They form two circular portions of nearly equal size, joined by two

hinges, the first turning on a fixed axis, the second a movable bolt

taken away when the bracelet was opened. The back part is a mere plate

of polished gold about 1½ inches broad, on which eight twists and eight

fillets are laid side by side. The twists and fillets alternate, and

the ends are bordered with a thin strip parallel to the hinge. On it

are placed two rows of minute particles of metal soldered together,

and kept in place by two flat double-twisted little chains. The front

portion is expanded to the middle, where it is just over 2 inches in

height. At the hinges it is edged by a row of egg-shaped ornaments

set between two flat chains, and along the curves by a twist flanked

by two fillets. A second frame, included in the first, is of a more

complicated design: a double _motif_ of little beads and chains goes

round the curves, but on the side of the fixed hinge the cartouche

name of Ramses II is to be seen, and on the side of the movable hinge

two bands of beads and filigree lozenges on a plain background. In the

space thus reserved the goldsmith had traced the silhouette of a group

of ducks lying flat, by means of a line of beads and a thin thread.

The two bodies, which are packed together so as to be combined in one,

are formed of a piece of lapis lazuli, cut and highly polished. The

ends of the bodies are imprisoned in a gold sheath decorated with a

covering of small knobs and lozenges; the tails are joined together,

and simulate a fan; they are of lapis, striped with threads of gold to

mark the separation of the feathers. Another gold sheath, of similar

workmanship, envelops the chest; the two necks escape with a bold

movement, and the two heads, twisting round, lie symmetrically on the

back of the creatures. Between them and the frame is a smooth ribbon in

sharp zigzags on a seed-plot of granules. The whole effect is rather

heavy, and it would have been better if the artist had shown a more

sober taste; but having stated so much, it is clearly seen that his

work was conceived with a perfect understanding of decoration and a

mastery of all the secrets of the art.

All the methods that he so well manipulated may be found in the work

of the goldsmiths of contemporary Egypt, especially in that of those

who, living in remote villages, have come less under European influence

than their colleagues in the cities. The models they copy are never

of so delicate an imagination or so skilled an execution; but we note

for the most part the same devices and the same decorative parts of

which we note the employment here; lozenges, zigzags, simple twisted

cords, double-plaited small chains, rounded mallets, threads, filigrees

in lines or in seeds. The ingots are beaten, stretched, fashioned,

polished on the same little anvil. The granules are blown as formerly

in charcoal powder, and the skill with which they are put together and

soldered to obtain the desired designs is as great as in the time of

the Pharaohs. In that, as in many other industries, the Egypt of to-day

has inherited from the Egypt of the past, and we have only to look at

the artisans in their shops to learn how the subjects of Ramses II set

about their work.

III

The gold and silver vases are some years later than the bracelets.

On one of them, indeed, may be read the name of Taouasrît, a

great-granddaughter of Ramses II who married successively Siphtah and

Setouî II, and who enjoyed her hour of celebrity in the last days

of the XIXth Dynasty. It is a half-opened lotus, mounted on its

stem. The calyx of the flower is formed of thin gold-leaf, not lined,

sharply cut at the outer edge. The stalk is smooth except where the

cartouche is engraved: it expands and flattens out at the bottom to

form a foot, and the widening is decorated with folioles, kept in place

by three circular bands. The lines are sufficiently harmonious, but

the execution is poor, and the object would scarcely deserve a brief

mention in our catalogue if the royal name did not assign it a definite

date: here the artistic yields to the archæological value.

[Illustration: GOLD CUP OF QUEEN TAOUASRÎT.]

[Illustration: SMALLER OF THE TWO GOLD VASES (FRONT VIEW).]

It is otherwise with the gold vases that accompany it. They are of

medium size, and the smallest of them all measures only about 3 inches

from bottom to top; but the harmony of the proportions makes them

perfect models of the kind of plate that appeared at banquets on the

sideboards or tables of the rich. The bowl is rounded, and surmounted

by a straight neck almost as high as the bowl itself, the upper edge of

which curves slightly outwards. The front is decorated with a traced

ornament simulating that of one of the large necklaces in lotus petals

with which the Egyptians adorned themselves on fête-days. The two

bands with which it was fastened to the neck fall undulating on the

right and left, and two cats--the two cats of the goddess worshipped

at Bubastis--look at them inquisitively, with attentive eye, distended

back, quivering tail, straight ears, as if asking to play with them.

