The architrave which was employed with all these varieties of capital

was sometimes of a kind which deserves to be noticed (Fig. 102).

Whenever the dimensions of the column were sufficiently great the

stone beams which met upon the die or abacus had oblique joints. The

motive of the architect in making use of such a junction is obvious

enough; it was calculated to afford greater solidity, and it was the

most convenient way in which lateral architraves could be united with

those disposed longitudinally. Any other arrangement would have

involved a sacrifice of space and would have left a certain part of

the abacus doing nothing.

We have now brought our analysis of the principal types of pier and

column used by the Egyptians to an end. They suggest, however, certain

general reflections to which we must next endeavour to give

expression. In spite of the great apparent diversity of their forms,

we are enabled to perceive that the Egyptian orders obeyed an

unchanging law of development, and that certain characteristic

features persistently reappear through all their transformations. We

must attempt to define these laws and characteristics, as, otherwise,

we shall fail to make the originality of Egyptian art appreciated, we

shall be unable to classify its successes, or to mark with accuracy

the limits which it failed to pass.

[Illustration: FIG. 95.--Capital from the work of Thothmes at Karnak.]

[Illustration: FIG. 96.--Arrangement of architraves upon a capital.

From the plans and elevations of Lepsius.]

Between the square pier with neither base nor capital of the early

Empire and the graceful columns of the Ramesseum there is a difference

which marks ages of progress. The general form of the support became

gradually more complex and more refined. As occurred elsewhere, it was

divided into parts, each of which had its proper duty and its proper

name. The base was distinguished from the shaft, and the shaft from

the capital. Each of these parts was shaped by the sculptor and

clothed in colour by the painter. For long centuries the architect

never relaxed his efforts to perfect his art. The simple and sturdy

prismatic column gave way to the elaborate forms which exist in the

great temples of the Ramessids; the latter in turn lost their power to

satisfy and new motives were sought for in the combination of all

those which had gone before. In the series of Egyptian types the

capital of Nectanebo would therefore occupy a place corresponding to

that of the composite capital in the series of Græco-Roman orders.

The general movement of art in Egypt may therefore be compared to that

of art in Greece and Italy; and yet there is a difference. From the

rise of Greek architecture until its decay, the proportions of its

vertical members underwent a continual, _but consistent_, modification

of their proportions. Century after century the figure in which their

height was expressed proportionately with their bulk, became greater.

In the height of the Doric columns of the old temple at Corinth there

are fewer diameters than in those of the Parthenon, and in those of

the Parthenon there are fewer than in the doric shafts of Rome. This

tendency explains the neglect which befel this order about the fourth

century before our era. In the sumptuous buildings of Asia Minor and

Syria and of the "Lower Period" in Egypt, it was replaced by the

graceful and slender outlines of the Ionic order. A similar

explanation may be given of the favour in which the Corinthian order

was held throughout the Roman world.

Such a development is not to be found in Egypt. The forms of Egyptian

architecture did not become less substantial with the passage of the

centuries. It is possible that familiarity with light structures of

wood and metal had early created a taste for slender supports. The

polygonal and faggot-shaped columns of Beni-Hassan are no thicker than

those of far later times. A comparison of the columns at Thebes points

to the same conclusion. The shortest and most thick-set in its

proportions of them all (Fig. 78) is at Medinet-Abou, and is about two

centuries later than those of the same order which decorate the second

court at Luxor (Fig. 77). Its heaviness is even more apparent when we

compare it with the great columns of a different order, at Karnak

(Fig. 80), and the Ramesseum (Fig. 81), which precede it by at least a

century.

The progress of Egyptian art was, then, less continuous and less

regular than that of classic art. It had moments of rest, of

exhaustion, even of retrogression. It was not governed by internal

logical principles so severe as those of the Greeks.

The manner in which the capital is allied to the shaft below, and the

architrave above shows changes of the same kind.

The first duty of the capital is to oppose a firm and individual

contour to the monotony of the shaft. The constructor has to determine

a point in the length of the latter where it shall cease to be, where

its gradual diminution in section, a diminution which could not be

prolonged to the architrave without compromising the safety of the

building, shall be arrested. The natural office of the capital would

seem to be to call attention to this point. The architect, therefore,

gives it a diameter greater than that of the shaft at the point where

they meet. This salience restores to the column the material which it

has lost; it completes it, and determines its proportion, so that it

is no longer capable of either increase or diminution.

Again, when the salience is but the preparation for a greater

development above, it seems to add to the solidity of the edifice by

receiving the architrave on a far larger surface than the shaft could

offer. The support seems to enlarge itself, the better to embrace the

entablature.

The two requirements which the capital has to fulfil may, then, be

thus summarized: in the first place, it has to mark the point where

the upward movement of the lines comes to an end; and, secondly, it

has to make, or to seem to make, the column better fitted to play its

part as a support. Its functions are dual in principle; it has to

satisfy the æsthetic desires of the eye, and the constructive

requirements of the material. The latter office may be more apparent

than real, but, in architecture, what seems to be necessary is so.

The Greek capital, in all its forms, thoroughly fulfils these double

conditions, while that of Egypt satisfies them in a very imperfect

manner. Let us take the ancient polygonal column as an example. The

feeble tablet which crowns its shaft neither opposes itself frankly to

the upright lines below it, nor, in the absence of an echinus, is it

happily allied with the shaft. It gives, however, a greater appearance

of constructive repose to the architrave than the latter would have

without it.

In the column which terminates in a lotus-bud the capital is of more

importance, but the contrast between it and the shaft is often very

slightly marked. At Luxor and Karnak the smooth capital seems to be

nothing more than an accident, a gentle swelling in the upper part of

the cone; besides which it really plays no part in the construction,

as the surface of the abacus above it is no greater than a horizontal

section through the highest and most slender part of the shaft.

[Illustration: FIG. 97.--The Nymphæa Nelumbo; from the _Description de

l'Égypte_; _Hist. Naturelle_, pl. 61.]

Of all the Egyptian capitals, that which seems the happiest in

conception is the campaniform. This capital, far from being folded

back upon itself, throws out a fine and bold curve beyond the shaft.

But we are surprised and even distressed to find that the surface thus

obtained is not employed for the support of the architrave, which is

carried by a comparatively small cubic abacus, which rests upon the

centre of the capital. At Karnak and Medinet-Abou this abacus is not

so absurdly high as it afterwards became in the Ptolemaic period,[107]

but yet its effect is singular rather than pleasant. We feel inclined

to wonder why this fine calyx of stone should have been constructed if

its borders were to remain idle. It is like a phrase commenced but

never finished. Without this fault the composition, of which it forms

a part, would be worthy, both in proportion and in decoration, of

being placed side by side with the most perfect of the Greek columns.

[107] A good idea of this can be gained from the building known

as _Pharaoh's bed_, at Philæ. It is shown on the right of our

sketch at p. 431, Vol. I.

The last or, it may be, the first question, which is asked in

connection with the form of column employed by any particular race,

has to do with its origin. We have preferred to make it the last

question, because we thought that the analysis of form which we have

attempted to set forth would help us to an answer. There are many

difficulties in the matter, but after the facts to which we have

called attention, it will not be denied that the forms of wooden

construction, which were the first to be developed in Egypt, had a

great effect upon work in stone.

Ever since men began to interest themselves in Egyptian art, this has

found an important place in their speculations. In the two forms which

alternate with one another at Thebes, many have seen faithful

transcriptions of two plants which filled a large space in Egyptian

civilization by their decorative qualities and the practical services

which they rendered; we mean, of course, the lotus and the papyrus.

There were in Egypt many species belonging to the family of the

_Nymphæaceæ_, a family which is represented in our northern climates

by the yellow and white nenuphars or water-lilies. Besides these Egypt

possessed, and still possesses, the white lotus (_Nymphæa lotus_ of

Linnæus), and the blue lotus (_Nymphæa cærulea_ of Savigny); but the

true Egyptian lotus, the red lotus (the _Nymphæa nelumbo_ of Linnæus,

the _Nelumbium speciosum_ of Wild) exists no longer in a wild state,

either in Egypt or any other known part of Africa (Fig. 97). The

accurate descriptions given by the ancient writers have enabled

botanists, however, to recognize it among the flora of India. It is at

least one third larger than our common water-lily, from which it

differs also in the behaviour of its leaves and of the stems which

bear the flowers. These do not float on the surface of the water but

rise above it to a height of from twelve to fifteen inches.[108] The

flower, which stands higher than the leaves, is borne upon a stalk

which instead of being soft and pliant like that of the water-lily has

the firmness and consistency of wood. It has an agreeable smell like

that of anise. In the bas-reliefs the ancient Egyptians are often seen

holding it to their nostrils. The fruit, which is shaped like the rose

of a watering-pot, contains seeds as large as the stone of an olive.

[108] These upstanding flowers and stalks form the

distinguishing characteristic of the Nelumbo species.

These seeds, which were eaten either green or dried,[109] were called

_Egyptian beans_ by the Greek and Latin writers because they were

consumed in such vast quantities in the Nile valley.[110] The seeds of

the other kinds of nymphæaceæ, which were smaller (Herodotus compares

them with those of a poppy), gave, when pounded in a mortar, a flour

of which a kind of bread was made. Even the root was not wasted;

according to the old historians, it had a sweet and agreeable

taste.[111]

[109] HERODOTUS, ii. 92.

[110] For the different species of the lotus and their

characteristics see _Description de l'Égypte_, _Hist.

Naturelle_, vol. ii. pp. 303-313 and _Atlas_, plates 60 and

61.--In the _Recueil de Travaux_, etc., vol. i. p. 190, there is

a note by M. VICTOR LORET upon the Egyptian names for the lotus.

[111] STRABO, xvii. 1, 15.--DIODORUS, i. 34.

The papyrus belongs to the family of _Cyperaceæ_, which is still

represented in Egypt by several species, but the famous plant which

received the early writings of mankind, the _Papyrus antiquorum_ of

the botanist, has also practically disappeared from Egypt, where it is

only to be found in a few private gardens. The ancients made it an

object of special care. It was cultivated in the Sebennitic nome, its

roots being grown in shallow water. Strabo gave a sufficiently

accurate idea of its appearance when he described it as a "peeled wand

surmounted by a plume of feathers."[112] This green plume or bouquet

is by no means without elegance (Fig. 98). According to Theophrastus

the plant attained to a height of ten cubits, or about sixteen

feet.[113] This may, however, be an exaggeration. The finest plants

that I could find in the gardens of Alexandria did not reach ten feet.

Their stems were as thick as a stout broom-handle and sharply

triangular in section.

[112] STRABO, xvii. 1, 15.

