the banqueting hall was laid with
tables for numberless guests and was gorgeously decorated. Pillars of
gold and silver, set with jewels, upheld the awning above, and nothing
that Eastern luxury could suggest was spared to embellish the feast.
According to the Persian custom a row of armchairs was placed for the
bridegrooms and one beside each for the brides, who came in procession,
fair to look upon, in beautiful and shining garments, enhanced by all
the appliances of the toilette, and took each her place beside her lord.

It was a marriage of fatal import to all concerned. We can imagine
the jealous passion aroused in the breast of Roxane at the sight or
report of all this, doubtless in striking contrast with her own simple
nuptials, jeopardizing as it did the right of succession which might
be claimed by her own children, yet unborn. Perchance the new queen
added fuel to the flame by a haughty demeanor, a half-concealed or
openly expressed contempt for the barbarian chief’s daughter who had
preceded her. Be this as it may, Roxane rested not till, with the aid
of Perdiccas, one of Alexander’s generals, she had her put to death.
The story goes that after Alexander was dead she sent a forged letter
to Statira, either as coming from him or with purport that he was still
alive and got Queen Statira into her power and caused both her and her
sister, perhaps the before-mentioned Parysatis, to be murdered and
their bodies thrown into a well and covered with earth. Having thus
disposed of a hated rival, she rested in fancied security, but her own
destruction eventually avenged this cruel deed.

The life of Alexander, lived too fast, and with little regard perhaps
either to the laws of health or morality, came to a speedy close. He
died 323 B. C. Either ignorant of or indifferent to the approaching
birth of a child of his own, he is said to have left his kingdom to
“the worthiest,” or some say “the strongest”—the first a person far to
seek in the midst of such a grasping blood-thirsty throng. Some months
after Alexander’s death Roxane bore a son, who was named Alexander
Aegus, and the infant, in conjunction with Alexander’s natural brother
Philip Arridaeus, apparently a man of weak intellect, were nominally
kings, under the regency of Perdicas, or Perdikkas, one of Alexander’s
most prominent generals. No such giant succeeded the heroic figure,
almost that of a demi-god, whose life had just closed, and the
conglomerate kingdom which he had created fell into numerous fragments
or divisions.

Roxane evidently could play the part of a Margaret of Anjou and her
subsequent history is but a pitiful tale. She and her son fell into the
power of the generals, who, like vultures, settled upon their prey.
No noble emotion of protecting the helpless stirred in their breasts.
It was a period of the world’s history in which weakness courted its
own destruction. “Might was right,” a theory not altogether known in
modern times, was the general rule of existence and some years after
Alexander’s death Roxane and the young Alexander were put out of the
way to make room for the grasp of stronger hands than those of a woman
and child.

At first the spoilers called themselves Satraps, but eventually
claimed or accepted the title of king. Ptolemy took Egypt; Seleucus,
Babylon and Syria; Antigonus, Asia Minor, and Antipater, Macedon,
later conquered by descendants of Antigonus; Lysimachus took Thrace;
Leonatus, Phrygia; and Eumenes, Cappadocia.

Alexander Aegus, like Caesarion, son of Cleopatra VI of Egypt, was
never allowed to succeed his father, but his life was cut short in
youth. Mother and child were simply used as pawns on the great chess
board of kings and when their existence interfered with the designs
of those in power they were disposed of. The then known world was in
a tumult, war was the order of the times, peace almost unknown. The
uprising and overthrow of one power and of one individual after another
was continuous, the pages of history were stained with the blood, alike
of the guilty and the innocent.

The years succeeding the death of Alexander must have been ones of
anxiety, if not of absolute terror to Roxane, and the possibility of a
violent death for herself and her child could not but have suggested
itself to her. Nominally wife and mother of a king, she enjoyed little
of the pleasures of state, but was hurried here and there and from camp
to camp with scant ceremony. A possession too valuable to those who
held her to let her go and in the end too valuable to keep.

The disposal of Alexander’s body was a matter of dispute. A counsel of
officers decreed that it should be buried in the Oasis of Amon, where
Alexander had been adopted by the god; Perdikhas wished that it should
be laid with the ancient Macedonian kings, while Ptolemy was determined
that it should rest in Alexandria, the new city. Ptolemy triumphed
and the sarcophagus of gold remained there for some time; we do not
know how long. Diodorus says “a coffin of beaten gold was provided, so
wrought by the hammer as to answer the proportion of the body. It was
half filled with aromatic spices, which served as well to delight the
senses as to preserve the body from putrefaction. Over the coffin was
a cover of gold, so exactly fitted as to answer the higher part every
way. Over this was thrown a curious purple coat, near to which were
placed the arms of the deceased, that the whole might represent the
acts of his life.” This was placed on a magnificent chariot adorned
with figures, symbolic designs, arches, floral designs in gold and
funerary urns, an absorbing spectacle to the people. It seems almost
strange that so much honor was paid to the body of Alexander, so little
to his very flesh and blood.

This settlement of the place of burial brought on a conflict with the
regent who came to Egypt, bringing King Philip and his wife Euridike
and Alexander IV and his mother Roxane, perhaps her first visit to
a land where she had been nominally queen. Perdikhas acted in his
treatment of soldiers and enemies with great cruelty, Ptolemy with a
marked clemency, and the cavalry of the former rose up and murdered
him. Ptolemy was then offered the regency and the charge of the royal
princes. But he was a cautious and far-seeing man and content with
what he had already secured—the mastership of Egypt—firmly declined
so dangerous a responsibility. The regency was then conferred upon or
seized by Antipator, and new distributions and divisions of ownership
ensued.

A mother and sister of Alexander, Olympias and Cleopatra, had raised a
faction against Antipator and divided the government between them. A
firm believer in “women’s rights” were these ancient and warlike dames;
rights in which there should be no distinction of sex, yet as ever the
weaker went to the wall. Cleopatra, it is said, lived a royal widow
at Sardis, wooed by all the world—a woman doubtless of beauty, as she
showed herself of vigor and capacity. She would have married Perdikhas
or Leonatus, who had died, but spurned the rest. Like England’s Queen
Elizabeth, she had many suitors. At last to escape Antigonas she
agreed to marry Ptolemy, and thereby secured her own destruction, for
Antigonas could not contemplate a union which might prove so injurious
to himself and had her secretly murdered. Some one seems always to have
stood ready for the commission of such deadly crimes. But to throw dust
in the eyes of the people Antigonas gave her a magnificent funeral and
proceeded against the woman who had been instrumental in her murder.

Time passed on and Antipater was succeeded by his son Cassander, more
ruthless, cruel and self-seeking, if possible, than his predecessor,
and he determined to rid himself of a charge become useless to him
and assume full regal power. Olympias had meanwhile secured the death
of Philip Arridaeus and his wife and carried off the young king and
his mother to Pydna. Cassander besieged and took them, and Olympias
was cited to appear before a public assembly of the Macedonians and
answer for the murders she had committed. Trusting in her own power
and influence she haughtily complied, but was condemned to death and
secretly executed by the relatives of those she had injured.

The young king and his mother were shut up in the castle of Amphipolis,
where they were treated rather as captives than as royal personages,
and finally put to death. It seems almost strange that Roxane, still
young and probably beautiful, was not forcibly married by one of the
contestants, and the question settled in this way rather than by such
tragic means, but it was not to be, and the son of Alexander must needs
die or others could not grasp the power which should have descended to
him.

Ptolemy, if not directly accessory, at least connived at this murder,
and thus secured himself in his new kingdom. It is said that the
restoration of the outward shrine of the great temple at Luxor, built
by Thothmes III and ruined by the Persians, took place during the
nominal sovereignty of Philip Arridaeus and Alexander IV, and therefore
quite early in Ptolemy’s satrapy. This restoration of the inner cella
was in the name of the boy king Alexander. A statue of the young king
is in the Gizeh Museum. It is of granite and about nine feet in height.
The gentle and melancholy expression seems well suited to the youth’s
tragic fate, but he is represented as much older than when he died,
and it is probably a conventional likeness, with a mingling of the
Egyptian and Greek in type and attributes. A certain inscription in
Egypt mentions Ptolemy in the seventh year of the absent Alexander. His
destroyer kept up the fiction of his authority, thus Ptolemy granted
lands in the name of Alexander and Philip after their decease.

We can almost imagine the unfortunate Queen Roxane ready to lay down
her harassed and weary life, but such is the natural clinging to the
known and visible that doubtless she had occasional periods of pleasure
and even of reviving hope for her child and herself. She had committed
or been accessory to the blackest crime to secure his succession.
Surely it could not be in vain?

Alexander the Great was born in 355 B. C. and died in 323. His son
Alexander IV was born 323 B. C. and died 310, but his name appears as
king till 305. Thus all the family of Alexander the Great perished by
violent deaths. First his mother, then his wife and child, and lastly
in 309 B. C. his sister and his natural son Herakles or Hercules.




CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

PTOLEMY QUEENS.


In the study of the Ptolemy period, compared with the dates of earlier
times, we seem to come so much nearer to the modern era that we might
look for certain knowledge. The more, as we now have the histories of
early writers, such as Polybius, Diodorus Siculus, Strabo, etc., to
consult, as well as the coinage, with dates and portraits of kings
and queens, to assist us. But the historical account is frequently
at second hand and not as to matters which the writer has himself
seen and known, and even some of the coins are found to be ambiguous
and referable to different reigns. The relationships, too, are so
mixed and the same names so often repeated that at many points we
are baffled in our search, and various parts of this complex history
remain in darkness, which further investigation may yet lighten, but
which at present give room for the conflicting theories and opinions of
different writers.

The chronology of Egypt, as before said, has always been a subject of
difficulty to students, and their researches lead many to different
conclusions. Even in the time of the Ptolemies, which seems modern
compared to the periods we have been considering, the same problem
confronts us, and the fact that the Olympian and the Julian year do
not coincide makes exact chronology impossible. Constant discoveries
are adding new light, and often in this and other respects proving
earlier conclusions incorrect. Thus even in the Ptolemy period we do
but approximate to some of the dates, etc.

The testimony of the coins is of extreme value, and we feel that like
hard facts they never lie, yet it is difficult to draw the line between
the conventional and the real likeness and between a flattering and
an unflattering presentment. The portraits of the queens, celebrated
in their own times and in succeeding ages as miracles of beauty and
charm, sometimes strikes us with amazement so utterly devoid do they
seem of either. We have to recall the possible potency of coloring and
animation, the fascination of manner and of voice to rehabilitate them,
reflecting how sometimes even in the modern photograph, for which it is
said “the sun cannot lie,” the plain woman sometimes appears beautiful
and the beauty almost plain.

As a rule the women of the Ptolemy family seem to have been handsome,
ambitious, capable, daring and cruel, and, save in the cases of the
three first kings, were in many instances superior to their husbands.
They shared with husbands and brothers the desire to keep the reins of
power in their own hands, and the willingness to do away with those who
stood in their path. Murder and assassination were but the means to an
end and daunted but few of them. Yet here and there we come across an
incident or an anecdote which throws a softer light upon their history,
a touch of amiability or kindness, which reveals “the eternal feminine”
still latent in their hearts.

The long line of Arsinoes, Berenikes and Cleopatras is like a
tangled skein of many colors and most difficult to disentangle and
render distinct. Mother, daughter and sister perhaps bear the same
appellation, and one is reminded of the English fashion of using the
same or very similar names for a whole region, as Highbury, Highbury
Hill, Highbury Crescent, etc., till the stranger is fairly bewildered.

In the division of the vast landed possessions of Alexander the Great,
Ptolemy, son of Lagos and Arsinoe, chose Egypt for his share and
founded a new line of kings. He was one of Alexander’s generals and
allied to him by blood, some say the natural son of his father Philip.

It is probably the eagle on the Ptolemy coins that suggested the
fable or tradition that the first Ptolemy was cared for by an eagle,
as Romulus and Remus by a wolf. Mahaffy, one of the later and most
reliable authorities on the Egypt of this period, says that Ptolemy
was, it is probable, born 367 B. C., and hence was some years older
than Alexander, but still young enough to be associated with him, and
accompanied him into exile, returning to court on his accession.

Whether he went with Alexander to Egypt is not positively known, but it
seems likely that some personal acquaintance with and admiration for
that country dictated his choice. It may be said to have been a love
match between Ptolemy and the land of his adoption, which could hardly
have been the case had he never seen it. Virtually he threw himself
into the arms of this new mistress, who received him with no less
enthusiasm, stiff-necked rebel as she had been against Persian rule. He
and his successors, especially the earlier ones, embraced the Egyptian
theology, built temples to the gods, accepted the manners and customs
of the people and affiliated themselves with them in every way.

They married their nearest relatives in Egyptian fashion and even
surpassed their predecessors in the dubious nature of these unions.
Alternately they seem to have adored the women whom they selected as
partners, to whom they paid special honors, having their portraits
stamped upon the coins (up to this time gold rings had been used as a
medium of exchange) and naming various cities after them or to have
quarrelled with and even murdered them.

To the massive dignity of design in the Egyptian architecture the
Ptolemies added something of the Greek ideal, and the temples erected
in their time are among the most beautiful in the land.

The seat of power and government changed from time to time. First
Memphis, the “City of the Good”; the “White Walled,” founded by Menes,
with its great temple of Ptah, which dominated it like a fortress.
Next “Hundred-gated Thebes,” the “City of Amon”; then Sais, situated
on a hill, with a royal citadel and storied and painted houses. Tanis,
recreated from an earlier settlement and stamped with his signet,
his giant statue, eighty or a hundred feet in height by Rameses the
Great—all these in turn were sovereign in the land and the dwelling
places of the queens. Now under Ptolemies, Alexandria, one of the
masterpieces of the great Macedonian, rose into prominence, vieing
with Athens as a seat of learning and the scene of unrivaled splendor,
magnificence and debauchery.

Deinocrates, the gifted architect of Alexander, created a city of noble
proportions, and inaugurated a new style of architecture, happily
combining the values of the Oriental and the Greek. The so-called
“Pompey’s pillar” is the only one remaining of the forest of columns
which formed part of the Greek temple of Serapis, the platform on the
top reached by a hundred steps, and the walls incrusted with metals
and jewels. It stood high above the city, which was regularly laid
out, with streets cutting each other at right angles, and bordered
with colonnades. Among the other noted buildings of which nothing now
remains, were the Mausoleum of Alexander, the harbor works uniting the
city and island of Pharos, the temple of Pan, and that built by Ptolemy
II, on the outside of one of the city gates, to celebrate the Elusinian
mysteries, the aqueduct and others, of which no trace remains, but of
whose existence we learn from early writers. The present Rue de Rosette
is said to follow the course of the ancient main street, which crossed
the city from the east to the west gates. The paintings still seen on
the walls of Pompeii give us an idea of the decorations of Alexandrine
architecture.

The great museum was a combination of university, club and social
gathering place. The early Ptolemies, especially, were patrons of
learning, and people of all nations met at their brilliant court,
and thus it is said “arose in Egypt the Neo-Greek culture which we
are accustomed to call Hellenism.” Literature, science and sculpture
flourished, and painting took on new forms and woke to new life. The
beautiful head of Alexander in the British Museum and many other fine
examples of sculpture have come down to us from this period.

The goldsmith’s work was also a fashionable art and as Louis XVI of
France amused himself by being a locksmith—and how differently might
life have ended for him had Nature made him of that class—Ptolemy II
amused himself by being a goldsmith.

For several years Ptolemy Sotor I, of the House of Diodachi, reigned
as nominal satrap or governor. He then assumed the title of king,
which he bore for twenty-three years, dying at the advanced age of
eighty-four. His administration was beneficial to the country, and he
attached the people to him by kindness and clemency, in marked contrast
to his Persian predecessors. He had not hesitated to secure his throne
by permitting the murder of the young king, but showed himself, in
general, less cruel and blood-thirsty than many of his contemporaries.
He established wise regulations, encouraged literature and art, and
brought captive Jews to people Alexandria. His title of Sotor or
Saviour was derived from the assistance he lent the people of Rhodes
against their enemies. Though brought up to a military life and often
engaged in war he evidently did not love it for its own sake, and was
not the dashing soldier, but where diplomacy and cautious measures
would serve his purpose, preferred to employ them.

The only portrait of Ptolemy Sotor is on the coins, coinage being
introduced into Egypt under the Ptolemies. Here he appears, like other
members of the family with a full, rounded face, a forehead not high
but fleshy over the eyes, arched brows, a nose rather too short and
with wide nostrils, a firm mouth and a prominent chin. Not so handsome
as Alexander, the Ptolemies, especially the earlier ones, must yet have
had considerable claim to good looks.

The cartouches of Ptolemy I are uncertain and not familiarly known,
while those of Ptolemy XIV and XV had not up to a very recent date been
found.

What is called the throne names of the Ptolemies were as follows:
Ptolemy Sotor, Arsinoe III, and Philip Arridaeus had the same pre-nomen
“chosen of Ra, beloved of Ra.”

Arsinoe IV “Joy of the heart of Amen, chosen of Ra, living image of
Amen.” Ptolemy III and his wife were spoken of as “Fraternal gods,
chosen of Ra, living image of Amen.”

Ptolemy IV was spoken of as “heir of the beneficent gods, chosen of
Ptah, strength of the Ka of Ra, living image of Amen.”