A lotus escapes below, and on the slopes of its corolla two geese

glide flapping their wings. The neck is divided into three equal rows,

separated by flat cords: first a wreath of lotus buds points downwards,

joined together by a band of threads, one on top of the other; then a

row of egg-shaped fruits, and lastly a band of round florets hollowed

in the centre and the hollow encircled with points like stamens. There

is neither handle nor holder, but a small barrel, through which a gold

ring was passed and by which the object could be hung up, was fastened

by three rivets to the lotus buds on the side opposite to that of the

necklace. The barrel is of bluish faïence set in a gold mount with

a terminal flower. It shows signs of wear and is dented in several

places, but none of the blows it suffered have seriously injured it: it

is as perfect as at the moment it issued new from the shop. The choice

of motives is elegant, the grouping irreproachable, the composition

bold and a little summary: the artist seems to have worked quickly,

but he possessed such mastery of his craft that the rapidity of the

fabrication in no way injured the charm of the work.

[Illustration: SMALLER OF THE TWO GOLD VASES (BACK VIEW).]

[Illustration: MASS OF SILVER VASES SOLDERED TOGETHER BY OXIDE.]

The second vase is larger, for it measures about 4½ inches in height;

if the shape is similar, the detail of the decoration is very

different. The bottom is flat, and the outer surface is filled by

a lotus, drawn so as to cover it entirely. The bowl is not smooth,

but three-fourths of it are covered with a regular bossage, which

gives it the appearance of an enormous symbolic ear of _dourah_. The

method employed to produce it is not repoussé work properly so-called,

hammered from the inside to the outside. The general network was

first very lightly traced on the metal; then the rounds were outlined

with a blunt instrument and hammered into a furrow, which, pressing

down the metal round them, left them themselves in relief. The neck

was finished by an almost imperceptible rim, obtained by turning the

upper edge of the gold plaque outwards. There are four rows instead

of the three of the small vase: at the top the line of buds, then

lotuses head downwards, with alternate bunches of grapes or undefined

flowers hanging between them, then centred florets, and then fruits.

The suspensory ring is fastened to the band of petals by a _motif_ in

shape of a calf. The beast lies on its belly, the tail folded over the

back; the head, turning to the right, is extended and raised, as if to

look over the edge of the neck. It seems to have been chiselled in the

solid metal, and not engrafted, and then finished with the graver. It

is treated broadly, with a sure touch and the knowledge of animal form

that is peculiar to the Egyptians; it may be placed beside the couchant

calves that serve as perfume caskets and are masterpieces of sculpture

in wood: it will lose nothing by the comparison. The whole presents the

same characteristics as the preceding vase, and when closely examined

we are soon convinced that it comes from the same workshop; indeed,

there is little risk of mistake if we attribute both to the same artist.

[Illustration: LARGER OF THE TWO GOLD VASES (FRONT VIEW).]

[Illustration: LARGER OF THE TWO GOLD VASES (BACK VIEW).]

It is the same with the two silver jugs which accompany the two

gold vases: they have a common origin, and an equal importance for

oriental toreumatology. One of them, unfortunately, was broken, and

we do not possess all the pieces; but we have enough to be sure that

it resembled the one that has come to us intact. The bowl is covered

to two-thirds of its height with longitudinal rows of fruits, sitting

one on the other like the scales of a pine cone. Here again it is not

ordinary repoussé work, but the outline of each scale has been marked

round and the metal then pressed down from outside to inside. The

smooth belt which lies between the embossing and the rise of the neck

carries round the whole of the vase a single line of hieroglyphics

expressing a wish for the eternal life and prosperity of the royal

cupbearer, Toumoumtaouneb, then a vignette and the owner in worship

before a goddess, who is pacific and Egyptian on the perfect vase, but

bellicose and foreign on the broken vase, armed with lance and buckler.

Toumoumtaouneb was a person of importance in his time: not only was he

entitled chief cupbearer, but he is proclaimed the king’s messenger in

all barbarous lands, and he doubtless brought back his pious regard for

the bellicose goddess from one of his journeys in Syria. That is the

only exotic element found in the decoration of the two vases. The top

of the neck is ornamented with a rim of light gold. It has two rows

of subjects, one on top of the other: episodes of hunting or fishing.

