CHAPTER III.

SEPULCHRAL ARCHITECTURE.

§ 1.--_The Egyptian Belief as to a Future Life and its Influence upon

their Sepulchral Architecture._

The most ancient monuments which have yet been discovered in Egypt are

the tombs; they have therefore a right to the first place in our

sketch of Egyptian architecture.

In every country the forms and characteristics of the sepulchre are

determined by the ideas of the natives as to the fate of their bodies

and souls after life is over. In order to understand the Egyptian

arrangements, we must begin then by inquiring into their notions upon

death and its consequences; we must ask whether they believed in

another life, and in what kind of life. We shall find a complete

answer to our question in the collation of written texts with figured

monuments.

In the first period of his intellectual development, man is unable to

comprehend any life but that which he experiences in his own person.

He is as yet unable to observe, to analyse or to generalize. He does

not perceive the characteristics which distinguish him from things

about him, and he sees nothing in nature but a repetition of himself.

He is therefore incapable of distinguishing between life such as he

leads it and mere existence. He dreams of no other way of being than

his own. As such is the tendency of his intellect, nothing could be

more natural or more logical than the conception to which it leads him

in presence of the problem offered to him every time that a corpse

descends into the grave. M. Maspero has so thoroughly understood the

originality of the solution adopted by the Egyptians that we cannot do

better, in attempting to explain the hypothesis, at once gross and

subtle, to which they had recourse for consolation, than borrow his

rendering of the texts which throw light upon this subject,

together with some of the reflections which those texts suggested to

him.[114]

[114] "_Conférence sur l'Histoire des Âmes dans l'Égypte

ancienne, d'après les Monuments du Musée du Louvre_," in the

_Bulletin hebdomadaire de l'Association scientifique de France_,

No. 594. M. Maspero has often and exhaustively treated this

subject, especially in his numerous lectures at the Collège de

France. Those lectures afforded the material for the remarkable

paper in the _Journal asiatique_ entitled, "_Étude sur quelques

Peintures et sur quelques Textes relatifs aux Funérailles_"

(numbers for May, June, 1878, for December-June, and November,

December, 1879, and May-June, 1880). These articles have been

republished in a single volume with important corrections and

additions (Maisonneuve, 1880).

[Illustration:

J. Sulpis del et sc.

SETI I

BAS-RELIEF AT ABYDOS

]

Were we to affirm that during thousands of years no change took place

in the ideas of the Egyptians upon a future life, we should not be

believed, and, as a fact, those ideas underwent a continual process of

refinement. Under the eighteenth and nineteenth dynasties, during

those centuries when the limits of Egyptian empire and Egyptian

thought were carried farthest afield, we find traces of doctrines

which offer notable variations, and even, when closely examined,

actual contradictions. These are successive answers made during a long

course of time to the eternal and never-changing enigma. As they

became more capable of philosophic speculation the Egyptians modified

their definition of the soul, and, by a necessary consequence, of the

manner in which its persistence after death must be understood, and as

always happens in such a case, these successive conceptions are

super-imposed one upon another; the last comer did not dethrone its

predecessor but became inextricably blended with it in the popular

imagination.

We refer all those who wish to follow minutely this curious

development of the Egyptian intellect to the subtle analysis of M.

Maspero. That historian has applied himself to the apprehension of

every delicate shade of meaning in a system of thought which has to be

grasped through the veil thrown around it by extreme difficulties of

language and written character, but at the same time he has never

attempted to endow it with a precision or logical completeness to

which it had no claim. By well chosen comparisons and illustrations he

enables us to understand how the Egyptian contented himself with vague

notions, and how he managed to harmonize ideas which seem to us

inconsistent.

