respect was not unlike the existing temple of Edfu, which the
visitor to Egypt will assuredly have seen. Inside the area thus
enclosed there were two buildings, the one behind the other,
standing clear of the walls, thus leaving a wide ambulatory around
them. Upon passing through the gates of the enclosing wall there
was seen before one the façade of the first of the two temples,
while to right and left there stood a small lodge or vestry. The
façade of the temple was most imposing. Two great pylons towered
up before one, rising from behind a pillared portico, and between
them stood the gateway with its swinging doors. Up the face of
each pylon shot five tall masts, piercing the blue sky above, and
from the heads of each there fluttered a crimson pennant. Passing
through the gateway one entered an open court, in the midst of
which stood the high altar, up to which a flight of steps ascended.
On either side of this sun-bathed enclosure stood a series of small
chapels or chambers; while in front of one, in the axial line,
there was another gateway leading on into the second court, from
which one passed again into a third court. Passing through yet
another gateway, a fourth division of the temple was reached, this
being a pillared gallery or colonnade where one might rest for a
while in the cool shadow. Then onwards through another gateway into
the fifth court, crossing which one entered the sixth court, where
stood another altar in the full sunshine. A series of some twenty
little chambers passed around the sides of this court, and looking
into the darkness beyond each of their doorways one might discern
the simple tables and stands with which the rooms were furnished.
A final gateway now led one into the seventh and last court, where
again there was an altar, and again a series of chambers surrounded
the open space.
Behind this main temple, and quite separate from it though standing
within the one enclosure, stood the lesser temple, which was
probably the more sacred of the two. It was fronted by a pillared
portico, and before each column stood a statue of Akhnaton, beside
which was a smaller figure of his wife or one of his daughters.
Passing through the gateway, which was so designed that nothing
beyond could be seen, one entered an open court in which stood the
altar, and around the sides of which were small chambers. Here the
temple ended, save for a few chambers of uncertain use, approached
from the ambulatory.
Both buildings were gay with colours, and at festivals there were
numerous stands heaped high with flowers and other offerings,
while red ribbons added their notes of brilliant colour on all
sides. There was nothing gloomy or sombre in this temple of Aton;
and it contrasts strikingly with the buildings in which Amon was
worshipped. There vast halls were lit by minute windows, and
a dim uncertainty hovered around the worshipper. Such temples
lent themselves to mystery, and amidst their gloomy shadows
many a supplicant’s heart beat in terror. Dark stairways led to
subterranean passages, and these passages to black chambers built
in the thickness of the wall, from whence the hollow voice of the
priest throbbed as from mid-air upon the ears of the crouching
congregation. But in Akhnaton’s temple each court was open to the
full blaze of the sunlight.[69] There was, there could be, no
mystery; nor could there be any terror of darkness to loosen the
knees of the worshipper. Akhnaton, true scientist that he was,
had no sympathy for the occult and no interest in spiritualism.
Boldly he looked to God as a child to its father; and having solved
what he deemed to be the riddle of life, there was no place in
his mind for aught but an open, fearless adoration of the Creator
of that vital energy which he saw in all things. Akhnaton was the
sworn enemy of the table-turners of his day, and the tricks of
priestcraft, the stage effects of religiosity, were anathema to his
pure mind.
4. THE BEAUTY OF THE CITY.
The City of the Horizon of Aton was now a place of surpassing
beauty. Eight or nine years of lavish expenditure in money and
skill had transformed the fields and the wilderness into as fair
a city as the world had ever seen. One of the nobles who lived
there, by name May, describes it in these words: “The mighty City
of the Horizon of Aton, great in loveliness, mistress of pleasant
ceremonies, rich in possessions, the offering of the sun being in
her midst. At the sight of her beauty there is rejoicing. She is
lovely and beautiful: when one sees her it is like a glimpse of
heaven.”