[113] Strabo only speaks of ten feet, which would agree better

with modern experience.

The reed-brakes which occur so frequently in the paintings consist of

different varieties of the papyrus (Fig. 8, Vol. I.). The uses to

which the plant could be put were very numerous. The root was used for

fuel and other purposes. The lower part of the stalk furnished a sweet

and aromatic food substance, which was chewed either raw or boiled,

for the sake of the juice.[114] Veils, mats, sandals, &c., were made

from the bark; candle and torch wicks from the bark; baskets and even

boats from the stalk.[115] As for the processes by which the precious

fabric which the Greeks called βίβλος was obtained they will

be found fully described in the paper of Dureau de-la-Malle _Sur le

Papyrus et la Fabrication du Papier_.[116] Our word _paper_ is derived

from _papyrus_, and forms a slight but everlasting monument to the

great services rendered to civilization by the inventive genius of the

Egyptians. The importation of the papyrus, which followed the

establishment of direct relations between Greece and Egypt in the time

of the Sait princes,[117] exercised the greatest influence upon the

development of Greek thought. It created prose composition, and with

it history, philosophy, and science.

[114] DIODORUS, i. 80.

[115] PIERRET, _Dictionnaire d'Archéologie Égyptienne_, see

_Papyrus_. Upon the different varieties of papyrus, see also

WILKINSON, vol. ii. p. 121; pp. 179-189; and EBERS, _Ægypten_,

pp. 126, 127.

[116] _Mémoires de l'Académie des Inscriptions_, vol. xix. p.

140, with one plate.

[117] EGGER, _Des Origines de la Prose dans la Littérature

Grecque_. (_Mémoires de Littérature Ancienne_, xi.)

The two plants which we have mentioned were so specially reverenced by

the Egyptians that they constituted them severally into the signs by

which the two great divisions of the country were indicated in their

writings. The _papyrus_ was the emblem of the Delta, in whose lazy

waters it luxuriated, and the lotus that of the Thebaïd.[118]

[118] MASPERO, _Histoire Ancienne_, p. 8.

Besides this testimony to their importance, the careful descriptions

left by the ancient travellers in Egypt, Herodotus and Strabo, also

show the estimation in which these two plants were held by the

Egyptians; the palm alone could contest their well-earned supremacy.

It is easy, then, to understand how the artist and ornamentist were

led to make use of their graceful forms. We have already pointed out

many instances of such employment, and we are far from underrating its

importance, but we have yet to explain the method followed, and the

kind and degree of imitation which the Egyptian artist allowed

himself.

The lotus especially has been found everywhere by writers upon

Egypt.[119] The pointed leaves painted upon the lower parts of

columns have been recognized as imitations of "those scaly leaves

which surround the point where the stem of the lotus, the papyrus,

and many other aquatic plants, merges in the root." According to this

theory the ligneous stem which rises from a depth beneath the water

of, perhaps, six feet, and carries the large open flower at its top,

was the prototype of the Egyptian column. The bulbous form with which

so many shafts are endowed at the base, would be another feature taken

directly from nature. The leaves, properly speaking, which spread

around the flower, are found about and below the capital, while the

capital itself is nothing else, we are told, than the flower,

sometimes fully opened, sometimes while yet in the bud. When the shaft

is smooth it represents a single stem, when it is grooved, it means a

faggot of stems tied together by a cord.

[119] _Description de l'Égypte_; _Hist. Naturelle_, vol. ii. p.

311. _Antiquités_, vol. i. _Description générale de Thèbes_, p.

133: "Who can doubt that they wished to imitate the lotus in its

entirety? The shaft of the column is the stem, the capital the

flower, and, still more obviously, the lower part of the column

seems to us an exact representation of that of the lotus and of

plants in general."

[Illustration: FIG. 98.--Papyrus plant, drawn in the gardens of the

Luxembourg, Paris, by M. Saint-Elme Gautier.]

Others make similar claims for the papyrus. They refuse to admit that

the whole of the Egyptian orders were founded upon the lotus. Mariette

allowed that the capitals which we have called lotiform were copied

from that plant, but he contended that the bell-shaped capital was

freely copied from the plume of its rival. He proposed that this

latter capital should be called _papyriform_, and to my objections,

which were founded upon the composition of a head of papyrus, he

answered that the Egyptians neglected what may be called internal

details, and were contented with rendering the outward contours. In

support of his idea, he called attention to the fact that some of the

faggot-shaped columns present triangular sections, like that of the

papyrus stem.

In spite of this latter fact, Mariette did not convert me to his

opinion. The columns in which this triangular section is found are not

crowned by an open flower. The profiles of their capitals resemble

that of a truncated bud, a form which cannot possibly be obtained from

the papyrus, and they seem, therefore, to combine characteristics

taken from two different plants. His explanation of the campaniform

capital seems still less admissable. It is impossible to allow that in

the tuft of slender filaments gracefully yielding to the wind, which

is figured on page 127, we have the prototype of those inverted bells

of stone, whose uninterrupted contours express so much strength and

amplitude. No less difficult is it to discover the first idea of those

sturdy shafts which seem so well proportioned to the mighty

architraves which they have to support, in the slender stalk of the

famous water plant. The hypostyle halls may be compared to palm

groves, to forests of pine, of oak, or of beech. In such a comparison

there would be nothing surprising, but the papyrus, with its

attenuated proportions and yielding frame, would seem to be, of all

vegetables, the least likely to have inspired the architects of Karnak

and Luxor.

The lotus seems to us to have no more right than the papyrus to be

considered the unique origin of the forms which we are considering.

All those resemblances, of which so much has been made, sink to very

little when they are closely examined. It requires more than good will

to recognize the formless _folioles_ which cluster round the base of

the stalk in those large and well-shaped triangular leaves with

parallel ribs, which decorate the bases of Egyptian columns. Moreover,

these leaves reappear in other places, such as capitals, in which, if

this explanation of their origin is to be accepted, they could have no

place. They frequently occur, also, at the foot of a wall. As for the

true circular leaf of the lotus, it is not to be found, except,

perhaps in a few Ptolemaic capitals. Its stem, concealed almost

entirely by the muddy water, is very slender, and is hardly more

suggestive than that of the papyrus of a massive stone column. The

bulbous form of the lower part of the shaft would be a constant form

if it were an imitation of nature, whereas it is, in fact,

exceptional. With the capitals, however, it is different. Those which

are to be found at Thebes are referred, by common consent, to the

lotus-bud. And yet, perhaps, they resemble any other bud as much as

that of the lotus. It is, however, when they are fully open, that one

flower is easily distinguishable from another by the shape and number

of their petals, as well as by the variety of their colours. Like

babies in their cradles, unopened buds are strangely alike. But seeing

the place occupied by the lotus in the minds of the Egyptians, in

their wooden architecture and painted decorations, it is natural

enough to believe that it gave them their first hint for the capital

in question; we have, therefore, not hesitated to use the epithet

lotiform which has been consecrated to it by custom.

As for the campaniform capital we find it difficult to allow that it

represents the open flower of the lotus. From a certain distance it no

doubt resembles the general lines of some flowers, but those belong to

the family of the _Campanulaceæ_ rather than to that of the

nymphæaceæ. The profile of this inverted bell, however, does not seem

to have been suggested by the wish to imitate any flower whatever,

least of all that of the lotus. The capitals at Soleb and Sesebi

(Figs. 82 and 93) embody careful imitations of, at least, the general

shapes and curves of date-tree branches. Here there is nothing of the

kind. There is not the slightest indication of the elongated and

crowded petals of the lotus. Both at Karnak and at the Ramesseum, the

latter may be easily recognised among the stalks of papyrus and other

freely imitated flowers, but _upon_ the columns and not in their

shapes. Both base and capital were ornamented with leaves and flowers.

Their contours have been gently indicated with a pointed instrument

and then filled in with brilliant colours, which help to relieve them

from their ground. The whole decoration is superficial; it is not

embodied in the column and has no effect upon its general form and

character.

The following explanation of the resemblances which do undoubtedly

exist between certain details of Egyptian architecture and the forms

of some of the national plants, is the most probable. The stalks of

the lotus and the papyrus are too weak and slender ever to have been

used as supports by themselves, but it is quite possible that on

_fête_ days, they were used to decorate pillars and posts of more

substantial construction, being bound round them like the outer sticks

of a faggot. This fashion has its modern illustration in the Italian

habit of draping the columns of a church with cloth or velvet on

special occasions, and in the French custom of draping houses with

garlands and white cloth for the procession of the _Fête Dieu_.

The river and the canals of Egypt offered all the elements for such a

decoration. The lotus and papyrus stems would be attached to the

column which they decorated, at the top and bottom. The leaves at the

roots would lie about its base, those round the flower and the flower

itself would droop gracefully beneath the architrave, would embrace

and enlarge the capital when it existed, or supply its place when

there was none. The eyes of a people with so keen a perception of

beauty as the Egyptians could not be insensible to the charm of a

column thus crowned with the verdure of green leaves, with the

splendour of the open flower and with the graceful forms of the still

undeveloped bud. It is probable enough that the architect, when he

began to feel the necessity for embellishing the bare surface of his

column, took this temporary and often-renewed decoration for his

model.

The first attempt to imitate these natural forms would be made in wood

and metal, substances which would lend themselves to the unpractised

moulder more readily than stone, but in time the difficulties of the

latter material would be overcome. The deep vertical grooves cut in

the shaft would afford a rough imitation of the round stems of the

lotus and the triangular ones of the papyrus. The circular belts at

the top would suggest the cords by which they were tied to the shaft.

The leaves and flowers painted upon the lowest part of the shaft and

upon the capital, may be compared to permanent chromatic shadows of

the bouquets of colour and verdure which had once hidden those

members. Finally, the artist found in the swelling sides of the bud

and the hollow curves of the corolla those flowing lines which he

desired for the proper completion of his column.

This hypothesis seems to leave no point unexplained, and it receives

additional probability from a detail which can hardly be

satisfactorily accounted for by the advocates of the rival theory. We

mean the cube of stone which is interposed as a kind of abacus between

the capital and the architrave. If we refer the general lines to those

of a plain column bound about with flowering stalks, there is no

difficulty. The abacus then represents the rigid column behind the

decoration, raising its summit above the drooping heads of lotus and

papyrus, and visibly doing its duty as a support. Its effect may not

be very happy, but its _raison d'être_ is complete. On the other hand

its existence is quite inexplicable, if we are to look upon the column

as a reproduction in stone, a kind of petrifaction of a single stem.

To what, in that case, does this heavy stone die correspond? To those

who believe the capital to be the representation of a single flower

with its circlet of graceful petals, its presence must seem nothing

less than an outrage.