Ptolemy VII as “heir of the (two) manifest gods, form of Ptah, chosen
of Amen, doing the rule of Ra.”

Ptolemy IX, “heir of the (two) manifest gods, chosen of Ptah, doing the
rule of Amen, living image of Ra.”

Ptolemy X, “heir of the beneficent god and of the beneficent goddess,
chosen of Ptah, doing the rule of Ra, living image of Amen.”

Ptolemy XI one cartouch “heir of the (two) beneficent gods, chosen of
Ptah, doing the rule of Amen, living image of Ra.”

A second cartouch reads “Ptolemy, called Alexander, living forever,
beloved of Ptah.” Ptolemy XIII, “heir of the god that saves, chosen of
Ptah, doing the rule of Amen, living image of Ra.”

Various amours are credited to Ptolemy I which at this late date would
be difficult to either prove or disprove, among many with a bad record
he was not notably vicious. Three wives might legally have claimed the
title, but his love was evidently given to the last and probably the
youngest. Doubtless at Alexander’s behest he first took a Persian wife,
the Princess Artakama, the daughter of Artabasus. Only two of these
Persian wives are known to appear in later history, Amestris, daughter
of Oxyartes, and probably a sister or half sister of Roxane, married
to Krateras and subsequently to Lysimachus, and Apame, who married
Seleukas and became the ancestress of the Seleukid dynasty.

Ptolemy I married the Princess Artakama 330 B. C., which would make
him, if born 367 B. C., thirty-seven years of age at his first
marriage. He again wedded Eurydike, daughter of Antipater, nine years
later, and Berenike, evidently his favorite wife, when he was fifty.
All the ladies were doubtless much his juniors. The Princess Artakama
could not properly be called queen, since she passes out of Ptolemy’s
life and history before he assumed the title of king.

The marriage with Eurydike, the daughter of Antipater, who had
subsequently made himself king of Macedon, may have been merely
a matter of policy and not dictated by any motives of affection.
Ptolemy’s subsequent action and marked preference for Berenike seems
to suggest this; but that he lived with her as his legal wife and
acknowledged the children of both is matter of history. Eurydike came
with a retinue to Egypt, in the style of a great princess. It seems to
have been after the death of her father and during the reign of her
brother Cassander, with whom Ptolemy had formed an alliance and wished
to keep on peaceful terms, perhaps this very marriage was a pledge
of their friendship. We judge Eurydike to have been of less fiery
temper and disposition than Roxane, since she seems to have accepted
a successor and rival with comparative equanimity and apparently made
no effort to get rid of or destroy her. In her train came a grand
niece of Antipater, doubtless young and beautiful, a widow with all
the fascinations pertaining to that class, which probably she did not
hesitate to use upon the middle-aged king. The situation bears some
resemblance to that of Catharine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn, though less
fatal in its immediate results.

One writer has made Berenike daughter of Lagos and therefore
step-sister of Ptolemy, but Mahaffy says “it is likely he was misled
by the formula ‘wife and sister’ applied to Egyptian queens as a mere
title of honor and which was probably used in many documents regarding
the present princess.” And since Sotor was one of the few Ptolemies who
did not marry his immediate relatives, it is well he should have credit
therefor.

Both ladies appear to have been amiably disposed and Berenike was
evidently a strong character as well, who maintained a life-long
influence over her husband and secured for herself and her children
the first place. She was more strictly speaking the queen, since it
was after this last marriage that Ptolemy assumed the title, and it
was Berenike’s son who succeeded to the throne, as did the son of
Atossa; Eurydike had children, a son Ptolemy Keraunos and others, and
several daughters, whose claims were all set aside for those of the
more favored Berenike. So in 317 B. C. Ptolemy married his chosen
princess and gave her and her children the first place. By her previous
marriage Berenike already had three children, a son, Magas, and two
daughters, Theoxena and Antigone. These three Ptolemy seems to have
accepted almost as his own, using the princesses as the cards or dice
of the great games he was playing, as auxiliaries in cementing his
political alliances. In arranging all these marriages we may infer that
Berenike’s opinions and wishes had weight and who knows but she may
have used her influence to induce Ptolemy himself to assure the title
of King of Egypt. She would be neither the first nor the last wife who
has endeavored to fire her husband with ambition.

To anticipate somewhat, her son, Magas, became King of Cyrene, and
Theoxena was married to Agathocles of Syracuse, who was an upstart
and adventurer, but clever and able and making so much of himself and
his opportunities that he had to be reckoned with by the contesting
powers. “Antigone was married to Pyrrus; Lysandra to Sassander’s son,
Alexander; Lysandra (probably a second of the name), to Agathocles,
son of Lysimachus of Thrace; Arsinoe to Lysimachus himself; Eirene to
Eunostos, king of Soli in Cyprus, and ultimately in 287 B. C., even
Ptolemais to Demetrius.” Thus Ptolemy Sotor utilized his large family,
consisting, it is said, of twelve children, to serve his political
purposes.

Ptolemy Keraunos, the eldest son and rightful heir of his father,
beheld, with bitterness, himself set aside in favor of his younger
brother and continued, during his stormy life, to be a thorn in the
side of the Ptolemy succession. Our line of research is to follow the
domestic histories rather than the public acts of the king, already
made familiar by the pens of many able writers.

The first child of Sotor by his marriage with Berenike was a daughter,
later the well-known Arsinoe II, queen of Egypt. The son Ptolemy
Philadelphus, who succeeded his father, was born in 308 B. C. (on the
island of Kos, a favorite retreat from Alexandria) during one of the
campaigns of Ptolemy in the Aegean, whither Berenike had accompanied
her husband, either from the affection between them which forbade
separation, or the desire on the queen’s part to keep near the king
that she might continue to use her great influence, seeking to bend the
course of events as they arose, to her own purposes. She might well
have earned the title both of Berenike the Ambitious, and Berenike the
Successful, but scarcely those of Berenike the Just or the Generous.
The virtues of self-sacrifice and generosity were sometimes shown under
the ancient moral code, but consideration and Justice were fruits of
the Christian Dispensation.

Ptolemy Sotor did not marry young, but lived to see his children grow
up and to associate with him, on the throne, his son Ptolemy, called
Philadelphus, son of Berenike, and for the last years of his life
seemed to have resigned the regal power into his hands. So large a
family, composed of such diverse elements, would, even in modern times,
have been apt to have difficulties as regards matters of inheritance,
and it is little to be wondered at perhaps that such was supremely the
case in this instance. But, during his lifetime, the arrangements of
Ptolemy Sotor seem to have been accepted, in a great degree, and it was
not till after his death that a fierce conflict broke out among the
rival claimants.

Ptolemy Sotor is said to have eaten with the poor and borrowed plate
from the rich. The use of gold, silver and copper coins had been common
in Phoenicia and other countries before it was introduced into Egypt by
the first Ptolemy, but Poole says “the monograms and symbols indicating
mints are more constant and regular in the coinage of the Ptolemies
than in any other series of Greek regal money.” The pictures of the
kings and queens on the coins, albeit frequently conventionalized,
assist us much in our search for knowledge concerning them. The regular
silver coinage presents the heads of kings and queens on one side,
often those of the gods, eagles, etc., on the other. The place of the
mint name was usually on the reverse side, and, if dated, on opposite
sides of the field. A rare place for the mint name was between the legs
of the eagle. The gold coinage was often not struck in the time of
those whose heads it bears. Thus Philadelphus honored both his parents
after their decease. Queen Berenike I appears on the coins both alone
and with her husband. The face is dignified and beautiful, a straight
Greek nose and regular features. Of her death we find no record, but
she appears to have been loved and honored by both husband and son,
and whichever survived her no doubt she was buried with all possible
respect.

Though many wars occurred during the reign of Ptolemy Sotor, yet it
was so long that he had also much time to spare for the internal
administration and improvement of his kingdom, and some writers believe
that many things of benefit thereto, attributed to Ptolemy Philadelphus
should really be credited, at least in their inception, to Ptolemy
Sotor. He built and added to some of the finest temples, extended and
adorned Alexandria and is said to have written a history of Alexander’s
campaigns, which, unfortunately, has been lost, and showed his
appreciation of mental attainments by surrounding himself with men of
learning and culture.

Queen Eurydike seems to have endured with what grace she might the
secondary place accorded to her and her children, till the younger
Ptolemy was made king, when they all left Egypt, no doubt in bitterness
of soul and resolved if possible to wrest from him, whom they regarded
as a usurper of his elder brother’s rights, his regal powers.

The Ptolemies, called the Lagidae, were a popular race. Ptolemy Sotor
seems to have possessed much suavity and personal charm of manner, and
the Egyptians and other conquered peoples were treated by him and the
earlier Ptolemies with much more consideration and humanity than by
other more ruthless conquerors. Ptolemy Sotor is said to have had at
least twelve children by different wives, as well as by the courtezan
Thais. Statues of him are mentioned by various writers, but have not
been found, and his portrait on the coins is the only one that remains
to us. The three earliest members of the family seem to have a stronger
claim to good looks than their successors, who, both in regularity of
outline and general expression, are distinctly below the ancestral
level.

Eurydike, though probably the elder, may have survived her rival, but
their part was now played on the stage of history and they passed from
the scene, leaving it to a multitude of other actresses, some of whom
excelled them in beauty and celebrity, while others remain to us but as
a shadow and a name.




CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURTH.

ARSINOE II.


The most prominent figure in the long and involved list of Ptolemy
queens, next to that of the famed Cleopatra, is Arsinoe II, daughter of
Sotor and Berenike, and sister and wife of Ptolemy Philadelphus. She is
spoken of on the Mendes stele, now at Gizeh, as “the charming princess,
the most attractive, lovely and beautiful, the crowned one, who has
received the double diadem, whose splendor fills the palace, the friend
of the sacred Ram and his priestess Uta Utaba, the king’s sister and
wife who loves him, the queen Arsinoe.” And of no other queen do we
find so many monuments in various parts of the Greek world.

To the day of Arsinoe’s death she seems to have had the strongest hold
upon her husband’s affections and no token of honor and respect was
too great to lavish upon her while living, or to eulogize her merits
after her decease. The early part of her life was a tragic story, but
she survived the cruel sorrows which might have killed a woman of less
toughness of fibre than that which distinguished all the female members
of the Ptolemy race, and lived through a prosperous and successful
middle life, turning her back on the bitterness of the past and making
the most of the honors and dignity which came to her in the course of
years.

[Illustration: ARSINOE.]

In placing his younger son on the throne, instead of the elder, who
would usually have been considered the rightful heir, Ptolemy Sotor
may have been influenced by the personal character of the two, as well
as by other motives. The elder bore the name of Ptolemy Keraunos, a
soubriquet or nick-name meaning gloomy or violent, and was “of fiery
temper and unsteady life.” Mahaffy suggests that the thunderbolt added
to the Ptolemy coins at the time of his birth possibly gave rise to the
nick-name. History does not chronicle details, but there may have been
actual quarrels between father and son, a state of affairs not unknown
in modern times. Be this as it may, the younger was preferred before
the elder. Neither succession perhaps could have prevented subsequent
bitterness of feeling and strife. Yet peace was outwardly observed
during the life of the old king. Keraunos submitted and left Egypt with
his mother, brothers and sister, while Berenike’s son was made king,
co-ruler with his father (who virtually abdicated in 285-4) with feasts
and rejoicing.

Ptolemy the younger was “fair haired and delicate” in youth, resembling
his father, but with more regular features, and the thick neck
characteristic of many members of the family. His manners were gentle
as well as popular and probably he had already shown an appreciation
of his father’s policy and a taste for intellectual and scientific
pursuits. Few fathers would not take more pleasure in the succession of
a son likely to carry out their views, than in one who seemed disposed
to change and alter all their arrangements.

Gorgeous pageants celebrated the advent of the new king. His father,
it may be said, had in a certain measure slipped into power; not so
with the son, his successor. It was a matter of direct inheritance
and in Egypt at least his claim was not disputed. Whatever assistance
Ptolemy Keraunos secured was from foreign aid and not from partizans at
home. The banqueting hall was decorated with sculpture and painted and
carpeted with flowers, the gold and silver vessels, crown treasures,
were carried in the grand procession. There were fruits of all sorts
displayed and droves of camels, elephants and other wild animals.
Elephants were then much in favor as battle chargers with the kings
of this period, and though the Ptolemies made less use of them in
this respect, they too had large numbers of them. Their popularity,
however, soon declined and in later wars they were no longer deemed
available. Ptolemy Sotor presented the victors in the games at his
son’s coronation with twenty crowns, Queen Berenike with twenty-three.

Historical and allegorical tableaux were interspersed and eighty
thousand troops of cavalry and infantry took part. It must have been a
combination of the circus processions of modern times, with less tinsel
and more of solid value, with a fine military parade. It delighted the
people from morning till evening and showed to all strangers the wealth
and power of the Ptolemy House.

Spite of gentle seeming, as soon as his father’s death left him in
possession of the regal power, the new king made it quite clear
he would tolerate no rival and meant to keep possession of all he
had gained. Like his father, perhaps, he had no special taste for
the shedding of blood; indeed he is said to have deplored what he
considered the necessity of pursuing this policy, none the less did he
hesitate to do so to secure his throne, and several people were put
to death whom he thought might give him trouble. Probably his elder
brother would have been among these could he have laid his hand on him.
It was mortal strife between them, and Ptolemy Keraunos was now in
another country doing his best to unseat the young king.

Some years before her brother’s accession the young Arsinoe, a girl
of sixteen, first child of Ptolemy Sotor and Berenike, had married,
or rather been married, to the elderly Lysimachus, King of Thrace
(disparity of years was of course of no account in a political
marriage), and had exchanged her sunny Egyptian home for the cooler and
more rigorous climate of the mountainous regions of Northern Greece.
Beautiful, clever and ambitious, as were most of the Ptolemy women, she
was prominent among them and destined to have strong influence wherever
she went, especially over two at least of the men with whom she was
most closely associated. This marriage took place about 300 B. C.

So anxious was Ptolemy Sotor to cement the alliance between Lysimachus
and himself, that marriage after marriage was arranged for and it
might have been supposed that the two families were so closely united
that peace among them had been secured. His step-daughter Lysandra was
given to the Thracian Crown Prince Agathocles, thus making her at the
same time sister and daughter-in-law of Arsinoe, who was probably the
younger of the two, and not content with this, a marriage was arranged
between the young king of Egypt and Arsinoe, daughter of Lysimachus,
and half-sister of Agathocles, who thus became Queen Arsinoe I of Egypt.

She, too, was a person of spirit, decision and character, bloodshed
marked her footsteps; she caused an illicit lover of her mother’s to
be slain, and is said herself, young though she was, to have hastened
on her marriage with the Egyptian king. One of policy rather than
affection probably on both sides. It requires a clear head to follow
out these complicated relationships. Arsinoe I had attained her
ambition, but it was a position, in those unsettled times, involving
quite as much peril as honor. She became the mother of several
children, but whether her life was a happy one we may justly have our
doubts. It held, however, less tragedy than that of her successor.
Perhaps she was neither beautiful nor winning, certain it is that the
courtesies which were subsequently paid to various queens, of putting
their likeness on the coins and naming cities after them, were omitted
in her case.

Ptolemy Philadelphus founded, it is said, four Berenikes in honor of
his mother, eighteen Arsinoes, in honor of his second wife, and three
Philoteras, in honor of his sister, in Egypt and elsewhere. These last
were out of regard to a favorite sister Philotera, who dwelt in single
blessedness—shall we call it a rare privilege in those days?—and lived
in great harmony with her brother and his queens. As to the queen,
Arsinoe II, so to the maiden sister also poems were addressed by the
versifiers of the times.

The Thracian Arsinoe I, notwithstanding her early self-assertion, seems
to have made little mark either upon her husband or upon Egypt. The
comparative neglect with which she was treated may have embittered her
and made true the accusation brought against her of having conspired
against the life of her husband. If it was true she was leniently dealt
with. She was divorced about 277 B. C. in the eighth or ninth year of
Ptolemy’s reign, and banished to Koptos, where she lived in some state
and appears from certain records to have been accompanied or visited by
her younger son. She kept up her intercourse, too, perhaps with some
of her Thracian relatives; and built shrines to the gods. The very
fact that her life did not pay the forfeit of her alleged crime seems
to throw doubt upon it. Or possibly, though this seems less likely,
Arsinoe II, her supplanter, who in general, her purpose accomplished,
showed no desire for the shedding of blood, may have induced the king
to spare her. We can only surmise.

Ptolemy Philadelphus was a prosperous and popular king; living in
comparative peace in sunny Egypt with his Thracian wife, remote from
most of the wars which were carried on in his name and caring little
what battles raged at a distance so that he preserved himself and
his kingdom in relative quiet. There were wars and rebellions afar,
there were times even when Egypt itself was threatened, but through it
all, at home, Ptolemy was able to pursue a relatively peaceful way.
He spent his time adorning his splendid city and enlarging and, so
to call it, emphasizing the scope of his great museum, a combination
of university, club and social gathering place. The early Ptolemies,
especially, were patrons of learning and people of all nations met at
their brilliant court. He gathered around him men of intellectual and
scientific pursuits and enjoyed mental pleasures as well as those of a
lower order. His courtiers lavished upon him unstinted adulation and he
might well have walked the earth as proudly as the great Rameses II,
his predecessor.

