CHAPTER XV.

RAMESES THE GREAT.

The central figure of Egyptian history has always been, probably always

will be, Rameses II. He holds this place partly by right, partly by

accident. He was born to greatness; he achieved greatness; and he had

borrowed greatness thrust upon him. It was his singular destiny not only

to be made a posthumous usurper of glory, but to be forgotten by his own

name and remembered in a variety of aliases. As Sesoosis, as Osymandias,

as Sesostris, he became credited in course of time with all the deeds of

all the heroes of the new empire, beginning with Thothmes III, who

preceded him by three hundred years, and ending with Sheshonk, the

captor of Jerusalem, who lived four centuries after him. Modern science,

however, has repaired this injustice; and, while disclosing the

long-lost names of a brilliant succession of sovereigns, has enabled us

to ascribe to each the honors which are his due. We know now that some

of these were greater conquerors than Rameses II. We suspect that some

were better rulers. Yet the popular hero keeps his ground. What he has

lost by interpretation on the one hand, he has gained by interpretation

on the other; and the _beau sabreur_ of the “Third Sallier Papyrus”

remains to this day the representative Pharaoh of a line of monarchs

whose history covers a space of fifty centuries, and whose frontiers

reached at one time from Mesopotamia to the ends of the Soudan.

The interest that one takes in Rameses II begins at Memphis and goes on

increasing all the way up the river. It is a purely living, a purely

personal interest; such as one feels in Athens for Pericles, or in

Florence for Lorenzo the Magnificent. Other Pharaohs but languidly

affect the imagination. Thothmes and Amenhotep are to us as Darius or

Artaxerxes--shadows that come and go in the distance. But with the

second Rameses we are on terms of respectful intimacy. We seem to know

the man--to feel his presence--to hear his name in the air. His features

are as familiar to us as those of Henry VIII or Louis XIV. His

cartouches meet us at every turn. Even to those who do not read the

hieroglyphic character, those well-known signs convey by sheer force of

association the name and style of Rameses, beloved of Amen.

[Illustration: CARTOUCHES OF RAMESES THE GREAT.]

This being so, the traveler is ill-equipped who goes through Egypt

without something more than a mere guide-book knowledge of Rameses II.

He is, as it were, content to read the argument and miss the poem. In

the desolation of Memphis, in the shattered splendor of Thebes, he sees

only the ordinary pathos of ordinary ruins. As for Abou Simbel, the most

stupendous historical record ever transmitted from the past to the

present, it tells him a but half-intelligible story. Holding to the

merest thread of explanation, he wanders from hall to hall, lacking

altogether that potent charm of foregone association which no Murray can

furnish. Your average Frenchman, straying helplessly through Westminster

Abbey under the conduct of the verger, has about as vague a conception

of the historical import of the things he sees.

What is true of the traveler is equally true of those who take the Nile

vicariously “in connection with Mudie.” If they are to understand any

description of Abou Simbel, they must first know something about Rameses

II. Let us then, while the Philæ lies moored in the shadow of the rock

of Abshek,[74] review, as summarily as may be, the leading facts of this

important reign; such facts, that is to say, as are recorded in

inscriptions, papyri, and other contemporary monuments.

