THE TOMB OF TIY AND AKHNATON[4]
In January, 1907, the excavations in the Valley of the Tombs of the
Kings at Thebes, which were being conducted each year under my
supervision at the expense of Mr. Davis, brought to light the entrance
of a tomb which, by its style, appeared to be that of a royal personage
of the XVIIIth Dynasty. The Valley lies behind the cliffs which form the
western boundary of Thebes, and is approached by a long winding road
running between the rocks and rugged hills of the Lybian desert. Here
the Pharaohs of the XVIIIth to the XXth Dynasties were buried in large
sepulchres cut into the sides of the hills; and the excavations had for
their object the removal of the _débris_ which had collected at the foot
of these hills, in order that the tombs hidden beneath might be
revealed. About sixty tombs are now open, some of which were already
known to Greek and Roman travellers; and there are palpably not more
than two or three still to be discovered.
When this new tomb-entrance was uncovered I was at once notified, and
proceeded with all despatch to the Valley. It was not long before we
were able to enter the tomb. A rough stairway led down into the
hillside, bringing us to the mouth of a passage which was entirely
blocked by a wall of built stones. On removing this wall we found
ourselves in a small passage, descending at a sharp incline to a chamber
which could be seen a few yards further on. Instead of this passage
being free from _débris_, however, as we had expected on finding the
entrance-wall intact, it was partly filled with fallen stones which
seemed to be the ruins of an earlier entrance-wall. On top of this heap
of stones lay one of the sides of a large funeral shrine, almost
entirely blocking the passage. This shrine, as we later saw, was in the
form of a great box-like sarcophagus, made of cedar-wood covered with
gold, and it had been intended as an outer covering for the coffin of
the deceased person. It was, however, not put together: three sides of
it were leaning against the walls of the burial-chamber, and the fourth
was here in the passage. Either it was never built up, or else it was in
process of being taken out of the tomb again when the work was
abandoned.
To pass this portion of the shrine which lay in the passage without
doing it damage was no easy matter. We could not venture to move it, as
the wood was rotten; and indeed, for over a year it remained in its
original position. We therefore made a bridge of planks within a few
inches of the low roof, and on this we wriggled ourselves across into
the unencumbered passage beyond. In the funeral-chamber, besides the
other portions of the shrine, we found at one corner a splendid coffin,
in the usual form of a recumbent figure, inlaid in a dazzling manner
with rare stones and coloured glass. The coffin had originally lain upon
a wooden bier, in the form of a lion-legged couch; but this had
collapsed and the mummy had fallen to the ground, the lid of the coffin
being partly
[Illustration: The entrance of the Tomb of Queen Tiy, with a native
policeman guarding it. The large Tomb of Rameses X. is to the left]
thrown off by the fall, thus exposing the head and feet of the body,
from which the bandages had decayed and fallen off. In the powerful
glare of the electric light which we carried, the bare skull, with a
golden vulture upon it, could be seen protruding from the remains of the
linen bandages and from the sheets of flexible gold-foil in which, as we
afterwards found, the whole body was wrapped. The inscription on the
coffin, the letters of which were made of rare stones, gave the titles
of Akhnaton, “the beautiful child of the Sun”; but turning to the shrine
we found other inscriptions stating that King Akhnaton had made it for
his mother, Queen Tiy, and thus no immediate reply could be given to
those at the mouth of the tomb who called to us to know which of the
Pharaohs of Egypt had been found.
In a recess in the wall above the body there stood four alabaster
“canopy” jars, each with a lid exquisitely sculptured in the form of a
human head. In another corner there was a box containing many little
toilet vases and utensils of porcelain. A few alabaster vases and other
objects were lying in various parts of the chamber arranged in some sort
of rough order.
Nothing, of course, could yet be touched, and for several days, during
the lengthy process of photographing and recording the contents of the
tomb in situ, no further information could be obtained as to the
identity of the owner of the tomb. The shrine was certainly made for
Queen Tiy, and so too were the toilet utensils, judging by an
inscription upon one of them which gave the names of Tiy and her
husband, King Amenophis III., the parents of Akhnaton. It was,
therefore, not a surprise when a passing doctor declared the much broken
bones to be those of a woman--that is to say, those of Queen Tiy. For
reasons which will presently become apparent, it had been difficult to
believe that Akhnaton could have been buried in this Valley, and one was
very ready to suppose that the coffin bearing his name had but been
given by him to his mother.