It is to him we owe the translation of the Bible called the Septuagent,
from the seventy translators who were gathered together to accomplish
the task. Manetho, of Sebennytus, a priest of Heliopolis, was also
employed by the king to collect the fragments of Egyptian history, from
the time of Menes 4455 B. C. to 322 B. C. which had lain hidden or
neglected in the various temples, and prepare from them a consecutive
narrative. But unfortunately only fragments of this also now remain
to us, and it is from these, given by Josephus and other Jewish and
Christian writers that we have obtained our earliest knowledge, in a
literary form, of Egyptian history. This work enjoyed a high reputation.

The king himself must have had some literary ability, or at least
a pretty turn for the use of the pen, for he wrote a history of
Alexander’s conquests. That it was much celebrated and lauded goes
without saying; even in modern times the literary productions of
king or president are much in demand and widely read. But of its
intrinsic merits we are unable to judge, since it too is lost to us,
an unfortunate fact, as it could not fail to have been of interest,
whatever its method of treatment or literary value.

Ptolemy made wise laws and so far as he could, combined with his own
personal advantage, wrought in every way for the internal improvement
of his kingdom. Notwithstanding the modern assertions of liberty,
equality and fraternity, it may be doubted whether in all ages and
at all times man is not more or less a slave to circumstance and
environment, but certainly the slaves of the early Ptolemies might have
contrasted favorably both with those that who came before and those who
came after. Less trampled upon and oppressed than in the reigns of the
Pyramid builders, the great Rameses, or the Persian line, they appear
also to have been better off and more peaceful than under the later
Ptolemy rulers.

Ptolemy, ably seconded by his favorite wife, was devoted to the service
of the temples and favorable to the priests, a policy which helped to
strengthen his place and power. He built and restored temples both to
the gods of Greece and Egypt. These last were approached in solemn
procession, and were not merely, like the Greeks, to hold images of
the gods, or like the later Christian places of worship to accommodate
a congregation. They had a holy of holies, into which only the high
priest entered. Through the avenue of sphinxes, which frequently gave
entrance to the temples, the long line would wind from their gaily
decorated boats on the Nile, while the sacred lakes and the sacred
grove were generally within the enclosure. The pylons or entrances
were most imposing and an open court and a great hall beyond, with
colonnades and columns, adorned with sculpture and paintings, gave
entrance to this highest sanctuary, containing the symbol of the god or
sacred animal.

No traces remain of the temple building of Ptolemy Philadelphus beyond
the beautiful island of Philae; but at many other points ruins and
fragments are to be found. Those of the temple of Isis in Hebt are near
the present Mausura. These are of red and grey granite, with columns
and architraves. There are figures of the king making offerings to Isis
and among others an inscription which reads “Isis, Mistress of Hebit,
who lays everything before her royal brother.” Of the portrait statues
of the Egyptian kings and queens Dr. Lepsius says: “They wear the same
character of monumental repose as the gods themselves and yet without
the possibility of their human individuality being confounded with the
universally typical features of the divine images.”

But intellectual, or so called religious pursuits, not alone shared
Ptolemy’s heart and attention. His was a pleasure-loving nature;
beautiful women thronged his court, sought his favor and beamed upon
him with smiles and blandishments. No claim of legal wife, not even the
true and devoted affection which he showed so plainly that he felt for
his latest spouse, prevented his indulging in baser connections. He
was the king—if no other man—the king at least might do as he pleased,
there was none to criticise, none to prevent. Then, too, he amused
himself with his goldsmith’s work, bench and tools doubtless occupied
some favorite nook in the palace, and since this fancy is matter of
record, we may judge that he turned out some creditable specimens of
work, was no mean craftsman and perhaps adorned with his own skill the
favorite of the hour, or the plumb and beautiful form of his beloved
Arsinoe II.

To the personal history of this same princess, the subject of the
present sketch, we turn once more. Like Roxane, wife of Alexander,
she in a measure deserved and prepared the way for her own subsequent
misfortunes. She was queen of Thrace, a distinguished and honorable
position, but obtained at the cost of the honor, feelings and probably
affections of the previous queen. Lysimachus had lived at Sardis,
apparently in harmony with a noble Persian wife, Amestris. But,
probably for political reasons alone, he sent her away, and married the
young daughter of Ptolemy Sotor.

The new queen of Thrace resembled her mother Berenike in her ambition
and tact. She, too, acquired great influence over an old husband, as
far as in her lay, ousted her step-children from their natural rights,
and secured all she could for her own. She obtained from the king the
session of several valuable towns, but was not contented. Again like
her mother before her she wished to supplant the elder members of the
family. At this crisis Ptolemy Keraunos, “the Embroiler,” arrived
at the Thracian court, and instead of, as might have been expected,
siding with his own sister Lysandra, who had married the Crown Prince,
Agathocles, calumniated him to the king, showing how completely the old
man was under Arsinoe’s powerful influence, and succeeded in having
the prince put to death. None of which shows Arsinoe in a very amiable
light, but she doubtless thought one must fight for one’s self, by
whatever means, or be driven to the wall.

There were other allies, Magas, King of Cyrene and half brother of
Ptolemy Keraunos, seems to have leaned to his side, in the contest
which the latter was waging for his rights, and been ready to throw
off the yoke of Egypt. These were stirring times, men and women too,
whether they would or not must lead “the strenuous life.” Seleukos,
King of Syria, lent aid to Ptolemy Keraunos, and attacked Lysimachus,
who lost his life in battle, but instead of proceeding further to place
Keraunos on the throne of Egypt, as the latter expected, he suddenly
determined to go back to his old home in Macedonia. Disappointed
and enraged, Keraunos secured the murder of Seleukos and proclaimed
himself king in his place. That he could have succeeded in this
gigantic scheme, Mahaffy considers, shows him to have had many fellow
conspirators.

His Egyptian projects had now to be abandoned, as Antiochus, son of
Seleukos, was already hastening to avenge the death of his father. So
Keraunos, nothing loth probably, seized upon the throne of Thrace,
the king and his eldest son both being dead. Grabbing a Kingdom seems
to have been comparatively easy—the pastime of adventurers in those
days—but it was frequently “light come and light go”—there was seldom
any real stability in these self-made royalties.

Again Arsinoe, the Egyptian born, appears in an unfavorable light
(though how far independence of action or any other course was possible
to her we cannot judge) for she married this murderer of kings, the
son of her father’s first wife. Doubtless she must have foreseen the
possibility of ill consequences, for she was a woman of acute mind, but
probably in the midst of such troublous times and so many perplexities
it seemed the safest thing to her to marry the strongest, the man who
had proved himself a success, and she believed that it would secure her
and her children the throne of Thrace. She had already lent herself to
cruel deeds to secure this object, she must needs go on in the same
path. Few more unlovely characters than Keraunos appear in this dark
period of history. It is evident that he simply married Arsinoe to
get her in his power, for no sooner had he done so than he murdered
her young children and banished her childless and heart-broken to the
island of Samothrace, to repent in bitterness of soul her sad mistake.
Two years later the monster was overthrown in battle, dragged from his
elephant, and hacked to pieces by the barbarous Gauls, leaving, we may
imagine, but few to mourn his well-deserved fate.

Meanwhile the childless widow, stripped of throne, honors and kindred
abode in the holy, isle. To her perhaps life seemed ended, little
foreseeing the splendid future before her. Turning to religious
consolations in time of sorrow, she worshipped the strange divinities
of the place, building shrines to them, of which traces have been
discovered in modern times, and even adding them to the long list of
Egyptian divinities and building temples to them when she returned to
her native land.

Deeply attached to her as he proved himself to be later, we cannot
suppose Ptolemy Philadelphus to have been unmoved by the great
misfortunes of his sister, but news traveled slowly in those days, and
whatever the cause, he seems to have done nothing at once to avenge
her losses. Whether at his instance or hers we know not, but after a
certain length of time Arsinoe returned to Egypt. She took new hold of
life and perhaps even began to scheme for the attainment of the honors
which she shortly won. Recognized or not, her presence was a menace to
the reigning queen. Equally it remains possible that she was innocent
in this matter, further than acquiescence in the wishes of the king,
but her previous course in Thrace lends color to the former idea.

So Arsinoe I was banished and Ptolemy married the widow, who now
became Arsinoe II, called Philadelphus during her lifetime, and only
subsequently was the title bestowed upon her husband to distinguish him
among the long list of Ptolemy kings. This strange marriage was quite
in accordance with Egyptian customs, where the queen was frequently
called the king’s sister, as a term of honor, whether she was so or
not, and shows how the Ptolemies had accepted Egyptian ideas, which
no doubt largely account for their popularity. But to the Greeks such
unions were an offence and deemed, as we would in a Christian age,
incestuous. But the king was absolute, one of the courtiers, if not
more, who dared to criticise and disapprove, paid with life for his
temerity.

The first marriage occurred probably when Arsinoe II was about sixteen,
her third and last when she was thirty-nine or forty. There can be
little doubt that she had beauty and charm, a vigorous mind and great
tact. She needed scope for her powers and in becoming queen of Egypt
found a field well suited to her desires and abilities. We seem to see
some resemblance between her and Queen Mertytefs of ancient times. Both
were in succession wife to different kings, both were women of great
attractiveness and capacity, and both took a personal share in public
affairs. Step by step the new queen rose to greater prominence. Her
sorrows were of the past, now life was all sunshine. She attained the
highest point to which mortal could reach, she was finally worshipped
as a goddess, and on a certain stele found at Pithon, she is even
represented as a deity bestowing favors on her husband.

In the fifteenth year of Ptolemy’s reign Arsinoe II was made goddess
of Mende, in the nineteenth at Thebes and in the twentieth or
twenty-first, as Isis-Arsinoe, she was worshipped at Sais, and the
king claimed these honors for her in all the temples of Egypt. There
had been a city, the centre of the Egyptian worship of the crocodile,
this Ptolemy re-named after the queen; it was enlarged, embellished and
Hellenised to a great extent by the introduction of the Greek language
and the erection of temples to the Greek gods and institutions on a
Greek pattern. Its population at one time was said to amount to a
hundred thousand.

Among other attractions for the king, perhaps, was also the fact that
Arsinoe was a great heiress. She had proprietary claims on Cassandrea,
Pontiac, Heraclia and its dependent cities, bestowed on her by her
first husband. In the region called the Fayum, the former Lake
Moeris was drained and turned into a fertile plain and this work was
attributed to Arsinoe and it was now called the Arsinoe nome, and from
it the queen derived part of her revenues. Old records show that it was
settled by veteran soldiers who brought wives from Greek lands, and
that it was an orderly and well managed society, with few crimes laid
to its account.

Arsinoe II was an ideal stepmother, in the better sense of the word.
The children of Ptolemy were treated by her as her own—only one son
appears to have accompanied his mother into exile, if even he remained
permanently with her—all the others dwelt in apparent harmony and
affection with her supplanter. Thus Ptolemy Philadelphus had an
intellectual companion whose advice he sought and upon whose judgment
he relied, whose personal charms were great, who made life smooth and
agreeable and who dwelt at peace both with his favorite sister and his
children. While last, and perhaps not least in her catalogue of virtues
in his eyes, she was lenient to his defections from the moral code and
saved him from the desire and peril of other alliances. Such as she was
the king seems to have idolized her and paid her every possible honor
in life and in death. That she was some years his senior in no way
interfered with a marriage apparently most congenial to both.

Deprived first of parents, then of husband, children and throne Arsinoe
had a strange and rare experience, virtually a second life lay before
her, surpassing in all respects her earlier career. She dwelt in light
and airy palaces built of brick and wood, richly decorated with color,
adorned with balconies and surrounded by gardens and ponds. The music
of tambourine, drum and flute, violin with one string, zither, lute or
mandolin—and song and chorus, she had but to speak her pleasure and
silence became melodious. Rhythm but not time, and monotonous singing
through the nose, not pleasing to the European ear, is said to describe
Egyptian music of to-day and probably that of the past also, but it was
doubtless to their taste. The queen, too, had the privilege of being
priestess in the temples and playing the sacred sistrum before the
gods. She dwelt in an increasingly beautiful city, with wide streets,
splendid palaces and many fine buildings.

Her associations were with men of culture and learning. She was
surrounded by courtiers and poets who paid her homage and wrote in
her praise. Doubtless, too, through her many tried to obtain favors
from and influence with the king. She was for those times a deeply
religious woman, building temples to the gods and lavishing gifts upon
them. Thereby, of course, she endeared herself to the priests, always
a more or less influential class, and it was probably owing to this,
in addition to her husband’s partiality, that she was, even during her
lifetime, deified. Both she and the king, we may judge, had affable
and agreeable manners and both seem to have been very popular with the
people.

In all the concerns of the kingdom she took an active share, and it
is said that “no queen till we reach the last Cleopatra ever wielded
greater political influence.” Wars and rumors of wars there were, but
Egypt itself in this reign rested in comparative peace. The queen’s
life must have been busy and full of interest, thus enabling her to
recover from her earlier sorrows. Egypt was a country flowing not with
milk and honey, but with oil and wine, the juices of the olive and the
grape, from which large revenues were derived. As the great museum is
said to have formed part of the palace, and contained cloisters or
porticoes, a public theatre, or lecture room, and an immense dining
hall, where the learned feasted together, it is possible that the queen
may have been no unfamiliar figure within its walls. The person of the
Ptolemy queens was doubtless as well known to the people as the wife of
many a modern ruler, the Persian custom of strict seclusion for women
not obtaining among the Greeks and their descendants.

There is a story told of Queen Arsinoe II, considered reliable, to
the effect that she took exception to the ordering of a feast to one
of the gods, remarking “this is a shabby consorting together, for the
company must be a mixed crowd of all sorts, the food stale and not
decently served,” and thereafter provided for better arrangements at
her own expense. Hitherto each guest, somewhat in the manner of a
modern country picnic, having brought a miscellaneous and disorderly
collection. And whatever the queen did in the matter was doubtless
accepted by the king.

Together with his sister, the royal pair travelled through the country
and cities were founded bearing the name of both ladies. Together the
king and queen seem to have governed and planned for the internal
improvement of the kingdom, studying its needs and necessities by
personal inspection. They made two visits to Pithon, and their foreign
officials brought back elephants and various curiosities, to pleasure
their majesties, or by special command. Part of the text of an ancient
inscription found in the mounds of the ruins of this very city reads:
“He brought all the things which are agreeable to the king, and to his
sister, his royal wife who loves him;” further, “and he built a great
city to the king with the illustrious name of the king, the lord of
Egypt, Ptolemais. And he took possession of it with the soldiers of his
majesty and all the workmen of Egypt and the land of Punt.” Also they
caught elephants and in another place it proceeds, “and in this place
(Kemuer-sea) the king had founded a large city to his sister, with
the illustrious name of King Ptolemy (Philotera).” The same beloved
sister, to whom, as well as to the queen herself, court poets, like
Callimachus, addressed poems. Sanctuaries were also built there to the
princess Adelphus.

The delicate and pleasure-loving king never commanded his armies in
person, but was quick to take advantage of anything in his own favor.
He sent ambassadors to treat with the great and growing power of Rome,
and made alliances wherever possible with any power strong enough to
do his harm. With Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, he was connected by the
marriage of a step-sister, Antigone; his mother, Berenike’s daughter,
by her first husband.

Always beside the king, Arsinoe II was a woman of affairs, busy and
capable, but not too much occupied to enjoy the amenities of life and
make it agreeable to her consort. In his foreign wars and alliances,
in the internal improvement of the kingdom, in his literary work, the
story of Alexander’s campaigns, in Manetho’s History of Egypt, in the
translation of the Septuagent, in the additions to the great library
in which at the time of his death Ptolemy Philadelphus is said to have
left 700,000 volumes, in the marriages of his children we cannot doubt
the queen’s active interest and sympathetic share, above all others she
was the Privy Councillor.

At Karnak and various points along the Nile as far as Philae, are
fragments of temples both to Egyptian and Greek gods, built or restored
by Ptolemy Philadelphus, and both he and his wife were interested in
the Cabeiri mysteries, probably in their later years as some one has
well said, “to still the longings of the soul with spiritual food and
with dim revelations of the unseen,” here, too, perhaps, we may see the
queen’s influence, since they were celebrated with special solemnity at
Samothrace, the home of her widowhood. The king and queen lived in an
atmosphere of adulation, like that which surrounded Louis XIV. Writers
of the time drew flattering pictures of them and coarse caricatures
of the masses. As to-day newspapers, whatever the private convictions
of their editors, will bow and truckle to what they believe to be the
popular view of any subject, so in ancient times it was the king and
queen alone and those in high places who thus swayed the pen.