We shall not enter into those details. We shall not seek to determine

the sense which the Egyptians attached, after a certain period, to the

word _bâi_,[115] which has been translated _soul_, nor the

distinction between it and _khou_, luminousness, which the soul seems

to have enveloped like a garment. We shall not follow the soul and its

internal light in its subterranean journey across _Ament_, the

Egyptian Hades, to which it entered by a cleft, _Pega_, to the west of

Abydos, which was the only portal to the kingdom of the shades; nor

shall we accompany them in the successive transformations which made

them acquainted with every corner of the earth and sky in the infinite

series of their _becomes_ (to use the Egyptian expression); what we

have to do is to trace out the most ancient of their religious

conceptions, the conception which, like the first teachings of

infancy, was so deeply engraved upon the soul and intellect of the

race as to exercise a much stronger influence than the later more

abstract and more philosophical theories, which were superimposed upon

it. In this primitive conception we ought to find the determining

cause of the Egyptian form of tomb. Its constitution was already

settled in the time of the ancient Empire, and, from the Memphite

dynasties until the end, it remained unchanged in principle. In this

constitution we shall find embodied the essential idea adopted by the

Egyptians when they first attempted to find some eternal element in

man, or, at least, some element which should resist the annihilation

of death for a period much longer than the few days which make up our

mortal life.

[115] Or _ba_.--ED.

The Egyptians called that which does not perish as the dying man draws

his last sigh, the _ka_, a term which M. Maspero has rendered as the

_double_. "This _double_ was a duplicate of the body in a matter less

dense than that of the body, a projection, coloured but aërial, of the

individual, reproducing him feature for feature, a child if coming

from a child, a woman if from a woman, and a man if from a man."[116]

[116] _Conférence_, p. 381. Mr. Herbert Spencer, in the first

chapters of his _Principles of Sociology_, has given a curious

and plausible explanation of how this conception of a _double_

was formed. He finds its origin chiefly in the phenomena of

sleep, of dreams, and of the faintness caused by wounds or

illness. He shows how these more or less transitory suspensions

of animation led men to suppose that death was nothing but a

prolonged interruption of life. He also thinks that the actual

shadow cast by a man's body contributed to the formation of that

belief. But had it no other elements which belonged to the

general disposition of humanity in those early periods of

intellectual life? Into that question we cannot enter here

further than to say that Mr. Spencer's pages make us acquainted

with numerous facts which prove that the beliefs in question

were not confined to a single race, but were common to all

humanity.

This _double_ had to be installed in a lodging suitable to its

existence, had to be surrounded by objects which it had used in its

former state, had to be supplied with the food which was necessary for

the sustenance of its life. And all these things it obtained from the

piety of its relations, who, on fixed days, brought them to the

threshold of the _good dwelling_ or the _eternal dwelling_, which were

the phrases used by the Egyptians.[117] By these offerings alone could

the hungry and thirsty phantom which had replaced the living man be

kept alive. The first duty of the survivors was to take care that this

dependent existence should not be extinguished by their neglect, to

provide food and drink for the support, if we may use such a phrase,

of the precarious life of the dead, who would otherwise be irritated

against them and use the almost godlike power attributed to his

mysterious condition for the punishment of his ungrateful

posterity.[118]

[117] This expression, which is very common in the Egyptian

texts, seems to have made a great impression upon the Greek

travellers. The following passage of DIODORUS is well known:

"This refers to the beliefs of the natives, who look upon the

life upon earth as a thing of minor importance, but set a high

value upon those virtues of which the memory is perpetuated

after death. They call their houses hotels, in view of the short

time they have to spend in them, while they call their tombs

their _eternal dwellings_" (i. 51).

[118] The dead were put under the protection of, and, as it

were, combined with, Osiris; they talked of _the Osiris so and

so_ in naming one who was dead.

This conception is not peculiar to Egypt. The _double_ of the Egyptian

sepulchral records corresponds exactly to the εἴδωλον[119] of

the Greeks and the _umbra_ of the Latins. Both Greeks and Latins

believed that when the funeral rites had been duly accomplished, this

image or shadow entered upon the possession of a subterranean dwelling

and began a life which was no more than the continuation of that in

the light.[120] The dead thus remained in close relation with the

living, on the one hand by the nourishment which they received, on the

other by the protection which they afforded; even in the funeral

repast they took their parts, in the strictest sense of the word, in

the eating and drinking.[121] They looked impatiently forward to these

supplies because, for a moment, they awoke their dormant thoughts and

feelings and gave them glimpses of the true life, the life above

ground and in the sunshine.[122] If they were kept waiting too long

they became angry and revenged themselves upon those who had caused

their sufferings. Woe to the family or city which was not careful to

interest the dead in its stability and thus to associate them with its

prosperity![123]

[119] Εἴδωλα καμόντων (_Il._ xxiii. 72; _Od._ xi. 476; xxiv.

14).