[Illustration: _Carved Wooden Chair, the designs partly covered
with gold-leaf._]
There was almost constant music in her streets, and the scent of
flowers was wafted upon every breeze. Besides the temples and
public buildings the city was adorned with numerous palaces, each
standing in fair gardens. One of these mansions,[70] represented in
the tomb of Meryra, seems to have constituted a happy combination
of comfort and simplicity, as may be seen from its pictures. One
entered a walled court, and so passed to the main entrance of
the house. A portico, the roof of which was supported by four
decorative columns festooned with ribbons, sheltered the elaborate
doorway from the sunshine. Passing through this doorway, from the
top of which a row of cobras gleamed down upon one, a pillared
hall was reached; and beyond this the visitor entered the great
dining-hall. Twelve columns supported the ceiling, which was
probably painted with flights of birds; and under a kind of kiosk
in the middle of the hall stood the dining-table and several
comfortable arm-chairs, cushioned in bright colours. Beyond this
hall there was a court, at the back of which were several chambers,
one being a bedroom, as a great cushioned bedstead clearly shows.
The owner’s womenfolk probably occupied another portion of the
building not shown in the representations.
The palace of Ay, Akhnaton’s father-in-law, was a more pretentious
building. It was entered by a fine doorway which led into a court.
A second door gave entrance to the large, pillared dining-hall,
and through this one passed into a court from which bedrooms and
boudoirs led off. In one of these rooms two women, clad in airy
garments, are seen to be dancing with one another, while a man
plays a harp. In another room a girl likewise dances to the strains
of a harp, while a servant dresses the hair of one of the gentlemen
of the household. Other rooms contain lutes, harps, and lyres, as
well as objects of the toilet. A little court is now reached, where
fragrant flowers grow, and tanks of water, sunk in the decorated
pavement, give a sense of coolness to the air. Beyond this are more
apartments, and finally the kitchens are reached. Throughout the
house stand delicate tables upon which jars of wine or dishes of
fruit are to be seen; and cushioned arm-chairs, with footstools
before them, are ready for the weary. Servants are seen passing to
and fro bearing refreshments, or stopping to dust the floor, or
again idly talking in the passages.
Akhnaton’s palace is not very clearly shown in the tomb reliefs or
paintings, but portions of it were found in the modern excavations
on the site[71]. Like all the residential buildings of the
period, it was an airy and light structure made of brick. The
walls, ceilings, and floors were covered with the most beautiful
paintings; and delicate pillars, inlaid with coloured glass and
stone, or covered with realistically painted vines and creepers,
supported the light roofs of its halls. Portions of the pavement
are still preserved, and the visitor to the site of the city may
still see the paintings there depicted. A young calf, frisking
in the sunlight, gallops through a field of red poppies; wild
geese rise from the marshes and beat their way through the reeds,
disturbing the butterflies as they do so; amidst the lotus-flowers
resting upon the rippling water the sinuous fish are seen to
wander. These are but fragments of the paintings which once
delighted the eyes of the Pharaoh, or brought a sigh to the lips of
his queen.
The art of the painter of this period excels in the depiction of
animal and plant life. The winding, tangled stems and leaves of
vines were carefully studied; the rapid motions of animals were
correctly caught; and it has been said that in these things the
artists of Akhnaton were greater than those in any other Oriental
art[72]. Sculpture in the round, too, reached a pitch of excellence
never before known. The statue of Akhnaton illustrated opposite is
the work of one who may rank with Donatello, if not with Cellini.
[Illustration: _Akhnaton._
(From a statuette in the Louvre.)]
It is possible that Auta, the chief sculptor of Queen Tiy,[73] is
the creator of this statue, and perhaps also of the head, probably,
of Akhnaton’s daughter shown opposite next page. In the tomb of
Huya there is a scene representing this artist seated in his studio
giving the final touches to a statue of Princess Baketaton. He sits
upon a low stool, palette in hand, and, as was the custom, colours
the surface of the statue. Unlike the stiff conventional poses of
earlier work, the attitude of the young girl is easy and graceful.
One hand hangs by her side: in the other she holds a pomegranate,
which she is about to raise to her lips. Auta’s assistant stands
beside the figure, and near by two apprentices work upon objects of
less importance, their chisels on a table by their side.