Some writers believe that Ptolemy and Arsinoe had one son who died
in youth, but the weight of testimony is against this. In regard to
the marriages of her step-children, whom she had brought up as her
own, we may well believe the queen’s influence was great. The eldest
daughter, Berenike, the child of Arsinoe I, was married to Antiochus
II, the sickly king of Syria, chiefly in the hope of establishing an
Egyptian claim to the throne of that monarchy. Sacrificed like so
many young princesses, both before and after, to political purposes.
Yet Ptolemy Philadelphus seems to have regarded this daughter with
especial tenderness, for he accompanied her to her husband’s kingdom,
was present at the marriage, and continued to send her the water
of the fertile, beloved and worshipped Nile for use in her distant
home. To accomplish this marriage Antiochus II had put away his first
wife, Laodike. But this last was not a woman to submit meekly to such
indignity, and stopped at nothing to recover her lost position. Who did
in those days—even the best of them—hesitate at any crime to secure
her object? The injured queen, burning to avenge her wrongs, caused
the king to be poisoned, he, perhaps weakly, having put himself in
her power by going to see her at Ephesus, even after the birth of a
son by the new queen. Nor was this enough, for the death of her rival
was also determined upon, Laodike having many adherents, and ere her
father could come to her rescue, poor Berenike and her babe were also
murdered, innocent victims of political intrigue. Ptolemy Philadelphus
perhaps lived long enough to hear of this tragic death, but not long
enough to avenge it—a task he left to the son who succeeded him.

Of the personality and general characteristics of no queen in the long
Ptolemy line can we gather a clearer idea from the records that remain
to us. There is a statue of Ptolemy Philadelphus and Arsinoe II in the
Vatican, with, Mahaffy thinks, the dear sister Philactera beside them.
Not only on coins, but among the effigies at the entrance of the Odeum
at Athens, where the statues of the Egyptian kings were set up, she had
her place. Pausanius also saw at Helicon a statue of her “riding upon
an ostrich in bronze.” A position elevated, but lacking in dignity,
perhaps, like a grey-haired lady on the modern bicycle. “It is very
likely,” continues Mahaffy, “that this statue or a replica was present
to the mind of Callicachus when he spake in the ‘Coma Berinices,’
of ‘the winged horse, brother of the Aethiopian Memnon, who is the
messenger of Queen Arsinoe, she is also in that poem called Venus and
Zaphyrion.”

From the coins we learn of Arsinoe II that there were octadrams in
all metals with her image, and those with portraits of Ptolemy I
and Berenike I, and those of Ptolemy II and herself; and in silver
of Ptolemy I, and also of her alone, struck in the reign of Ptolemy
Philadelphus; also gold coins with Arsinoe II alone. The coins of
Arsinoe II were mainly octadrams in gold and decadrams in silver. On
these and also on those of her step-daughter, Berenike II, both queens
are diademed and veiled, with regular features, indisputably handsome
but conventionalized. Arsinoe II appears with the horn of Zeus Amon,
diadem, stephane or crown, veil and sceptre. She is beautiful in youth
and still handsome, though more portly as depicted in later years. Most
of the Ptolemy queens grew comfortably plump with time; the murder of
a rival or even the death of their nearest relatives appears to have
interfered little with their digestion.

But death came at last to put an end to these ceaseless activities,
whether by slow decay or sudden illness, we know not. Ptolemy
Philadelphia died 247 B. C., Arsinoe II, some say 270 B. C., but we
have no precise date. The king was in no sense a faithful lover, since
he had a succession of feminine favorites, alternating in the company
of philosophers and mistresses. Yet he seems to have mourned Arsinoe
with a passionate grief, and indulged in what may be called wild
schemes to do her honor. One of these was the building of a temple
with a loadstone in the roof which should hold, suspended in mid-air,
an iron statue of the queen. In everything he had leaned upon her, and
she had made life agreeable to him, his sorrow for her loss was sincere
and deep. Her popularity with the people was also widespread, more
inscriptions in her honor have been found all over Egypt than of those
of any of the succeeding queens.

Ptolemy Philadelphus reigned more than thirty-six years and left his
kingdom peacefully to his son Euergetes, whose name had long been
associated with his in public acts.




CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE.

PTOLEMY QUEENS (CONTINUED).


Ptolemy Euergetes, the Benefactor, son of Ptolemy Philadelphus and
Arsinoe II, was the third of his race to become king of Egypt. He
ascended the throne when past his early youth, and appears to have
remained unmarried until this time. We know little of his early life,
and one writer suggests that the all-pervading power and influence of
his stepmother, Arsinoe II, may have caused him to absent himself from
his native land, but this is merely hypothesis.

He chose for himself, or his father chose for him, Berenike, daughter
and heiress of Magas, King of Cyrene, who at the time of their marriage
was reigning queen in her father’s stead, the Egyptian prince having
been declared Lord of Cyrene, and on this marriage King Consort, while
she now became Berenike II of Egypt. Magas was the son of Berenike
I, the grandmother of Euergetes by a marriage previous to that with
Ptolemy Sotor, hence there was a sort of cousinship between Euergetes
and his bride. Personal acquaintance there may have been also, and
real affection, of which it is pleasant to read, appears between them.
It is said too that no breath of scandal touched Ptolemy Euergetes’
name, which is indeed an unique record in his family. Like many other
princes, and others of a later day, Euergetes may have been sent abroad
to complete his education and see some thing of the world. If these
travels led him to Cyrene, as appears likely, since he was proclaimed
Lord of the same on the death of Magas, he may have become familiar
with the lady of his choice and seen or heard tales of her prowess.
A brave and valiant figure, this same Berenike II, warm-hearted,
affectionate and courageous to a degree. Stories are told of her valor
in rescuing her father, when in the midst of enemies, by riding in
among and putting them to flight. Like the late Empress of Austria
she was a splendid horsewoman, was accustomed to break horses for the
Olympian games and performed other equestrian feats.

An individual figure was she, like her predecessor on the throne of
Egypt, Arsinoe II, but a very different one, save in the fact that the
husband of both seemed devoted to them. With these experiences behind
her Berenike could not have been very young when she became queen of
Egypt. Such as she was, doubtless handsome, intrepid and fascinating,
she won the heart of a prince to whom she seems to have given her own
unreservedly; even so the course of true love did not run quite smooth.
Her mother, Berenike, also opposed the match, for reasons not given,
but did not succeed in breaking it off. One line by a poet of the time
gives an attractive touch to the picture of the new queen.

“He who seated facing thee sees and hears thy laughter sweet.”

Of her, too, we have portraits on the coins, beautiful,
regular-featured and conventional. These were gold octadrams and
others. In some she appears with the king, in some alone, with diadem,
veil and necklace. Others are remarkable for the absence of the veil,
there is a cornucopia and it is accompanied by a single star. Berenike
II was the first Egyptian queen who bore her title on the coins.

Shortly before the accession of Ptolemy III and his marriage, which
occurred 247 B. C., had come the tragic news of the murder of his
sister Berenike, the young queen of Syria, of which it is uncertain
whether his father was aware. Euergetes, apparently the most personally
valiant and warlike of the three first Ptolemies, set out to avenge her
death.

Queen Berenike II implored the gods to restore her beloved husband, and
vowed to Venus the tresses of her hair, bright, beautiful and abundant,
in case of his safe return. Fragments of papyri, found by Professor
Petrie, confirm the fact that the king was successful in his war, and
came again in triumph. With what rejoicing he was received by his
wife we can well imagine, who faithfully carried out her vow and this
“woman’s crown” was placed in the sanctuary. The king, while highly
appreciating this token of affection, must have felt some regret at
the sacrifice. It recalls a story of later date where the Duchess of
Marlborough, of the time of William III, cut off her beautiful hair,
not to dedicate it to the gods, but to throw it indignantly at her
husband’s feet, as revenge for some act of his of which she did not
approve. She had not even the satisfaction of rousing him, for he took
no notice, but after his death she found locked up in a drawer her
heavy curls, which he had always admired.

Berenike’s hair, however, was stolen from the temple, to the grief and
indignation of the king. To account for it courtiers and poets devised
legends and the mathematician Conon said it had been raised to the
heavens to become a constellation, the “Coma Berenice,” a small group
of stars still to be seen. Of this miracle Catullus wrote:

    “Behold we stream along the liquid air,
    A radiant lock of Berenice’s hair,
    Which the fond queen with hands uplifted vow’d
    A welcome offering to each favoring god.”

And speaking of the king it continues:

    “Speed his return, with triumph crown his stay,
    And subject Asian realms to Egypt’s sway;
    This once attained, among the gods I shine,
    Absolving all thy oaths a new made sign.”
    “That the yellow tresses of my fair
    Sacred to love might gild the illumed air.”

And the hair, impersonated by the poet, laments its separation from its
mistress’s head. These flights of fancy were no doubt very pleasing to
the king.

Like her mother-in-law, if to a less degree, Berenike II seems to have
taken an active interest in the affairs of the kingdom. At Canopus,
an old trading post, a temple was erected to the king and queen, who
were there deified as “Benefactor Gods,” referring probably to the
active measures which they took to avert a threatened famine. From the
Canopus decree which bears some resemblance to the celebrated Rosetta
stone, and from a gold plaque found in the ruins of tombs we obtain
this information. In the sanctuary at Philae is still a pedestal placed
here by Euergetes and his wife, on which stood the sacred boat with the
image of Isis, and on a wall in the same temple is his father Ptolemy
Philadelphus offering incense and pouring water on the altar.

To the Princess Berenike, probably the first child of this marriage,
who had died, a statue was set up, beside the gods. The head-dress of
young Berenike differs in that it has two ears of corn, in the midst
of which is the asp-shaped diadem, behind is a papyrus-shaped sceptre,
about which the tail of the diadem’s serpent is wound.

The year after the Canopus decree, the tenth of his reign, Ptolemy
Euergetes went with great pomp to the refounding of the temple of Edfu,
in Upper Egypt, one of the most splendid with which the Ptolemy name is
connected, and where a great feast was held for six days.

We know but little definitely about the private life of the king and
queen, but one or two incidents connected with her are preserved.
Other wives or mistresses, claimants on her husband’s affection, made
no figure, if they existed, so we may believe Berenike’s marriage
relations to have been more than usually peaceful and happy. One
pleasant anecdote is told of her which Mahaffy gives in a footnote.
While the king was one day playing at dice, an officer came to him to
read out a list of criminals to be condemned, but the queen gently
took it away and would not allow him to decide so important a matter
so hastily, and at such a time, and it further states that the king
yielded to her wishes. That the queen thus dared to interfere and
the king so readily accepted her action seems to give proof of the
peculiarly amiable relations existing between them.

The queen is also spoken of as a patroness of various aromatic oils,
toilette articles, etc., which leads us to suppose she was particular
about and careful of her personal appearance. Ptolemy Euergetes was,
like his predecessor, fat and handsome, with a full, voluptuous face.
The early Ptolemies all had full, voluptuous faces, but handsome, while
in the cases of their successors the features were less regular, the
nose sharper, and the chin more prominent.

The royal pair had several children, of whom the oldest succeeded his
father, the king dying in the twenty-fifth year of his reign. The three
first Ptolemies were men of mark, their descendants were decadents,
profligate, perfidious and cruel, unfaithful in every way to moral
obligations and their task of governing.

Ptolemy Philopator was a young man when he ascended the throne, 222 B.
C., his name is said to signify “the son designated for the throne by
his father,” with whom, as was so frequently the case, he had probably
already been associated in the government. Some authors even suggest
that he was not even innocent of the death of this parent, as that of
the other was certainly laid at his door, and that he selected the
name Philopater to disarm suspicion. But possibly, like Cambyses, as
he proved himself a man of evil, nothing was too bad to believe of
him. Immediately on his accession he murdered his younger brother
Magas, of this there seems no doubt. Berenike II was much attached
to this younger son and perhaps wished him to succeed his father, as
Philadelphus had done, in preference to Keraunos, which may have been
the cause of the new king’s unnatural hatred against her, she was given
in charge of Sosibios, an official and favorite of the king’s, and is
said either to have been murdered or committed suicide by poison, so
unendurable to the high-spirited princess was her imprisonment. She who
had been reigning queen and so beloved. It was a melancholy close to
her life’s story.

A number of other murders are laid to the king’s charge, through the
influence of the same Sosibios. Polybius, who is deemed a reliable
authority on this period, says the king “would attend to no business
and would hardly grant an interview to the officials about the court,”
but was “absorbed in unworthy intrigues and senseless and continual
drunkenness,” and “treated the several branches of the government
with equal indifference;” all was managed by the officials, or any
who might seize the power. His generals fought his battles and gained
his victories, with little thanks due to the wisdom or judgment of
the king. Agathocles and Sosibios were his leading ministers. But
occasionally, at least, he seems to have roused himself and appeared in
person on the field, as we read of his setting out from Alexandria with
70,000 infantry, 5,000 cavalry and 73 elephants. At Raphia was fought a
great battle, between Antiochus of Syria and Ptolemy, which was opened
by a charge of elephants in which the Egyptians came off victorious.

And here we catch a glimpse of the next queen of Egypt (subsequently
deified with her husband as gods Philapatores) Arsinoe III, daughter
of Euergetes I and Berenike II. She accompanied her brother and rode
with him, a fearless horsewoman, like her mother, perhaps, in front of
the troops, before the battle, exhorting the soldiers to courage and
conquest. Like her mother also she is said to have dedicated a lock of
her hair in the temple, but the story is not so well authenticated.
Besides this little glimpse of her personality at the battle, which
shows vigor and bravery, we learn little of her, probably she was fair,
perhaps virtuous. She was a late child of her parents’ marriage, it may
be the youngest, and it seems to be implied that she was early left
an orphan and had a sad youth. It was some years after this battle
about 213 B. C. that she was married to Ptolemy Philopator, and became
Arsinoe III of Egypt. Her husband, given to debauchery, amusing himself
with literary work, a taste he shared with the earlier Ptolemies, and
not, we may imagine, of a very high character, and under the influence
of his minister, Sosibios, as well as Agathocles and Agathoclea, sister
of the latter, could not have been a very love inspiring companion. The
queen bore a son in 210 or 209 B. C., who succeeded his father at five
years of age, under the title of Ptolemy V, Epiphanes.

The cruelties to the Jews practiced or allowed by Ptolemy IV were
in contrast to the policy of his predecessors, and though some
inscriptions remain (the temple of Edfu has mention of this) which
do him honor, the weight of testimony seems to be that he was an
oppressive and cruel king and hated by his subjects. Yet these few
inscriptions, as is frequently the case, for in any important matter
the testimony is often conflicting, give a different and better view
of his character. The chief cause of, or accessory to many murders he
undoubtedly was.

A temple in Nubia gives pictures of Ptolemy Philopater and his wife,
Arsinoe III, receiving offerings, as well as those of his father and
mother, grandfather and grandmother. It is thought that the Prince of
Nubia may have assisted in putting down a revolt of his subjects.

The murder of Arsinoe III was due to the influence of the king’s
shameless mistress, Agathoclea and her brother Agathocles, but what
had made the unfortunate queen especially obnoxious to them we do not
know. Perhaps she was merely an obstacle in the path of their ambition,
and they thought that if they could get the child absolutely in their
power they could regulate things better to their own liking; perhaps
some stories, true or false, were raised against the queen to justify
their proceedings. She seems to have had a sad life and to have been
friendless in the midst of enemies.

There is something very pathetic in the story of the early life of
Ptolemy V., Epiphanes, who became king, at five years of age, his
father dead, his mother murdered, so soon that he could scarcely have
remembered her, and he left in the hands of her murderers. Polybius
gives a picture of these events in the following words: “The next step
of Agathocles was to summon a meeting of the Macedonian guards. He
entered the assembly accompanied by the young king and his own sister,
Agathoclea. At first he feigned not to be able to say what he wished
for tears, but after again and again wiping his eyes with his chlamys,
he at length mastered his emotion, and, taking the young king in his
arms, he spoke as follows: Take this boy, whom his father on his death
bed placed in this lady’s care (pointing to his sister) and confided to
your loyalty, men of Macedonia. Her affection has but little influence
in securing the child’s safety; it is on you that safety now depends,
‘his fortunes are in your hands.’” He then proceeded to inveigh against
Tlepolemus, governor of Pelusium, and a general in the army, who was
evidently popular with the soldiers and in so doing overshot his mark.

The murder of the queen, and even of the man into whose hands the
letter ordering the same had fallen, seems gradually to have been
traced (though at first kept secret) to its true authors, and this
added to other acts of cruelty and unlawful seizure of power, raised
a storm of feeling among the soldiers and the populace generally,
against Agathocles and his associates, and his words were received with
“hootings and loud murmurs,” so that he began to fear the worst for
himself and made haste to escape. The fury of a mob, of any nationality
and at any period of the world’s history, once raised, is not easy
to allay, and seldom have such uprisings been known, unattended by
bloodshed. In this, as in other cases, there were some leaders ready
to fan rather than to extinguish the flame of popular wrath, and they
determined to overthrow the obnoxious ministers.

The whole city was in a ferment and the next morning the Macedonian
guard broke open the palace, seized the person of the little king,
placed him on horseback and led him among the people, who shouted and
clapped their hands. They then put him on the royal seat and extracted
from the, doubtless frightened, child permission to surrender to the
populace “those who had injured him or his mother.” Pitiful it must
have been to see a mere baby placed in such circumstances. Whether he
really understood anything of what was going on, or had any affection
for those in question we cannot tell. It of course resulted in the
murder of Agathocles and all his kinsfolk. A fate well deserved perhaps
by most of them, but horrible to contemplate. But the dreadful thirst
for blood was awakened in the angry crowd, and there were bound to be
victims, more or less numerous.




CHAPTER TWENTY-SIXTH.

PTOLEMY QUEENS (CONTINUED).