* * * * *

Rameses II[75] was the son of Seti I, the second Pharaoh of the

nineteenth dynasty and of a certain Princess Tuaa, described on the

monuments as “royal wife, royal mother, and heiress and sharer of the

throne.” She is supposed to have been of the ancient royal line of the

preceding dynasty, and so to have had, perhaps, a better right than her

husband to the double crown of Egypt. Through her, at all events,

Rameses II seems to have been in some sense born a king[76] equal in

rank, if not in power, with his father; his rights, moreover, were fully

recognized by Seti, who accorded him royal and divine honors from the

hour of his birth, or, in the language of the Egyptian historians, while

he was “yet in the egg.” The great dedicatory inscription of the Temple

of Osiris at Abydos,[77] relates how his father took the royal child in

his arms, when he was yet little more than an infant, showed him to the

people as their king, and caused him to be invested by the great

officers of the palace with the double crown of the two lands. The same

inscription states that he was a general from his birth, and that as a

nursling he “commanded the body-guard and the brigade of

chariot-fighters”; but these titles must, of course, have been purely

honorary. At twelve years of age he was formally associated with his

father upon the throne, and by the gradual retirement of Seti I from the

cares of active government the co-royalty of Rameses became, in the

course of the next ten or fifteen years, an undivided responsibility. He

was probably about thirty when his father died; and it is from this time

that the years of his reign are dated. In other words, Rameses II, in

his official records, counts only from the period of his sole reign, and

the year of the death of Seti is the “year one” of the monumental

inscriptions of his son and successor. In the second, fourth, and fifth

years of his monarchy, he personally conducted campaigns in Syria, more

than one of the victories then achieved being commemorated on the

rock-cut tablets of Nahr-el-Kelb, near Beyrût; and that he was by this

time recognized as a mighty warrior is shown by the stela of Dakkeh,

which dates from the “third year,” and celebrates him as terrible in

battle--“the bull powerful against Ethiopia, the griffin furious against

the negroes, whose grip has put the mountaineers to flight.” The events

of the campaign of his “fifth year” (undertaken in order to reduce to

obedience the revolted tribes of Syria and Mesopotamia) are immortalized

in the poem of Pentaur.[78] It was on this occasion that he fought his

famous single-handed fight against overwhelming odds, in the sight of

both armies under the walls of Kadesh. Three years later he carried fire

and sword into the land of Canaan, and in his eleventh year, according

to inscriptions yet extant upon the ruined pylons of the Ramesseum at

Thebes, he took, among other strong places on sea and shore, the

fortresses of Ascalon and Jerusalem.

The next important record transports us to the twenty-first year of his

reign. Ten years have now gone by since the fall of Jerusalem, during

which time a fluctuating frontier warfare has probably been carried on,

to the exhaustion of both armies. Khetasira, Prince of Kheta,[79] sues

for peace. An elaborate treaty is thereupon framed, whereby the said

prince and “Rameses, chief of rulers, who fixes his frontiers where he

pleases,” pledge themselves to a strict offensive and defensive

alliance, and to the maintenance of good-will and brotherhood forever.

This treaty, we are told, was engraved for the Khetan prince “upon a

tablet of silver adorned with the likeness of the figure of Sutekh, the

great ruler of Heaven”; while for Rameses Mer-Amen it was graven on a

wall adjoining the great hall at Karnak,[80] where it remains to this

day.

According to the last clause of this curious document, the contracting

parties enter also into an agreement to deliver up to each other the

political fugitives of both countries; providing at the same time for

the personal safety of the offenders. “Whosoever shall be so delivered

up,” says the treaty, “himself, his wives, his children, let him not be

smitten to death; moreover, let him not suffer in his eyes, in his

mouth, in his feet; moreover, let not any crime be set up against

him.”[81] This is the earliest instance of an extradition treaty upon

record; and it is chiefly remarkable as an illustration of the clemency

with which international law was at that time administered.

Finally the convention between the sovereigns is placed under the joint

protection of the gods of both countries: “Sutekh of Kheta, Amen of

Egypt and all the thousand gods; the gods, male and female; the gods of

the hills, of the rivers, of the great sea, of the winds and the clouds,

of the land of Kheta and of the land of Egypt.”

The peace now concluded would seem to have remained unbroken throughout

the rest of the long reign of Rameses II. We hear, at all events, of no

more wars; and we find the king married presently to a Khetan princess,

who, in deference to the gods of her adopted country, takes the

official name of Ma-at-iri-neferu-Ra, or “Contemplating the beauties of

Ra.” The names of two other queens--Nefer-t-ari and Ast-nefert--are also

found upon the monuments.