In their light structures only do we find the Egyptians frankly

imitating flowers and half-opened buds (Figs. 57, 63, and 64), but

even there the imitation is far from literal. The petals in a single

"bloom" are often of different colours, some blue, some yellow, others

again red or pink, a mixture which is not to be found in nature. The

Egyptian decorator thought only of decoration. He used his tints

capriciously from the botanist's point of view, but he often

reproduced the forms of Egyptian plants with considerable fidelity,

especially those splendid lotus-flowers which occupied so large a

part in his affections long before the poets of India sang their

praise. In fashioning slender shafts which had little weight to

support, the artist could give the reins to his fancy, he could mould

his metal plates or his precious timber into the semblance of any

natural form that pleased his eye, and the types thus created would,

of course, be present in the minds of the first architects who

attempted to decorate rock-cut tombs or temples and constructed

buildings. We affirm again, however, that neither the stone column of

the Egyptians, nor that of the Greeks, in its most complete and

dignified form, resulted from the servile imitation, nor even from the

intelligent interpretation of living nature.

The column was an abstract creation of plastic genius. Its forms were

determined by the natural properties of the material employed, by

structural necessities, and by a desire for beauty of proportion.

Different peoples have had different ideas as to what constitutes this

beauty; they have had their secret instincts and individual

preferences. The artist, too, who wishes to ornament a column, is sure

to borrow motives from any particular form of art or industry in which

the race to which he belongs may have earned distinction. In some

cases, therefore, his work may resemble carved wood, in others chased

or beaten metal. He will also be influenced, to some extent, by the

features and characteristic forms of the plants and animals peculiar

to his country. But wherever a race is endowed with a true instinct

for art, its architects will succeed in creating for stone

architecture an appropriate style of its own. The exigencies of the

material differ from those of metal or wood. Its unbending rigidity

places a great gulf between it and the elasticity and perpetual

mobility which characterize organic life. The Egyptian architects saw

from the first that this difference, or rather contrast, would have to

be reckoned with. They understood perfectly well that the shaft which

was to support a massive roof of stone must not be a copy of those

slender stems of lotus or papyrus which bend before the wind, or float

upon the lazy waters of the canals. The phrase _column-plant_ or

_plant-column_, which has sometimes been used in connection with the

columns of Luxor and Karnak, is a contradiction in terms.

But why should we dwell upon these questions of origin? In the history

of art, as in that of language, they are nearly always insoluble,

especially when we have to do with a race who created all their

artistic forms and idioms for themselves. The case is different when

we have to do with a nation who came under the influence of an earlier

civilization than their own. Then, and then only, can such an inquiry

lead to useful results. The word origin is then a synonym for

affiliation, and an inquiry is directed towards establishing the

method and the period in which the act of birth took place.

In our later volumes we shall have to go into such questions in

detail, but in the case of Egypt we are spared that task. All that we

mean by civilization had its origin in Egypt, so far, at least, as we

can tell. It is the highest point in the stream to which we can mount.

Any attempt to determine the genesis of each particular æsthetic

motive in a past so distant that a glance into its depths takes away

our breath, would be a mere waste of time and ingenuity.

§ 6. _The Ordonnance of Egyptian Colonnades._

A French writer tells us that uniformity is sure to give birth to

weariness sooner or later, and there are many people who would

believe, if they thought about it, that his words exactly apply to the

art of Egypt. The character which was given to it when its creations

first became known to modern Europe clings to it still. Our museums

are full of objects dating from the last centuries of the monarchy and

even from the Greek and Roman period. A very slight study of Egyptian

architecture is sufficient, however, to destroy such a prejudice, in

spite of its convenience for those who are lazily disposed. The pier

and column were extremely various in their types, as we have seen, and

each type was divided into numerous species. The same variety is found

in the arrangement, or ordonnance, of the columns, both in the

interior and exterior of their buildings. We cannot prove this better

than by placing a series of plans of hypostyle halls and porticos

before the eye of the reader, accompanied by a few illustrations in

perspective which will suffice to show the freedom enjoyed by the

Egyptian architect and the number of different arrangements which he

could introduce into a single building.

The fullest development of Egyptian columnar architecture is to be

found in their interiors.

[Illustration: FIG. 99.--Small chamber at Karnak.]

[Illustration: FIG. 100.--Apartment in the temple at Luxor.]

[Illustration: FIG. 101.--Hall of the temple at Abydos; _Description_,

vol. ii. p. 41.]

The simplest arrangement is to be found in the small chambers where

the roof is sustained by a single row of columns (Fig. 98). When the

apartment was slightly larger it contained two rows, the space between

the rows being wider than that between the columns and the wall (Fig.

100). Sometimes in still larger halls we find three rows of columns

separated from one another by equal spaces in every direction (Fig.

101). Finally in those great chambers which are known as hypostyle

halls, the number of columns seems to be practically unlimited. At

Karnak there are a hundred and thirty-four (Fig. 102), at the

Ramesseum forty-eight, at Medinet-Abou twenty-four.

[Illustration: FIG. 102.--Plan of part of the Hypostyle Hall at

Karnak.]

The full effect of the hypostyle hall is to be seen at Karnak and at

the Ramesseum. In those halls the central aisle is higher than the

parts adjoining and is distinguished by a different type of column

(Plate IV). It is more than probable that this happy arrangement was

not confined to Thebes. We should no doubt have encountered it in more

than one of the temples of Memphis and the Delta had they been

preserved to our time. Its principle was reproduced in the propylæa of

the acropolis at Athens, where the Ionic and Doric orders figured side

by side.

[Illustration: FIG. 103.--Tomb at Sakkarah.]

[Illustration: FIG. 104.--Hall in the inner portion of the Great

Temple at Karnak.]

In the ancient tombs at Sakkarah the quadrangular pier alone was used

to support the roof (Fig. 103). In the Theban temples it was combined

with the column. In the chamber called the ambulatory of Thothmes (J

in Fig. 215, Vol. I.), at Karnak, a row of square piers surrounds an

avenue of circular columns which to bear the roof (Fig. 104).

[Illustration: FIG. 105.--Portico of the first court at Medinet-Abou.]

[Illustration: FIG. 106.--Portico of the first court at Luxor.]

The external porticos are no less remarkable for variety of plan. At

Medinet-Abou we find one consisting of only a single row of columns

(Fig. 105). At Luxor the columns are doubled upon all four sides of

the first court (Fig. 106), and upon two sides of the second; upon one

side of the latter, the side nearest to the sanctuary, there are four

rows of columns (Fig. 107).

[Illustration: FIG. 107.--The portico of the pronaos, Luxor.]

All these are within the external walls of the courts, but the

peripteral portico, embracing the temple walls, like those of Greece,

is also to be found in a few rare instances (Fig. 108); as, for

example, in the small temple at Elephantiné which we have already

described.[120]

[120] Chapter iv. pp. 396-400, Vol. I.

[Illustration: FIG. 108.--Part plan of the temple at Elephantiné.]

[Illustration: FIG. 109.--Luxor, plan of the second court.]

In the cases where the portico is within the courts, it is sometimes

confined to two sides, as at Luxor (Fig. 109); the columns shown at

the top of our plan belong to the pronaos and not to the court. In the

Temple of Khons it surrounds three sides (Fig. 110), while the fine

court added to the temple of Luxor by Rameses II. has a double

colonnade all round it (Fig. 111).

Both in the interior of the halls and in the external porticos we find

an apparently capricious irregularity in spacing the columns.

Sometimes intercolumniations vary at points where we should expect

uniformity, as in the outer court of Luxor (Fig. 112). On two of the

faces the columns are farther apart than on the other two. The

difference is not easily seen on the ordinary small plans, but it is

conspicuous in the large one of the _Description_.[121]

[121] _Description de l'Égypte_, plates, vol. iii. pl. 5.

It is easy to understand why the spacing should have been increased in

front of a door, an arrangement which exists at Gournah (Fig. 113),

and at Luxor (Figs. 109 and 111).

[Illustration: FIG. 110.--Portico in the Temple of Khons.]

[Illustration: FIG. 111.--Luxor, portico of the first court.]

In the hypostyle halls we find columns of different sizes and orders.

Six of the great columns which form the central avenue at Karnak cover

as much ground, measuring from the first to the sixth, as nine of the

smaller pillars. Between supports so arranged and proportioned no

constant relation could be established (Fig. 114). The transverse

lines passing through the centres of each pair of great columns

correspond to the centres neither of the smaller shafts nor of the

spaces which divide them. The central aisle and the two lateral groves

of stone might have been the creations of separate architects, working

without communication with one another and without any desire to make

their proportions seem the result of one coherent idea.

In the inner hypostyle hall at Abydos the intercolumniations which

lead respectively to the seven sanctuaries vary in width (Fig. 115).

This variation is not shown by Mariette, from whose work our plan of

the temple as a whole was taken, but it is clearly seen in the plan

given in the _Description_. These are not the only instances in which

those early explorers of Egypt excelled their successors in minute

accuracy.

[Illustration: FIG. 112.--Part of the portico of the first court,

Luxor. From the _Description_, iii. 5.]

[Illustration: FIG. 113.--Portico in front of the façade of the temple

of Gournah. From the _Description_, ii. 41.]

Here and there we find the spaces in a single row of columns

increasing progressively from the two ends to the centre (Fig. 105).

[Illustration: FIG. 114.--Part of the Hypostyle Hall in the Great

Temple at Karnak.]

The combination of quadrangular with Osiride piers and of the latter

with columns proper was also productive of great variety. In the speos

of Gherf-Hossein six Osiride piers are inclosed by six of quadrangular

section (Fig. 116). In the first court at Medinet-Abou a row of

Osiride piers faces a row of columns (Fig. 117), while in the second

court there is a much more complicated arrangement. The lateral walls

of the court are prefaced each by a row of columns. The wall next the

entrance has a row of Osiride piers before it; while that through

which the pronaos is gained has a portico supported by, first, a row

of Osiride piers, and, behind them, by a row of columns (Fig. 118).

[Illustration: FIG. 115.--Second Hypostyle Hall in the temple of

Abydos. _Description_, iv. 36.]

[Illustration: FIG. 116.--Hall in the speos of Gherf-Hossein (from

Prisse).]

[Illustration: FIG. 117.--Medinet-Abou; first court.]

[Illustration: FIG. 118.--Medinet-Abou; second court.]

In the temple of Khons the peristyle is continued past the doorway in

the pylon (Fig. 119), and the inclosure is reached through one of the

intercolumniations.[122] At Luxor, on the other hand, the portico was

brought to an abrupt termination against the salient jambs of the

doorway (Fig. 120).