Thus tragically was ushered in the reign of the boy-king, Ptolemy V,
Epiphanes, the Illustrious, whose dates are 205-182 B. C., and whose
pre-nomen or throne name, found on his cartouch, means “heir of the
(two) father loving gods, chosen of Ptah, strength of the Ka of Ra,
living image of Amen.” Too young to take matters into his own hands,
the power seems to have been divided between Tlepolemus as military,
and Aristomenes, called the king’s tutor, as civil administrator of
affairs. The reign of a minor is apt to be distracted by conflicts of
one sort and another, and this proved no exception.

In the case of the youthful son of Alexander the Great it was the
generals of his father’s army who wrested from him his inheritance;
in that of the young Ptolemy it was the foreign powers, the kings
of Macedonia and Syria, who sought to do so. But the Romans proved
the instruments of the boy’s salvation, though not for his sake, and
conquered in battle and made tributary the men who were his enemies,
while the two ministers who had taken his affairs in charge guarded him
well at home.

There are also some who maintain that the guardianship of the boy’s
rights was offered to the Romans, though the weight of evidence seems
against this idea. Certain it is, however, that Ptolemy Epiphanes, or
those who acted for him, sent very submissive embassies to this great
and growing power, destined eventually to swallow up his country, or
rather to become possessed of its sovereignty.

We cannot trace the course of foreign wars or native rebellions, but
must return to the more domestic aspect of the history. The little
king lived in Alexandria and very early in his life there seems to
have been some suggestion of his marriage with the daughter of the
king of Syria, and in the seventh year of his reign, when he must have
been about twelve, it is said that the betrothal took place. It was of
course a political alliance, to cement a good understanding between the
two nations. How much greater the privileges and the independence, at
least on the question of marriage, of the private individual over the
sometimes envied king or queen.

At thirteen or fourteen years of age Ptolemy V was crowned at Memphis
and the decree of the Rosetta Stone was issued. It begins “In the reign
of the young,” and then goes on to enumerate the king’s ancestors,
to name priests and priestesses, and to give a detailed list of the
benefits his Majesty had bestowed upon the kingdom, “in requittal of
which the gods have given him health, victory, power and all other
good things, his sovereignty remaining to him and his children for all
time. With propitious fortune. It seemed good to the priests of all
the temples in the land to increase greatly the existing honors of the
king, Ptolemy, his parents, grand-parents, etc.” As Ptolemy was but
in early childhood when he is said to have bestowed so many benefits
upon the kingdom it was to his ministers rather than to himself that
any such praise was due. Possibly it was a mutual agreement between
them and the priests to strengthen his power, since there seemed more
chance of dispute in the case of a child than when a full-grown man had
ascended the throne.

The Rosetta Stone has been virtually the key which has, in part at
least, revealed the mysteries of the Hieroglyphics to Europeans. The
inscription was written in Hieroglyphic, the original form of Egyptian
writing, in the Demotic, the subsequent and common language of later
dynasties, and in Greek, which was of course largely introduced by
the Ptolemies. And as the three inscriptions are approximately alike,
Greek scholars were able to interpret the two former by the last. The
original Rosetta Stone is in the British Museum, but copies of it may
be seen in many of the collections abroad, and in the United States,
such as the University of Pennsylvania, etc.

Meanwhile the boy-king was growing to manhood and there is record of
his being trained to equestrianism and athletic sports. At a certain
banquet an ambassador, in speaking of the king, “said a great deal in
his praise, quoting anecdotes of his skill and boldness in hunting, as
well as his excellence in riding and the use of arms;” and ended by
averring in proof of this that “the king on horseback once transfixed a
bull with a javelin.”

When Ptolemy Epiphanes was but sixteen or seventeen his marriage took
place, the new queen being presumably near his age. With her we enter
on the puzzling list of Cleopatras, and she seems to have been a woman
of character and ability, and worthy of respect. Her father, Antiochus
of Syria, a country with which the inter-marriages of the kings of
this dynasty were very frequent, brought her to the bridegroom, with a
splendid retinue, and the nuptials were handsomely celebrated at the
border town of Raphia. It was here that the mother of the king had
ridden before the troops many years previously to encourage them on the
eve of the battle between Ptolemy IV. and Antiochus. The dowry of the
bride was the taxes of Coele, Syria and Palestine, but not, it is said,
the possession of the land.

The young queen loyally accepted the duties and obligations attaching
to her new position; “Thy people shall be my people” was the spirit
that distinguished her actions, and she stood to this even when her
husband’s interests were opposed to those of her native country. It
is said of her that she was a “vigorous and prudent woman, and she
certainly introduced new blood into a stock likely to degenerate from
the constant unions of close blood relations.” Nor do there seem to be
any special stories recorded of cruelty on her part, such as we have
in other instances of Ptolemy queens. We may presume also that she had
more or less claim to beauty and had attractions both of person and
mind.

Like his predecessors, Ptolemy V. worked upon the temples, notably that
of Philæ. The temple of Asklepias was especially credited to this king,
and we cannot but suppose that the queen, too, had a great interest. An
inscription, the duplicate of the Rosetta Stone, was placed on one of
the walls at Philæ by Epiphanes, but afterwards carved out by another
ruler.

Cleopatra I, like some others of the Ptolemy women, was the superior
of the man to whom she was united, yet, as far as we can judge at
this distance of time, the marriage was on the whole a harmonious
and satisfactory one. At least no special quarrels are recorded and
the husband did not make way with his wife in the all too common
fashion. She seems to have been joined with her husband in public
acts, as were Ptolemy Philadelphus and Arsinoe II, even when these
were directed against her father and her native land. Mahaffy says
that it is noteworthy that Livy speaks of the king and queen as of
equal importance, but perhaps this may have referred to Cleopatra I.
and her son when she was regent, rather than to her husband. Livy says
“Ambassadors were sent from Ptolemy and Cleopatra, sovereigns of Egypt,
with congratulations that Manius Acilius, the consul, had driven King
Antiochus from Greece, and advising the Romans to send their army
over to Asia, that all Syria as well as Asia was in a panic, that the
sovereigns of Egypt were prepared to do whatever the senate desired.” A
proof that Egypt was now continually bending before the power of Rome.

Ptolemy wished to secure some of the Syrian provinces and of the queen
it is said “she was always striving to spread her influence towards the
North.”

Disputes had arisen between the priests and the crown as to the dowries
of the late deified queens, which had become part of the temple
revenues, and were again absorbed by the throne. This with other causes
resulted in a revolution led by the last native prince whose claim
preceded that of the Ptolemies, which was put down with much cruelty
and broken faith by the king. It is these insurrections, occurring
frequently in the reigns of the later Ptolemies, that are believed to
be one cause of Egypt’s submissive attitude towards Rome.

Ptolemy Epiphanes seems less odious than his predecessor, but as he
grew to manhood, he, too, was accused of cruel murders, among them
that of his tutor Aristomenes, to whose care it seems as if he must
have owed much. The cartouch of Ptolemy V. is said to be the most
rarely found on Ptolemic buildings. He also worked at Edfu and Philæ,
the “so-called chapel of Aesculapius,” at the latter place having
an inscription declaring it to be founded by “Ptolemy Epiphanes and
Cleopatra and their son, to Imhotep, the son of Ptah.” In modern times
a temple said to be built by them, at Antæpolis, was undermined and
destroyed by the Nile.

The king died, murdered by poison by some of his courtiers, while still
a young man, in his twenty-ninth year and twenty-fifth of his reign,
and was succeeded by his son under the guardianship of his mother.
Whether the queen deeply mourned her husband or whether his increasing
vices had alienated her from him we cannot say. She was doubtless an
ambitious woman and not averse to holding the reins of power. There are
coins of hers issued during her regency. She is there called queen,
which is not the case with all the wives of the different kings, and
appears as Isis (though with a less conventional face than some),
wearing a corn wreath, above which are a globe and horns. A copper
coin gives her as Isis with long curls and a band with corn. She seems
to have been an able ruler and survived her husband some eight years,
dying in 174 B. C. before she had fairly entered on middle life. There
were several children of this marriage, and, as if for the bewilderment
of students, the sons are called Ptolemy and the daughter Cleopatra.
During the queen’s regency Egypt seems to have remained peaceful and we
have no revolting tales of murder or general bloodshed.

The matter of succession now became somewhat involved, so often was it
disputed and so frequently divided between rival claimants. Mahaffy
says, “From henceforth we have almost constantly rival brothers
asserting themselves in turn, queen mothers controlling their king
sons—intestine feuds and bloodshed in the royal house, till the stormy
end of the dynasty with the daring Cleopatra VI.”

Some call Philometer the VI and some the VII. If the latter there was
probably an elder brother, Ptolemy Eupator, thus called the VI, who
survived his father but for a brief period, being nominally king,
and then died. Certain it is that the Syrian Cleopatra I was regent
and that one of her sons, Philometor, succeeded to the actual power,
173 B. C. He reverted to the earlier customs and married his sister
Cleopatra, who then became the second queen of the name. This union is
believed to have taken place a year after the death of his mother in
173 B. C. Perhaps had she lived she might have arranged for a different
connection.

The peaceful period of the regency of Cleopatra I. now came to an end
and Egypt prepared to seize the lands which had furnished the dowry of
the late queen, the three powers, Egypt, Syria and Rome being involved,
the two first in active warfare. This resulted in the capture and
imprisonment of the Egyptian king by the Syrian monarch, Antiochus
IV at a battle which occurred on the borders of Egypt. The people of
Alexandria, who it is said spoke more completely the voice of Egypt
than Paris does of France, made a counter move by raising to the throne
the younger brother, a lad of fifteen or sixteen, who took the name of
Euergetes II, later called Physcon, the “pot bellied” or “the fat,”
Ptolemy VI, and who in his proportions accentuated the usual liberal
outline of the Ptolemy race. The youth proved strong and ambitious
enough to hold on to the power thus secured and never willingly relaxed
his grasp.

Antiochus then attacked Alexandria with the nominal purpose of
restoring Philometer. Through their mother the young kings were of
course related to the invader, but the relationship seems to have had
little effect in preventing a contest. Different authorities give
different names and numbers to the various Ptolemy kings and we have
taken Mahaffy, who has devoted much time to the study of this period,
as our special guide.

Antiochus IV finally left Philometer at Memphis and returned home.
The latter, apparently seeing the folly of a divided sovereignty and
realizing that he would no longer be recognized as sole king, made
overtures to his brother and, owing, it is said, to the mediation of
their sister Cleopatra, they came to terms in 170 B. C. This compact
roused Antiochus IV. to a renewed attack. The beseeching embassies
of the Ptolemies to Rome, however, finally produced an effect and
Antiochus was ordered to withdraw and the powerful Romans virtually
held a sort of protectorate over Egypt till they finally and absolutely
absorbed it. The embassies of Philometer and Cleopatra II professed
that they were more indebted to the Senate and people of Rome, than to
their own parents, more than to the immortal gods since by their help
they had been relieved from Antiochus, and Rome seemed disposed to keep
up the agreeable sentiment, as their embassy is recorded as having
brought a purple gown and vest and an ivory chair to King Philometer,
and an embroidered gown and a purple robe for Queen Cleopatra II.

The king and queen are spoken of in all solemn datings as “gods
Philopatores.” On the walls of the temple at Der el Medineh there are
pictures of Ptolemy VII and IX and Cleopatra II, and a Syrian coin
of Philometer gives a strong head and face. There are inscriptions
relating to Ptolemy Philometer, wife and children, in Nubia. It was
after the Romans restored Philometer to Egypt that he and his queen
made their solemn progress to Memphis.

Some of the so-called “friends of the king” tried to make trouble
between the brothers and to induce the younger to slay the elder,
implying that Philometer had designs upon him. But in this instance
Euergetes, usually regarded with abhorrence, showed himself at his
best and dismissed suspicions and to prove their harmony went with
his brother in royal apparel to show themselves to the people. A
quarrel, however, eventually broke out between them, Philometer was
expelled and threw himself on the protection of the Romans, who were
thus continually able to interfere in the affairs of Egypt. The Romans
decreed that the kingdom should be divided between the two, which of
course gave satisfaction to neither, and Euergetes II went to Rome to
protest against the division. An interesting and almost an amusing
episode is connected with this visit when, it is said, Euergetes asked
Cornelia, the mother of the Gracci, to marry him. The lady, however,
declined, “probably,” says one writer, “she held him in such esteem
as an English noblewoman now would hold an Indian Rajah proposing
marriage.”

The quarrels and fighting between the two brothers continued, but
finally Euergetes attacked Cyprus which had been adjudged by the Romans
to Philometer, and was forced to surrender. Philometer now showed
himself the generous one, for he forgave Euergetes, restored him to
Cyrene and for the last eight or nine years of his reign remained at
peace with him.




CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVENTH.

PTOLEMY QUEENS (CONTINUED).


Cleopatra II appears with her husband Philometor, Ptolemy VII, in
statutes excavated at Cyprus, which were set up “at a temple to the
Paphian Aphrodite,” yet we know little of her. There is also an appeal
spoken of by Josephus in which a certain Jew begs the king and queen’s
permission to build a temple to the God of Israel and reports their
majesties’ favorable reply, but the story is not altogether credited.
We hear also of the king and queen receiving other petitions, usually a
popular action. Polybius, whose testimony seems so generally full and
reliable was in Egypt during the reign of Ptolemy Philometer.

Of course there was a daughter of Philometor and Cleopatra II, also
called Cleopatra, whom Philometor gave in marriage to an aspirant to
the throne of Syria (though apparently not the rightful heir) called
Alexander Bala, and accompanied the princess to Ptolemais in Palestine,
where the ceremony took place, probably about 150 B. C. After this
Ptolemy VII discovered a real or pretended conspiracy against his life,
in which his new son-in-law was implicated. He then went over to the
side of the other claimant to the Syrian throne, Demetrius Nicator, and
regardless of the marriage contract previously concluded, transferred
his daughter to him. She seems to have been still in the power of her
father, rather than that of her husband, and neither she nor her mother
appear to have had any voice in the matter. It is possible she may not
have really lived with Bala at all.

Ptolemy Philometor himself was crowned king at Antioch, and it is on
this account, probably, we have the Syrian coin with his head, but he
evidently did not care to retain the position, for he finally persuaded
the people to accept Demetrius in his stead.

Philometor, Ptolemy VII., died, as had few of his race, in, or rather
as the result of, a battle, he was thrown from an elephant, or some
say a horse, like Keraunos, and wounded by his enemies with fatal
results following, first having learned of the death of Bala, with
whom he had been fighting. In contrast with his brother Euergetes II.
he is spoken well of by many writers, and his gentleness and humanity
are dwelt upon, which recalls the familiar axiom that “all things go
by comparison.” So some speak highly of and some judge him harshly.
In youth he is said to have been handsome, with a countenance full of
sweet expression. His death occurred 146 B. C.

There were now again rival claimants for the throne, Euergetes II,
Physcon, the brother of the late king, with whom the kingdom had
been divided, and Ptolemy Philometor’s son, Ptolemy Neos, Philopator
II, Ptolemy VIII, whose cause his mother Cleopatra II. espoused.
But Physcon proved to be the more powerful and either directly or
indirectly murdered his young nephew, feeling that while the boy
lived his own claim to the throne would not be secure. It is said the
unfortunate heir had been recognized as the crown prince over the whole
empire, not only at Cyprus, but at Philæ, for Professor Cayce found on
the island of Huseh a granite slab, which had supported figures of the
king and queen with this youth standing between them.

The list of queens, a puzzling one, as all must admit, is as follows:
Ptolemy I, Sotor, married Eurydike, and Berenike I, Ptolemy II,
Philadelphus, married Arsinoe I and Arsinoe II; Ptolemy III, Euergetes
I, married Berenike II; Ptolemy IV, Philopator, married Arsinoe III;
Ptolemy V, Epiphanes, married Cleopatra I; Ptolemy VI, Eupator, died in
childhood. Ptolemy VII, Philometor, married Cleopatra II; Ptolemy VIII,
Philopator II, Neos, was murdered in youth. Ptolemy IX, Euergetes II,
Physcon, married Cleopatra I, widow of his brother, and Cleopatra III,
his niece. Ptolemy X, Lathyrus, married Cleopatra IV, and subsequently
Selene, his sisters. Ptolemy XI, Alexander, married Berenike III, whose
parentage seems in doubt. Ptolemy XII, Alexander II, married this same
Berenike, his stepmother. Ptolemy XIII, Auletes married Cleopatra V,
surnamed Tryphæna. Ptolemy XIV and Ptolemy XV reigned in conjunction
with their sister, Cleopatra VI, to whom they were successively
married, and died young, as did Ptolemy XVI, her son Cæsarion, who died
unmarried.

Within the year (and some say the murder of her son occurred during
the nuptial ceremonial) Physcon married the widow of his brother,
Cleopatra II. Evidently no love was lost between them; how could it
be under the circumstances? If this marriage, perhaps, insisted on
by the Alexandrian party of Cleopatra II, she having a claim to the
crown, jointly with her brothers, there seems to have been one son,
Memphites, who soon died, or was murdered, it is even reported, by his
own unnatural father, who feared a rival.