Works such as these which Auta and his companions were turning out
are permanent memorials of the reign of Akhnaton, which will carry
his name through the years until, as he would say, “the swan turns
black and the crow turns white.” There must surely come a time,
and soon, when the art of Egypt will receive more attention; and
one may then hear Akhnaton’s name coupled with that of the Medici
as the patron, if not the teacher, of great masters. It was he
who released them from convention, and bade their hands repeat
what their eyes saw; and it was he who directed those eyes to the
beauties of nature around them. He, and no other, taught them to
look at the world in the spirit of life, to infuse into the cold
stone something of the “effulgence which comes from Aton”; and,
if these few treasures which have survived the utter wreck of the
City of the Horizon have put one’s heart to a happy step, it was
Akhnaton who first set the measure.
5. AKHNATON’S AFFECTION FOR HIS FAMILY.
In about the thirteenth year of the reign a fifth daughter was
born, who was named Neferneferura. This seems to have been the
first daughter born after the changes in the religion recorded
at the beginning of this chapter[74] had taken place; and it is
significant that the name of Aton, of which all the previous
daughters’ names had been compounded, now gives place to Ra.
A sixth daughter seems to have made her appearance somewhat over
a year later, some time during the fourteenth year of the reign.
Again Ra is used in the name instead of Aton, she being called
Setepenra. It is impossible to say what was the meaning of this
slight change in the theological aspect of the religion at this
period, but it seems evident that certain developments in which Ra
figured were now introduced.
[Illustration: _Head of Akhnaton’s Daughter._]
No son was yet forthcoming, and both the king and the queen
must now have suffered six successive disappointments. It may
be mentioned here that the next child born to the unfortunate
couple in the following year proved to be a seventh girl and a
seventh disappointment; and in the remaining two years of the
reign no other child was born, or at any rate was weaned, so that
Akhnaton died sonless. It is strange to picture this lofty-minded
preacher in his home, with his six little girls around him, as
he is shown upon the monuments. No other Pharaoh thus portrayed
himself surrounded by his family; but Akhnaton seems to have
never been happy unless all his children were with him and his
wife by his side. The charm of family life, and the sanctity of
the relationship of husband and wife, parents and children, seems
to have been an important point of doctrine to him. He urged his
nobles, also, to give their attention to their families; and in the
tomb of Panehesy, for example, one may see representations of that
personage sitting with his wife and his three daughters around him.
Akhnaton’s affection for his daughters is now shown to us in
another manner. When Amonhotep III. had asked the King of Mitanni
for one of his daughters to be given in marriage to Akhnaton, the
little Nefertiti was at once dispatched, although she was not yet
old enough to cohabit with her husband. He had no scruples about
sending the child of eight years old to a foreign country, and
seems to have packed her off without a thought. Now, however, we
obtain a glimpse of Akhnaton’s actions under similar circumstances,
and the difference is marked. The King of Babylon, Burraburiash,
wrote to Akhnaton in about the fourteenth or fifteenth year of
the reign, asking for one of the Pharaoh’s daughters as a wife
for his son. Wishing to be on friendly terms with Babylonia,
Akhnaton consented to the union, and selected probably his fourth
daughter, Nefernefernaton, as the future Queen of Babylon. His
eldest daughter subsequently married a noble named Smenkhkara, who
succeeded to the throne after the death of Akhnaton; and his third
daughter was later married to another noble named Tutankhaton, who
usurped the throne, as we shall see in the sequel. The fact that
neither of these daughters was now chosen to marry the Babylonian
prince indicates that they were already betrothed to their future
husbands, and hence this event could not have taken place much
earlier than at the date mentioned above. The second daughter,
Meketaton, was not selected for the reason that she seems to have
been in a precarious state of health. The little princess who was
chosen was born in the tenth year of the reign, and was now not
more than five years of age. Akhnaton, unlike the King of Mitanni,
did not at once send the child to her future home, but arranged
the marriage by proxy, and thus kept his daughter with him for yet
a few years. This is made evident from the fact that in a letter
from Burraburiash to Akhnaton, the Babylonian king states that he
is sending a necklace of over a thousand stones to the “Pharaoh’s
daughter, the wife of his son,” who is thus evidently still
resident in Egypt.