These three were probably the only legitimate wives of Rameses II,

though he must also have been the lord of an extensive hareem. His

family, at all events, as recorded upon the walls of the Temple at Wady

Sabooah, amounted to no less than one hundred and seventy children, of

whom one hundred and eleven were princes. This may have been a small

family for a great king three thousand years ago. It was but the other

day, comparatively speaking, that Lepsius saw and talked with old Hasan,

Kashef of Derr--the same petty ruler who gave so much trouble to

Belzoni, Burckhardt, and other early travelers--and he, like a patriarch

of old, had in his day been the husband of sixty-four wives and the

father of something like two hundred children.

For forty-six years after the making of the Khetan treaty, Rameses the

Great lived at peace with his neighbors and tributaries. The evening of

his life was long and splendid. It became his passion and his pride to

found new cities, to raise dikes, to dig canals, to build fortresses, to

multiply statues, obelisks, and inscriptions, and to erect the most

gorgeous and costly temples in which man ever worshiped. To the

monuments founded by his predecessors he made additions so magnificent

that they dwarfed the designs they were intended to complete. He caused

artesian wells to be pierced in the stony bed of the desert. He carried

on the canal begun by his father and opened a water-way between the

Mediterranean and the Red Sea.[82] No enterprise was too difficult, no

project too vast, for his ambition. “As a child,” says the stela of

Dakkeh, “he superintended the public works and his hands laid their

foundations.” As a man, he became the supreme builder. Of his gigantic

structures, only certain colossal fragments have survived the ravages of

time; yet those fragments are the wonder of the world.

To estimate the cost at which these things were done is now impossible.

Every temple, every palace, represented a hecatomb of human lives.

Slaves from Ethiopia, captives taken in war, Syrian immigrants settled

in the delta, were alike pressed into the service of the state. We know

how the Hebrews suffered, and to what extremity of despair they were

reduced by the tasks imposed upon them. Yet even the Hebrews were less

cruelly used than some who were kidnaped beyond the frontiers. Torn from

their homes, without hope of return, driven in herds to the mines, the

quarries, and the brick-fields, these hapless victims were so dealt with

that not even the chances of desertion were open to them. The negroes

from the south were systematically drafted to the north; the Asiatic

captives were transported to Ethiopia. Those who labored underground

were goaded on without rest or respite, till they fell down in the mines

and died.

That Rameses II was the Pharaoh of the captivity,[83] and that Meneptah,

his son and successor, was the Pharaoh of the exodus,[84] are now among

the accepted presumptions of Egyptological science. The Bible and the

monuments confirm each other upon these points, while both are again

corroborated by the results of recent geographical and philological

research. The “treasure-cities Pithom and Raamses” which the Israelites

built for Pharaoh with bricks of their own making, are the Pa-Tum and

Pa-Rameses, of the inscriptions, and both have recently been identified

by M. Naville, in the course of his excavations conducted in 1883 and

1886 for the Egypt Exploration Fund.

The discovery of Pithom, the ancient biblical “treasure-city” of the

first chapter of Exodus, has probably attracted more public attention

and been more widely discussed by European savants than any

archæological event since the discovery of Nineveh. It was in February,

1883, that M. Naville opened the well-known mound of Tel-el-Maskhutah,

on the south bank of the new sweet-water canal in the Wady Tûmilât, and

there discovered the foundations and other remains of a fortified city

of the kind known in Egyptian as a _bekhen_, or store-fort. This

_bekhen_, which was surrounded by a wall thirty feet in thickness,

proved to be about twelve acres in extent. In one corner of the

inclosure were found the ruins of a temple built by Rameses II. The rest

of the area consisted of a labyrinth of subterraneous rectangular

cellars, or store-chambers, constructed of sun-dried bricks of large

size and divided by walls varying from eight to ten feet in thickness.