A fragment of the broken vase shows a troop of wild horses running

towards a marsh with lotuses, where birds are flying. The intact

vase is unfortunately encrusted in places with oxide, which obscures

the detail of the scenes: we distinguish outlines of boats, tufts of

aquatic plants, men drawing nets or shooting arrows, beasts at full

gallop; in the upper row there are imaginary trees with palm-leaves or

volutes, among which griffins fight with lions. If we do not owe the

silver vases to the same artist who fashioned the gold vases, he was at

least endowed with the same admirable skill. He has greatly simplified

the outline of his figures, but the lines are firm, even, sunk in the

metal with the precision of a master: the craft had no secrets from

him. But that is not the chief merit of his work: twenty others would

have been capable of so much among the goldsmiths who worked for the

king and the great nobles. What specially distinguishes it is the

originality of the design he chose for the handle, and the manner in

which he treated it. A kid, attracted by the fumes of the wine

contained in the vase, had climbed the bowl, and boldly standing on

its hind feet, the legs strained, the spine rigid, the knees leaning

against two gold calyxes which spring horizontally from the silver

face, the muzzle pressed against the moulding, he looks greedily over

the edge: a ring passing through the nostril serves for hanging up the

vase. The body is hollow and has been fashioned in two pieces stamped

out, and the two halves soldered together longitudinally and touched

up with the graver. The horns and ears are inserted: a triangular

hole was introduced in the middle of the forehead. The material

technique is excellent, but the conception is even superior to the

technique: nothing could be truer than the movement that inspires the

little creature, nor more ingenious than the expression of greediness

emanating from the whole of the body.

[Illustration: THE VASE WITH THE KID.

(About 6¼ inches in height.)]

Representations of many similar vases may be seen on the monuments

of the Theban Dynasties, with foxes, leopards, and human beings for

handles, and we had asked ourselves if they really existed anywhere

except in the imagination of the painters of the hypogeums. There is

now no manner of doubt that they were faithful reproductions of models

used by the Egyptians, or by the nations with whom the Egyptians had

relations either in war or in commerce. Shall we ever find one of

the large table épergnes which show scenes of conquest, with trees,

animals, statuettes of negroes or Asiatics in gold or in enamel? They

contained such a large amount of metal that they would have been cast

into the melting-pot at some moment of want, but we await the chance

that may give us depôts similar to that of Zagazig: I do not think,

however, that we shall find pieces of a finer inspiration or of a more

harmonious composition than that of the vase with the kid.

IV

The silver pateræ have suffered much. Hurriedly piled up in the

receptacle where they were hidden, the oxide bound them solidly

together, and we have not yet succeeded in separating them all. It

has besides eaten into them in so thorough a fashion that we have

only ventured to clean two or three: it is doubtful if we shall ever

risk touching the rest. It is a misfortune common to most of the

silver objects found in Egypt: under the influence of the annual

infiltrations, the organic acids, of which the subsoil of the ancient

cities is composed, attack them and eat them away without truce or

mercy. If the metal was of suitable thickness we might hope that the

surface only was injured and the core of the metal unharmed, but most

often they consist of a leaf of metal of extreme thinness, which

quickly decomposes. Thus the object only endures at all thanks to the

oxide crust, and if that support was removed it would be resolved into

dust and tiny fragments.

[Illustration: ONE OF THE SILVER PATERÆ OF ZAGAZIG (SIDE VIEW).]

[Illustration: SILVER STRAINER.]