Besides Akhnaton’s six, and presently seven, daughters there were
two other princesses probably in residence at the palace. One of
these, his young sister Baketaton, whom we have seen visiting the
City of the Horizon with her mother, is not again heard of, and
perhaps did not long survive the dowager-queen’s death. The other
was Nezemmut, the sister of Queen Nefertiti, who seems to have
lived in Egypt continuously since the time of the founding of the
new city, when we last saw her.[75] Her portraits are shown in
the tombs of May, Panehesy, and Ay; and she is generally seen to
be accompanied by two female dwarfs, named Para and Reneheh, who
appear to have waddled after her wherever she went. She was still,
no doubt, very young, and these two grotesque attendants were
entrusted with her safety as well as her amusement.
6. AKHNATON’S FRIENDS.
The simple and homely manner in which Akhnaton is represented by
his artists, surrounded by his children, is an indication that
although he demanded much homage from his subjects in his capacity
as their Pharaoh, he but asked for their sympathy and affection in
all other connections. As Pharaoh his person was inapproachable and
his attitude aloof, but as a man he never failed to set an example
of what he considered a man should do; and even upon his throne,
to which one might but advance with bowed head and bended knee,
he displayed his mortal nature to all beholders by joking with
his children or paying fond attention to his wife. So, also, many
of his disciples and courtiers, who so ceremoniously approached
the steps of his throne, were in reality his good friends and
intimates. Akhnaton did not care a snap of the fingers for
aristocratic traditions, and although he demanded the conventional
respect of his subjects, and upheld the less tiresome rules of
court etiquette, many of his closest friends were of peasant
origin, and the hands which now held the jewelled ostrich-plume
standards could as easily grasp the pick or the plough.
May, a high official of the city, speaks of himself in the
following words: “I was a man of low origin both on my father’s
and on my mother’s side, but the King established me.... He caused
me to grow ... by his bounty when I was a man of no property; ...
he gave me food and provisions every day, I who had been one that
begged bread.” Huya, Queen Tiy’s steward, speaks of the king as
selecting his officials from the ranks of the yeomen. Panehesy
tells us that Akhnaton is one “who maketh princes and formeth the
humble,” and he adds: “When I knew not the companionship of princes
I was made an intimate of the King.” But if the Pharaoh raised men
from the ranks, he was also capable of degrading those who offended
against the standards which he had set up. Thus May seems to have
been disgraced and turned out of the city.
The tomb of the police official, Mahu, who was a favourite of the
king, though probably not of exalted origin, has provided us with
some scenes relating to his official work which are of considerable
interest. In one series of these we are shown the capture of some
foreigners, or perhaps Beduin, who may have belonged to some gang
of thieves or anarchists. Mahu has been awakened in the early
hours of a winter morning by the news of the disturbance, and as
he listens to the report a servant blows a small fire into flame,
since the morning air is chilly. He then sends for his chariot and
drives to the scene of the crime, whatever it may be; and soon he
has effected the arrest of some of the culprits. These men are then
conveyed to the Vizir, who, with his staff, receives Mahu with
exclamations of approval. “Examine these men, O Princes,” says the
police officer, “whom the foreigners have instigated.” From these
words it might seem that the prisoners were foreign spies, or even
assassins plotting against the life of the Pharaoh.
Whether from fear of a revolt in Egypt or from mere custom, the
City of the Horizon was closely defended at this time, and there
is a scene in this same tomb in which Akhnaton is shown inspecting
the fortifications. He drives in his chariot with his wife and
his eldest daughter Merytaton; and although the spirited horses
would appear to be difficult to manage, the more so because the
mischievous Merytaton is poking them with a stick, Akhnaton is a
sufficiently good driver to be able to carry on a conversation with
the queen, and to address a few words to Mahu, who runs by the
side of the chariot. In striking contrast to the custom of other
Pharaohs, Akhnaton is accompanied by an unarmed bodyguard of police
as he drives round the defences; and in this we may perhaps see an
indication of his popularity. The fortifications, it may be noted,
consist of blockhouses built at regular intervals, and defended by
wire or rope entanglements.