[122] This is a mistake. By a reference to Fig. 208, Vol. I., or

to Fig. 126 in this volume, it will be seen that the peristyle

was not continued along the inner face of the pylon.--ED.

[Illustration: FIG. 119.--Portico of the Temple of Khons, looking

towards pronaos.]

[Illustration: FIG. 120.--Portico of first court at Luxor.]

The Egyptian architect, like his Greek successor, made frequent use of

the _anta_, that is, he gave a salience to the extremities of his

walls which strengthened his design and afforded structural members,

akin to pilasters or quadrangular pillars, which were combined in

various ways with columns and piers. Sometimes the anta is nothing but

a slight prolongation of a wall beyond the point where it meets

another (Fig. 121); sometimes it is the commencement of a returning

wall which appears to have been broken off to give place to a row of

columns (Fig. 122); a good instance of the latter arrangement is to be

found on the façade of the temple at Gournah. Sometimes, as at

Medinet-Abou, it is a reinforcement to the extremity of a wall, and

serves to form a backing for colossal Osiride statues (Fig. 123),

sometimes it gives accent and strength to an angle, as in the Great

Hall at Karnak (Fig. 124). At the Temple of Khons the terminations of

the two rows of columns which form the portico are marked by antæ on

the inner face of the pylon (Fig. 126), while the wall which incloses

the pronaos is without any projection except the jambs of the door.

This arrangement has an obvious _raison d'être_; if the columns were

brought close up to the pylon their outlines would not combine happily

with its inclined walls. At the other extremity of the court, the wall

being perpendicular, there was no necessity for such an

arrangement.[123] A glance at Fig. 126 will make this readily

understood. At Medinet-Abou the portico is terminated laterally by two

antæ, one corresponding to the row of columns, the other to the row of

caryatid piers. In another court of the same temple the antæ on either

side vary in depth, at one end of the portico there is a bold

pilaster, at the other one which projects very slightly indeed (Fig.

128). This is another instance of the curious want of symmetry and

regularity which is one of the most constant characteristics of

Egyptian architecture.

[123] The arrangement in question is capable of another and,

perhaps, more simple explanation. The two rows of columns of

which the portico in question is composed, run in an unbroken

line round the court with the exception of the side which is

filled by the pylon. It was natural enough, therefore, that they

should each be stopped against an anta, even if there had not

been an additional reason in the inclination of the pylon. The

ordonnance as a whole may be compared to a long portico, like

that in the second court of the temple at Gournah, bent into two

right angles.--ED.

[Illustration: FIG. 121.--Anta, Luxor; second court. _Description_,

iii. 5.]

[Illustration: FIG. 122.--Anta, Gournah. From Gailhabaud.]

[Illustration: FIG. 123.--Anta, Medinet-Abou.]

[Illustration: FIG. 124.--Anta in the Great Hall of Karnak.]

[Illustration: FIG. 125.--Antæ, Temple of Khons. _Description_, iii.

54.]

[Illustration: FIG. 126.--Anta and base of pylon, Temple of Khons.

_Description_, iii. 55.]

The anta is often without a capital, as, for instance, in the temple

of Khons (Fig. 126). Elsewhere the architect seems to have wished to

bring it into more complete harmony with the magnificence of its

surroundings, and accordingly he gives it a capital, as at

Medinet-Abou, but a capital totally unlike those proper to the

column.[124] It was identical in form with that gorge or cornice which

crowns nearly every Egyptian wall. Considering that the anta was

really no more than a prolongation or momentary salience of the wall,

such an arrangement was judicious in every way (Fig. 129).

[124] In this the Greek architects took the same course as those

of Egypt.

[Illustration: FIG. 127.--Antæ, Medinet-Abou.]

[Illustration: FIG. 128.--Antæ, Medinet-Abou.]

The width of the intercolumniations also varied between one court or

hall and another, and, at least in the present state of the Egyptian

remains, we are unable to discover any rule governing the matter, such

as those by which Greek architects were guided. We may affirm

generally that the Egyptian constructor, especially in the time of the

New Empire and when using columns of large dimensions, preferred close

spacing to wide. His tendency to crowd his columns is to be explained,

partly by the great weight of the superstructure which they had to

support, partly by the national taste for a massive and close

architecture. The spaces between the great columns in the hypostyle

hall of Karnak, measured between the points of junction between the

bases and the shafts, is slightly less than two diameters. The spaces

between the smaller columns on each side are hardly more than one

diameter.

A better idea of the original character of these ordonnances may

perhaps be gathered from the plate which faces the next page (Pl.

VIII) than to any plan to which we could refer the reader. It

represents that part of the colonnade, in the second court of the

temple at Medinet-Abou, which veils the wall of the pronaos, and it

shows how little space the Egyptian architects thought necessary for

the purposes of circulation. The spaces between the columns and the

wall on the one hand and the osiride piers on the other, are not quite

equal to the diameter of the bases of those columns, which have,

however, been expressly kept smaller than was usual in Egypt. If they

had been as large as some that we could point out, there would have

been no room to pass between them and the wall.

Did the Egyptians ever employ isolated columns, not as structural

units, but for decorative purposes, for the support of a group or a

statue? Are there any examples of pillars like those which the

Phœnicians raised before their temples, or the triumphal columns of

the Romans, or those reared for commemorative purposes in Paris and

other cities of Modern Europe? It is impossible to give a confident

answer to this question. The remains of the great colonnade which

existed in the first court at Karnak, of which a single column with

bell-shaped capital is still upright (Fig. 130), suggest, perhaps,

that such monumental pillars were not unknown to the Egyptians. These

columns display the ovals of Tahraka, of Psemethek, and of Ptolemy

Philopator. The width of the avenue between them, measuring from

centre to centre, is so great, about fifty-five feet, that it is

difficult to believe that it could ever have been covered with a roof.

Even with wood it would have been no easy matter--for the

Egyptians--to cover such a void. We have, moreover, good reason to

believe that they never used wood and stone together in their temples.

A _velarium_ has been suggested, but there is nothing either in the

Egyptian texts or in their wall paintings to hint at their use of such

a covering.

It would have been quite possible to connect the summits of these

columns together lengthwise. The architraves would have had less than

twenty feet to bridge over. But not the slightest relic of such a

structure has been found, and it is difficult to see what good purpose

it could have served had it existed.

The authors of the _Description_ came to the conclusion that there had

been no roof of any kind to the avenue formed by the columns, that

they merely formed a kind of monumental approach to the hypostyle

hall.[125] Mariette also discards the idea of architraves, which would

have to be unusually long, but he cannot accept the notion that the

columns were merely colossal venetian masts bordering the approach to

the sanctuary. He supposes the centre of the courtyard to have

contained a small hypæthral temple built by Tahraka. This temple

figures upon his plan, but neither he himself, by his own confession,

nor any one else has ever found the slightest trace of it in

reality.[126] In the excavations made by him in 1859, he did not find

a vestige even of the two columns which he inserts upon each of the

two short sides of the rectangle. These columns were necessary in

order to complete a peripteral arrangement, similar to that which

exists in the hypæthral temples at Philæ and in Nubia. The closest

study of the site has brought to light nothing beyond the twelve

columns shown in our plan (Fig. 214, E, Vol. I.).

[125] _Description, Antiquités_, vol. v. pp. 120, 121. In their

_Description Générale de Thèbes_ (ch. ix. section 8, § 2), the

same writers add: "We are confirmed in our opinion by the

discovery on a bas-relief of four lotus stems with their flowers

surmounted by hawks and statues, and placed exactly in the same

fashion as the columns which we have just described. They are

votive columns. We are also confirmed in this opinion by the

fact that we find things like them among those amulets which

reproduce the various objects in the temples in small." This

bas-relief is figured in the third volume of plates of the

_Description_, pl. 33, Fig. 1.

[126] MARIETTE, _Karnak_, p. 19, pl. 4. _Voyage dans la

Haute-Égypte_, pp. 13, 21, 22.

[Illustration: Ch. Chipiez del Hibon sc.

THEBES

PORTICO IN THE TEMPLE OF MEDINET-ABOU (SECOND COURT)

Restored by Ch. Chipiez.

Imp. Ch. Chardon]

[Illustration: FIG. 129.--Anta and column at Medinet-Abou.]

[Illustration: FIG. 130.--Column in the court of the Bubastides, at

Karnak.]

The most probable explanation is that which we have hinted at

above.[127] These great columns were erected to give majesty to the

approach to the hypostyle hall, and to border the path followed by the

great religious processions as they issued from the hall and made for

the great doorway in the pylon. They must always have been isolated,

and it is possible that formerly each carried upon the cubic die which

still surmounts the capital, groups of bronze similar to those which,

to all appearance, crowned those stele-like piers which we described

in speaking of the work of Thothmes in the same temple (page 94). This

was also the opinion of Prisse d'Avennes, who studied the monuments of

Egypt, both as an artist and as an archæologist, more closely,

perhaps, than any one else.[128] It has been objected that the

columns would hide each other, and that the symbolic animals perched

upon their summits could not have been seen; but this would only be

the case with those who looked at them from certain disadvantageous

positions--from between the columns, or exactly on their alignment.

From the middle of the avenue, or from one side of it, they would be

clearly visible, and the vivid colours of their enamels would produce

their full effect.

[127] This explanation seems to have been accepted by Prof.

EBERS; _Ægypten im Bild und Wort_, vol. ii. p. 331.

[128] MAXIME DU CAMP, _Le Nil_, p. 251.

The question might be decided in a very simple fashion. The summit of

the column which is still upright might be examined, or the abacus of

one of those which have fallen might be discovered; in either case

traces of the objects which they supported would be found, supposing

our hypothesis to be correct. More than one doubtful question of this

kind would long ago have been solved had the Egyptian monuments been

studied on the spot by archæologists and artists instead of being left

almost entirely to the narrower experience of engineers and

egyptologists.

In the absence of evidence to the contrary, we shall, then, look upon

it as probable that the Egyptians sometimes raised columns, like other

people, not for the support of roofs and architraves, but as gigantic

pedestals, as self-contained decorative forms, with independent parts

of their own to play. Such a proceeding was doubtless an innovation in

Egyptian art--one of those fresh departures which date from the latter

years of the Monarchy. Even in Egypt motives grew stale with

repetition at last, and she cried out for something new.

§ 7. _Monumental Details._

We have seen that the proportions, the entasis, the shape, and the

decoration of the Egyptian column, were changed more than once and in

many ways. The Egyptian artist, by his fertility of resource and

continual striving after improvement, showed that he was by no means

actuated by that blind respect for tradition which has been too often

attributed to him. Besides, the remains which we possess are but a

small part of Egyptian architecture. The buildings of Memphis and of

the Delta have perished. Had they been preserved we should doubtless

have found among them forms and details which do not exist in the

ruins of Abydos, of Thebes, or in the Nubian hypogea; we should have

been able to describe arrangements and motives which do not occur in

the works of the three great Theban dynasties.