[120] This belief is clearly stated in a passage from Cicero

quoted by Fustel: "Sub terrâ censebant reliquam vitam agi

mortuorum" (_Tusc._ i. 16). This belief was so strong that it

subsisted even after the universal establishment of the custom

of burning the bodies of the dead.

[121] Texts to this effect abound. FUSTEL brought the more

remarkable of them together in his _Cité antique_ (p. 14). We

shall be content with quoting three: "Son of Peleus," said

Neoptolemus, "take this drink which is grateful to the dead;

come and drink this blood" (Hecuba, 536). Electra says when she

pours a libation: "This drink has penetrated the earth; my

father has received it" (Choephorœ, 162). And listen to the

prayer of Orestes to his dead father: "Oh my father, if I live

thou shalt have rich banquets; if I die thou wilt have no

portion of those smoking feasts which nourish the dead"

(Choephorœ, 482-484). Upon the strange persistence of this

belief, traces of which are still found in Eastern Europe, in

Albania, in Thessaly, and Epirus, the works of HEUZEY (_Mission

archéologique de Macédoine_, p. 156), and ALBERT DUMONT (_le

Balkan et l'Adriatique_, pp. 354-356), may be consulted. Some

curious details relating to the funeral feasts of the Chinese

are to be found in the _Comptes rendus de l'Académie des

Inscriptions_, 1877, p. 325. There are some striking points of

resemblance between the religion of China and that of ancient

Egypt; in both one and the other the same want of power to

develop may be found. Taking them as a whole, both the Chinese

and the Egyptians failed to emerge from the condition of

fetichism.

[122] In the eleventh book of the Odyssey it is only after "they

have drunk deep draughts of black blood" that the shades are

capable of recognising Ulysses, of understanding what he says

and answering. The blood they swallowed restored their

intelligence and powers of thought.

[123] The speeches of the Greek orators are full of proofs that

these beliefs had a great hold upon the popular mind, even as

late as the time of Demosthenes. In contested cases of adoption

they always laid great stress upon the dangers which would

menace the city if a family was allowed to become extinct for

want of precautions against the failure of the hereditary line;

there would then be some neglected tomb where the dead never

received the visits of gift-bringing friends, a neglect which

would be visited upon the city as a whole as the accomplice in

such abandonment. Such an argument and others like it may not

seem to us to be of great judicial value, but the talent of an

Isæus understood how to make it tell with an audience, or we

should not find it so often repeated in his pleadings (see G.

PERROT, _L'Éloquence politique et judiciare à Athènes. Les

Précurseurs de Demosthène_, pp. 359-364).

These beliefs seem to have been common to all ancient peoples during

that period of their existence which is lost in the shadow of

prehistoric times. From India to Italy all the primitive forms of

public and private rights betray their presence. For this fact and its

consequences we may refer our readers to the fine work of M. Fustel de

Coulange, _La Cité antique_.[124]

[124] Seventh edition, Hachette, 18mo., 1879.

[Illustration: FIG. 86.--Stele of the 11th dynasty. Boulak. Drawn by

Bourgoin.]

With the progress of centuries and the development of religious

thought, more elevated ideas prevailed. The growth of the scientific

spirit tended to make the notion of a being suspended between life and

death ever more strange and inadmissible. Experience accumulated its

results and it became daily more evident that death not only put an

end to the activity of the organs, but that, immediately upon its

occurrence, it began to dissolve and decompose their tissues. As time

rolled on men must have found it very difficult to believe in a shadow

thus placed outside the normal conditions of life, in a something

which was not a spirit and yet survived the destruction of its organs.

It would seem then that observation and logical reflection should soon

have led to the abandonment of a theory which now appears so puerile;

but, even in these scientific times, those whose intellects demand

well defined ideas are few indeed.[125] At a period when the diffusion

of intellectual culture and the perfection of scientific methods add

daily to our accumulations of positive knowledge, most men allow their

souls to be stirred and their actions to be prompted by the vaguest

words and notions; how much greater then must the influence of those

confused beliefs and baseless images have been in antiquity when but a

few rare minds, and those ill provided with means of research and

analysis, attempted to think with originality, clearness and freedom.