The important discovery was now announced, and caused considerable
interest and excitement. At the end of the winter the various
archæologists departed to their several countries, and it fell to me to
despatch the antiquities to the Cairo Museums, and to send the bones,
soaked in wax to prevent their breakage, to Dr. Elliot Smith, to be
examined by that eminent authority. It may be imagined that my surprise
was considerable when I received a letter from him reading--“Are you
sure that the bones you sent me are those which were found in the tomb?
Instead of the bones of an old woman, you have sent me those of a young
man. Surely there is some mistake.”
There was, however, no mistake. Dr. Elliot Smith later informed me that
the bones were those of a young man of about thirty years of age, and at
first this description did not seem to tally with that of Akhnaton, who
was always thought to have been a man of middle age. But there is now no
possibility of doubt that the coffin and mummy were those of this
extraordinary Pharaoh, although the tomb and funeral furniture belonged
to Queen Tiy. Dr. Elliot Smith’s decision was, of course, somewhat
disconcerting to those who had written of the mortal remains of the
great Queen; but it is difficult to speak of Tiy without also referring
to her famous son Akhnaton, and in these articles he had received full
mention.
About the year B.C. 1500 the throne of Egypt fell to the young brother
of Queen Hatshepsut, Thutmosis III., and under his vigorous rule the
country rose to a height of power never again equalled. Amenophis II.
succeeded to an empire which extended from the Sudan to the Euphrates
and to the Greek Islands; and when he died he left these great
possessions almost intact to his son, Thutmosis IV., the grandfather of
Akhnaton. It is important to notice the chronology of this period. The
mummy of Thutmosis IV. has been shown by Dr. Elliot Smith to be that of
a man of not more than twenty-six years of age; but we know that his son
Amenophis III. was old enough to hunt lions at about the time of his
father’s death, and that he was already married to Queen Tiy a year
later. Thus one must suppose that Thutmosis IV. was a father at the age
of thirteen or fourteen, and that Amenophis III. was married to Tiy at
about the same age. The wife of Thutmosis IV. was probably a Syrian
princess, and it must have been during her regency that Amenophis III.
married Tiy, who was not of royal blood. Amenophis and Tiy introduced
into Egypt the luxuries of Asia; and during their brilliant reign the
Nile Valley was more open to Syrian influence than it had ever been
before. The language of Babylon was perhaps the Court tongue, and the
correspondence was written in cuneiform instead of in the hieratic
script of Egypt. Amenophis III., as has been said, was probably partly
Asiatic; and there is, perhaps, some reason to suppose that Yuaa, the
father of Queen Tiy, was also a Syrian. One has, therefore, to picture
the Egyptian Court at this time as being saturated with foreign ideas,
which clashed with those of the orthodox Egyptians.
Queen Tiy bore several children to the King; but it was not until they
had reigned over twenty years that a son and heir was born, whom they
named Amenophis, that being changed later to Akhnaton. It is probable
that he first saw the light in the royal palace at Thebes, which was
situated on the edge of the desert at the foot of the western hills. It
was an extensive and roomy structure lightly built and gaily decorated.
The ceiling and pavements of its halls were fantastically painted with
scenes of animal life: wild cattle ran through reedy swamps beneath
one’s feet, and many-coloured fish swam in the water; while overhead
flights of pigeons, white against a blue sky, passed across the hall,
and the wild duck hastened towards the open casements. Through curtained
doorways one might obtain glimpses of a garden planted with flowers
foreign to Egypt; and on the east of the palace the King had made a
great pleasure-lake for the Queen, surrounded by the trees of Asia.
Here, floating in her golden barge, which was named _Aton-gleams_, the
Queen might look westwards over the tree-tops to the splendid Theban
hills towering above the palace, and eastwards to the green valley of
the Nile and the three great limestone hills beyond. Amenophis III. has
been rightly called the “Magnificent,” and one may well believe that his
son Akhnaton was born to the sound of music and to the clink of golden
wine-cups. Fragments of countless thousands of wine-jars and blue
fayence drinking vessels have been found in the ruins of the palace; and
contemporary objects and paintings show us some of the exquisitely
wrought bowls of gold and silver which must have graced the royal
tables, and the charming toilet utensils which were to be found in the
sleeping apartments.