[Illustration: FIG. 131.--Stereobate, Luxor.]

[Illustration: FIG. 132.--Stereobate with double plinth, Luxor.]

On the other hand, the mouldings and other details of the same kind

are monotonous in the extreme. Their want of variety is not to be

explained, like that of Assyria, by the nature of the materials.

Brick, granite, limestone, and sandstone constituted a series of

materials in which a varied play of light and shade, such as that

which characterized Greek architecture, should have been easy. The

real cause of the poverty of Egyptian design in this particular is to

be found in their habit of covering nearly every surface with a carved

and painted decoration. More elaborate or bolder mouldings might have

interfered with the succession of row upon row of pictures from the

bottom to the top of a wall. The eye was satisfied with the rich

polychromatic decoration, and did not require it to be supplemented by

architectural ornament.

When the slope of a wall was ornamented with projections in the shape

of mouldings it was because the wall was bare. At Luxor, for example,

in the external face of the wall which incloses the back of the

temple, the lowest course projects beyond the others, forming a step,

and a few courses above it there is a hollow moulding similar in

section to the cornice at the top; the lower part of the wall is thus

formed into a stereobate (Fig. 131). At another point in the

circumference of this temple there is a stereobate of a more

complicated description. It is terminated above by a cornice-shaped

moulding like that just described, but it rests upon two steps instead

of one (Fig. 132). By this it appears that the Egyptian architects

understood how to add to apparent solidity of their buildings by

expanding them at their junction with the ground. This became a true

continuous stylobate, carrying piers, in peripteral temples like that

at Elephantiné (Fig. 230, Vol. I.). In the latter building its form is

identical with that which we have just described.

We have now to describe an arrangement which, though rare in the

Pharaonic period, was afterwards common enough. The portico which

stretches across the back of the second court in the Ramesseum is

closed to about a third of its height by a kind of pluteus (Fig.

133).[129] This barrier formed a sort of tablet, surrounded by a

fillet, and crowned by a cornice of the usual type, between each pair

of Osiride piers. In the Ptolemaic temples the lower part of the

portico was always closed in this fashion. It constitutes the only

inclosure in front of the fine hypostyle hall at Denderah.

[129] The _Description de l'Égypte_ indicates the existence of

this pluteus both in the Ramesseum (vol. ii. pl. 29) and at

Medinet-Abou (vol. ii. pl. 7, Fig. 2). Photographs do not show a

trace of it, but many parts of those buildings had disappeared

before the beginning of the present century. There is no reason

to suppose that the Ramesseum underwent any modification after

the termination of the Theban supremacy. In his restoration of

Dayr-el-Bahari, M. Brune has introduced a similar detail, which

he would assuredly not have done unless he had found traces of

it under the portico. Unfortunately his restoration is on a very

small scale. That at Dayr-el-Bahari must have been the earliest

example of such an arrangement.

We have now studied buildings in sufficient number to become familiar

with the _Egyptian Gorge_. As early as the Ancient Empire the

architects of Egypt had invented this form of cornice, and used it

happily upon their massive structures. It is composed of three

elements, which are always arranged in the same order. In the first

place there is the circular moulding or torus with a carved ribbon

twisting about it. This moulding occurs at the edge where two faces

meet in most Egyptian buildings. It serves to give firmness and accent

to the angles and, when used at the top of the wall, to mark the point

where the wall ends and the cornice begins. Above this there is a

hollow curve with perpendicular grooves, which, again, is surmounted

by a plain fillet which makes a sharp line against the sky. In all

this there is a skilful opposition of hollows to flat surfaces, of

deep shadow to brilliant and unbroken sunlight, which marks the upward

determination of the great masses upon which it is used in the most

effective manner.

[Illustration: FIG. 133.--Pluteus in the intercolumniations of the

portico in the second court of the Ramesseum.]

Although the Egyptian architect repeated this cornice continually, he

contrived to give it variety of effect by modifying its proportions,

and by introducing different kinds of ornaments. In the pylons, for

instance, we often find that the cornice of the doorway was both

deeper and of bolder projection than those upon the two masses of the

pylon itself (Fig. 134). It was generally ornamented with the winged

globe, an emblem which was afterwards appropriated by the nations

which became connected with Egypt.

[Illustration: FIG. 134.--Doorway, Luxor. _Description_, iii. 6.]

This emblem in its full development was formed of the solar disk

supported on each side by the _uræus_, the serpent which meant

royalty. The sun was thus designated as the greatest of kings, the

king who mounted up into space, enlightening and vivifying the upper

and lower country at one and the same time. The disk and its

supporters were flanked by the two wide stretching wings with rounded,

fan-shaped extremities, which symbolized the untiring activity of the

sun in making its daily journey from one extremity of the firmament to

the other. Egyptologists tell us that the group as a whole signifies

the triumph of right over wrong, the victory of Horus over Set. An

inscription at Edfou tells us that, after the victory, Thoth ordered

that this emblem should be carved over every doorway in Egypt, and, in

fact, there are very few lintels without it.[130] It first appears at

about the time of the twelfth dynasty, according to Mariette, but its

form was at first more simple. There were no _uræi_, and the wings

were shorter, and pendent instead of outstretched.[131] Towards the

eighteenth dynasty it took the shape in which it is figured in our

illustrations, and became thenceforward the Egyptian symbol _par

excellence_.

[130] The history and signification of this symbol were treated

by BRUGSCH in a paper entitled: "_Die Sage von der geflügelten

Sonnenscheibe nach alt Ægyptischen Quellen dargestellt._"

[131] In this restricted and comparatively mean form the emblem

in question is found at Beni-Hassan. (LEPSIUS, _Denkmæler_, part

ii. pl. 123.)

[Illustration: FIG. 135.--Cornice of the Ramesseum. _Description_, ii.

30.]

[Illustration: FIG. 136.--Cornice of a wooden pavilion; from Prisse.]

In the more richly decorated buildings, such as the Ramesseum, we

sometimes find cartouches introduced between the vertical grooves of

the cornice (Fig. 135). In the representations of architecture on the

painted walls the upper member of the cornice as usually constituted,

is often surmounted by an ornament composed of the uræus and the solar

disk, the latter being upon the head of the former (Fig. 136). This

addition gives a richer and more ample cornice, which the Ptolemaic

architects carried out in stone. It is not to be found thus

perpetuated in any Pharaonic building, but the same motive occurs at

Thebes, below the cornice, and its existence in the bas-reliefs shows

that even in early times it was sometimes used. Perhaps it was

confined to those light structures in which complicated forms were

easily carried out.

This cornice seemed to the Egyptians to be so entirely the proper

termination for their rising surfaces, that they placed it at the top

of their stylobates (Figs. 131 and 132) and their pedestals (Fig.

137). They also used it within their buildings at the top of the walls

behind their colonnades, as, for instance, in the peripteral temple at

Elephantiné (Fig. 138).

The number of buildings in which this cornice was not used is very

small. The Royal Pavilion at Medinet-Abou is surrounded, at the top,

by a line of round-headed battlements; in the Temple of Semneh, built

by Thothmes I.,[132] and in the pronaos of the Temple of Amada, the

usual form gives place to a square cornice which is quite primitive in

its simplicity.

[132] LEPSIUS, _Denkmæler_, vol. ii. pl. 83, and vol. v. pl. 56.

[Illustration: FIG. 137.--Pedestal of a Sphinx at Karnak.

_Description_, iii. 29.]

[Illustration: FIG. 138.--Cornice under the portico, Elephantiné.]

Traces of other mouldings, such as those which we call the _cyma_, and

the _cyma reversa_, may be found in Egyptian temples, but they occur

so rarely that we need not dwell upon them here or figure them.[133]

[133] See CHIPIEZ, _Histoire Critique des Ordres Grecques_, p.

90.

Besides these mouldings, which were used but very rarely, we need only

mention one more detail of the kind, namely, those vertical and

horizontal grooves which occur upon the masonry walls and were derived

from the structures in wood. They were chiefly used for the

ornamentation of the great surfaces afforded by the brick walls (Fig.

261, Vol. I.), but they are also to be found upon stone buildings. We

give, as an example, a fragment found at Alexandria, which is supposed

to belong to the lower part of a sarcophagus. A curious variation of

the same ornament exists in one of the royal tombs at Thebes (Fig.

140), in which each panel is separated from its neighbours by the

figures of headless men with their hands tied behind their backs. They

represent, no doubt, prisoners of war who have been beheaded, and the

decorator has wished, by the use of a somewhat barbarous though

graceful motive, to suggest the exploits of him for whom the sepulchre

was destined.

[Illustration: FIG. 139.--Fragment of a sarcophagus. _Description_, v.

47.]

Not much variety was to be obtained from the use of these grooves, but

yet they disguised the nudity of great wall spaces, they prevented

monotony from becoming too monotonous, while they afforded linear

combinations which had some power to please the eye. The Assyrians

made use of hardly any other mode of breaking up the uniformity of

their brick walls.

[Illustration: FIG. 140.--Fragment of decoration from a royal tomb at

Thebes. _Description_, ii. 86.]

It has been asserted that the first signs of that egg-moulding which

played so great a part in Greek architecture are to be found in

Egypt. Nestor L'Hôte thought that he recognised it in the entablature,

under the architrave, of some pavilions figured in decorations at

Tell-el-Amarna and at Abydos.[134] He was certainly mistaken. The

outline of the ornament to which he referred has a distant resemblance

to the moulding in question, but the place which it occupies gives it

an entirely different character; it seems to be suspended in the air

under the entablature. In other painted pavilions the same place is

occupied by flowers, bunches of grapes, and fruits resembling dates or

acorns, suspended in the same fashion.[135] If such forms must be

explained otherwise than by the mere fancy of the ornamentist, we

should be inclined to see in them metal weights hung round the edges

of the awnings, which supplied the place of a roof in many wooden

pavilions.

[134] _Lettres_, pp. 68, 117.

[135] See the plate in PRISSE entitled _Details de Colonnettes

de Bois_.

The same remarks may be applied to those objects, or rather

appearances, to which the triglyphs of the Doric order have been

referred. It is true that in the figured architecture of the

bas-reliefs many of the architraves seem to show vertical incisions

arranged in groups of three, each group being separated from the next

by a square space which recalls the Greek metope (Figs. 62-64). But

sometimes these stripes follow each other at regular intervals,

sometimes they are in pairs, and sometimes they are altogether absent,

the architrave being either plain or decorated with figures and

inscriptions. Where the stripes are present they represent sometimes

applied ornaments, sometimes the ends of transverse joists appearing

between the beams of the architrave. Similar ornaments surround the

paintings in the tombs, and are to be found upon the articles of

furniture, such as chairs, which form part of most Egyptian museums.

