Twelfth Dynasty—‘Instructions’ of Amenemhat I.—Story of Saneha.
There was a certain unity in Egyptian worships, but in various
localities the chief deities bore different names, and were regarded
under varying aspects. The worship of some of these chief deities,
however, became general, if not universal, at a very early period;
_e.g._ that of Osiris, Isis, and Horus, the triad of Abydos; that of Ra
and Turn,[17] chief gods of On, and that of Ptah, the centre of which
was Memphis. The Thebaid—_i.e._ the district surrounding Thebes—had its
own local divinities also. Khem, ‘Lord of the mountain,’ was adored at
Koptos; Amen (worshipped in connection with Mut, the ‘Divine Mother,’
and Khons) was the chief god of Thebes. He was destined to become,
under the name of Amen-Ra, the chief amongst Egyptian gods at a later
day.
The name of the first sovereign of the twelfth dynasty, Amenemhat
(‘Amen the leader’), bespeaks its southern origin. This great monarch
followed up the successes of the Mentuhoteps, and finally re-united
Egypt under one sceptre, although at the cost of many years of severe
conflict. Then he had to drive back the Kushites, who had encroached
on the south, and the Libyans and the Amu, who troubled the northern
borders; and after he had restored the ancient boundaries there
was still need of perpetual vigilance upon the frontiers. On the
north-east, where lay the greatest danger, he erected fortresses and
built a strong wall of defence.
But although Amenemhat I. had been able to restore the ancient
boundaries of Egypt, and all the country was subject, nominally, to
his sway, it is certain that the kinglets and chieftains whom he had
reduced bore him but little affection, and yielded only a sullen
and constrained obedience; in fact there is evidence of a hatred so
vindictive that it did not scruple to resort even to the dagger of
midnight assassination. But King Amenemhat did not rest content with
the supremacy he had won; he strove, and not without success in the
end, to win the goodwill and affection of the people, and he bequeathed
to his successors a legacy of peace and prosperity that lasted for many
generations. In the ‘Instructions’ which he left for his son Usertesen
(whom he had associated with him on the throne), we may see both the
high ideal this great and wise sovereign had formed of his own duties,
and also form some idea of the perils and anxieties amidst which he
strove to perform them.
‘Now thou art king,’ he says to his son; ‘strive to excel those who
have gone before thee. Keep peace between thy people and thyself,
lest they should be afraid of thee. Go amongst them, keep not thyself
aloof; do not let it be only great lords and nobles whom thou takest
to thy heart as brothers; nevertheless, let none come near thee whose
friendship thou hast not proved.
‘Let thine own heart be strong, for know this, O man, that in the day
of adversity thy servants’ help will fail thee. As for me, I have given
to the lowly and I have strengthened the weak. I have breathed courage
into hearts where there was none.
‘Thee have I exalted from being a subject, and I have upheld thee, that
men may fear before thee. I have adorned myself with fine linen, so
that I was like the pure water flowers; I anointed myself with fragrant
oil, as though it had been water.
‘My remembrance lives in men’s hearts because I caused the sorrow of
the afflicted to cease; their cry was no longer heard. The conflicts
are over, though they had been renewed again and again, for the land
had become like a mighty one who is forgetful of the past. Neither the
ignorant nor the learned man was able to endure.[18]
‘Once after supper, when the shades of night had fallen, I went to
seek repose. I lay down and stretched myself upon the carpets of
my house; my soul began to seek after sleep. But lo! armed men had
assembled to attack me; I was helpless as the torpid snake in the
field. Then I aroused myself, and collected all my strength, but it was
to strike at a foe who made no stand. If I encountered an armed rebel I
made the coward turn and fly; not even in the darkness was he brave; no
one fought.
‘Nor was there ever a time of need that found me unprepared. And when
the day of my passing hence came, and I knew it not—I had never given
ear to the courtiers who desired me to abdicate in thy favour. I sat
ever by thy side, and planned all things for thee.
‘I never neglected anything that was for the benefit of my servants. If
locusts came arrayed for plunder, if conspiracy assailed me at home, if
the Nile was low, and the wells were dry; if my enemies took advantage
of thyyouth to conspire to do ill,—I never faltered from the day that I
was born. Never was the like seen since the days of the heroes.
‘My messengers have travelled to the south and to the north. I stood
upon the frontiers to keep watch, I stationed men armed with scimitars
upon the boundaries, and I was armed with a scimitar myself.
‘I grew abundance of corn, and the god of corn gave me the rising of
the Nile over the cultivated land. None was hungry through me, none
thirsted through me; every one took heed to obey my words. All my
orders increased the affection my people had for me.