Cleopatra II. had two daughters of the same name. The elder was married
first to Alexander Bala and then to Demetrius Nicator of Syria. She
seems to have been an embodiment of Ptolemaic cruelty and vice. When
her second husband was taken prisoner, she accepted his brother,
Antiochus Sidetes, in his stead, and placed him upon the throne. But
nine years afterwards, on the return of Demetrius, murdered Sidetes and
her son Seleukos, who had attempted to assume the crown. She had also,
it is said, prepared poison for her second son, Antiochus Grippus, but
he discovered her intent and forced her to swallow the fatal draught
herself. Her younger sister Cleopatra, only a year or two after
Physcon’s marriage with her mother Cleopatra II, he also took to wife,
thus establishing one of the most revolting connections entered into
by any member of this atrocious family, yet, strange to say, both were
recognized in public acts as queens of Egypt, the younger bearing the
title of Cleopatra III. Incomprehensible and repellant as this seems,
it appears well authenticated. There is a relief of Philometer, clad in
a white mantle, and accompanied by one of the Cleopatras. At Kom Ombos
there is on the wall of the temple a picture of Ptolemy VII, and also
of Ptolemy IX, between the goddesses and again of Horus bestowing gifts
on Ptolemy IX. and the two Cleopatras. We read of an inscription from
Kos, too, where the children of both were perhaps educated, in which
“the king and his two queens honor with a golden crown and gilded image
the tutor of their children.”

In 146 B. C. Physcon apparently married Cleopatra II. and two or three
years later her daughter. In 130 or 129 B. C. he was exiled and obliged
to flee the country, Cleopatra II reigning alone for about two years,
at the expiration of which time the absent king returned and again
took the power into his own hands. In his private life Ptolemy Physcon
appears as a monster, in his public career he has been esteemed by
some writers as a good, or at least a great king. That is, his sway
was widely extended, and he built or added to innumerable temples to
the gods. At Edfu, begun by Ptolemy III, Euergetes, in 237 B. C., he
completed the great hypostile hall, in 122 B. C. At Der-el-Medineh he
finished the graceful temple begun by Ptolemy IV. and dedicated to
Hathor. At El Kab he built a rock temple, while at Karnak and many
other places he added his portion to the great whole. “At Thebes we
find no reign so marked.” He seems to have showed special favor to the
native Egyptian population, but is credited with many cruelties to
others. With Rome he kept up friendly, if subservient, relations.

At what precise time the elder Cleopatra passed away from the scene
we do not know, but she died before Physcon, leaving her successor
to a certain extent to re-enact her story. Physcon gave his daughter
Tryphena to Grippus, the Syrian prince who had poisoned his mother, and
her aunt, Cleopatra. Ptolemy IX, Physcon, died in 117 B. C., having
reigned twenty-nine years since the death of his brother, Philometor.
His widow, Cleopatra III, Cocce, succeeded to the power and is
sometimes called queen, sometimes regent. She appears to have held the
position for a while alone, and then her son, Ptolemy X, Philometor,
or Sotor II (Lathyrus), was associated with her. She was, it is said,
a “strong and remarkable woman,” considerably younger than her husband
and having great influence with him. She succeeded in having the elder
son, and natural successor, sent away, as governor to Cyprus, and thus
deprived him of the power of claiming his inheritance. She preferred
her younger son Alexander, whom she had made independent king of
Cyprus, but the people would not accept him, and Ptolemy X (Lathyrus),
as has been said, succeeded. He apparently was already married to his
sister, another Cleopatra, called the IV, but his mother obliged him,
from motives not clear to us, though it has been suggested that it was
because only such children as were born to the purple, could reign;
to put her away and marry a younger sister Selene. This queen’s name
does not appear in some of the inscriptions which read “in the name of
Queen Cleopatra and King Ptolemy, gods Philometores, Sotores and his
children.”

This Cleopatra IV was, no more than the rest of the Ptolemy women, meek
or submissive. She naturally resented the treatment she had received
and offered herself and the riches of which she seemed possessed to
one of the claimants of the Syrian throne, but only to meet the too
common fate, for the wife of the said Antiochus Grippus, her own sister
Tryphæna, caused her to be murdered. Some of the Egyptian princesses,
as has been narrated, went to Syria, and of them it is said that “they
show the usual features ascribed to Ptolemaic princesses—great power
and wealth which makes an alliance with them imply the command of large
resources in men and money; mutual hatred, disregard of all ties of
family and affection; the dearest object fratricide—such pictures of
depravity as make any reasonable man pause and ask whether human nature
had deserted these women and the Hyrcanian tiger of the past taken its
place.”

The history of the Jews is largely involved with that of Egypt during
many of the Ptolemy reigns, but it is not within the scope of this
small monograph to include these relationships in the more purely
personal story. The new king, to a greater or less extent, now held
the power, as testified to by the coinage bearing simply “the year
of Lathyrus” instead of his mother Cleopatra III. He appears in a
copper coin clad in an elephant skin, and there are also joint coins
of Cleopatra III and Alexander. The queen, indisposed to yield her
authority, succeeded in raising the populace against Lathyrus, so
that he fled to Cyprus, his brother Alexander returning from there
and sharing the throne with his mother. Lathyrus meanwhile was
attempting to set up a kingdom in Palestine, but the powerful queen
wrested it from him and added it to her own dominions. Ptolemy Apion,
an illegitimate son of Ptolemy Physcon, had been ruling in Cyrene
the home and possession of the former queen, Berenike II, which he
left on his death to the Roman people, who thus, whenever their other
warlike entanglements permitted, tightened their grasp on everything
Egyptian, but the Egyptian monarchs, busy with more personal and family
difficulties, did not interfere.

Ptolemy X, Alexander I, reigned with his mother till 101 B. C. when,
weary perhaps of her powerful hand, which kept him from full possession
of the throne, he murdered her. Possibly she would have done the
like to him, but it seems a shocking and ungrateful return for the
preference for him which she at first so evidently showed. Other
authorities throw some doubt on this matricide, but the weight of
opinion seems to certify to it.

The next queen is spoken of as Cleopatra, Berenike IV, or Berenike III,
and her name is sometimes associated both with Alexander, whom she
married, and the queen mother. She is believed to have been a daughter
of Sotor II (Lathyrus), and hence Alexander’s niece. This marriage may
not have been agreeable to the elder queen, who so evidently hated her
elder son, the father of the bride. This king is sometimes spoken of as
“Ptolemy, also called Alexander, the god Philometor.” In the midst of
these domestic quarrels and public difficulties, the king yet kept up
the usual habit of temple building and his name appears in connection
with several, especially Denderah. Says Mahaffy: “It is difficult not
to suspect in the continued building of the same temples by Philometor
and Euergetes II, of Sotor II, and of Alexander, the influence of the
great ladies who lived through the change of kings without stay or
intermittence of their royalty,” though, strange to say, the priests of
Edfu do not speak of them. Alexander appears in communion with the gods
and, triumphing over his enemies. “It is also certain that the crypts
of the temple of Denderah, finished by Cleopatra VI, were commenced
according to an ancient plan by the X and XI Ptolemies.”

After the murder of Cleopatra III the people rose against Alexander and
recalled Lathyrus, who, upon regaining the crown, pursued his brother,
who was slain in a naval battle, thus leaving his widow Berenike III to
share with her father the Egyptian throne. She seems to have lived at
peace with him after his return and is regarded by some as co-regent or
ruler, by others as not assuming power till after his death.

Lathyrus is considered as among the gentler and better members of
the Ptolemy family. Even so he put down a rebellion of the native
population with great severity and razed Thebes to the ground. Dying,
at about the age of sixty, he left the kingdom in the hands of his
daughter, Cleopatra IV, Berenike III, who reigned for some six months,
when Alexander, son of Alexander I, by another marriage, returned
from Rome and was accepted as king, under the title of Alexander II,
Ptolemy XII, sharing the throne with Berenike, the queen. Though his
stepmother, there was probably no great disparity in their years,
and it was by the suggestion of the Roman dictator, Sylla, that he
contracted this strange alliance. But the abhorrent connection was of
brief duration, for Alexander II murdered his wife and was himself
murdered in turn by her household troops, within a month. As queen or
regent she had been associated with the royal power for a number of
years, and this prompt avengement of her death seems to prove that she
had her share of popularity.

At this period, and indeed for a long time, what the Alexandrians
willed seems to have been law to the whole country.

The Ptolemy queens were women, as a rule, presumably handsome,
certainly able and sagacious, ambitious and brave, daring and cruel.
To differentiate them accurately, particularly the latter members of
the family, who were on the throne briefly, and in quick succession,
requires a more extended knowledge of the subject than has yet been
secured, either by the researches of students or the “finds” of
archaeologists.

The deaths last mentioned extinguished, it is said, the claim of
legitimate Ptolemy heirs to the Egyptian throne, but other writers
assert that this is probably a Roman invention to justify their
ultimate seizure of the country and that princes were living who
would be recognized elsewhere as legal successors. Be this as it
may, Ptolemy, familiarly known as Auletes (the flute player), son of
Lathyrus, with the bar sinister, now came from Syria and assumed the
crown, under the title of Ptolemy XIII. (Neos Dionysus, Philopater III,
Philadelphus II), in 81 B. C. This was evidently with the consent of
the Egyptians themselves and the tacit permission of Rome, to whom some
even claim that Alexander had willed his kingdom. The Senate, however,
did not give him official recognition, though he made great efforts
and offered many bribes to secure it. A stele speaks of a high priest
“who placed the uræus crown on the head of the new king of Egypt, on
the day that he took possession of Upper and Lower Egypt. He landed at
Memphis, he came into the temple of Qe, with his nobles, his wives and
his children.”

The sons of the Egyptian princess Silene also came from Syria to
Rome to assert a better right to the Egyptian succession, but were
unsuccessful. The Romans engaged in other wars and interests, for the
time being, concerned themselves little with the Egyptian question.

Tryphæna, Cleopatra V, possibly a sister of the king, was his legal
consort and his eldest daughter, Berenike IV, was probably born 77
B. C. The last Cleopatra about 68 B. C., and later another daughter,
Arsinoe, and two sons. Berenike was so much older than the other
children that some suppose a second marriage, of which, however, no
official record has been found. The imputation of illegitimacy has been
thrown both on the king and his celebrated daughter, but the Romans,
as previously stated, may, for their own purposes, have accepted or
disseminated the idea. The first Ptolemy had in a sense wrested the
country from its native rulers, and his successors were only receiving
in their turn what they had meted out.

Like his predecessors, Ptolemy XIII built on the temples, and there are
pictures of him between two goddesses in the favorite mode and in other
situations. In spite of this he is spoken of as the “most idle and
worthless of the Ptolemies.” His life “idle, worthless, devoted to the
orgies of Dionysus (whence his title), and disgracing himself by public
competitions on the flute (whence his nick-name), he has not a good
word recorded of him.” And Cicero says he was plaintive and persuasive
when in need, but worthless and tyrannous when in power. The direct
testimony of Cicero and Diodorus Siculus (which we possess) in regard
to this period is of great value.

It was the debasing of the coinage that especially caused the revolt
that obliged Auletes to flee the country, in addition to the fact that
he lent no help to his brother at Cyprus, overpowered by the Romans.
Auletes had assumed the crown in 81 B. C., and kept possession for a
number of years, but a revolt of the Alexandrians, for the reasons
given above, forced him to fly in 58 B. C.

When he was thus driven from the country Cleopatra V, Tryphæna (whom
some call his wife and some his eldest daughter), with the spirit of
that dominant race of women, at once assumed the crown, of which,
however, death deprived her within the year. She was followed by
Berenike IV, possibly her daughter, certainly that of Auletes, who
ruled for two years, marrying first Seleukos of the royal house of
Syria (whom she put away, finding him weak and unsatisfactory), and
substituted Archelaos, the high priest of Komana. Seleukos is supposed
to have been the person who stole the golden coffin of Alexander the
Great and replaced it by a glass one.

From subsequent events it is quite evident that Berenike IV possessed
the usual characteristics of the Ptolemy women, both in capacity and
ambition, having no intention of handing back the authority she had
assumed to its previous possessor, her father though he might be.

But Auletes, either by persuasion or bribery, secured the powerful aid
of the Romans, whom Egypt was no longer strong enough to resist. The
Roman general Gabinius invaded Egypt and conquering in the battle put
the husband of Berenike IV to death, restored Auletes and left him to
mete out further retribution as he would.

No pleadings for mercy, no claims of relationship ever stayed the
bloody hand of a Ptolemy from executing his will, and, doubtless
regarding her as a traitor, Auletes put his daughter to death, of which
details are not given. There then remained two daughters, Cleopatra
and Arsinoe, and two sons merely called Ptolemy. Restored in 55 B. C.
Ptolemy XIII only lived till 51 B. C. and died, bequeathing his kingdom
jointly to his eldest daughter and son and disregarding the fact that
he had virtually mortgaged it to the Romans he adjured them to carry
out his intentions, calling all the gods to witness. A double copy
of his will was made, the one being sent to Rome, the other kept in
Alexandria.




CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.

CLEOPATRA VI.


We have shown how the Persian rule in Egypt was followed by that of the
Ptolemies, and at first the union between prince and people was close
and satisfactory. From Ptolemy I to Cleopatra VI the rulers identified
themselves with the interests, and especially with the religion of
the nation, with whom they were not allied by blood, built cities and
temples and, the earlier members of the dynasty at least, wrought for
the general good. In the case of most of the later kings, however, they
were more cruel and oppressive, and revolts were more common than at
first.

The architecture, especially the portrait sculpture of the Ptolemy
period, was inferior to some of earlier date, but in the encouragement
of literature, the building of libraries and other public edifices, and
the extending of commerce the race distinguished itself.

As regents or independent rulers their queens held sway. The family
intermarried to an extent shocking to Christian ideas, and Ptolemy
after Ptolemy took his sister or other near relatives, usually called
Arsinoe, Berenike or Cleopatra, to wife. These close relationships,
however, did not seem to strengthen the family affections—it is a
blood-stained history, and the murders were almost as numerous as the
unions. Various towns were built and called after the queens, Arsinoe
and Berenike, but though Cleopatra seems to have been a favorite name,
and there were, six or seven of them in succession, this name was not
so often used as the cognomen of a town.

There are a few names in the world’s history that stand alone. Many
may share in the same, but to speak them is to call up one dominating
image. In this sense there was but one Caesar, but one Washington, but
one Eve, but one Semiramis, and to this class belongs Cleopatra. There
are others, such as Helen or Troy and Mary Stuart, who have shared with
these high reputation, but in these cases further identification is
needed than the single name. Cleopatra stands among the few daughters
of Eve pre-eminent for wit, charm, power and perhaps beauty, and to
this must be added ambition and vice.

“The laughing queen who held the world’s great hands,” having won the
heart of the world’s greatest rulers, yet lays her magic touch upon the
centuries. Artists and writers have never tired of limning her personal
charms and special characteristics. No colors have been too bright,
none too dark to be used. Shakespeare, has pictured her with his
immortal genius, and hundreds of others, with more or less skill, have
attempted the same task. Protean in shape, no two perhaps resemble each
other. In the conception of some, she is slender, graceful, exquisitely
beautiful, and at the other extreme, as in the old tapestry in the New
York Museum, she is like a fat Dutch woman, a decadence from Rubens’
overblown beauties; so each land has pictured her according to its own
ideal.

Some have denied her pre-eminent beauty and the conventional portrait
of her which still exists upon the wall at Denderah, as well as her
face upon the few battered coins of her time which have come down to
us, scarcely suggest it. But the woman who made men her slaves at a
single interview surely lacked no charm that nature could bestow.
Unbridled both in passions and ambitions, she knew no limit to either
and grasped at universal empire.

The greatest men of her time bowed at her feet, and she changed the
fate of battle with the turning of her vessel’s prow. She was over
twenty when she captivated Caesar, over thirty when Antony became her
slave. Of her numerous lovers, Antony was the chosen of that wayward,
passionate heart. She refused to survive his defeat and death and
perished by her own hand. Though not, strictly speaking, Egyptian
queens, the Ptolemy race were yet queens of Egypt—and thus ended the
long line of female royalties, extending from the dim ages of mythology
to the Roman period.

Cleopatra VI has been described by a late novelist, his picture drawn
perhaps from some historical source, as having “a broad head, wavy
hair, deep-set eyes, full, eloquent mouth and a long, slender throat.”
Charm and talent of the highest order are generally credited to her.
She had a musical voice and was a linguist of ability, skilled in Greek
and Latin and could converse with Ethiopians, Jews, Arabians, Syrians,
Medes and Persians and was proficient in music. Tennyson says of her:

    “Her warbling voice a lyre of wildest range,
    Struck by all passions.”

And another writer, disputing the fact that she is sometimes depicted
as swarthy, says she was “a pure Macedonian of a race akin to and
perhaps fairer than the Greeks.”

Ptolemy XIII, the so-called Auletes, came to the throne in a sense
under the protection of the Romans, and again took possession of the
kingdom. It was at this time that Antony first saw Cleopatra, a girl of
fifteen, and was struck with her beauty, he being Master of Horse to
the conquering general, Gabrinus. But the acquaintance, if such it was,
and not merely a glimpse on Antony’s part, went no further then, and
neither probably anticipated their subsequent relations.