[125] Mr. Herbert Spencer, in his ingenious and subtle analysis

of _primitive ideas_ draws our attention to their frequent

inconsistencies and even positive contradictions; but he shows

us at the same time that the most highly civilised races in

these modern days admit and combine ideas which are logically

quite as irreconcilable as those which seem to us so absurdly

inconsistent when we think of the beliefs of the ancients or of

savage races. Custom renders us insensible to contradictions

which we should perceive at once were we removed to a distance

from them. (_The Principles of Sociology_, vol. i. pp. 119,

185).

The prestige of this illusion was increased and perpetuated by its

intimate connection with several of those sentiments which are most

honourable to human nature. Such a worship of the dead surprises and

even scandalizes us by its frank materialism, but if we seek for the

source of its inspiration and its primitive meaning, we find them in

the remembrance of lost objects of affection, in feelings broken by

the supreme separation, in the gratitude of children to the parents

who gave them birth and nourished their infancy, in the recognition by

the living of the blessings which they enjoy through the long and

laborious efforts of their ancestors. There was no doubt a perishable

element in the funerary ideas of Egypt, an element which the progress

of reason was sure to destroy, and we may be tempted to smile when we

think of the Greek or Egyptian giving himself the trouble to feed his

departed ancestors with blood, milk, or honey, but with all their

simplicity, both one and the other were alive to a truth which the

revolutionary spirit of our days, with its childish and brutal

contempt for the past, is often unable to grasp. They realized the

complete solidarity of one human generation with another. Guided by

their hearts alone they anticipated the results at which modern

thought has arrived by close and attentive study of history. From a

reasoned out conviction of this truth and its consequences, philosophy

now draws the principles of a high morality! but long before our days

this idea and the tender, grateful, sentiments which it provoked had

been a powerful instrument in the moral improvement of the first-born

of civilization and a bond of union for their civil and domestic life.

We have thought it right to dwell upon this worship of the dead and to

describe its character at some length, because the beliefs upon which

it was based are not to be found so clearly set forth in the art of

any other people. Their most complete, clear, and eloquent expression,

in a plastic form, is to be seen in the tombs which border the Nile.

And why is this so? It is because the Egyptian industries were already

in full possession of their resources at the period when those beliefs

had their strongest hold over the minds and feelings of the people. In

the case of Greece, art did not arrive at its full development until

the worship of the dead had lost its high place in the national

conscience. When the Greek genius had arrived, after much striving, at

its complete power of plastic expression, the gods of Olympus had been

created for several centuries, and art was called upon to interpret

the brilliant polytheism of Homer and Hesiod, to give outward image to

those gods, and to construct worthy dwellings for their habitation.

Sculptors, painters, and architects still worked indeed, at the

decoration of the tomb. They strove to give it beauty of shape and

arrangement, and to adorn its walls with bas-reliefs and pictures;

they designed for it those vases and terra cottas which, in our own

day, have been found in thousands in the cemeteries of Greece and

Italy, but all this was only a subordinate use of their talent. Their

ambition was to build temples, to model statues of Zeus, Pallas, and

Apollo. On the other hand, those distant ages in which primitive and

childish ideas of religion prevailed, had no art in which to manifest

their beliefs with clearness and precision.

It was otherwise in the valley of the Nile. A well provided industry

and an experienced art laid themselves out to interpret the popular

beliefs and to defend the dead against final dissolution, or the

agonies of hunger and thirst. Egypt did not differ from other nations

in its opinions upon the mystery of death. In the infancy of every

race the same notions on this matter are to be found, and in this

respect the only difference between the Egyptians and the rest of the

world is very much to the credit of the former; they rapidly attained

to a degree of civilization which was only reached by other races

after their religious development was comparatively mature. Thanks to

this advantage, they were enabled to push their ideas to consequences

which were not to be attained by tribes which were little less than

barbarous, and they had no difficulty in expressing them with

sufficient force and precision.

It remains for us to show the use which the Egyptians made of their

superiority in doing more honour to their dead, in guarding them more

safely against the chances which might shorten the duration or destroy

the happiness of their life in the tomb. The fulfilment of this duty

was, as the Greek travellers rightly affirmed, their chief

pre-occupation. Their sepulchral architecture was, of all their

creations, the most original and the most characteristic of their

genius, especially in the forms which we find in the cemeteries of the

Ancient Empire. In the time of the New Empire, at Thebes, it is less

complete and homogeneous. In the latter the arrangement and decoration

do not spring, as a whole, from a unique conception; we find traces in

it of new hypotheses and novel forms of belief. These do not supersede

the primitive ideas; they are added to them, and they bear witness to

the restless efforts made by human thought to solve the problem of

human destiny. These apparent contradictions and hesitations are of

great interest to the student of the Egyptian religion, but from the

art point of view the Memphite tombs are more curious and important

than those of later date. They have the great merit of being complete

in their unity both of artistic form and of intellectual conception.