Neither these so-called triglyphs and metopes, which do slightly

resemble the details so named of the Doric order, nor the egg

moulding, which is a pure delusion, ever received that established

form and elemental character which alone gives such things importance.

Architecture--stone architecture--made no use of them, and the

analogies which some have endeavoured to establish are misleading. The

apparent coincidence resulted from the nature of the material and from

the limited number of combinations which it allowed.

§ 8. _Doors and Windows._

So far we have been concerned with the structure and shape of Egyptian

buildings; we have now to describe the openings pierced in their

substance for the admission of light, for the circulation of their

inhabitants and for the entrance of visitors from without. The doors

and windows of the Egyptians were peculiar in many ways and deserve to

be carefully described.

DOORS.

The plans of Egyptian doorways do not always show the same

arrangements. The embrasure of which we moderns make use is seldom met

with. It occurs in the peripteral temple at Elephantiné, but that is

quite an exception (Fig. 141). The doorways of the temples were

generally planned as in Fig. 142, and in the passage which traverses

the thickness of the pylons, there is in the middle an enlargement

forming a kind of chamber into which, no doubt, double doors fell back

on either side (Fig. 143).

In their elevations doorways show still greater variety.

Let us consider in the first place those by which access was gained to

the _temenos_, or outer inclosure, of the temple. They may be divided

into three classes.

First of all comes the pylon proper, with its great doorway flanked on

either side by a tower which greatly exceeds it in height (Fig. 207,

Vol. I.). Champollion has pointed out that even in the Egyptian texts

themselves a distinction is made between the _pylon_ and that which he

calls the _propylon_. The latter consists of a door opening through

the centre of a single pyramidoid mass, and instead of forming a

façade to the temple itself, it is used for the entrances to the outer

inclosure. Figs. 144 and 145 show the different hieroglyphs which

represent it.[136]

[136] From CHAMPOLLION, _Grammaire Égyptienne_, p. 53.

These propylons, to adopt Champollion's term, seem to have included

two different types which are now known to us only through the

Ptolemaic buildings and the monumental paintings, as the boundary

walls of the Pharaonic period have almost entirely disappeared and

their gateways with them.

[Illustration: FIG. 141.--Plan of doorway, Temple of Elephantiné.]

[Illustration: FIG. 142.--Plan of doorway, Temple of Khons.]

We have illustrated the first type in our restoration, page 339, Vol.

I. (Fig. 206). The doorway itself is very high, in which it resembles

many propylons of the Greek period which still exist at Karnak and

Denderah.[137] The thickness of the whole mass and its double cornice,

between which the covered way on the top of the walls could be

carried, are features which we also encounter in the propylon of

Denderah and in that of the temple at Daybod in Nubia.[138] We have

added nothing but the wall, and a gateway, in Egypt, implies a wall;

for there is no reason to suppose that the Egyptians had anything

analogous to the triumphal arches of the Romans. The temple was a

closed building, to which all access was forbidden to the crowd. The

doors may well have been numerous, but, if they were to be of any use

at all, they must have been connected by a continuous barrier which

should force the traffic to pass through them.

[137] EBERS, _Ægypten_, p. 250.

[138] FELIX TEYNARD, _Vues d'Égypte et de Nubie_, pl. 106.

[Illustration: FIG. 143.--Plan of doorway in the pylon, Temple of

Khons. _Description_, iii. 54.]

[Illustration: FIGS. 144, 145.--The pylon and propylon of the

hieroglyphs.]

In our restorations this doorway rises above the walls on each side

and stands out from them, on plan, both within and without. We may

fairly conjecture that it was so. The architect would hardly have

wasted rich decoration and a well designed cornice upon a mass which

was to be almost buried in the erections on each side of it. It must

have been conspicuous from a distance, and this double relief would

make it so. There are, moreover, a few instances in which these

secondary entrances have been preserved together with the walls

through which they provided openings, and they fully confirm our

conjectures. One of these is the gateway to the outer court of the

Temple of Thothmes at Medinet-Abou (Fig. 146). This gateway certainly

belongs to the Ptolemaic part of the building, but we have no reason

to suppose that the architects of the Macedonian period deserted the

ancient forms.

[Illustration: FIG. 146.--Gateway to the court-yard of the small

Temple at Medinet-Abou. _Description_, ii. 4.]

[Illustration: FIG. 147.--A propylon with its masts.]

The propylons were decorated with masts like the pylons, as we see by

a figure in a painting in one of the royal tombs at Thebes, which was

reproduced by Champollion[139] (Fig. 147). Judging from the scenes and

inscriptions which accompany it, Champollion thought this represented

a propylon at the Ramesseum. That the artist should, as usual, have

omitted the wall, need not surprise us when we remember how monotonous

and free from incident those great brick inclosures must have been.

[139] _Monuments de l'Égypte et de la Nubie_, _Notices

Descriptives_, p. 504.

The second type of propylon differs from the first in having a very

much smaller doorway in comparison with its total mass. In the former

the door reaches almost to the cornice, in the latter it occupies but

a very small part of the front. This is seen in Fig. 147, and, still

more conspicuously, in Fig. 148, which was also copied by Champollion

from a tomb at Thebes.[140] In one of these examples the walls are

nearly vertical, in another they have a considerable slope, but the

arrangement is the same and the proportions of the openings to the

towers themselves do not greatly differ. Our Fig. 149, which was

composed by the help of those representations, is meant to give an

idea of the general composition of which the door with its carved

jambs and architrave, and the tower with its masts and banners, are

the elements. The two types only differ from one another in the

relative dimensions of their important parts, and the transition

between them may have been almost imperceptible. It would seem that in

the Ptolemaic epoch the wide and lofty doors were the chief objects of

admiration, while under the Pharaohs, the towers through which they

were pierced were thought of more importance.

[140] _Notices Descriptives_, p. 431.

[Illustration: FIG. 148.--A propylon.]

If we examine the doorways of the temples themselves we shall there

also find great variety in the manner in which they are combined

architecturally with the walls in which they occur.

[Illustration: FIG. 149.--Gateway in the inclosing wall of a Temple.

Restored by Ch. Chipiez.]

In the Temple of Khons the jambs of the door are one, architecturally,

with the wall. The courses are continuous. The lintel alone, being

monolithic, has a certain independence (Fig. 150). In the Temple of

Gournah, on the other hand, the doorway forms a separate and

self-contained composition. The jambs are monoliths as well as the

lintel, and the latter, notwithstanding the great additional weight

which it has to carry, does not exceed the former in section. At

Abydos, on the other hand, the capital part which this stone has to

play is indicated by the great size of the sandstone block of which it

is composed (Fig. 154).

[Illustration: FIG. 150.--Doorway of the Temple of Khons.

_Description_, iii. 54.]

[Illustration: FIG. 151.--Doorway of the Temple of Gournah.

_Description_, ii. 42.]

One of the doorways we have represented, that in Fig. 146, requires to

be here mentioned again for a moment. Its lintel is discontinuous. The

doorway in question dates from the Ptolemaic period, but there is

undoubted evidence that the same form was sometimes used in the

Pharaonic period for the openings in inclosing walls. There is a

representation of such a door in a bas-relief at Karnak, where it is

shown in front of a pylon and forms probably an opening in a boundary

wall.[141] It was this representation that decided us to give a broken

lintel to the doorway opposite to the centre of the royal pavilion at

Medinet-Abou (Plate VIII.). This form of entrance may have originated

in the desire to give plenty of head-room for the canopy under which

the sovereign was carried, as well as for the banners and various

standards which we see figured in the triumphal and religious

processions of the bas-reliefs (Fig. 172, Vol. I.).

[141] PRISSE, _Histoire de l'Art Égyptien_.

[Illustration: FIG. 152.--Doorway of the Temple of Seti, at Abydos.]

WINDOWS.

[Illustration: FIGS. 153, 154.--Windows in the Royal Pavilion at

Medinet-Abou.]

The royal pavilion at Medinet-Abou is the only building in Egypt which

has preserved for us those architectural features which we call

windows. They differ one from another, even upon this single building,

as much as the doors. One of them (Fig. 153) is enframed like the

doorway at Gournah; but the jambs are merely the ends of the courses

which make up the wall, and their salience is very slight. On the

other hand a window frame with a very bold relief (Fig. 154) is to be

found in the same building. This window is a little work of art in

itself. It is surmounted by a cornice, over which again appear various

emblems carved in stone, making up one of the most graceful

compositions to be found in Egyptian architecture.

§ 9. _The Illumination of the Temples._

We have described the way in which the Egyptian architects treated

doors and windows from an artistic point of view; we have yet to show

the method which they adopted for allowing sufficient light to

penetrate into their temples, that is, into those buildings, which,

being closely shut against the laity, could not be illuminated from

windows in their side walls. Palaces and private houses could have

their windows as large and as numerous as they chose, but the temple

could only be lighted from the roof, or at least from parts contiguous

to the roof.

[Illustration: FIG. 155.--Attic of the Great Hall at Karnak. Restored

by Ch. Chipiez.]

[Illustration: FIG. 156.--_Claustra_ of the Hypostyle Hall, Karnak.

_Description_, iii. 23.]

The hypostyle hall at Karnak, with its lofty walls and close ranges of

columns, would have been in almost complete darkness had it been left

to depend for light upon its doors alone. But the difference of height

between the central aisle and those to the right and left of it, was

taken advantage of to introduce the light required for the proper

display of its magnificent decorations. The wall which filled up the

space between the lower and upper sections of roof, forming something

almost identical with the clerestory of a Gothic cathedral, was

constructed of upright sandstone slabs, about sixteen feet high, which

were pierced with numerous perpendicular slits. Stone gratings, or

_claustra_ as the Romans would have called them, were thus formed,

through which the sunlight could stream into the interior. The slits

were about ten inches wide and six feet high. The illustration on page

163 shows how the slabs were arranged and explains, moreover, the

general disposition of the roof. Fig. 156 gives the _claustra_ in

detail, in elevation, in plan, and in perspective.

The hypostyle halls are nearly always lighted upon the same principle.

The chief differences are found in the sizes of the openings. At the

Temple of Khons, where the space to be lighted was not nearly so

large, the slabs of the _claustra_ were much smaller and the openings

narrower (Fig. 157). In one of the inner halls at Karnak a different

system has been used. The light penetrates through horizontal openings

in the entablature, between the architrave and the cornice, divided

one from another by cubes of stone (Fig. 158). In the inside the

architrave was bevelled on its upper edge, so as to allow the light to

penetrate into the interior at a better angle than it would otherwise

have done.