In the ruins of the temple were discovered several statues more or less

broken, a colossal hawk inscribed with the royal ovals of Rameses II,

and other works of art dating from the reigns of Osorkon II, Nectanebo

and Ptolemy Philadelphus. The hieroglyphic legends engraved upon the

statues established the true value of the discovery by giving both the

name of the city and the name of the district in which the city was

situated; the first being Pa-Tum (Pithom), the “Abode of Tum,” and the

second being Thuku-t (Succoth); so identifying “Pa-Tum, in the district

of Thuku-t,” with Pithom, the treasure-city built by the forced labor of

the Hebrews and Succoth, the region in which they made their first halt

on going forth from the land of bondage. Even the bricks with which the

great wall and the walls of the store-chambers are built bear eloquent

testimony to the toil of the suffering colonists and confirm in its

minutest details the record of their oppression; some being duly kneaded

with straw; others, when the straw was no longer forthcoming, being

mixed with the leafage of a reed common to the marsh lands of the delta;

and the remainder, when even this substitute ran short, being literally

“bricks without straw,” molded of mere clay crudely dried in the sun.

The researches of M. Naville further showed that the temple to Tum,

founded by Rameses II, was restored, or rebuilt, by Osorkon II, of the

twenty-second dynasty; while at a still higher level were discovered the

remains of a Roman fortress. That Pithom was still an important place in

the time of the Ptolemies is proved by a large and historically

important tablet found by M. Naville in one of the store-chambers, where

it had been thrown in with other sculptures and rubbish of various

kinds. This tablet records repairs done to the canal, an expedition to

Ethiopia and the foundation of the city of Arsinoë. Not less important

from a geographical point of view was the finding of a Roman milestone

which identifies Pithom with Hero (Heroöpolis), where, according to the

Septuagint, Joseph went forth to meet Jacob. This milestone gives nine

Roman miles as the distance from Heroöpolis to Clysma. A very curious

manuscript lately discovered by Sig. Gamurrini in the library of Arezzo,

shows that even so late as the fourth century of the Christian era this

ancient walled inclosure--the camp, or “Ero Castra,” of the Roman

period, the “Pithom” of the Bible--was still known to pious pilgrims as

“the Pithom built by the children of Israel;” that the adjoining town,

external to the camp, at that time established within the old Pithom

boundaries, was known as “Heroöpolis;” and that the town of Rameses was

distant from Pithom about twenty Roman miles.[85]

As regards Pa-Rameses, the other “treasure-city” of Exodus, it is

conjecturally, but not positively, identified by M. Naville with the

mound of Saft-el-Henneh, the scene of his explorations in 1886. That

Saft-el-Henneh was identical with “Kes,” or Goshen, the capital town of

the “Land of Goshen,” has been unequivocally demonstrated by the

discoverer; and that it was also known in the time of Rameses II as

“Pa-Rameses” is shown to be highly probable.[86] There are remains of a

temple built of black basalt, with pillars, fragments of statues and the

like, all inscribed with the cartouches of Rameses II; and the distance

from Pithom is just twenty Roman miles.

It was from Pa-Rameses that Rameses II set out with his army to attack

the confederate princes of Asia Minor then lying in ambush near

Kadesh;[87] and it was hither that he returned in triumph after the

great victory. A contemporary letter written by one Panbesa, a scribe,

narrates in glowing terms the beauty and abundance of the royal city,

and tells how the damsels stood at their doors in holiday apparel, with

nosegays in their hands and sweet oil upon their locks, “on the day of

the arrival of the war-god of the world.” This letter is in the British

Museum.[88]

Other letters written during the reign of Rameses II have by some been

supposed to make direct mention of the Israelites.

“I have obeyed the orders of my master,” writes the scribe Kauiser to

his superior Bak-en-Ptah, “being bidden to serve out the rations to the

soldiers, and also to the Aperiu [Hebrews?], who quarry stone for the

palace of King Rameses Mer-Amen.” A similar document written by a scribe

named Keniamon and couched in almost the same words shows these Aperiu

on another occasion to have been quarrying for a building on the

southern side of Memphis; in which case Turra would be the scene of

their labors.