They are the offspring of a single growth, and are perfect in their

clear logical expression. And again, they are the type of all the

later tombs, of those at Abydos, at Beni-Hassan, and at Thebes.

Certain details, indeed, are modified, but the general disposition

remains the same to the end. We shall, therefore, find the ruling

principle of Egyptian sepulchral architecture most clearly laid down

in the cemeteries of Gizeh and Sakkarah.

The first and most obvious necessity for the obscure form of life

which was supposed to commence as soon as the tomb had received its

inmate, was the body. No pains, therefore, were spared which could

retard its dissolution and preserve the organs to which the _double_

and the soul might one day return.[126] Embalming, practised as it was

by the Egyptians, rendered a mummy almost indestructible, so long, at

least, as it remained in the dry soil of Egypt. On the warm sands of

Sakkarah and close to the excavations from which the fellahs of the

_corvée_ were returning at the end of their day's labour, we--my

travelling companions and myself--stripped a great lady of the time of

Ramses of the linen cloths and bandages in which she was closely

enveloped, and found her body much in the same condition as it must

have been when it left the workshop of the Memphite embalmer! Her

black hair was plaited into fine tresses; all her teeth were in place

between the slightly contracted lips; the almond-shaped nails of her

feet and hands were stained with henna. The limbs were flexible and

the graceful shapes but little altered under the still firm and smooth

skin, which, moreover, seemed to be still supported by flesh in some

parts. Had it not been for its colour of tarred linen or scorched

paper, and the smell of naphtha which arose from the body and from the

numberless bandages which were strewn about, we might have shared the

sentiment attributed to Lord Evandale in Theophile Gautier's brilliant

_Roman de la Momie_; with an effort of good-will we could almost

sympathise with those emotions of tenderness and admiration which were

excited in the breast of the young Englishman at the sight of the

unveiled charms of that daughter of Egypt whose perfect beauty had

once troubled the heart of the proudest of the Pharaohs.[127]

[126] The texts also bear witness to the ideas with which the

complicated processes of embalming were undertaken. See P.

PIERRET, _Le Dogme de la la Résurrection_, &c., p. 10. "It was

necessary that no member, no substance, should be wanting at the

final summons; resurrection depended on that." "_Thou countest

thy members which are complete and intact._" (Egyptian funerary

text.) "Arise in To-deser (the sacred region in which the

renewal of life is prepared), thou august and coffined mummy.

Thy bones and thy substance are re-united with thy flesh, and

thy flesh is again in its place; thy head is replaced upon thy

neck, thy heart is ready for thee." (Osirian statue in the

Louvre.) The dead took care to demand of the gods "_that the

earth should not bite him, that the soil should not consume

him_." (MARIETTE, _Feuilles d'Abydos_.) The preservation of the

body must therefore have been an object of solicitude at the

earliest times, but the art of embalming did not attain

perfection until the Theban period. Under the ancient empire men

were content with comparatively simple methods. Mariette says

that "more examples would have to be brought together than he

had been able to discover before the question of mummification

under the ancient empire could be decided. It is certain, first,

that no authentic piece of mummy cloth from that period is now

extant; secondly, that the bones found in the sarcophagi have

the brownish colour and the bituminous smell of mummies.

"Not more than five or six inviolate sarcophagi have been found.

On each of these occasions the corpse has been discovered in the

skeleton state. And as for linen, nothing beyond a little dust

upon the bottom of the sarcophagus, which might be the _débris_

of many other things than of a linen shroud." (_Les Tombes de

l'Ancien Empire_, p. 16.)

[127] PASSALACQUA gives the following description of the mummy

of a young woman which he discovered at Thebes: "Her hair and

the rotundity and surprising regularity of her form showed me

that she had been a beauty in her time, and that she had died in

the flower of her youth." He then gives a minute description of

her condition and ornaments, and concludes by saying that "the

peculiar beauty of the proportions of this mummy, and its

perfect preservation, had so greatly impressed the Arabs

themselves that they had exhumed it more than once to show to

their wives and neighbours." (_Catalogue raisonné et historique

des Antiquités découvertes en Égypte_, 8vo. 1826.)