While the luxurious Court rejoiced at the birth of this Egypto-Asiatic
prince, one feels that the ancient priesthood of Amon-Ra must have stood
aloof, and must have looked askance at the baby who was destined one day
to be their master. This priesthood was perhaps the proudest and most
conservative community which conservative Egypt ever produced. It
demanded implicit obedience to its stiff and ancient conventions, and it
refused to recognise the growing tendency towards religious speculation.
One of the great gods of Syria was Aton, the god of the sun; and his
recognition at the Theban Court was a source of constant irritation to
the ministers of Amon-Ra.
Probably they would have taken stronger measures to resist this foreign
god had it not been for the fact that Atum of Heliopolis, an ancient god
of Egypt, was on the one hand closely akin to Ra, the associated deity
with Amon, and on the other hand to Aton of Syria. Thus Aton might be
regarded merely as another name for Ra or Amon-Ra; but the danger to the
old _régime_ lay in the fact that with the worship of Aton there went a
certain amount of free-thought. The sun and its warm rays were the
heritage of all mankind; and the speculative mind of the Asiatic, always
in advance of the less imaginative Egyptian, had not failed to attach to
the Aton-worship a number of semi-philosophical teachings far broader
than the strict doctrines of Amon-Ra could tolerate.
There is much reason to suppose that Queen Tiy was the prime factor in
the new movement. It may, perhaps, be worth noting that her father was a
priest of the Egyptian god Min, who corresponded to the North Syrian
Aton in his capacity as a god of vegetation; and she may have imbibed
something of the broader doctrines from him. It is the barge upon _her_
pleasure-lake which is called _Aton-gleams_, and it is _her_ private
artist who is responsible for one of the first examples of the new style
of art which begins to appear at this period. Egyptian art was bound
down by conventions jealously guarded by the priesthood, and the slight
tendency to break away from these, which now becomes apparent, is
another sign of the broadening of thought under the reign of Amenophis
III. and Tiy.
King Amenophis III. does not seem to have been a man of strong
character, and in the changes which took place at this time he does not
appear to have taken so very large a part. He always showed the most
profound respect for, and devotion to his Queen; and one is inclined to
regard him as a tool in her hands. According to some accounts he reigned
only thirty years, but there are contemporary monuments dated in his
thirty-sixth year, and it seems probable that for the last few years he
was reigning only in name, and that in reality his ministers, under the
regency of Queen Tiy, governed the land. Amenophis III. was perhaps
during his last years insane or stricken with some paralytic disease,
for we read of an Asiatic monarch sending a miracle-working image to
Egypt, apparently for the purpose of attempting to cure him. It must
have been during these six years of absolute power, while Akhnaton was a
boy, that the Queen pushed forward her reforms and encouraged the
breaking down of the old traditions, especially those relating to the
worship of Amon-Ra.
Amenophis III. died in about the forty-ninth year of his age, after a
total reign of thirty-six years; and Akhnaton, who still bore the name
of Amenophis, ascended the throne. One must picture him now as an
enthusiastic boy, filled with the new thought of the age, and burning to
assert the broad doctrines which he had learned from his mother and her
friends, in defiance of the priests of Amon-Ra. He was already married
to a lady named Nefertiti, and certainly before he was sixteen years of
age he was the father of two daughters.
The new Pharaoh’s first move, under the guidance of Tiy, was to proclaim
Aton the only true god, and to name himself high priest of that deity.
He then began to build a temple dedicated to Aton at Karnak; but it must
have been distasteful to observe how overshadowed and dwarfed was this
new temple by the mighty buildings in honour of the older gods which
stood there. Moreover, there must have been very serious opposition to
the new religion in Thebes, where Amon had ruled for so many centuries
unchallenged. In whatever direction he looked he was confronted with
some evidence of the worship of Amon-Ra: he might proclaim Aton to be
the only god, but Amon and a hundred other deities stared down at him
from every temple wall. He and his advisers, therefore, decided to
abandon Thebes altogether and to found a new capital elsewhere.