These invaluable letters, written on papyrus in the hieratic character,

are in good preservation. They were found in the ruins of Memphis and

now form part of the treasures of the Museum of Leyden.[89] They bring

home to us with startling nearness the events and actors of the Bible

narrative. We see the toilers at their task and the overseers reporting

them to the directors of public works. They extract from the quarry

those huge blocks which are our wonder to this day. Harnessed to rude

sledges, they drag them to the river side and embark them for transport

to the opposite bank.[90] Some are so large and so heavy that it takes a

month to get them down from the mountain to the landing-place.[91] Other

laborers are elsewhere making bricks, digging canals, helping to build

the great wall which reached from Pelusium to Heliopolis, and

strengthening the defenses not only of Pithom and Rameses but of all the

cities and forts between the Red Sea and the Mediterranean. Their lot is

hard; but not harder than the lot of other workmen. They are well fed.

They intermarry. They increase and multiply. The season of their great

oppression is not yet come. They make bricks, it is true, and those who

are so employed must supply a certain number daily;[92] but the straw is

not yet withheld, and the task, though perhaps excessive, is not

impossible. For we are here on the reign of Rameses II, and the time

when Meneptah shall succeed him is yet far distant. It is not till the

king dies that the children of Israel sigh, “by reason of the bondage.”

There are in the British Museum, the Louvre, and the Bibliothèque

Nationale, some much older papyri than these two letters of the Leyden

collection--some as old, indeed, as the time of Joseph, but none,

perhaps, of such peculiar interest. In these, the scribes Kauiser and

Keniamon seem still to live and speak. What would we not give for a few

more of their letters! These men knew Memphis in its glory and had

looked upon the face of Rameses the Great. They might even have seen

Moses in his youth while yet he lived under the protection of his

adopted mother, a prince among princes. Kauiser and Keniamon lived, and

died, and were mummied between three and four thousand years ago; yet

these frail fragments of papyrus have survived the wreck of ages, and

the quaint writing with which they are covered is as intelligible to

ourselves as to the functionaries to whom it was addressed. The

Egyptians were eminently business-like, and kept accurate entries of the

keep and labor of their workmen and captives. From the earliest epoch of

which the monuments furnish record, we find an elaborate bureaucratic

system in full operation throughout the country. Even in the time of the

pyramid-builders, there are ministers of public works; inspectors of

lands, lakes, and quarries; secretaries, clerks, and overseers

innumerable.[93] From all these, we may be sure, were required strict

accounts of their expenditure, as well as reports of the work done under

their supervision. Specimens of Egyptian book-keeping are by no means

rare. The Louvre is rich in memoranda of the kind; some relating to the

date-tax; others to the transport and taxation of corn, the payment of

wages, the sale and purchase of land for burial, and the like. If any

definite and quite unmistakable news of the Hebrews should ever reach us

from Egyptian sources it will almost certainly be through the medium of

documents such as these.

An unusually long reign, the last forty-six years of which would seem to

have been spent in peace and outward prosperity, enabled Rameses II to

indulge his ruling passion without interruption. To draw up anything

like an exhaustive catalogue of his known architectural works would be

equivalent to writing an itinerary of Egypt and Ethiopia under the

nineteenth dynasty. His designs were as vast as his means appear to have

been unlimited. From the delta to Gebel Barkal, he filled the land with

monuments dedicated to his own glory and the worship of the gods. Upon

Thebes, Abydos, and Tanis he lavished structures of surpassing

magnificence. In Nubia, at the places now known as Gerf Hossayn, Wady

Sabooyah, Derr, and Abou Simbel, he was the author of temples and the

founder of cities. These cities, which would probably be better

described as provincial towns, have disappeared; and but for the mention

of them in various inscriptions we should not even know that they had

existed. Who shall say how many more have vanished, leaving neither

trace nor record? A dozen cities of Rameses[94] may yet lie buried under

some of these nameless mounds which follow each other in such quick

succession along the banks of the Nile in Middle and Lower Egypt. Only

yesterday, as it were, the remains of what would seem to have been a

magnificent structure decorated in a style absolutely unique, were

accidentally discovered under the mounds of Tel-el-Yahoodeh,[95] about

twelve miles to the northeast of Cairo. There are probably fifty such

mounds, none of which have been opened, in the delta alone; and it is no

exaggeration to say that there must be some hundreds between the

Mediterranean and the first cataract.