Auletes’ will, demanding that his eldest son and daughter should
succeed him, was accepted by the mixed populace of Alexandria, and in a
degree by the whole country, and for the moment Rome did not interfere.
It was a youthful pair to have laid upon them or undertake such a grave
responsibility—a mere girl and a child. Cleopatra was but sixteen,
Ptolemy only ten. But though young in years, Cleopatra soon showed that
she had both the capacity and ambition of an older woman. The direct
heritage perhaps from one or other parent included beauty and charm,
but a worthless father had but little in the way of character or mental
abilities with which to endow his children, and perhaps it was rather
from her mother that she derived her superior characteristics. With
such paternity and the traditions of the entire race we can hardly
wonder at the instances of vice and cruelty which we find recorded of
this last royal member of her family. That her story is so interwoven
with Roman affairs gives us a clearer knowledge of it than of much of
the previous history, which was included only in that of Egypt and
Syria.

So Cleopatra, a mere girl of sixteen or seventeen, and her brother of
ten, succeeded to the throne and were accepted by the Alexandrians.
But the boy was persuaded by his counsellors to oust his sister, who
was forced to yield and fled to Syria. That she had both adherents and
means, however, is proved by the fact that she did not tamely submit
to this violation of the agreement, but promptly raised an army, and
this alone seems to indicate that, young as she was, she already showed
remarkable abilities and returned to recover her lawful heritage. To
live at peace with each other seemed beyond the power of most of the
Ptolemy race.

At this point Pompey, seeking for allies, turned toward Egypt, and
the father of the young king having been under obligations to him he
made overtures to the boy sovereign. But the party in power, who for
the time being were “the power behind the throne,” decided to receive
him with apparent friendliness, and then treacherously murdered him,
hoping thereby to secure the more powerful friendship of his adversary,
Caesar. Meanwhile the armies of the young king and his sister lay
opposite to each other. Caesar at once came to Egypt and was revolted
at the treacherous deed, but was not in a sufficiently strong position
to punish the murderers. He was received somewhat coldly and had to
proceed with caution, but summoning his legions he remanded that the
youthful contestants for the crown should appear before him and discuss
their claims peacefully, rather than by force of arms.

This was Cleopatra’s opportunity; her strongest weapons were her
personal charms rather than her military powers. At twenty years
of age she must have been in the perfect bloom of her beauty, with
exquisite eyes and coloring, the sweetest of voices, a fascinating
manner, ample powers of wit and rare conversational abilities. To
these she trusted, and not in vain. Her position, her very life was at
stake; her adversaries, who could probably hope for no consideration
at her hands should she again come into power, would no doubt have
been glad to assassinate her had opportunity afforded. Fearing this,
it is said, and time seems to give credit to the story, she hid
herself in a bale of carpet and caused it to be carried to Caesar’s
palace by night. No device which her fertile brain and keen wit could
invent, we may be sure, was lacking in the accessories of the toilette
to produce the effect she desired, to move his pity and secure his
assistance. She played a great stake, perhaps with confidence, perhaps
with trembling of heart, but she won, for from that time forward till
his death Caesar, elderly man though he was, between fifty and sixty
years of age, became her fervent admirer. Rarely, if ever, had woman
accomplished so much in a single interview. She must have been elated
with triumph and renewed confidence in her powers. Yet Caesar did not
attempt to make her sole monarch; he lost his heart, so to speak, but
not his head, as Antony subsequently did. He decreed that the will of
Auletes should be carried out, restored Cyprus to Egypt and proposed
that the younger brother and sister, Ptolemy and Arsinoe, should be
made its governors. He even insisted that the money Cleopatra’s father
had pledged to Rome should be paid. For this purpose it is said the
young king’s plate was ostentatiously pawned.

The king’s chief counsellor, Pothinos, not realizing the strength that
Caesar could command, nor the personal ability of the man with whom he
had to deal, recalled the army and virtually declared war. Cleopatra’s
troops had either been hired mercenaries, who deserted or whose time
had expired, and who went over to what they considered the winning
side, or they had been defeated, for in this emergency she seems to
have been able to afford little support to Caesar. In defending himself
he set fire to the ships in the harbor, and it is even reported that
the great library was burnt, but as various authors make no mention of
it this last disaster is questioned.

Caesar put to death the councillor, Pothinos, and kept with him in
the fortress his new love, the beautiful Cleopatra, and the two boys,
the young king and his brother. The Princess Arsinoe, probably also
beautiful and attractive, and, young as she was, realizing perhaps the
character and ambition of her elder sister, fled to the Egyptian camp,
thus refusing to put herself under the protection of the conquering
Roman, though it was to him she owed her position as ruler of Cyprus;
but distrust was natural and perhaps not unfounded. The Egyptians then
demanded the young king, and Caesar, though virtually master, was not
yet in a sufficiently strong position to refuse, so, knowing that this
mere boy could do him no harm, he released him. It was, however, but
the poor youth’s death warrant, for in the subsequent attack upon the
Egyptians they were driven into the river, and the royal boy came to
his end by drowning, saved by this possibly from even a worse fate.

The Egyptians, disheartened, now gave up the contest. Caesar treated
them with comparative leniency, set Cleopatra with the youngest Ptolemy
as her nominal husband over them and carried the poor Princess Arsinoe
to Rome, where, led in chains, she was among the captives to grace
the triumph. She did not prove to have the power of her sister’s
fascinations to melt his hard heart. Caesar may have considered that
she was in debt to him and had proved ungrateful and treacherous, but
this was an act unworthy of his character and is attributed to the evil
influence of Cleopatra. There is no direct proof of this, though his
subsequent treatment of her sister gives color to the idea.

After Caesar’s departure a child was born to Cleopatra, whom she stated
to be his son, gave him the name of Caesarion, or some say the name
was given by the Alexandrians, and always upheld his royal prerogative
even as against later children of the more beloved Antony. These
irregularities and evil doings seem to have been calmly accepted by the
people, and in inscriptions the boy is entitled, “Ptolemy, also Caesar,
the god Philopator Philometor.” He is to be numbered among the young
princes who came to an untimely end; a brief life and a sad one, yet it
is possible, even probable, that it had its periods of the pleasure and
joy natural to his age, if no prolonged happiness.

Some time between 48 and 44 B. C. Cleopatra left Egypt with her brother
and joined Caesar in Rome. Probably he summoned her to come to him,
more probably it was of her own motion, fearing that out of sight was
out of mind, or might prove so, and that her presence was necessary
to retain over him the influence she had gained. It was a shameful
connection, as Caesar already had a wife, Caepurnia, and caused much
scandal, even in scandalous Rome. She is mentioned by Cicero and
others, but it is not her beauty and her grace that he dwells upon, but
her haughtiness. Knowing full well probably how she was regarded, she
returned the latent contempt which she divined in her visitor, even if
he did not make it apparent, with a proud and supercilious demeanor.
She had nothing to gain from him and she did not seek to charm and
conciliate as she had done with Caesar. She is, however, said to have
promised him books from the Alexandrian library, which seems to suggest
that there was some part of it yet remaining even if it had suffered
damage by fire, but failed to perform her promise.

Many of Caesar’s actions are credited to her influence, and it is even
believed that she desired him to establish an empire with Alexandria
rather than Rome for its capital. The ostensible cause of her visit
to Rome was to negotiate a treaty between the former and the country
over which she nominally ruled. She dwelt in Caesar’s palace across
the Tiber and held court, at which not only Caesar’s adherents, but
his opponents, appeared, and it is said that statues of her, beautiful
probably as the Venus of Pauline Bonaparte, were erected in the temple
of the goddess of Love and Beauty.

Yet this was no position of true dignity for the nominal queen of a
foreign land, and when in 44 B. C. Caesar’s murder took from her his
support and protection she sailed for Egypt, no broken-hearted mourner,
but a woman still ambitious and grasping all the possibilities of
life. The next year she disposed of her last incumbrance and is held
responsible for the murder of her youngest and only surviving brother,
the nominal king. Four years each is the period assigned to her joint
rule with her two brothers. She had no love to spare for her own kin,
and too evidently was glad to be rid of them, even if the suspicion of
her having poisoned the last of her family, who appears to have died in
the same year as Caesar, may chance to be unfounded.

Now for a time Cleopatra bided at home, waiting and watching for
further opportunities of conquests in love or dominion. Life with her
was devoted to self-seeking and pleasure, yet it must have had some
serious moments, some space for display of maternal feeling, some days
and hours devoted to actual study; though it is hard and unfamiliar to
think of her in this aspect else could she not have been mistress of
so many languages as are attributed to her. She, nominally at least,
governed the kingdom, cautiously kept out of Roman entanglements and
pleaded her inability to assist the contestants with subsidies, which,
it is said, Cassius demanded from her on the score of poverty. And
indeed Egypt was in no condition to be either a principal or an ally
in warfare at this time. The people suffered, the queen probably still
lived in luxury and abundance.




CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.

CLEOPATRA VI (CONTINUED).


Now again came Cleopatra’s opportunity. Antony, victorious in the
battle of Philippi, turned his attention to the East, and summoned
Cleopatra before him, she being accused, as it has been seen, perhaps
untruly, of sending aid to his rival, Cassius. Antony was of the party
of Caesar, had delivered his funeral oration and was in a sense his
successor. Like Caesar, also he had a fair and devoted wife, the noble
Fulvia, but no legal bonds could resist “the Sorceress of the Nile.”

Dellius, Antony’s messenger, at once foresaw the probable result of
a meeting between his master and the fascinating Egyptian, advised
her to go in her “best style” and vaunted his chief as the “gentlest
and kindliest of soldiers.” But Cleopatra was no subservient slave to
hasten at the first bidding, and, disregarding many summons, took her
own time and way to comply.

Her interview with Antony was in singular contrast with her first
meeting with Caesar. As a fugitive and suppliant she conquered the
one, with regal pomp and magnificence the other. Perhaps each method
appealed most directly to the man she had to deal with, and her keen
perception indicated the different modes. Cæsar might have shown
himself less malleable to the dominant queen, Antony to the pleading
and powerless maiden.

Josephus speaks of her corrupting Antony with her “love trick,” and
says he was bewitched and utterly conquered by her charms—her “tricks”
were of large and magnificent description. She made great preparations
and gathered together splendid ornaments and costly gifts. At last,
with full and well deserved confidence in her own powers of fascination
she started. Plutarch’s words will best describe the gorgeous pageant
she devised. “She came sailing up the River Cydnus” (Antony was in
Cilicia) “in a barge with gilded stem and outspread sails of purple,
while oars of silver beat time to the music of flutes and pipes and
harps. She herself lay all along under a canopy of cloth of gold,
dressed as Venus in a picture, and beautiful young boys, like painted
Cupids, stood on each side to fan her. Her maids were dressed like sea
Nymphs and Graces, some steered at the rudder, some working at the
ropes. The perfumes diffused themselves from the vessel to the shore,
which was covered with multitudes.” The people vacated the whole place
and hastened to gaze upon the wondrous and beautiful sight, while
Antony remained alone, awaiting the humble petitioner whom perhaps he
expected to appear before him. But finally as Cleopatra intended he
went to her.

“He found the preparations to receive him magnificent beyond
expression, but nothing so admirable as the number of lights, for on
a sudden there was let down together so great a number of branches
with lights in them so ingeniously disposed, some in squares, some in
circles, that the whole thing was a spectacle that has seldom been
equalled for beauty.”

This beginning was the keynote of their future intercourse, amusements,
banquets, entertainments of all sorts. Cleopatra sent Antony the whole
gold service which he admired, and, according to the familiar story,
dissolved her pearl earring in a cup of vinegar or sour wine, which she
made him drink. Pleasure was the goddess whom they worshipped. Unworthy
though it might be of her fine powers and abilities, this was perhaps
the happiest time of Cleopatra’s life. Antony tried to vie with her in
the splendor of his entertainments, but laughingly confessed she far
outdid him.

Something like true love for him seems to have inspired the fickle
queen. Caesar was but three years dead, but he was unmourned and
forgotten. Antony was a handsome man of fine and attractive appearance
and is thus described: “His beard was well grown, his forehead large
and his nose aquiline, giving him altogether a bold, masculine look
that reminded people of the face of Hercules in painting and sculpture.”

He was of the type that is most apt to win general regard generous and
lavish, if not always just or honest, free and easy in manner to his
inferiors, full of jokes and raillery and ready to drink and gamble
with almost any one. Physically the two, the man and the woman, were
splendid specimens of the human race. Morally what can be said of them?

Meanwhile Antony’s wife was fighting his battles at Rome and beseeching
him to return, which he finally promised to do, but the Circe who held
him in thrall willed rather that he should go with her to Alexandria,
and prevailed, for he basely yielded to her arguments and spent the
winter there, giving himself with her wholly up to the pursuit of
pleasure in every form and the wildest revelry.

The inferior officers must have fulfilled their duties more faithfully
than their superiors or the whole land would have been plunged in
anarchy and destruction. The laws were administered, industry and
commerce flourished, and Alexandria continued to be a large, populous
and busy city, full of life and animation and adorned with many
magnificent buildings. The Pharos steadily cast its beneficent light
across the waters to be a guide to mariners; the Temple of Serapis,
on its high platform, called attention to the worship of the gods;
the Library was as yet the casket of valuable treasures; the Museum
was thronged with students and scholars; palaces and public buildings
adorned the beautiful streets, forts and castles, breakwaters and
harbor were laid out and perfected and Alexandria was alone rivalled by
Rome.

The gods, too, no matter what might be the moral aspect of the private
life of royalty, were worshipped and revered, and with the temples of
Denderah and Philæ the name of Cleopatra VI is especially associated.
Though less gigantic than some of the others, the Temple of Hathor, the
Goddess of Love, at Denderah, with that at Philae were none the less
beautiful. Here at Dendera or Denderah, the Tentyra of the Greeks, a
yearly festival was conducted with great splendor. The original edifice
dated back to the earliest period of Egyptian history; it was added to
and altered by the monarchs of the Twelfth Dynasty, by Thothmes III
and by Rameses II and III. It is said to have contained no less than
twelve crypts. On the site of this old building the later Ptolemies had
re-erected a newer structure, and it is here, on the southern, rear
wall was found the conventional portrait of Cleopatra VI, as Isis, and
her son Caesarion.

The exquisite beauty of the ruins at Philae still charm the
beholder—graceful columns and feathery palms, like cameos against
the radiant blue of the sky, the river softly lapping at their feet.
We can imagine the splendor and magnificence of it all, when in the
completeness of its perfection and the queenly Venus with her attendant
train of followers, adding its artistic and picturesque human element
to the scene.

Thus in gaiety and revel the Roman soldier, forgetful of his duties,
and his fair enchantress, passed the time. Says Plutarch further
of Cleopatra: “Plato admits four sorts of flattery, but she had a
thousand. Were Antony serious or disposed to mirth she had at any
moment some new delight or charm to meet his wishes; at every turn she
was upon him, drank with him, hunted with him, and when he exercised
in arms she was there to see. At night she would go rambling with him
to disturb and torment people at their doors and windows, dressed like
a servant woman, for Anthony also went in servant’s disguise.” But it
is further added that “the Alexandrians in general all liked it well
enough and joined good humoredly and kindly in his frolic and play,
saying they were much obliged to Antony for acting the tragic parts at
Rome and keeping his comedy for them.”

The story of the fishing party is among the more innocent of these
frolics. Antony, not having good luck, secretly caused divers to put
fishes upon his hook, which Cleopatra discovering, got beforehand with
him and had a salted, dried fish put on, which of course caused much
amusement and merriment when drawn to the surface, and “the laughing
queen” is reported to have said, “Leave the fishing, General, to us
poor sovereigns of Pharos and Canopus; your game is cities, kingdoms
and provinces!”

But the blackest stain upon this period is the murder of the poor
princess, Arsinoe, who had taken refuge at Miletus, in the temple of
Artemis Leucophryne, and who was put to death there by Antony’s orders,
at the instigation of Cleopatra. Perhaps beautiful and attractive also,
if to a less extent, how different were the experiences of the two
sisters! It seems strange that Arsinoe was not already the wife of and
under the protection of some powerful noble or king—but Fate decreed
differently.

Their mad existence could not continue forever and matters at Rome
grew so serious for Antony that he finally tore himself away from his
enchantress and returned. His wife came to meet him, but died on the
journey, so that legally he was now a free man. One almost wonders
that he did not marry Cleopatra and try to make himself king of Egypt,
as the first Ptolemy had done. But probably his reason forbade the
attempt, and old relations once more began to hold sway. He made peace
with the new Caesar, Octavian, Julius’ nephew, and accepted his offer
of his half-sister, Octavia, the recent widow of Caius Marcellus, for
his wife, the Senate dispensing with the law which obliged a widow
to pay the respect of ten months of single life to her late husband.
Octavia was a fine and beautiful woman, and is spoken of as serious and
gentle, worthy of a better fate than to be the mate of Antony. For a
time, however, she won his regard and an influence for good over him,
recalling him to his better self, and a return to public duties, till
Antony undertook the campaign against Parthion, and came once more
within reach of his former enslaver.

For four years he seems to have been separated from Cleopatra, who had
borne him twins, and with strange patience bided her time. She is said
to have maintained the claims of her eldest son Caesarion and during
all this time to have made no demands on Antony. He had left her, spite
of all she had done, or could do, to detain him, and wounded, mortified
and indignant, perhaps, she held her peace.

Pride is sometimes as strong a motive as love itself. So far solace she
turned, as so many before her had done, to the building and repairing
of temples.