Akhnaton selected a site for the new city on the west bank of the river,
at a point now named El Amarna, about 160 miles above Cairo. Here the
hills recede from the river, forming a bay about three miles deep and
five miles long; and in this bay the young Pharaoh decided to build his
capital, which was named “Horizon of Aton.” With feverish speed the new
buildings were erected. A palace even more beautiful than that of his
parents at Thebes was prepared for him; a splendid temple dedicated to
Aton was set up amidst a garden of rare trees and brilliant flowers;
villas for his nobles were erected, and streets were laid out. Queen
Tiy, who seems to have continued to live at Thebes, often came down to
El Amarna to visit her son; but it seems to have been at his own wish
rather than at her advice that he now took the important step which set
the seal of his religion upon his life.
Around the bay of El Amarna, on the cliffs which shut it off so
securely, the King caused landmarks to be made at intervals, and on
these he inscribed an oath which some have interpreted to mean that he
would never again leave his new city. He would remain, like the Pope in
the Vatican, for the rest of his days within the limits of this bay;
and, rather than be distracted by the cares of state and the worries of
empire, he would shut himself up with his god and would devote his life
to his religion. He was but a youth still, and, to his inexperienced
mind, this oath seemed nothing; nor in his brief life does it seem that
he broke it, though at times he must have longed to visit his domains.
The religion which this boy, who now called himself Akhnaton, “The Glory
of Aton,” taught was by no means the simple worship of the sun. It was,
without question, the most enlightened religion which the world at that
time had ever known. The young priest-king called upon mankind to
worship the unknown power, which is behind the sun, that power of which
the brilliant sun was the visible symbol, and which might be discerned
in the fertilising warmth of the sun’s rays. Aton was originally the
actual sun’s disk; but Akhnaton called his god “Heat which is in Aton,”
and thus drew the eyes of his followers towards a Force far more
intangible and distant than the dazzling orb to which they bowed down.
Akhnaton’s god was the energy which created the sun, the something which
penetrated to this earth in the sun’s heat and caused the vegetation to
grow.
Amon-Ra and the gods of Egypt were for the most part but deified
mortals, endued with monstrous, though limited, power, and still having
around them tradition of exaggerated human deeds. Others had their
origin in the natural phenomena--the wind, the Nile, the sky, and so on.
All were terrific, revengeful, and able to be moved by human emotions.
But Akhnaton’s god was the intangible and yet ever-present Father of
mankind, made manifest in sunshine. The youthful High Priest called upon
his followers to search for their god not in the confusion of battle or
behind the smoke of human sacrifices, but amidst the flowers and trees,
amidst the wild duck and the fishes. He preached an enlightened
nature-study; he was perhaps the first apostle of the Simple Life. He
strove to break down conventional religion, and ceaselessly urged his
people to worship in Truth, simply, without excess of ceremonial. While
the elder gods had been manifest in natural convulsions and in the more
awful incidents of life, Akhnaton’s kindly god could be seen in the
chick which broke out of its egg, in the wind which filled the sails of
the ships, in the fish which leapt from the water. Aton was the joy
which caused the young sheep “to dance upon their feet,” and the birds
to “flutter in their marshes.” He was the god of the simple pleasures
of life, and Truth was the watchword of his followers.
It may be understood how the boy longed for truth in all things when one
remembers the thousand exaggerated conventions of Egyptian life at this
time. Court etiquette had developed to a degree which rendered life to
the Pharaoh an endless round of unnatural poses of mind and body. In the
preaching of his doctrine of truth and simplicity, Akhnaton did not fail
to call upon his subjects to regard their Pharaoh not as a god but as a
man. It was usual for the Pharaoh to keep aloof from his people:
Akhnaton was to be found in their midst. The Court demanded that their
lord should drive in solitary state through the city: Akhnaton sat in
his chariot with his wife and children, and allowed the artist to
represent him joking with his little daughter, who has mischievously
poked the horses with a stick. In representing the Pharaoh, the artist
was expected to draw him in some conventional attitude of dignity:
Akhnaton insisted upon being shown in all manner of natural
attitudes--now leaning languidly upon a staff, now nursing his children,
and now caressing his wife.