An inscription found of late years at Abydos shows that Rameses II

reigned over his great kingdom for the space of sixty-seven years. “It

is thou,” says Ramses IV, addressing himself to Osiris, “it is thou who

wilt rejoice me with such length of reign as Ramses II, the great god,

in his sixty-seven years. It is thou who wilt give me the long duration

of this great reign.”[96]

If only we knew at what age Ramses II succeeded to the throne, we

should, by help of this inscription, know also the age at which he died.

No such record has, however, transpired, but a careful comparison of the

length of time occupied by the various events of his reign, and above

all the evidence of ago afforded by the mummy of this great Pharaoh,

discovered in 1886, show that he must have been very nearly, if not

quite, a centenarian.

“Thou madest designs while yet in the age of infancy,” says the stela of

Dakkeh. “Thou wert a boy wearing the sidelock, and no monument was

erected and no order was given without thee. Thou wert a youth aged ten

years, and all the public works were in thy hands, laying their

foundations.” These lines, translated literally, cannot, however, be

said to prove much. They certainly contain nothing to show that this

youth of ten was, at the time alluded to, sole king and ruler of Egypt.

That he was titular king, in the hereditary sense, from his birth[97]

and during the lifetime of his father, is now quite certain. That he

should, as a boy, have designed public buildings and superintended their

construction is extremely probable. The office was one which might well

have been discharged by a crown prince who delighted in architecture and

made it his peculiar study. It was, in fact, a very noble office--an

office which from the earliest days of the ancient empire had constantly

been confided to princes of the royal blood;[98] but it carried with it

no evidence of sovereignty. The presumption, therefore, would be that

the stela of Dakkeh (dating as it does from the third year of the sole

reign of Rameses II) alludes to a time long since past, when the king as

a boy held office under his father.

The same inscription, as we have already seen, makes reference to the

victorious campaign in the south. Rameses is addressed as “the bull

powerful against Ethiopia; the griffin furious against the negroes;” and

that the events hereby alluded to must have taken place during the first

three years of his sole reign is proved by the date of the tablet. The

great dedicatory inscription of Abydos shows, in fact, that Rameses II

was prosecuting a campaign in Ethiopia at the time when he received

intelligence of the death of his father and that he came down the Nile,

northward, in order, probably, to be crowned at Thebes.[99]

Now the famous sculptures of the commemorative chapel at Bayt-el-Welly

relate expressly to the events of this expedition; and as they are

executed in that refined and delicate style which especially

characterizes the bas-relief work of Gourmah, of Adydos, of all those

buildings which were either erected by Seti I or begun by Seti and

finished during the early years of Rameses II, I venture to think we may

regard them as contemporary, or very nearly contemporary, with the

scenes they represent. In any case, it is reasonable to conclude that

the artists employed on the work would know something about the events

and persons delineated and that they would be guilty of no glaring

inaccuracies.

All doubt as to whether the dates refer to the associated reigns of Seti

and Rameses, or to the sole reign of the latter, vanish, however, when

in these same sculptures[100] we find the conqueror accompanied by his

son, Prince Amenherkhopeshef, who is of an age not only to bear his part

in the field, but afterward to conduct an important ceremony of state on

the occasion of the submission and tribute offering of the Ethiopian

commander. Such is the unmistakable evidence of the bas-reliefs at

Bayt-el-Welly, as those who cannot go to Bayt-el-Welly may see and judge

for themselves by means of the admirable casts of these great tableaux

which line the walls of the second Egyptian room at the British Museum.

To explain away Prince Amenherkhopeshef would be difficult. We are

accustomed to a certain amount of courtly exaggeration on the part of

those who record with pen or pencil the great deeds of the Pharaohs. We

expect to see the king always young, always beautiful, always

victorious. It seems only right and natural that he should be never less

than twenty and sometimes more than sixty feet in height. But that any

flatterer should go so far as to credit a lad of thirteen with a son at

least as old as himself is surely quite incredible.

Lastly, there is the evidence of the Bible.