[Illustration: FIG. 157.--_Claustra_ in the Hypostyle Hall of the

Temple of Khons. Compiled from the elevations in the _Description_,

iii. 28.]

The use of these _claustra_, full of variety though they were in the

hands of a skilful architect, were not the only methods of lighting

their temples to which the Egyptians had recourse. They were helped in

their work, or, in the case of very small chambers, replaced, by

oblique or vertical openings contrived in the roof itself. These

oblique holes are found in the superior angles of the hypostyle hall

at Karnak (Fig. 159). After the roof was in place it was seen, no

doubt, that the _claustra_ did not of themselves give enough light for

the huge chamber, and these narrow openings were laboriously cut in

its ceiling. One of the inner chambers of the Temple of Khons is

feebly lighted by vertical holes cut through the slabs of the roof

(Fig. 160). Similar openings are to be seen in the lateral aisles of

the hypostyle hall in the Ramesseum. The slight upward projection

which surrounds the upper extremities of these holes should be

noticed (Fig. 161). Finally there are buildings in which these

openings are the only sources of illumination. This is notably the

case in the Temple of Amada. The upper part of our plan (Fig. 162)

represents the roof of that temple and the symmetrically arranged

openings with which it is pierced.

[Illustration: FIG. 158.--Method of lighting in one of the inner halls

of Karnak. Compiled from the plans and elevations of the

_Description_.]

[Illustration: FIG. 159.--Auxiliary light-holes in the Hypostyle Hall

at Karnak. _Description_, iii. 26.]

[Illustration: FIG. 160.--Method of lighting one of the rooms in the

Temple of Khons. _Description_, iii. 55.]

[Illustration: FIG. 161.--Light openings in a lateral aisle of the

Hypostyle Hall in the Ramesseum. From a photograph.]

The Ptolemaic Temple of Edfou is much more generously treated in the

matter of light. Its flat roof is pierced by two large rectangular

openings resembling the _compluvium_ of a Pompeian house, and making

it, in a certain sense, hypæthral. No example of such an arrangement

has been met with in the Pharaonic temples. It is possible that its

principle was directly borrowed from the Greeks. It is hardly so

consistent with the national ideas and traditions as the _claustra_.

[Illustration: FIG. 162.--The Temple of Amada.]

[Illustration: FIG. 163.--_Claustra_, from a painting.]

Palaces and private houses were, as we have said, better lighted than

the temples. The illustrations in the preceding chapter show private

houses with their windows. Some of those houses had windows formed of

stone _claustra_. The window copied by Champollion[142] from the walls

of a small chamber in the Temple of Thothmes at Medinet-Abou (Fig.

163), shows this, as well as an opening in the house illustrated in

Fig. 19, which we here reproduce upon a larger scale (Fig. 164). We do

the same for a window belonging to the building shown in Fig. 1. It is

closed by a mat which was raised, no doubt, by means of a roller and

cords (Fig. 165).

[142] _Notices Descriptives_, p. 332, fig. 2.

[Illustration: FIG. 164.--Window of a house in the form of

_claustra_.]

[Illustration: FIG. 165.--Window closed by a mat.]

§ 10. _The Obelisks._

We cannot bring our analysis of the forms and motives of Egyptian

architecture to an end without mentioning a monumental type which is

peculiar to Egypt, that of the _obelisks_. These are granite

monoliths[143] of great height, square on plan, dressed on all four

faces, and slightly tapering from base to summit. They usually

terminate in a small pyramid, whose rapidly sloping sides contrast

strongly with the gentle inclination of the main block beneath. This

small pyramid is called the pyramidion.

[143] In front of the sphinxes which stand before the great

pylon at Karnak there are two small obelisks of sandstone.

The tall and slender shapes of these monoliths and their pointed

summits have led to their being compared, in popular language, with

needles and spindles.[144] The first Greeks who visited the country

and found a monumental type so unlike anything they had at home,

wished to convey a good idea of it to their compatriots; they

accordingly made use of the word ὀβελός, a spindle. It is

difficult to understand how their descendants came to prefer ὀβελίσκος,

a little spindle.[145] A diminutive hardly seems the right

kind of word under the circumstances; an augmentative would, perhaps,

have been better. But it was this diminutive that the Romans borrowed

from the Greeks of Alexandria and transmitted to the modern world.

[144] The Italians call them _guglie_, needles, and the Arabs

_micellet Faraoun_, Pharaoh's needles. The obelisks now in

London and New York respectively, which were taken by the Romans

from the ruins of Heliopolis, in order to be erected in front of

the Cæsareum at Alexandria, were known as Cleopatra's Needles.

Herodotus only used the expression, ὀβελός. Ἐν τῷ τεμένει

ὀβελοὶ ἑστάσι μεγάλοι λίθινοι (ii. 172; also ii. 111).

[145] DIODORUS (i. 57, 59), always uses the word ὀβελίσκος. The

termination is certainly that of a diminutive. See AD. REGNIER,

_Traité de la Formation des Mots dans la Langue Grecque_, p.

207.

This is not the place for an inquiry into the meaning of the obelisk.

It may symbolize, as we have often been told, the ray of the sun, or

it may be an emblem of Amen-Generator.[146] It seems to be well

established, that in the time of the New Empire at least, it was used

to write the syllable _men_, which signified _firmness_ or

_stability_.[147]

[146] DE ROUGÉ, _Étude sur les Monuments de Karnak_.

[147] PIERRET, _Dictionnaire d'Archéologie Égyptienne_.

The usual situation of the obelisks was in front of the first pylon of

the temples. There they stood in couples, one upon each side of the

entrance. Those instances where they are found, as at Karnak,

surrounded by the buildings of the temple, are easily explained. The

two obelisks in the caryatid court were erected during the eighteenth

dynasty, at a time when those parts of the temple which lie between

the obelisks and the outer wall were not yet in existence. The

obelisks of Hatasu, when first erected, were in front of the Temple of

Amen as it was left by the early sovereigns of the eighteenth dynasty.

But the obelisk was not the exclusive property of the temples. Some

little ones of limestone have been found in the mastabas,[148] and

Mariette has described those which formerly stood in front of the

royal tombs belonging to the eleventh dynasty, in the Theban

necropolis. He has published the inscription which covers the four

faces of one of these obelisks, a monolith some ten feet nine inches

high.[149] Obelisks seem also to have been employed for the decoration

of palaces, as we may conclude from a Theban painting in which one

appears before the principal entrance to a villa surrounded with

beautiful gardens.[150] Judging by the sizes of people in the same

painting, this obelisk must have been about thirteen feet high.

[148] A small funerary obelisk, about two feet high, is now in

the museum of Berlin. It is figured in the _Denkmæler_, part ii.

pl. 88. It was found in a Gizeh tomb dating from the fifth

dynasty.

[149] MARIETTE, _Monuments Divers_, pl. 50. The obelisks

illustrated in this chapter are all drawn to the same scale in

order to facilitate comparison.

[150] WILKINSON, _Manners and Customs_, etc., p. 396.

Diodorus speaks of obelisks erected by Sesostris which were 120

cubits, nearly 180 feet, high;[151] and different texts allude to

monoliths which were 130, 117, and 114 feet high. We have some

difficulty in accepting the first of these figures. The obelisk of

Hatasu, at Karnak, which is the tallest known, is 108 feet 10 inches

in height.[152] That which is still standing at Matarieh, on the site

of the ancient Heliopolis, is only 67 feet 4 inches high. But the fact

that it is the oldest of the colossal obelisks of Egypt makes it more

interesting than some which surpass it in size (Fig. 167). It bears

the name of Ousourtesen I., of the twelfth dynasty. As a rule, the

inscriptions cut upon the four sides of those obelisks which are

complete are very insignificant. They consist of little but pompous

enumerations of the royal titles.[153]

[151] DIODORUS, i. 57.

[152] Recent measurement has shown that the height given on page

105, Vol. I., is incorrect.--ED.

[153] In the _Dictionnaire d'Archéologie Égyptienne_ of M.

PIERRET, a translation of the hieroglyphics upon one side of the

Paris obelisk will be found under the word _Obélisque_. The

_Athenæum_ for October 27, 1877, contains a complete translation

of the inscription upon the London obelisk, by DR. BIRCH.--ED.

[Illustration: FIG. 166.--Funerary obelisk in the Necropolis of

Thebes. From Mariette.[154]]

[154] _Monuments Divers_, pl. 50.

The two obelisks erected by Rameses II. in front of the first pylon at

Luxor were slightly unequal in height. One was 83 feet 4 inches, the

other 78 feet 5 inches. To hide this difference to some extent they

were set upon bases also of unequal height, and the shorter was placed

slightly in advance of its companion, _i.e._ slightly nearer to the

spectator approaching the temple by the dromos.[155] By these means

they hoped to make the difference between the two less conspicuous.

This difference may have been caused by any slight accident, or by the

discovery of a flaw in the granite during the operation of cutting it

in the quarry. In dealing with huge blocks like these, such

_contretemps_ must have been frequent.

[155] _Description, Antiquites_, vol. ii. pp. 371-373. In our

view of Luxor on page 345 we have restored the base of the

larger obelisk after that belonging to the one now at Paris. We

were without any other means of ascertaining its form.

The smaller of the two obelisks was chosen for transport to Paris in

1836. In its present situation on the Place de la Concorde it is

separated from the sculptured base upon which it stood at Luxor. The

northern and southern faces of that pedestal were each ornamented with

four cynocephali adoring the rising sun; the other two had figures of

the god Nile presenting offerings to Amen (Fig. 168).

In order to restore this and other obelisks to the form which they

enjoyed in the days of the Pharaohs we should have to give them back

their original summits as well as their pedestals. Hittorf has shown

that these probably consisted of caps of gilded copper fitted over the

pyramidion,[156] in those cases where the latter was not ornamented

with carved figures. A curious passage in Abd-al-latif, which has been

often cited, proves that the pyramid of Ousourtesen preserved its cap

as late as the thirteenth century. "The summit," says the Arab

historian, "is covered with a kind of funnel-shaped copper cap, which

descends about three cubits from the apex. The weather of so many

centuries has made the copper green and rusty, and some of the green

has run down the shaft of the obelisk."[157] In the plate attached to

his essay, Hittorf gives us a plan and elevation of the pyramidion of

the smaller obelisk of Luxor. He shows how its broken and irregular

mass implies a metallic covering, a covering whose existence is

moreover proved by the groove or rebate, about an inch and a half

deep, which runs round the summit of the shaft. His Figs. 3 and 4 show

that this groove was carefully polished. His conclusions have failed

to find acceptance in some quarters. It has been asserted that the

rays of the sun, striking upon such a surface, would be reflected in a

dazzling fashion, and that the general effect would have been

unsatisfactory. The Egyptians had no such fear. They made lavish use

of gold in the decoration of their buildings. According to the

inscription which covers the four sides of the pedestal under the

obelisk of Hatasu at Karnak, the pyramidion was covered "with pure

gold taken from the chiefs of the nations," which seems to imply

either a cap of gilded copper, like that of the obelisk at Heliopolis,

or a golden sphere upon the very apex. An object of this latter kind

is figured in some of the bas-reliefs at Sakkarah. Besides this there

is no doubt that the obelisk in question was gilded from head to foot.