In order that all the expense of embalming should not be thrown away,

the mummy had to be so placed that it could not be reached by the

highest inundations of the river. The cemeteries were therefore

established either upon a plateau surrounded by the desert, as in the

case of Memphis and Abydos, or in the sides of the mountain ranges and

in the ravines by which they were pierced, as at Thebes and

Beni-Hassan. In the whole valley of the Nile, no ancient tomb has been

discovered which was within reach of the inundation at its

highest.[128]

[128] RHIND describes several mummy-pits in the necropolis of

Thebes which receive the water of the Nile by infiltration; but,

as he himself remarks, this is because those who dug them did

not foresee the gradual raising of the valley, and,

consequently, of the level attained in recent ages by the waters

of the Nile. It is doubtless only within the last few centuries

that the water has penetrated into these tombs. (_Thebes, its

Tombs and their Tenants_, p. 153.)

The corpse was thus preserved from destruction, first by careful and

scientific embalming, secondly by placing its dwelling above the

highest "Nile." Besides this we shall see that the Egyptian architects

made use of many curious artifices of construction in order to conceal

the entrance to the tomb, and to prevent the intrusion of any one

coming with evil intentions. All kinds of obstacles and pitfalls are

accumulated in the path of the unbidden visitor, with a fertility and

patient ingenuity of invention which has often carried despair into

the minds of modern explorers, especially in the case of the pyramids.

Mariette was fond of saying that there are mummies in Egypt which will

never, in the strictest sense of the word, be brought to light.

But in spite of all this pious and subtle foresight, it sometimes

happened that private hate or, more often, the greed of gain, upset

every calculation. Enemies might succeed in penetrating to the

sepulchres of the dead, in destroying their bodies, and thus

inflicting a second death worse than the first; or a thief might drag

the corpse from its resting place, and leave it naked and dishonoured

upon the sands, that he might, with the greater ease, possess himself

of the gold and jewels with which it had been adorned.

[Illustration: FIG. 87.--Mummy case from the 18th dynasty. Boulak.]

The liability of the mummy to accident had to be provided against. The

idea of the unhappy condition in which the _double_ would find itself

when its mummy had been destroyed, led to the provision of an

artificial support for it in the shape of a statue. Art was

sufficiently advanced not only to reproduce the costume and ordinary

attitude of the defunct and to mark his age and sex, but even to

render the individual characteristics of his physiognomy. It aspired

to portraiture; and the development of writing allowed the name and

qualities of the deceased to be inscribed upon his statue. Thus

identified by its resemblance and its inscriptions it served to

perpetuate the life of the _double_, which was in continual danger of

dissolution or evaporation in the absence of a material support.

The statues were more solid than the mummy, and nothing stood in the

way of their multiplication. The body gave but one chance of duration

to the _double_; twenty statues represented twenty chances more. Hence

the astonishing number of statues which are sometimes found in a

single tomb. The images of the dead were multiplied by the piety of

surviving relations, and consequently the _double_ was assured a

duration which practically amounted to immortality.[129]

[129] MASPERO, _Conférence_, p. 381.

[Illustration: FIG. 88.--Man and his wife in the style of the 5th

dynasty. Calcareous stone. From the Louvre.]

We shall see that a special recess was prepared in the thickness of

the built up portion of the tomb for the reception of wooden or stone

statues, so that they might be kept out of sight and safe from all

indiscreet curiosity. Other effigies were placed in the chambers of

the tomb or the courts in front of it. Finally, we know that persons

of consideration obtained from the king permission to erect statues in

the temples, where they were protected by the sanctity of the place

and the vigilance of the priests.[130]

[130] MASPERO, _Notes sur différentes Points de Grammaire et

d'Histoire_, p. 155. (In the _Recueil de Travaux relatifs à la

Philologie et à l'Archéologie Égyptienne et Assyrienne_, vol.

i.)

[Illustration: FIG. 89.--Sekhem-ka, his wife Ata, and his son Khnem,

in the style of the 5th dynasty. Limestone. From the Louvre.]