Joseph being dead and the Israelites established in Egypt, there comes

to the throne a Pharaoh who takes alarm at the increase of this alien

race and who seeks to check their too rapid multiplication. He not only

oppresses the foreigners, but ordains that every male infant born to

them in their bondage shall be cast into the river. This Pharaoh is now

universally believed to be Rameses II. Then comes the old, sweet,

familiar Bible story that we know so well. Moses is born, cast adrift in

the ark of bulrushes and rescued by the king’s daughter. He becomes to

her “as a son.” Although no dates are given, it is clear that the new

Pharaoh has not been long upon the throne when these events happen. It

is equally clear that he is no mere youth. He is old in the uses of

state-craft; and he is the father of a princess of whom it is difficult

to suppose that she was herself an infant.

On the whole, then, we can but conclude that Rameses II, though born a

king, was not merely grown to manhood, but wedded, and the father of

children already past the period of infancy, before he succeeded to the

sole exercise of sovereign power. This is, at all events, the view taken

by Professor Maspero, who expressly says, in the latest edition of his

“Histoire Ancienne,” “that Rameses II, when he received news of the

death of his father, was then in the prime of life and surrounded by a

large family, some of whom were of an age to fight under his

command.”[101]

Brugsch places the birth of Moses in the sixth year of the reign of

Rameses II.[102] This may very well be. The fourscore years that elapsed

between that time and the time of the exodus correspond with sufficient

exactness to the chronological data furnished by the monuments. Moses

would thus see out the sixty-one remaining years of the king’s long

life, and release the Israelites from bondage toward the close of the

reign of Menepthah,[103] who sat for about twenty years on the throne of

his fathers. The correspondence of dates this time leaves nothing to be

desired.

The Sesostris of Diodorus Siculus went blind and died by his own hand;

which act, says the historian, as it conformed to the glory of his life,

was greatly admired by his people. We are here evidently in the region

of pure fable. Suicide was by no means an Egyptian, but a classical,

virtue. Just as the Greeks hated age, the Egyptians reverenced it; and

it may be doubted whether a people who seem always to have passionately

desired length of days would have seen anything to admire in a willful

shortening of that most precious gift of the gods. With the one

exception of Cleopatra--the death of Nitocris the rosy-cheeked being

also of Greek,[104] and therefore questionable, origin--no Egyptian

sovereign is known to have committed suicide; and even Cleopatra, who

was half Greek by birth, must have been influenced to the act by Greek

and Roman example. Dismissing, then, altogether this legend of his

blindness and self-slaughter, it must be admitted that of the death of

Rameses II we know nothing certain.

Such are, very briefly, the leading facts of the history of this famous

Pharaoh. Exhaustively treated, they would expand into a volume. Even

then, however, one would ask, and ask in vain, what manner of man he

was. Every attempt to evolve his personal character from these scanty

data is in fact a mere exercise of fancy.[105] That he was personally

valiant may be gathered with due reservation, from the poem of Pentaur;

and that he was not unmerciful is shown in the extradition clause of the

Khetan treaty. His pride was evidently boundless. Every temple which he

erected was a monument to his own glory; every colossus was a trophy;

every inscription a pæan of self-praise. At Abou Simbel, at Derr, at

Gerf Hossayn, he seated his own image in the sanctuary among the images

of the gods.[106] There are even instances in which he is depicted

under the twofold aspect of royalty and divinity--Rameses the Pharaoh

burning incense before Rameses the Deity.

For the rest, it is safe to conclude that he was neither better nor

worse than the general run of oriental despots--that he was ruthless in

war, prodigal in peace, rapacious of booty and unsparing in the exercise

of almost boundless power. Such pride and such despotism were, however,

in strict accordance with immemorial precedent and with the temper of

the age in which he lived. The Egyptians would seem beyond all doubt to

have believed that their king was always in some sense divine. They

wrote hymns[107] and offered up prayers to him, and regarded him as the

living representative of deity. His princes and ministers habitually

addressed him in the language of worship. Even his wives, who ought to

have known better, are represented in the performance of acts of

religious adoration before him. What wonder, then, if the man so deified

believed himself a god?

A thousand miles up the Nile · 第 15 / 23 章