‘I hunted the lion, and brought home the crocodile. I fought the
Nubians, and took the Libyans captive. I turned my forces against the
Sati; he fawned upon me like a dog.
‘I built myself a house[19] adorned with gold; its ceiling was of
azure, its galleries of stone. It was made for eternity. I possess the
everlasting powers of the gods. There are many secret passages therein;
I alone possess the key. None knows the way but thee, O Usertesen. Thou
enterest, and thou wilt see me with thine eyes amongst the spirits who
do thee honour.
‘All I have done is for thee. Do thou place upon my statue the double
crown and the tokens of divinity; let the seal of friendship unite us.
In the boat of Ra am I offering prayers for thee. It was my power that
raised thee to the throne and upheld thee there.’
The latter years of Amenemhat’s reign flowed tranquilly by. ‘The
land had rest’ from the warfare of centuries; and the sovereigns
applied themselves to restoring the temples of the gods which had been
neglected during the troublous times through which Egypt had passed.
Amenemhat laid the foundation of the Great Temple at Thebes, whose
colossal ruins still excite the wonder of the traveller at Karnak.
During the joint reign of these two sovereigns peace and confidence
were so far restored that it was possible to deal generously with
fugitives and exiles. A kindly answer was accordingly sent to a
humble petition from one of these, Saneha by name, who had fled or
been banished the country many years before. He has left an account
of his experiences, which has fortunately come down to us. The first
lines are wanting that would have given the events which led to
his hurried flight; but it is not difficult to imagine how a young
and powerful noble might have become compromised in insurrection or
conspiracy during the earlier years of Amenemhat’s reign—so gravely
compromised that his recall and friendly reception by the kings was
regarded with suspicion and disapproval by some of the royal family
themselves. The narrative opens thus—‘When I was about to set out, my
heart was troubled, my hands trembled, numbness fell on my limbs. I
disguised myself as a seller of herbs;[20] twice I started and turned
back.... I passed the night in a garden; when it was day I arose, and
by supper-time had arrived at the town.... There I embarked on a barge
without a rudder, and came to Abu; the rest of the journey I made on
foot. I came to the fortress which the king built to keep off the
Sakti, and I was received by an old man, a seller of herbs. But I was
afraid when I beheld the watchmen upon the walls relieving each other
daily. In the dawn I proceeded, and went on my journey from place to
place. Thirst overtook me, and my throat was parched; it was as the
taste of death. But I encouraged myself, and my limbs waxed strong, for
I heard the pleasant voice of cattle. I saw a Sakti. He spoke to me,
saying, “O thou that art from Egypt! whither art thou going?” Then he
gave me water, and poured out milk for me. He brought me to his people,
and they conducted me from place to place till we came to Tennu. The
king said, “Remain with me; here thou wilt hear the language of Egypt.”
I told him what had happened; he understood my condition, and heard the
story of my disgrace. Then he questioned me, saying, “Why hast thou
done these things?... And is it true that the wealth of the house of
Amenemhat reacheth unto heaven?” And I said, “It is certain.”’
Saneha then tells the king of his earlier life; he extols the fame
of king Amenemhat and the martial prowess and great popularity of
his son—to which the king answers, ‘Yea, Egypt is safe—it is well.
Behold, so long as thou art with me, I will do thee good.’ And he
kept his word, giving the Egyptian exile lands and possessions and
marrying him to his eldest daughter. For many years Saneha dwelt in
the strange country, and saw his children grow up around him. Nor was
he unmindful of his own past sufferings, but was ever ready to ‘give
water to the thirsty and set the wanderer in the way.’ He aided the
king also against his enemies, so that, ‘beholding the valour of his
arm,’ he made him chief amongst his children. Presently Saneha receives
a challenge from a certain strong man, hitherto undisputed champion
of the Tennu. The prospect of this single combat excited intense
interest. All Tennu assembled to behold it, and ‘every heart was sorry
for Saneha,’ who was to encounter so redoubtable a foe. But of course
Saneha triumphs, and obtains possession of his enemy’s person and
goods. ‘I got great treasure and wealth, I got much cattle.’
In spite of riches and renown and royal favour, the heart of the
exile grows sad; old age is at hand, and an irrepressible longing
after home and native land seizes upon him. He ventures to approach
the all-powerful King of Egypt with a humble petition for pardon and
recall. ‘Let me be buried,’ he says, ‘in the place where I was born.’