As has been said, one of the first artists to break away from the
ancient conventions was in the service of Queen Tiy, and was probably
under her influence. But in the radical change in the art which took
place, Akhnaton is definitely stated to have been the leader, and the
new school acknowledge that they were taught by the King. The new art is
extraordinary, and it must be owned that its merit lies sometimes in its
originality rather than in its beauty. An attempt is made to do away
with the prescribed attitudes and
[Illustration: Bust of Akhnaton found at Tell el Amarna and now in
Berlin]
the strict proportions, and to portray any one individual with his
natural defects. Some of the sculptured heads, however, which have come
down to us, and notably the four “canopic” heads found in this tomb, are
of wonderful beauty, and have no trace of traditional mannerisms, though
they are highly idealised. The King’s desire for light-heartedness led
him to encourage the use of bright colours and gay decorations in the
palace. Some of the ceiling and pavement paintings are of great beauty,
while the walls and pillars inlaid with coloured stones must have given
a brilliancy to the halls unequalled in Egypt at any previous time.
The group of nobles who formed the King’s Court had all sacrificed much
in coming to the new capital. Their estates around Thebes had been left,
their houses abandoned, and the tombs which were in process of being
made for them in the Theban hills had been rendered useless. The King,
therefore, showered favours upon them, and at his expense built their
houses and constructed sepulchres for them. It is on the walls of these
tombs that one obtains the main portion of one’s information regarding
the teachings of this wonderful youth, who was now growing into manhood.
Here are inscribed those beautiful hymns to Aton which rank so high in
ancient literature. It is unfortunate that space does not allow of more
than a few extracts from the hymns to be quoted here; but something of
their beauty may be realised from these.
“Thy dawning is beautiful in the horizon of heaven,
O living Aton, Beginning of life!
When thou risest in the eastern horizon of heaven
Thou fillest every land with thy beauty.”
“Though thou art afar, thy rays are on earth;
Though thou art on high, thy footprints are the day.”
“When thou settest in the western horizon of heaven
The world is in darkness like the dead.
Men sleep in their chambers, their heads are wrapt up.
Every lion cometh forth from his den.
The serpents, they sting.
Darkness reigns, the world is in silence:
He that made them has gone to rest in his horizon.”
“Bright is the earth when thou risest in the horizon ...
When thou sendest forth thy rays
The two lands of Egypt are in daily festivity,
Awake and standing upon their feet,
For thou hast raised them up.
Their limbs bathed, they take their clothing,
Their arms uplifted in adoration to thy dawning.
Then in all the world they do their work.”
“All cattle rest upon their herbage, all trees and plants flourish.
The birds flutter in their marshes, their wings uplifted
in adoration to thee.
All the sheep dance upon their feet,
All winged things fly; they live when thou hast shone upon them.”
“The barques sail up-stream and down-stream alike, ...
The fish in the river leap up before thee,
And thy rays are in the midst of the great sea.”
“Thou art he who createst the man-child in woman ...
Who giveth life to the son in the body of his mother;
Who soothest him that he may not weep,
A nurse even in the womb.”
“When the chick crieth in the egg-shell,
Thou givest him breath therein to preserve him alive ...
He cometh forth from the egg, to chirp with all his might.
He runneth about upon his two feet.”
“How manifold are thy works!
They are hidden from before us.”[5]
There are several verses of this hymn, which are almost identical with
Psalm civ., and those who study it closely will be forced to one of two
conclusions: either that Psalm civ. is derived from this hymn of the
young Pharaoh, or that both are derived from some early Syrian hymn to
the sun. Akhnaton may have only adapted this early psalm to local
conditions; though, on the other hand, a man capable of bringing to pass
so great a religious revolution in Egypt may well be credited with the
authorship of this splendid song. There is no evidence to show that it
was written before the King had reached manhood.
Queen Tiy probably did not now take any further part in a movement which
had got so far out of her hands. She was now nearly sixty years old, and
this, to one who had been a mother so early in life, was a considerable
age. It seems that she sometimes paid visits to her son at El Amarna,
but her interest lay in Thebes, where she had once held so brilliant a
Court. When at last she died, therefore, it is not surprising to find
that she was buried in the Valley of the Tombs of the Kings. The tomb
which has been described above is most probably her original sepulchre,
and here her body was placed in the golden shrine made for her by
Akhnaton, surrounded by the usual funeral furniture. She thus lay no
more than a stone’s throw from her parents, whose tomb was described in
the last chapter, and was of very similar size and shape.