Only one of the pateræ is almost intact. It measures just over 6 inches

in diameter and about 5½ inches in height. It is flat at the bottom

and the sides are slightly inflated at the base; they are decorated at

the top with a gold border fastened to the rim by rivets. Two small

decorated plates in chased gold are furnished with rings which hold a

little gold rod that, bent in three, serves to suspend it. Four large

gold rounds are placed flat on the rim opposite the handle. The side

is smooth, with a single line of hieroglyphics on the outside--a kind

wish, on the parvis of the temple of Neîth, for the owner, the

singing-girl of Neîth, Tamaî, “the Cat.” It is silver leaf, stamped

out in a curve, the two ends of which have been joined without any

appreciable overlapping and then soldered together. The bottom is also

formed of silver leaf, which is fastened to the lower edge of the

sides and divided into two concentric rows. In the centre is a sort of

umbilicus, with a gold flat-rimmed hat decorated by a line of rounded

beads of metal and several lines of little chains. The row nearest the

centre is slightly lower; on it may be seen water full of fish, with

tufts of lotus here and there. A little papyrus boat, occupied by a

naked shepherd and a calf, floats amid the patches of green; birds fly

about, and two nude figures of young women--the same who, modelled in

wood, provided the sculptors of the period with a charming design for

perfume ladles--swim side by side in order to gather flowers. A flat

space and a line of tiny rounds separate the pool from a hunting-ground

that four conventional palm-trees planted at equal distance divide

into the same number of distinct compartments. Two winged sphinxes

with women’s heads stand on either side of one palm, the paw raised

and stretched out as if to pull down the dates: two symmetrical pairs

of goats leap at the other palms to browse on them. Between these

groups, animals run madly about, a wild ox chased by a leopard, hares

and gazelles by foxes, dogs, or wolves. The figures of the middle row

are of repoussé work of so feeble a character that we should almost

say they are engraved on the metal: those of the outer row are of a

stronger repoussé, and then gone over again and finished with the

graver.

The other pateræ resemble these as far as the technique and decoration

are concerned: they evidently came from the same workshop and belonged

to one owner. Were they for daily use or only for ornament? It would

seem that they were not fashioned for a definite use: at least they

do not recall the shapes seen on the monuments in the hands of guests

at a banquet or of priests in the sacrifices. They were hung on the

walls of halls, or placed on sideboards on fête-days, and if they were

given to the guests, it was not simply for them to eat or drink out of.

Filled with fresh water or clear wine, it was a sort of miniature lake,

in the centre of which the point of the gold hat rose like an islet:

the landscape and figures, seen through the transparent medium, stood

out on the flat background with peculiar vivacity, and were effaced or

deformed at pleasure when the liquid was disturbed. It is not so long

since we were pleased with similar puerilities, and Orientals do not

disdain them to-day: the pateræ were, perhaps, toys rather than objects

of real utility. I shall not say the same of the silver strainers,

the forms of which are elegant but not overladen with ornament, and

evidently intended for use. A wide opened funnel, a plaque at the

bottom pierced with tiny little holes--the handle alone testifies to

any artistic attempt--an open papyrus flower, the petals of which, bent

over the stem, lean on the rim of the funnel. It is a useful implement

for kitchen or cellar, well adapted to its end, easy to keep clean, in

a word practical, a thing in truth that the pateræ are not.

V

It is clear, then, that the interest of the find is great in itself

on account of the number and beauty of the objects. Until now the

greater part of the goldsmiths’ work we possess was of the Ptolemaic

period, and those that could be attributed with certainty to the

Pharaonic period possessed no characteristics that permitted us to

judge the skill of the Egyptians. The pictures on the walls of tombs

or temples authorize our belief that it was very skilful, but the

conventions of their designs are still so ill-defined that there is not

always agreement about their interpretation. It is even necessary to

ask if certain motives figuring outside a vase ought not to be taken

as belonging to the decoration of the inside. We now have a sufficient

number of their works to justify our conjecture, and to declare in all

sincerity that the goldsmiths were in no way inferior to the sculptors,

at least so long as the second Theban Empire lasted.

[Illustration: THE BOTTOM OF ONE OF THE ZAGAZIG SILVER PATERÆ.]

These objects were found on the site of ancient Bubastis, and the

presence of the cats of the goddess Bastît on several of them, as

well as the name of Tamaî, the Cat, that is on the chief vase, seem

to point that they were made in the place that has restored them to

us. It is true that Tamaî was a singing-girl of Neîth, living in

the enclosed space before the temple of Neîth, and that might be a

counter-indication, at least so far as these objects are concerned.

Setting aside the question of origin, which is too uncertain, we may

ask if they are really Egyptian by inspiration, or if there is not a

risk in examining them more closely of the discovery of proofs of some

foreign influence. For about a quarter of a century, now, Assyria,

Chaldæa, Asia Minor, Crete and the Egyptian islands have become better

known to us, and the scholars who have studied those places have not

been slow to despoil Egypt in their favour: it is too often sufficient

for an object or an artistic design frequently occurring on Egyptian

monuments to be found in those places at once to attribute to them the

original invention or ownership. I cannot help thinking that many of

these claims are not legitimate, and that in a more general way it is

exceedingly rash in the case of a civilization so complex and distant

in its beginnings as that of Egypt at the time of the second Theban

Empire, to claim the ability to discern all the elements it borrowed

from outside. We know how rapidly the peoples of the Nile assimilate

the foreigner: in ancient times, it was with the arts as with men,

and forms of architecture, of drawing, of industrial production,

transplanted among them, either quickly disappeared and left no trace,

or yielded to the conditions of the country, and became so completely

fused with the taste of its environment that it is now scarcely

possible to distinguish the foreign from the native. I believe that

Egypt certainly accepted exotic types; but the lands with which she had

relations did not abstain from imitating her, and from the most distant

ages. She gave to others at least as much as she received from them,

and in many cases where the question of filiation has recently been

determined against her, it would be well to suspend that judgment, if

not to upset it.

