Civil War and Break-up of the Kingdom—Reunion and Recovery.
The last sovereign of the sixth dynasty was a queen named Nitocris.
After her death occurs a perfect blank in Egyptian history. Not a
line of hieroglyphic writing, not a fragment of a ruin has survived
from this period of darkness and silence. Of the seventh dynasty the
very names are lost; of the eighth, nothing but the names has been
preserved. The names, however, are so similar to those of the sixth
dynasty, that we may conclude that these rulers were of the same royal
line and descendants of Mena.
It may be gathered from the bare fact of the accession of a female
sovereign that the direct male line had failed. Nitocris appears to
have left no children, and it is easy to imagine how rival claims and
dissension would arise; each claimant asserting his right as next of
kin, to wear the double crown.
But at the same time the double crown lost much of its splendour.
Other pretenders started up, ambitious men, claiming no right of
kinship certainly, but anxious to make their own profit during this
period of discord and weakness in the ruling house. Egypt was divided
into forty-two districts or ‘nomes,’ and each of these possessed
its own governor (_hak_, or prince, he was called) and each was to
some extent a government complete within itself. The office of these
prince-governors was often hereditary, and there was always a danger
lest some powerful and popular governor should aim at setting up a
petty kingdom of his own, in the event of the ruling hand becoming
enfeebled. During a female reign the controlling power would be
lessened, whilst the prospect of a disputed succession was awakening
ambitious hopes and schemes. So long as Nitocris lived, the reverence
due to a direct representative of the Pharaohs might prove some
restraint, but at her death the smouldering ambitions and rivalries of
scions of the royal house and of powerful provincial governors could
hardly fail to burst forth, and find vent in fierce flames of discord
and of civil war.
Would we form to ourselves some idea of the state of Egypt during the
ensuing centuries, we must picture a feeble scion of the ancient line
ruling at Memphis over a territory barely extending beyond the capital;
for in the north the foreign races would seize their opportunity for
invading and encroaching upon the rich Delta land, thus blocking the
great highway by the river; and farther south a rival dynasty is
established at Heracleopolis, in Middle Egypt, not to reckon the other
petty kingdoms or principalities into which the country is broken
up—the whole a scene of ceaseless jealousies and mutual conflict.
At length in the extreme south certain king-like figures emerge of a
more commanding appearance, and seen by a clearer light. The Antefs
first, a family of ancient and illustrious, though not royal descent,
who had set up their dominion at a town then insignificant and unknown
to fame—Thebes. The burial-places of the kings of this family (who
are sometimes reckoned in the eleventh dynasty) have been discovered
in Western Thebes. Their tombs are plain, and but little ornamented;
there are some brick pyramids of no great size, and some fragments of
small broken obelisks. In one of the memorial chambers is depicted an
Antef who assumed the title of the ‘Great;’ he appears to have been
a sportsman, and is to be seen surrounded by his dogs, each of which
is distinguished by its name. From the days of these kings a literary
relic also has come down to us. The ‘festal dirge’ of the Egyptians
bears the name of the _Song of the House of King Antef_. Many, many
ages later, Herodotus, travelling in Egypt, told of the custom
which prevailed of carrying round during an entertainment a figure
representing a mummy, whilst the bearer repeated the words: ‘Cast your
eyes upon this figure; after death you yourself will resemble it; eat,
drink, then, and be happy;’ words plainly recalling the ‘solemn festal
dirge’ which dated back to the ‘House of Antef,’ about 2000 years
before his time, and which was to the following effect:—
‘All hail the good Prince, the worthy man who has
passed away! Behold the end! the end of those who
possess houses and of those who have them not. I have
heard the sayings of the wise:—“What is prosperity?
All passes as though it had not been—no man returneth
thence to tell us what they say or do.”
‘Fulfil, then, thy desire, O man, whilst yet thou
livest. Anoint thine head with oil, and clothe thee in
fine linen adorned with gold—Make use of God’s good
gifts.
‘For the day will come for thee also when voices are
heard no more; he who is at rest heareth not the cry of
those who mourn. No mourning may deliver him that is
within the tomb.
‘Feast, then, in peace—for none can carry away his
goods with him, nor can he who goeth hence return
again.’
There are, then, a few scanty records left of the Antef family and
their rule in the south. Still more distinct and commanding are the
figures of another family, the brave and warlike Mentuhoteps; who
eventually succeeded in restoring order over a considerable portion
of the distracted and divided land. This family was of Theban origin,
and the centre of their government was in that city, then so obscure,
though destined to become in after days the crown of ancient cities and
the wonder of the ancient world—‘hundred-gated Thebes.’
With wise forethought the Mentuhoteps devoted their attention to the
development of trade and industry in the south. The passage of the
great water-way of the Nile was impeded, but there was an outlet for
commerce by a route leading eastward from the Nile to the Red Sea.
Koptos, a town not far north of Thebes, stood at the entrance of
the desert rocky valley of Hammamat, through which merchantmen and
travellers made a weary and painful eight days’ journey to the Red
Sea. The Mentuhotep kings themselves took up their residence sometimes
at Koptos, and the gloomy valley of Hammamat gradually became a scene
of busy industry. Mines of gold and silver ore were worked there, and
stone was hewn from its quarries for building purposes at Thebes, which
was continually growing in extent and in importance. For the benefit of
the labourers in the hot valley, and for the refreshment of travellers
and their beasts, a deep well, ten cubits broad, was sunk by royal
order. The whole district was placed under the special guardianship of
the god Khem, who was known as the ‘Protecting Lord of the mountain.’
The rocks near Koptos are to this day covered with inscriptions—the
invocations and prayers of many generations, both of workmen and of
wayfarers. The development of trade and industry brought an increase
both of wealth and power to the Mentuhoteps and their people. During
the reign of the last sovereign of the eleventh dynasty, a more distant
expedition was undertaken.
The land of Punt[16] was well known by name and repute to the
Egyptians; they regarded it as a sacred region (_Ta-neter_, the ‘holy
land’), and it was known to be a hilly country, whose shores were
washed by the Red Sea, and to be celebrated for many rare and precious
products; for choice and costly woods; for gems and frankincense,
and fragrant spices; for trees and plants unknown at home; for birds
of strange plumage, giraffes, monkeys, and leopards. King Sankhkara
despatched an expedition thither under the command of a nobleman
named Hanno. Hanno tells us the story himself: ‘I was sent,’ he
says, ‘to conduct ships to the land of Punt, to fetch for the king
sweet-smelling spices.’ He started with 3000 men, well armed and
carefully provided with water, which was carried in skins on poles.
Through the valley of Hammamat he pressed on rapidly to the sea; there
he embarked, after offering up rich sacrifices. ‘I brought back,’ he
says, ‘all kinds of products, and I brought back precious stones for
the statues of the temples.’
The route between Koptos and the Red Sea continued to be a highway for
commerce down to the days of the Greeks and Romans.
FOOTNOTE:
[16] It is not quite certain whether Punt was on the Arabian or
Abyssinian shore of the Red Sea, probably the latter.