After her death, although preaching this gentle creed of love and simple
truth, Akhnaton waged a bitter and stern war against the priesthoods of
the old gods. It may be that the priesthood of Amon had again attempted
to overthrow the new doctrines, or had in some manner called down the
particular wrath of the Pharaoh. He issued an order that the name of
Amon was to be erased and obliterated wherever it was found, and his
agents proceeded to hack it out on all the temple walls. The names also
of other gods were erased; and it is noticeable in this tomb that the
word _mut_, meaning “mother,” was carefully spelt in hieroglyphs which
would have no similarity to those used in the word _Mut_, the
goddess-consort of Amon. The name of Amenophis III., his own father, did
not escape the King’s wrath, and the first syllables were everywhere
erased.
As the years went by Akhnaton seems to have given himself more and more
completely to his new religion. He had now so trained one of his nobles,
named Merira, in the teachings of Aton that he was able to hand over to
him the high priesthood of that god, and to turn his attention to the
many other duties which he had imposed upon himself. In rewarding
Merira, the King is related to have said, “Hang gold at his neck before
and behind, and gold on his legs, because of his hearing the teaching of
Pharaoh concerning every saying in these beautiful places.” Another
official whom Akhnaton greatly advanced says: “My lord advanced me
because I have carried out his teaching, and I hear his word without
ceasing.” The King’s doctrines were thus beginning to take hold; but one
feels, nevertheless, that the nobles followed the King rather for the
sake of their material gains than for the spiritual comforts of the
Aton-worship. There is reason to suppose that at least one of these
nobles was degraded and banished from the city.
But while Akhnaton was preaching peace and goodwill amidst the flowers
of the temple of Aton, his generals in Asia Minor were vainly struggling
to hold together the great empire created by Thutmosis III. Akhnaton had
caused a temple of Aton to be erected at one point in Syria at least,
but in other respects he took little or no interest in the welfare of
his foreign dominions. War was not tolerated in his doctrine: it was a
sin to take away life which the good Father had given. One pictures the
hardened soldiers of the empire striving desperately to hold the nations
of Asia faithful to the Pharaoh whom they never saw. The small garrisons
were scattered far and wide over Syria, and constantly they sent
messengers to the Pharaoh asking at least for some sign that he held
them in mind.
There is no more pathetic page of ancient history than that which tells
of the fall of the Egyptian Empire. The Amorites, advancing along the
sea-coast, took city after city from the Egyptians almost without a
struggle. The chiefs of Tunip wrote an appeal for help to the King: “To
the King of Egypt, my lord,--The inhabitants of Tunip, thy servant.” The
plight of the city is described and reinforcements are asked for. “And
now,” it continues, “Tunip thy city weeps, and her tears are flowing,
and there is no help for us. For twenty years we have been sending to
our lord the King, the King of Egypt, but there has not come a word to
us, no, not one.” The messengers of the beleaguered city must have found
the King absorbed in his religion, and must have seen only priests of
the sun where they had hoped to find the soldiers of former days. The
Egyptian governor of Jerusalem, attacked by Aramæans, writes to the
Pharaoh, saying: “Let the King take care of his land, and ... let him
send troops.... For if no troops come in this year, the whole territory
of my lord the King will perish.” To this letter is added a note to the
King’s secretary, which reads “Bring these words plainly before my lord
the King: the whole land of my lord the King is going to ruin.”
So city after city fell, and the empire, won at such cost was gradually
lost to the Egyptians. It is probable that Akhnaton had not realised how
serious was the situation in Asia Minor. A few of the chieftains who
were not actually in arms against him had written to him every now and
then assuring him that all was well in his dominions; and, strange to
relate, the tribute of many of the cities had been regularly paid. The
Asiatic princes, in fact, had completely fooled the Pharaoh, and had led
him to believe that the nations were loyal while they themselves
prepared for rebellion. Akhnaton, hating violence, had been only too
ready to believe that the despatches from Tunip and elsewhere were
unjustifiably pessimistic. He had hoped to bind together the many
countries under his rule, by giving them a single religion. He had hoped
that when Aton should be worshipped in all parts of his empire, and when
his simple doctrines of love, truth, and peace should be preached from
every temple throughout the length and breadth of his dominions, then
war would cease and a unity of faith would hold the lands in harmony one
with the other.