In this case, I imagine that it will not enter any one’s mind to

dispute that the bracelets of Ramses II and the chalice of Taouasrît

are Egyptian pure and simple. The two gold vases and the two silver

jugs present no foreign characteristic: the gold kid is of the same

family as the goats sculptured fifteen or twenty centuries earlier in

the Memphian bas-reliefs, standing on their hind legs and nibbling at

a bush. The pateræ, it is true, resemble the Phœnician gold and bronze

cups so often found in the Euphrates districts and in the lands on the

shores of the Mediterranean: but no one has refused to admit that

they were imitations of Egyptian models, and perhaps a more impartial

examination would lead archæologists to restore some of them at least

to Egypt. At any rate, the treasure of Zagazig shows us what those

models ought to be: the Phœnicians were not unmindful of them and

respected the general arrangement, even if they often modified the

detail. One element only in the scenes of the two rows may be exotic:

the female sphinx with the strange locks of hair, if we choose to see

in her a derivative of the griffin rather than a fantastic deformation

of the male sphinx of a former age. But even so, it must not be

forgotten that the griffin belongs to the ancient national foundations

like the oxen and gazelles, goats, dogs, leopards seen by its side:

its presence would only prove--if its form was so characteristic that

we could not refuse to believe it an incongruity--that it was borrowed

from the arts of Syria or Chaldæa by some artist tired of always using

the traditional types of his country.

XVIII

THREE STATUETTES IN WOOD

(_The Louvre_)

The three little wooden figures reproduced here are of Theban origin,

and represent persons who lived under the conqueror-kings of the

XVIIIth and XIXth Dynasties.

The first was found in the Salt collection, purchased by Champollion at

Leghorn in 1825, which forms the basis of the Louvre collection.[77]

It is a young woman in a long clinging dress trimmed with a band of

embroidery in white thread running from top to bottom. She wears a gold

necklace of three rows and gold bracelets. On her head is a wig, the

hair of which hangs down to the rise of the breast; the wig is kept

in place by a large gilded band simulating a crown of leaves arranged

points downwards. The right arm hangs down beside the body, and the

hand held an object, probably in metal, which has disappeared; the

left arm is folded across the chest, and the hand clasps the stem of

a lotus, the bud pointing between the breasts. The body is supple and

well-formed, the breast young, straight, slight, the face broad,

and smiling with something of softness and vulgarity. The artist was

unable to avoid heaviness in the arrangement of the coiffure, but he

has modelled the body with an elegant and chaste delicacy; the dress

follows the form without revealing it indiscreetly, and the gesture

with which the young woman presses the flower against her is natural.

The statuette is painted dark red, except the eyes and the embroidery,

which are white, and the wig, which is black: the bracelets, the

necklace, and the bandeau are of a yellow gold identical with the small

book exhibited in the glass case marked Z in the “Salle civile.”[78]

[Illustration:

La Dame Naî Prêtre Officier en costume demi civil

STATUETTES IN WOOD.

The Louvre.]

Two inscriptions engraved on the pedestal, and then painted yellow,

inform us of the name of the woman, and of that of the individual who

dedicated the statue. One on the front runs thus:

(A) ADORATION TO PHTAH

SOKAR-OSIRI,[79] GREAT GOD, PRINCE

OF ETERNITY, TO WHOM ARE GIVEN ALL KINDS OF GOOD

THINGS AND PURE THINGS, TO THE DOUBLE OF THE

PERFECT LADY NAÎ OF THE TRUE PERFECT VOICE.

The other is engraved on the right side, and runs:

(B) IT IS HER BROTHER WHO MAKES HER NAME TO LIVE,

THE SERVANT PHTAH-MAÎ.

Egyptian Art: Studies · 第 10 / 14 段