From the point of view of the ancient Egyptians such precautions were

by no means futile. Many of these effigies have come down to us safely

through fifty or sixty centuries and have found an asylum in our

museums where they have nothing to fear but the slow effects of

climate and time. Those which remain intact may therefore count upon

immortality. If the _double_ required nothing to preserve it from

annihilation but the continued existence of the image, that of

Chephren, the builder of the second great pyramid, would be still

alive, preserved by the magnificent statue of diorite which is the

glory of Boulak, and thanks to the durability of its material, it

would have every chance of lasting as long as the world itself. But,

unhappily for the shade of Pharaoh, this posthumous existence which is

so difficult of comprehension to us, was only to be prolonged by

attention to conditions most of which could not long continue to be

observed.

[Illustration: FIG. 90.--Stele of Nefer-oun. Boulak.]

It was entirely a material life. The dead-alive had need of food and

drink, which he obtained from supplies placed beside him in the

tomb,[131] and afterwards, when these were consumed, by the repasts

which took place periodically in the tomb, of which he had his share.

The first of these feasts was given upon the conclusion of the funeral

ceremonies,[132] and they were repeated from year to year on days

fixed by tradition and sometimes by the expressed wish of the

deceased.[133] An open and public chamber was contrived in the tomb

for the celebration of these anniversaries. It was a kind of chapel,

or, perhaps, to speak more accurately, a saloon in which all the

relations and friends of the deceased could find room. At the foot of

the stele upon which the dead man was represented sacrificing to

Osiris, the god of the dead, was placed a table for offerings, upon

which the share intended for the _double_ was deposited and the

libations poured. A conduit was reserved in the thickness of the wall

by which the odour of the roast meats and perfumed fruits and the

smoke of the incense might reach the concealed statues.[134]

[131] Jars, which seem to have been once filled with water, are

found in many tombs of all epochs. Different kinds of dates are

also found, together with the fruit of the sycamore, corn,

cakes, &c. See the _Catalogue_ of PASSALACQUA, pp. 123, 151, and

elsewhere. Quarters of meat have also been found in them, which

are easily recognised by their well-preserved bones.

[132] MASPERO, _Études sur quelques Peintures funéraires_, in

the _Journal Asiatique_, May-June, 1880, p. 387, _et seq._

[133] In one of the great inscriptions at Beni-Hassan, recently

translated anew both by M. Maspero and Professor Birch,

Chnoumhotep speaks thus: "I caused to prosper the name of my

father. I completed the existing temples of the Ka. I served my

statues at the great temples. I sacrificed to them their food,

bread, beer, water, vegetables, pure herbs. My priest has

verified (I chose a priest for the Ka,--Maspero). I procured

them from the irrigation of my work-people (I made him master of

fields and slaves,--Maspero). I ordered the sepulchral offerings

of bread, beer, cattle, fowl, in all the festivals of Karneter,

at the festivals of the beginning of the year, the opening of

the year, increase of the year, diminution of the year (little

year,--Brugsch and Maspero), close of the year, at the great

festival, at the festival of the great burning, at the festival

of the lesser burning, the five intercalary days, at the

festival of bread making (of the entry of grain,--Maspero) at

the twelve monthly and half monthly festivals, all the festivals

on the earth (plain), terminating on the hill (of Anubis). But

should my sepulchral priest or men conduct them wrongly may he

not exist, nor his son in his place."--BIRCH, _Records of the

Past_, vol. xii. p. 71.--ED.

[134] In each opening of the serdab in the tomb of Ti, at

Sakkarah, people, probably relatives of the deceased, are

represented in the act of burning incense in a contrivance which

resembles in form the θυμιατήριον of the Greek monuments.

(MARIETTE, _Notice des principaux Monuments de Boulak_, p. 27,

note 1.)

[Illustration: FIG. 91.--Preparation of the victims and arrival of

funeral gifts, 5th dynasty. Height of each band, 13-1/2 inches.

Boulak. Drawn by Bourgoin.]