When, therefore, the tribute suddenly ceased, and the few refugees came
staggering home to tell of the perfidy of the Asiatic princes and the
fall of the empire, Akhnaton seems to have received his death-blow. He
was now not more than thirty years of age or so; and though his
portraits show that his face was already lined with care, and that his
body was thinner than it should have been, he seems to have had plenty
of reserve strength. He was the father of several daughters, but his
queen had borne him no son to succeed him; and thus he must have felt
that his religion could not outlive him. With his empire lost, with
Thebes his enemy, and with his treasury well-nigh empty, one feels that
Akhnaton must have sunk to the very depths of despondency. His religious
revolution had ruined Egypt, and had failed: did he, one wonders, find
consolation in the sunshine and amidst the flowers?
His death followed speedily; and, resting in the splendid coffin in
which we found him, he was laid in the tomb prepared for him in the
hills behind his new capital. The throne fell to the husband of one of
his daughters, Smenkhkara, who, after an ephemeral reign, gave place to
another of the sons-in-law of Akhnaton, named Tutankhaton. This king was
speedily persuaded to change his name to Tutankhamon, to abandon the
worship of Aton, and to return to Thebes. Akhnaton’s city fell into
ruins, and soon the temples and palaces had become the haunt of jackals
and the home of owls. The nobles returned with their new king to Thebes,
and not one remained faithful to those “teachings” to which they had
once pretended to be such earnest listeners.
The fact that the body in the new tomb was that of Akhnaton, and not of
Queen Tiy, gives a new reading to the history of the burial. When
Tutankhamon returned to Thebes, Akhnaton’s memory was still, it appears,
regarded with reverence, and it seems that there was no question of
leaving his body in the neighbourhood of his deserted palace, where,
until the discovery of this tomb, Egyptologists had expected to find it.
It was carried to Thebes, together with some of the funeral furniture,
and was placed in the tomb of Queen Tiy, which had been reopened for the
purpose. But after some years had passed and the priesthood of Amon-Ra
had again asserted itself, Akhnaton began to be regarded as a heretic
and as the cause of the loss of Egypt’s Asiatic dominions. These
sentiments were vigorously encouraged by the priesthood, and soon
Akhnaton came to be spoken of as “that criminal,” and his name was
obliterated from his monuments. It was now felt that his body could no
longer lie in state together with that of Queen Tiy in the Valley of the
Tombs of the Kings. The sepulchre was therefore opened once more, and
the name of Akhnaton was everywhere erased from the inscriptions. The
tomb, polluted by the presence of the heretic, was no longer fit for
Tiy, and the body of the Queen was therefore carried elsewhere, perhaps
to the tomb of her husband Amenophis III. The shrine in which her mummy
had lain was pulled to pieces and an attempt was made to carry it out of
the tomb; but this arduous task was presently abandoned, and one portion
of the shrine was left in the passage, where we found it. The body of
Akhnaton, his name erased, was now the sole occupant of the tomb. The
entrance was blocked with stones, and sealed with the seal of
Tutankhamon, a fragment of which was found; and it was in this condition
that it was discovered in 1907.
The bones of this extraordinary Pharaoh are in the Cairo Museum, but are
not exhibited. The visitor to that Museum, however, may now see the
“canopic” jars, the alabaster vases, the gold vulture, the gold
necklace, the sheets of gold in which the body was wrapped, the toilet
utensils, and parts of the shrine, all of which we found in the
burial-chamber. The magnificent coffin has now been restored, and is
also on view. Below the feet is inscribed a short prayer, which must
have been composed by Akhnaton, and in which he addresses the god for
whom he suffered so much. It reads: “I shall breathe the sweet breath
which comes forth from Thy mouth. I shall behold Thy beauty every day.
It is my desire that I may hear Thy sweet voice, even the North wind,
that my limbs may rejuvenate with life through love of Thee. Give me Thy
hands, holding Thy spirit, that I may receive it, and may live by it.
Call Thou upon my name throughout eternity, and it shall never fail.”
They are the most pathetic lines in all Egyptian history.