In several of the tombs there are representations of their
owners receiving rewards from the king for their diligence in
their official works, or for their intelligent acceptance of his
teaching. A high official named Pentu has left us a scene in
which Akhnaton is shown seated in the hall of his palace, while
Pentu stands before him to receive numerous golden collars at the
royal hands in recognition of his services. A part of the palace
is shown, but the scene is much damaged: a small pond or tank
surrounded by flowers is shown in one corner of the enclosure, but
the plan of the various rooms is confused, and is quite subsidiary
to the representation of the hall where the Pharaoh receives the
happy Pentu. Akhnaton seems to have been a good friend, as he was
a stern enemy; and those who assisted him in the difficult tasks
which he had set himself were lavishly rewarded for their pains.
7. AKHNATON’S TROUBLES.
Akhnaton’s health was so very uncertain that he hastened to
construct for himself a tomb in the cliffs behind the City of the
Horizon. He selected as the site of his last resting-place a gaunt
and rugged valley which here cuts into the hills, leading back,
around tumbled rocks and up dry watercourses, to the Arabian desert
beyond. It is
“A savage place!--as holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover.”
Here Akhnaton elected to be buried, where hyænas prowled and
jackals wandered, and where the desolate cry of the night-owls
echoed over the rocks. In winter, the cold wind sweeps up this
valley and howls around the rocks; in summer the sun makes of it
a veritable furnace unendurable to man. There is nothing here to
remind one of the God who watches over him, and the tender Aton of
the Pharaoh’s conception would seem to have abandoned this place
to the spirits of evil. There are no flowers where Akhnaton cut
his sepulchre, and no birds sing; for the king believed that his
soul, caught up into the noon of Paradise, would need no more the
delights of earth.
The tomb consisted of a passage descending into the hill, and
leading to a rock-cut hall, the roof of which was supported by
four columns. Here stood the sarcophagus of pink granite in which
the Pharaoh’s mummy would lie. The walls of this hall were covered
with scenes carved in plaster,[76] representing various phases of
the Aton worship. From the passage there led another small chamber
beyond which a further passage was cut, perhaps to lead to a second
hall in which the queen should be buried; but the work was never
finished.
The construction of the tomb was interrupted by the death of
Akhnaton’s second daughter, Meketaton, who had barely lived to see
her ninth birthday. It has already been seen that she seems to have
been ailing for some time, and her death was perhaps no surprise
to her parents. Their grief, however, was none the less acute for
this; and when the body of the little girl had been laid to rest in
one of the chambers of her father’s tomb, the walls were covered
at Akhnaton’s order with scenes representing the grief of the
bereaved family. Here Queen Nefertiti is seen holding in her arms
her lately born seventh daughter, whose name, ending in ... t, is
now lost; while the five other little girls weep with their parents
beside the bier of their dead sister. It is a pathetic picture, and
one which stirs our sympathy for a Pharaoh who, unlike all other
kings of Egypt, could weep for the loss of a daughter.
This was not Akhnaton’s only grief. His doctrines were not being
accepted in Egypt as readily as he had hoped, and he was probably
able to detect a considerable amount of insincerity in the attitude
of those around him. There was hardly a man whom he could trust to
continue in the faith should he himself die; and even as he put the
last touches to his temples and his palaces he was aware that he
had built his house upon the sand. The empire which he had dreamed
of, bound together by the ties of a common worship of Aton, was
fast fading out of sight, and the news which reached him from Syria
was disquieting in the extreme.
At this time the King of Babylon, whose son had married Akhnaton’s
daughter, seems to have been on bad terms with his neighbour,
the King of Mitanni, the father of the Pharaoh’s much-loved Queen
Nefertiti; and Akhnaton came nigh to being drawn into the quarrel.
The Babylonian king had been ill for some time, and in the course
of the international correspondence Nefertiti had never once sent
her condolences to him, apparently because he was a poor friend to
her father. This was much resented, and the King of Babylon at last
sent an insulting letter to Akhnaton, in which he states that he is
sending him the usual present of decorative objects which etiquette
required of him, but that he wishes it to be understood that only a
fraction of the gift is intended for the “mistress of his house,”
_i.e._, Nefertiti, since she had not troubled to ask after his
health.