"We remark, in the first place, that the beds of the hieroglyphs were

carefully polished; secondly, that the four faces of the obelisk

itself were left comparatively rough, from which we should conclude

that the latter alone received this costly embellishment, the

hieroglyphs preserving the natural colour of the granite."[158]

[156] _Precis sur les Pyramidions de Bronze doré Employés par

les Anciens Égyptiens comme couronnement de quelques-uns de

leurs Obélisques_, etc. J. J. HITTORF, 8vo, 1836.

[157] ABD-AL-LATIF, _Relation de l'Égypte_; French translation

by Silvestre de Sacy, published in 4to, in 1810, p. 181.--ED.

[158] MARIETTE, _Itinéraire de la Haute-Égypte_, third edition,

p. 142.

[Illustration: FIG. 167.--The obelisk of Ousourtesen. _Description_,

v. 26.]

[Illustration: FIG. 168.--The obelisk in the Place de la Concorde,

restored to its original base. From Prisse.]

In that transplantation of which the Ptolemies first set the example,

the obelisk at Paris was deprived of its original pedestal, as we have

seen; it was erected in an open space of such extent that its

dimensions seem almost insignificant; it was placed upon a pedestal

which, neither in dimensions nor design, has anything Egyptian about

it: and finally it was deprived of its metal finial. It can therefore

give but little idea of the effect which the obelisks produced while

they still remained in the places for which they were designed. The

artistic instinct of Théophile Gautier was quite alive to this fact

when he penned his fanciful but charming lines on the _Nostalgie

d'Obélisque_.

A curious fact has been ascertained in connection with the obelisks of

Luxor. Their faces present a slight convexity, the total protuberance

at the base being rather more than an inch and three-tenths. It is

probable that the same arrangement would be found in other obelisks if

they were carefully examined. Its explanation is easy. If the surfaces

had been absolute planes they would have been made to appear concave

by the sharpness of the corners. It was necessary, therefore, to give

them a gentle entasis which should gradually diminish towards the

summit, completely disappearing by the time the pyramidion was

reached.[159]

[159] _Description_, _Antiquités_, vol. ii. p. 369.--CHARLES

BLANC, _Voyage dans la Haute-Égypte_, p. 150.

The obelisk at Beggig, in the Fayoum, offers a singular variant upon

the type which we have described. It was formerly a monolith about 43

feet high; it is now overthrown and broken into two pieces. It bears

the ovals of Ousourtesen I., and would seem, therefore, to be

contemporary with the obelisk at Heliopolis.[160] Its peculiarity

consists in its shape. It is a rectangular oblong, instead of a

square, on plan. Two of its sides are 6 feet 9 inches wide, and the

other two about 4 feet. It has no pyramidion. The summit is rounded

from front to back, forming a ridge, and the upper part of its

principal faces are filled with sculptures in low relief (Fig 170).

All this makes it resemble a gigantic stele rather than an obelisk

(Fig. 169).

[160] For an interesting description of the present state and

curious situation of this obelisk, see _The Land of Khemi_, by

LAURENCE OLIPHANT, pp. 98-100, (Blackwood. 1882).--ED.

[Illustration: FIG. 169.--The obelisk of Beggig. From the elevation of

Lepsius.[161]]

[161] _Denkmæler_, part ii. pl. 119.

[Illustration: FIG. 170.--Upper part of the obelisk at Beggig. From

the elevation of Lepsius.]

Whatever may have been the origin of this form it never became popular

in Egypt. In Nubia alone do we find the type repeated, and that only

in the debased periods of art. On the other hand, the obelisks proper

seem to have been made in truly astonishing numbers in the time of the

Middle and New Empires. Egypt has supplied Rome, Constantinople,

Paris, London, and even New York with these monoliths, and yet she

still possesses many at home. Of these several are still standing and

in good preservation, others are broken and buried beneath the ruins

of the temples which they adorned. At Karnak alone the sites of some

ten or twelve have been found. Some of these are still standing, some

are lying on the ground, while of others nothing is left but the

pedestals. At the beginning of the century the French visitors to the

ruins of San, the ancient Tanis, found the fragments of nine different

obelisks.[162]

[162] _Description_, _Antiquités_, ch. 23.--M. EDOUARD NAVILLE

has recently (June 16, 1882) published in the _Journal de

Genève_ an account of a visit to these ruins, during which he

counted the fragments of no less than fourteen obelisks, some of

them of extraordinary size.--ED.

§ 11. _The Profession of Architect._

It may seem to some of our readers that we have spent too much time

and labour on our analysis of Egyptian architecture. Our excuse lies

in the fact that architecture was the chief of the arts in Egypt. We

know nothing of her painters. The pictures in the Theban tombs often

display great taste and skill, but they seem to have been the work of

decorators rather than of painters in the higher sense of the word.

Sculptors appear, now and then, to have been held in higher

consideration. The names of one or two have come down to us, and we

are told how dear they were to the kings who employed them.[163] But

the only artists who had a high and well defined social position in

ancient Egypt, a country where ranks were as distinctly marked as in

China, were the architects or engineers, for they deserve either name.

Their names have been preserved to us in hundreds upon their

elaborate tombs and inscribed steles.

[163] The sculptor who made the two famous colossi of Amenophis

III. had the same name as his master, Amenhotep. (BRUGSCH,

_History_, 1st edition, vol. i. pp. 425-6). Iritesen, who worked

for Menthouthotep II. in the time of the first Theban Empire,

was a worker in stone, gold, silver, ivory, and ebony. He held a

place, he tells us, at the bottom of the king's heart, and was

his joy from morning till night. (MASPERO, _la Stèle_ C. 14 _du

Louvre_, in the _Transactions of the Society of Biblical

Archæology_, vol. v. part ii. 1877.)

We might, then, amuse ourselves by making out a long list of Egyptian

builders, a list which would extend over several thousands of years,

from Nefer, of Boulak (Fig. 171),[164] who may have built one of the

Pyramids, to the days of the Ptolemies or of the Roman emperors. In

the glyptothek at Munich there is a beautiful sepulchral statue of

Bakenkhonsou, who was chief prophet of Amen and principal architect of

Thebes, in the time of Seti I. and Rameses II. From certain phrases in

the inscription, Devéria believes that Bakenkhonsou built the temple

of Gournah.[165] In his epitaph he boasts of the great offices which

he had filled and of the favour which had been shown to him by his

sovereign. Every Egyptian museum contains some statue and inscription

of the same kind. Brugsch has proved that under the Memphite dynasties

the architects to the king were sometimes recruited among the princes

of the blood royal, and the texts upon their tombs show that they all,

or nearly all, married daughters or grand-daughters of Pharaoh, and

that such a marriage was not looked upon as _mesalliance_.[166]

[164] See _Notice des Principaux Monuments exposés dans le Musée

de Boulak_, 1876, No. 458.

[165] DEVÉRIA, _Bakenkhonsou_ (_Revue Archéologique_, new

series, vi. p. 101).

[166] BRUGSCH, _History of Egypt_ (English edition), vol. i. p.

47. Ti, whose splendid tomb has been so often mentioned, was

"First Commissioner of Works" for the whole of Egypt, as well as

"Secretary of State" to Pharaoh.

[Illustration: FIG. 171.--Limestone statue of the architect Nefer, in

the Boulak Museum. Drawn by Bourgoin.]

Similar evidence is forthcoming in connection with the first Theban

Empire, but it was chiefly under the three great dynasties that the

post of architect to Pharaoh became one of great responsibility, and

carried with it great influence and authority.

For the building and keeping in repair of the sumptuous monuments

then erected a great system of administration must have been devised,

and Thebes, like modern London, must have had its

"district-surveyors."[167]

[167] We have here ventured to take a slight liberty with M.

Perrot's local tints.--ED. PAUL PIERRET ("_Stèle de Suti et de

Har, architectes de Thèbes_," in the _Recueil de Travaux_, vol.

i. p. 70), says, "This is said by him who has charge of the

works of Amen in Southern Ap." Suti-Har says in his turn: "I

have the direction of the west, he of the east. We are the

directors of the great monuments in Ap, in the centre of Thebes,

the city of Amen."

So far as we can tell there was a chief architect, or superintendent

general of buildings, for the whole kingdom; his title was _Overseer

of the buildings of Upper and Lower Egypt_.[168] For how many scribes

and draughtsmen must the offices of Bakenkhonsou or of Semnat, the

favourite architect of the great regent Hatasu, have found

employment?[169]

[168] PIERRET, _Dictionnaire d'Archéologie Égyptienne_, p. 59.

[169] See BRUGSCH, _History of Egypt_, 1st edition, vol. i. p.

302.

Who would not like to know the course of study by which the ancient

Egyptian builders prepared themselves for the great public enterprises

which were always going on in their country? We may admit that the

methods employed by their engineers were much more primitive than it

has been the fashion to suppose, we may prove that their structures

were far from possessing the accuracy of plan that distinguishes ours,

but yet we cannot deny that those who transported and raised the

obelisks and colossal statues, and those who constructed the hypostyle

hall of Karnak, or even the pyramids of Gizeh, must have learnt their

trade. How and where they learnt it we do not know. It is probable

that they learnt it by practice under a master. Theory cannot have

held any great part in their teaching. Their system must have been

composed of a collection of processes and receipts which grew in

number as the centuries passed away. There is nothing in the texts to

show that these receipts were the property of any close corporation,

but heredity is sure to have played an important part and to have made

them, to some extent, the property of a class. Architects were

generally the sons of architects. Brugsch has given us one

genealogical table in which the profession descended from father to

son for twenty-two generations. By help of the inscriptions he traced

the family in question from the time of Seti I. to that of Darius the

son of Hystaspes. But even then he may not have tracked the stream to

its source. The rule and compass may have entered that family long

before the time of Seti; their use may also have continued long after

the Persian kings had been driven from Egypt.

[Illustration]

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