Ebers has assumed in the preface to his “Cleopatra” that the colossal
pair, hand in hand, found at Alexandria in 1892, of which the female
figure is fairly preserved, represent Antony and Cleopatra. Once within
reach of her, Antony’s old passion revived, and he sent for her to
Syria. Very differently she acted from the first time he had summoned
her; she needed no second bidding, but came at his call, and all was
as before between them. He made her numerous and valuable gifts,
acknowledged the twins as his own, giving them the names of Alexander
and Cleopatra, and as surnames the titles of “Sun” and “Moon,” and
utterly broke loose from all his obligations. Once more Cleopatra
triumphed.

She then returned to Egypt, while Antony went further afield; she in
the interval going in state to Jerusalem, to visit Herod the Great.
Says another writer in “The Greek World Under Roman Sway:” “The scene
at Herod’s palace must have been inimitable. The display of counter
fascinations between the two tigers, their voluptuous natures mutually
attracted, their hatred giving to each the deep interest in the other
which so often turns to mutual passion while it incites to conquest,
the grace and finish of their manners, concealing a ruthless ferocity,
the splendor of their appointments—what more dramatic picture can we
imagine in history?”

But in this instance Cleopatra did not make the usual conquest,
though she doubtless exerted all her powers. Although (under unjust
accusation) he was eventually persuaded to put her to death, Herod was
at that time passionately attached to his wife, Mariamme, and withstood
Cleopatra’s fascinations. The reunion of Antony and Cleopatra was most
alarming to him, and he even consulted his council as to whether she,
being in his power, he might dare to make away with her, but the dread
of Antony’s vengeance prevented, and with much polite attention and
many gifts, she was escorted back to Egypt.

Antony’s campaign against Parthia was a failure, but as before two
women stood ready to assist him. Cleopatra on the one hand, accused
of having violated tombs and robbed temples, perhaps for this very
purpose, hastened to Syria to meet him, with provisions and clothing
for his distressed army, while on the other Octavia came to Athens with
even larger supplies. But as against Fulvia, so now, Cleopatra was
victor, and Antony accompanied her to Alexandria. Again he gave himself
up to his mad infatuation, incensing the Romans (who regarded Cleopatra
with horror and aversion) at every step.

Plutarch gives us a graphic picture: “Assembling the people in the
exercise grounds and causing two golden thrones to be placed on a
platform of silver, the one for him, the other for Cleopatra, and at
their feet lower down for their children, he proclaimed Cleopatra
Queen of Egypt, Cyprus, Libya and Coele-Syria, and with her co-jointly
Caesarion, the reported son of the former Caesar. His own sons by
Cleopatra (she bore him two sons and a daughter) were to have the
style of ‘king of kings;’ to Alexander he gave Armenia and Media,
with Parthia, so soon as it should be overcome; to Ptolemy, Phœnicia,
Syria and Cilicia. Alexander was brought before the people in Median
costume, the tiara and upright peak, and Ptolemy in boots and mantle
and Macedonian cap, done about with the diadem, for this was the
habit of the successors of Alexander, as the other was of the Medes
and Armenians. As soon as they had saluted their parents the one was
received by a guard of Macedonians, the other by one of Armenians.”
Cleopatra was then, as at other times when she appeared in public,
dressed in the habit of the goddess Isis.

These theatrical performances were doubtless entertaining to the
people, who, in all countries, love public shows, as well to the
principals who never seemed to tire of their masquerading and lulled to
rest complaints and dissatisfaction, with the existing order of things.
For now Antony and Cleopatra proceeded to Athens to enact similar
scenes. The people there were said to be attached to and to have paid
great regard to Octavia, and Cleopatra claimed the like honors.

But the folly of Antony’s course was raising against him a powerful
faction, and Cæsar Octavian did everything to augment this feeling and
prepared for war. Cleopatra now put all the resources of her kingdom at
Antony’s command and insisted on accompanying him to battle, herself in
charge of the Egyptian fleet. They went to Samos and to Actium, where
Antony gathered together his army and it is said would have fought on
land, but Cleopatra insisted that the strength of the rivals should
be tested at sea. One dominant thought possessed her, as strong, or
stronger, than her love for Antony—it was an invincible dread of being
taken captive by and made to grace the triumph of the brother of the
outraged Octavia. At sea she might hope to escape as she could not on
land. It was this doubtless, more than cowardice, for however wicked
she certainly was a brave woman and not lacking in physical courage,
that made her at the first evidence that the battle was going against
Antony, turn her vessel’s prow and seek safety in flight.

Losing heart and head at once Antony blindly followed. For years
Cleopatra had been his inspiration, his passion, his lode-star; where
else to fly he knew not, his old world was, all too deservedly, against
him. Yet it was not now for joyance that he sought, though he followed
her; he steeled his heart against her sorceries, and shut himself up
in morbid communings with his own spirit. He would not see her and for
some time it was in vain that her maidens pleaded with and tried to
comfort him.

It seemed for the moment as if Cleopatra’s power, she who “governed men
by change” had failed. Her heart cried out,

    “Where is Mark Antony?
    The man my lover with whom I rode sublime
    On Fortune’s neck; we sat as god by god;
    The Nilus would have risen before his time,
    And flooded at our nod.”

But a reconciliation finally ensued. Not to be at peace with Cleopatra
was to give up his last hope, and apparently his only chance for a
renewal of life and power. His army, deserted by its officers, made
submission to Cæsar, who thus remained complete victor.

Arrived in Africa, Cleopatra proceeded to Alexandria, while Antony
remained alone, wandering about in comparative solitude, with only one
of two friends. Reaching home, the queen pretended to have conquered
rather than been defeated, and proceeded to put to death people,
official and otherwise, of whom she wished to be rid. Not for one
moment does she seem to have sat down and given up to despair, as
did Antony. One project after another was entered upon and put in
execution, and when Antony, weary of wandering, at last joined her
again, he found her busy endeavoring to have her fleet dragged across
the Isthmus of Suez, from the Mediterranean to the Red Sea, that she
might escape to the other side and find a place of refuge and safety.
But the Arabians burnt her ships and she was forced to abandon her
gigantic scheme. She also sent embassies to Cæsar, praying that she
might be allowed to retain Egypt for herself and her children and that
Antony might dwell there or in Athens as a private individual. Cæsar
professed to be willing to grant her anything that was reasonable,
but was inexorable as regards Antony. If she would murder Antony, get
him out of the way by whatever means, then her own prospects would be
better.

But wicked, ambitious, and cruel as Cleopatra undoubtedly was, the
most sincere sentiment of her wayward life seems her attachment to
Antony. To this she clung, preferring to share his fate—even death
itself, than abandon or kill him. Nevertheless Antony was jealous and
suspicious of her, and once more shut himself up in moody solitude.
That her star had set, the knell of her doom sounded, Cleopatra must
have clearly foreseen, but to the very end she held her head proudly
and showed unbroken spirit. Not for her in modern parlance was “the
white feather.” Once more and for the last time she tempted Antony to
her side. It must have been impossible for him to withhold his meed of
admiration from this undaunted soul. Once more it was for them both,
“Let us eat and drink for to-morrow we die!” and they plunged into the
same revelry, almost on the brink, as it were, of the grave. For them
life had held little that was better, but the fine flavor of earlier
times must have departed and there could not but be bitterness in their
souls as they partook of their “dead sea fruit.”

Cleopatra now completed her tomb, which, like so many Egyptian
monarchs, she had begun before; in which she gathered together all her
treasures and made strange experiments, with various poisons, on her
unfortunate slaves, seeking to know how death might be most easily
attained. While inexorable fate in the person of the world conqueror,
Octavius Cæsar, moved steadily and surely towards the besotted pair,
Cleopatra _would_ not put herself in the power of the conqueror, she
_would_ not grace his triumph. Rather than that welcome death!

Cæsar on his part was most anxious to possess himself of her valuables
and to prevent her from killing herself, as he feared she might do,
and continued to send her plausible messages, but she did not trust
him. He had taken Pelusium and now advanced to invest Alexandria. The
toils were tightening around the tiger queen, like the iron tower which
enshrouded the prisoner and daily grew smaller, so misfortune closed in
upon her. She deserved her fate, she had even done much to provoke it,
but one cannot withhold some pity and admiration from the dauntless, if
wicked, woman.

Antony plucked up his spirit and made one successful sally against
the surrounding host, but it was but the dying flicker of the candle;
defeat followed, and his fleet and troops deserted to the conqueror.
He accused Cleopatra of treachery, rushing through the streets and
decrying her aloud in his mad fury. She fled and shut herself up with
her maidens and attendants in her well guarded tomb, while Antony
retired to his palace. She then caused word to be sent to him that she
had committed suicide, and a wave of tenderness overwhelmed him, while
he lauded her bravery and begged his attendant to kill him, but the
faithful servant only thrust his sword into his own body, and fell dead
at his master’s feet. In despair Antony wounded himself, but not at
once fatally, and word being brought him that Cleopatra still lived, he
demanded and entreated to be carried to her.

Fearful of Cæsar’s emissaries, she refused to unbar the great stone
door, but she and her maidens drew her dying lover up to the balcony,
exerting all their strength, and laid his on a bed, where he expired in
her arms.

Like a requiem mournfully seems to float in fragmentary cadence,

    “I am dying, Egypt, dying,
    Ebbs the crimson life tide fast,
    …
    His who drunk with thy caresses
    Madly threw a world away,
    …
    And for thee, star-eyed Egyptian,
    Glorious sorceress of the Nile,
    Light the path to Stygian horrors
    With the splendors of thy smile;
    …
    Isis and Osiris guard thee,
    Cleopatra, Rome, farewell!”

Then she gave herself up to a passionate grief, of which we cannot
doubt the sincerity, children—country—_all_ was forgotten in her wild
outburst of sorrow, and still the pitiful story drew to its close.
Cleopatra attempted suicide, but Cæsar’s messengers having now reached
the upper story, with scaling ladders, arrived in time to prevent, and
drew her dagger away, even threatening her with the destruction of
all her children if she did not desist. Now for a space she changed
her policy, but probably never her mind, which was evidently bent on
self-destruction. She arrayed herself in fine garments and received
Cæsar, delivering over to him, nominally, all her treasures, but
flying into a furious passion with a servant who betrayed that she was
withholding a part; alternate gusts of fury and grief swayed the now
enfeebled and broken body, and the tormented soul. At one instant she
drew herself up in queenly dignity, at another threw herself at Cæsar’s
feet, bathed in tears. He raised and tried to reassure her, pretending
that he intended her no harm, but never relinquishing the fixed purpose
of having her grace his triumph. While she, on her part, allowing
herself to seem comforted, was equally unchanged in her determination.
’Tis said that during this interview Octavius kept his eyes upon the
ground that neither the sight of her beauty nor her grief might move
him.

And now comes the last act of the theatrical and tragic story. A
basket of figs was sent up to the queen, and hidden in that, or in the
apartment, was the asp, the messenger of death. Crowned and arrayed
as for a festival she laid herself upon the bed where Antony had
expired, and received a bite from the irritated snake, which she had
tormented to his fatal task, she breathed her last. The passionate
devotion she had inspired was proven by the self-destruction of her
two maidens, Iras and Charmian, both of whom followed her example.
Many old stories have been, by modern criticism and research, proved
to be mythical tales, but this seems to hold its own. She had written
a pitiful entreaty to Cæsar that she might be buried in the same tomb
with Antony, the last proof that her love for him was indeed a true
affection. No sooner had Octavius received this than he suspected her
design, and again sent his messengers, if possible, to prevent it. But
they were too late, and we close with Plutarch’s words: “Iras, one of
her women, lay dying at her feet and Charmian, just ready to fall,
scarce able to hold up her head, was adjusting her mistress’ diadem.”
The picture is very touching. “And,” continues the narrative, “when
one that came in said, ‘Was this well done of your lady, Charmian?’
‘Perfectly well,’ she answered, ‘and as became the daughter of so many
kings.’ And as she said this she fell dead by the bedside.”

Thus the curtain was rung down on the last act of the tragedy. Though
faded in bloom, and torn with emotions the still beautiful queen, in
all the statuesque majesty of death, lay upon her couch, while as in
life her faithful maidens bore her company. So expired the last and
most noted queen of Egypt and Rome, long virtually master, took full
possession. Balked in his scheme of carrying Cleopatra captive, Cæsar
showed what his fixed determination had been by having a golden statue
of her made, with the asp upon her arm, and carried in his triumphal
procession.

Of the fate of Cleopatra’s children, history makes brief mention.
The young Cæsarion, whose rights his mother had always so carefully
guarded, had been sent away with his tutor to the town of far Berenike,
but the faithless man betrayed him to Octavian, who had both him and
Antony’s son, Antyllus, who had been declared an hereditary prince,
cruelly murdered. The younger children, though they soon pass from
the records and are lost to sight, had perchance a happier fate. The
young princess Cleopatra, Antony’s daughter, who doubtless possessed
at least a portion of her mother’s beauty, was married to Juba, the
so-called “literary king” of Mauritania, and Octavian, having removed
those members of the family that he considered in any way dangerous
to his own autocratic authority, permitted the sister to carry with
her the two younger brothers, Alexander and Ptolemy, and thus the once
mighty kingdom of Egypt lay prostrate under the foot of the temporary
master of the world and became a Roman province; and the history of the
Ptolemy race virtually ends with that of the world renowned queen, as
Tennyson says, “a name forever.”




Sam S. & Lee Shubert

direct the following theatres and theatrical attractions in America:


    Lyric, Casino and Princess Theatres, New York.

    Garrick Theatre, Chicago.

    Lyric Theatre, Philadelphia.

    Shubert Theatre, Brooklyn.

    Belasco Theatre, Washington.

    Belasco Theatre, Pittsburg.

    Empire Theatre, Newark.

    New Theatre, Utica.

    Grand Opera House, Syracuse.

    Baker Theatre, Rochester.

    Shubert Theatre, Providence.

    Worcester Theatre, Worcester.

    Hyperion Theatre, New Haven.

    Lyceum Theatre, Baltimore.

    Lyceum Theatre, Buffalo.

    Colonial Theatre, Cleveland.

    Rand’s Opera House, Troy.

    Garrick Theatre, St. Louis.

    Sam S. Shubert Theatre, Norfolk, Va.

    Grand Opera House, Columbus.

    New Theatre, Cincinnati.

    Mary Anderson Theatre, Louisville.

    New Theatre, Richmond, Va.

    New Theatre, Lexington, Ky.

    New Theatre, Mobile.

    New Theatre, Atlanta.

    Shubert Theatre, Milwaukee.

    Lyric Theatre, New Orleans.

    New Marlowe Theatre, Chattanooga.

    New Theatre, Detroit.

    Grand Opera House, Davenport, Iowa.

    New Theatre, Toronto.

    New Sothern Theatre, Denver.

    Sam S. Shubert Theatre, Kansas City.

    Majestic Theatre, Los Angeles.

    Belasco Theatre, Portland.

    Shubert Theatre, Seattle.

    Majestic Theatre, San Francisco.

    Mme. Bernhardt in repertoire.

    E. H. Sothern & Julia Marlowe in repertoire.

    Mrs. Patrick Campbell in repertoire.

    Margaret Anglin in repertoire.

    Virginia Harned in “The Girl in Waiting.”

    Drina De Wolfe and Charles Cartwright in a new play.

    Cyril Maude and Winifred Emery in repertoire.

    Arnold Daly in repertoire.

    Henry Miller in a new play.

    Louis Mann and Clara Lipman in “Julie Bonbon.”

    Guy Standing in a new play.

    Mary Shaw in “The Love That Blinds.”

    Henry Woodruff in “Brown of Harvard.”

    W. H. Thompson in “Money Talks.”

    “A Midsummer’s Eve,” by Evelyn Greenleaf Sutherland.

    A new play by George Hazleton.

    “The Secret Orchard,” by Channing Pollock.

    De Wolf Hopper in “Happyland.”

    Paula Edwardes in “Princess Beggar.”

    Eddie Foy in “The Earl and the Girl.”

    Jefferson De Angelis in “Fantana.”

    Julia Sanderson in “The Motor Girl.”

    Marguerite Clark, in a new opera.

    Christie Macdonald in a new opera.

    “Mexicana,” with Louis Harrison.

    “The Social Whirl,” with Adele Ritchie, Jos. Coyne and Ross &
    Fenton.

    “The Babes and the Baron.”

    “The Blue Moon.”

    “Veronique.”

    Peter F. Dailey in a new musical comedy.

    “Queen Xixi of Ix.”

The following attractions also play exclusively in their theatres:

DAVID BELASCO’S ATTRACTIONS:

    Mrs. Leslie Carter in a new play.

    Blanche Bates in “The Girl of the Golden West.”

    David Warfield in “The Music Master.”

    Bertha Galland in a new play.

HARRISON GRAY FISKE’S ATTRACTIONS:

    Mrs. Fiske in “The New York Idea.”

    “Leah Kleschna.”

    Mme. Kalich in “Therese Raquin.”

WALTER LAWRENCE’S ATTRACTIONS:

    Henry E. Dixey in “The Man on the Box.”

    Cyril Scott in “The Prince Chap.”

    “Mrs. Temple’s Telegram.”

    Carlotta Nillson in a new play.

ROBERT HUNTER’S ATTRACTIONS:

    “Before and After.”

You cannot go wrong in selecting one of these play-houses for an
evening’s entertainment in whatever city you may happen to be.




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