His petition was most graciously received. Usertesen sent a messenger
to the land of the Tennu, laden with many royal gifts and intrusted
with a mandate drawn up in his father’s name. ‘Thou hast passed through
the lands,’ writes the king, ‘going from country to country as thy
heart bade thee. Behold what thou hast done thou hast done. Thou shalt
not be called to account for what thou hast said in the assembly of
young men, nor for the business that thou didst devise. If thou comest
to Egypt, a house shall be prepared for thee. If thou dost homage to
Pharaoh, thou shalt be numbered amongst the king’s councillors.... Lo,
thou hast arrived at middle age; thou hast passed the flower of thy
youth. Think upon the day of burial, upon the passage to Amenti.[21]
Cedar oil and wrappings shall be given thee—service shall be done to
thee in the day of thy burial. At the door of thy tomb the poor shall
make supplication; invocations shall be made before thee.’ This letter
reached Saneha as he was in the midst of his people. Overcome with
emotion he prostrated himself upon the ground. He first caused the
mandate to be read aloud before his chosen men, and then assembled his
household to hear the news, ‘I being myself like one mad.’ Without
delay Saneha sent his answer, worded with the profoundest humility
and gratitude, anxious only that the king’s majesty should not hold
the people of Tennu responsible as though they had in any way been
concerned in his guilt or had aided his flight.
Saneha immediately arranged everything for his departure; he set his
eldest son in his place, and appointed a director over his workmen.
Then he bade adieu to the friendly people among whom he had so long
sojourned, and they assembled in crowds to wish him a good journey and
happy arrival at court. When he reached the country he had left by
stealth, slinking away in disguise like a thief, he was met by princes
of the royal family, who conducted him forthwith into the presence
of the king. ‘I found his majesty in the old place, in the pavilion
of pure gold. I fell upon my face, as one amazed. The “god” addressed
me mildly, but I was as one brought out of the dark; my tongue was
dumb, my limbs failed me, I knew not whether I was alive or dead. His
majesty said to one of the councillors, “Lift him up that I may speak
to him.” His majesty said, “Behold, thou hast gone about the lands
like a runaway. Now old age has come upon thee. Thy renown is not
small; be not silent and without words, for thy name is famous.” Saneha
replies in broken utterances; ‘Behold, oh, my lord, how can I answer
these things? Is not God’s hand upon me; it is terrible. There is that
within me that causeth pain. I am before thee. Thou art mighty. Let thy
majesty do as it pleaseth thee.’ The royal family were now admitted,
and the king said to the queen, ‘Behold Saneha; he went away as an Amu;
he has become a Sakti.’[22] To add to the confusion and alarm of the
repentant exile, there now arises a great cry from some of the princes
of the royal family itself, who exclaim with one voice—‘He is not in
the right, O my lord the king!’ But Amenemhat, as we know, was not
one to be thwarted or turned aside from his purpose;[23] and he only
replies, ‘He is in the right,’ and proceeds forthwith to lavish tokens
of reconciliation and favour upon Saneha. He gives him precedence in
the palace, and appoints him one of the king’s intimate councillors.
He is clothed in fine linen, the attire of a prince, and is anointed
with fragrant oil. A princely habitation is assigned for his use whilst
the labourers are busily employed erecting for him a house ‘befitting
a councillor.’ No sooner is it completed than Saneha’s thoughts turn
to that other house which he must prepare for himself in the western
land—to the day of burial and the ‘passage to Amenti’ of which the
royal letter had spoken. He built himself a tomb of stone. The king
selected the spot, the chief painter designed and the sculptors carved
it; all the decorations were of hewn stone. The field in which it was
situated was made over to him as his own possession, and he adds: ‘My
image was engraved upon the portal in pure gold. His majesty commanded
it to be done. I was in favour with the king until the day of his death
came.’
[Illustration: Caressing a Gazelle.]
FOOTNOTES:
[17] Tum, symbolised in the setting, Ra, in the risen sun, appear
to signify respectively the hidden and the manifested deity—closely
corresponding with Osiris—Horus; for there is a unity underlying the
apparently endless varieties of Egyptian worships.
[18] Words very suggestive as to the distractions and warfare of the
preceding centuries, when the land had indeed seemed to have ‘forgotten
the past.’
[19] I am inclined to think that this ‘house’ and its secret passages
meant his tomb, whither his son would resort to invoke his father’s
memory, who, in the ‘boat of Ra,’ would not forget Usertesen.
[20] Or ‘I hid among the shrubs.’ There is often considerable
uncertainty in rendering the phrases of such ancient narratives as the
‘Story of Saneha.’
[21] The unseen or hidden world.
[22] Foreign tribes on north-east frontier. The point is lost for us.
[23] At least he says of himself in his Instructions, ‘I never faltered
since the day I was born.’