The Egyptians did not trust only to the piety of their descendants to

preserve them from a final death by inanition in their neglected

tombs. At the end of a few generations that piety might grow cold and

relax its care; besides, a family might become extinct. All those who

could afford it provided against such contingencies as these by giving

their tombs what we now call a perpetual foundation. They devoted to

the purpose the revenues of some part of their property, which was

also charged with the maintenance of the priest or priests who had to

perform the ceremonial rites which we have described.[135] We find

that, even under the Ptolemies, special ministers were attached to the

sepulchral chapel of Cheops, the builder of the great pyramid.[136] It

may seem difficult to believe that a "foundation" of the ancient

empire should have survived so many changes of _régime_, but the

honours paid to the early kings had become one of the national

institutions of Egypt. Each restoring sovereign made it a point of

duty to give renewed life to the worship of those remote princes who

represented the first glories of the national history.

[135] See the paper by M. MASPERO upon the great inscription at

Siout, which has preserved for us a contract between Prince

Hapi-Toufi and the priests of Ap-Môtennou, by which offerings

should be regularly made to the prince's statue, which was

deposited in a temple at Siout. (_Transactions of the Society of

Biblical Archæology_, vol. vii. pp. 1-32.)

[136] It was the same in the case of a still older king,

Seneferu, the founder of the fourth dynasty. (DE ROUGÉ,

_Recherches sur les Monuments que l'on peut attribuer aux six

premières Dynasties de Manéthon_, p. 41.)

[Illustration: FIG. 92.--Table for offerings. Louvre.]

[Illustration: FIG. 93.--Another form of the table for offerings.

Boulak.]

Besides which there were priests attached to each necropolis, who,

for certain fees, officiated at each tomb in turn. They were

identified by Mariette upon some of the bas-reliefs at Sakkarah. Their

services were retained much in the same way as masses are bought in

our days.[137]

[137] _Tombes de l'Ancien Empire_, p. 87.

The same sentiment led to the burial with the dead of all arms,

clothes, jewels, and other objects of which they might have need in

the next life. We know what treasures of this kind have been obtained

from the Egyptian tombs and how they fill the cases of our museums.

But neither was this habit peculiar to Egypt. It was common to all

ancient people whether civilized or barbarous. Traces are to be found

even in the early traditions of the Hellenic race of a time when, like

those Scythians described by Herodotus,[138] the Greeks sacrificed, at

the death of a chief, his wives and servants that they might accompany

him to the next world. When she began to reveal herself in the arts

Egypt was already too far civilized for such practices as these;

thanks to the simultaneous development of science, art and religion,

she found means to give the same advantages to her dead without

permitting Scythian cruelties. Those personal attendants and domestic

officers whose services would be so necessary in another life, were

secured to them at a small expense; instead of slaying them at the

door of the tomb, they were represented upon its walls in all the

variety of their occupations and in the actual moment of labour. So

too with all objects of luxury or necessity which the _double_ would

wish to have at hand, as for instance his food and drink.[139]

[138] HERODOTUS, iv. 71, 72.

[139] In a few rare cases the objects destined for the

nourishment of the _double_ are represented in the round instead

of being painted upon the wall. In the tomb of the personage

called Atta, a wooden table, supporting terra-cotta vases and

plucked geese carved in calcareous stone, has been found.

(MARIETTE, _Tombes de l'Ancien Empire_, p. 17.) The vases must

have been full of water when they were placed in the tomb; the

stone geese may be compared to the _papier-mâché_ loaves of the

modern stage.

A custom which would seem to have established itself a little later

may be referred to the same desire; we mean the habit of placing in

the tomb those statuettes which we meet with in such vast numbers

after the commencement of the second Theban Empire.[140] Mariette

obtained some from tombs of the twelfth dynasty, and the sixth

chapter of the _Book of the Dead_, which is engraved upon them, seems

to be one of the most ancient. Egyptologists are now inclined to

believe that the essential parts of this ritual date back as far as

the Memphite period.

[140] All Egyptian collections contain coffers of painted wood,

often decorated in the most brilliant fashion, which served to

hold these statues when they were placed in the tomb. The size

and the richness of their ornament depended upon the wealth of

the deceased for who they were made.

[Illustration: FIG. 94.--Labourers heaping up ears of corn, from a

tomb at Gizeh. (_Description de l'Égypte._)]

These statuettes are of different sizes and materials. As a rule they

do not exceed from eight to twelve inches, but there are a few which

are three feet or more in height. Some are in wood, some in limestone,

and some in granite, but as a rule they are made of that kind of terra

cotta which, when covered with green or blue enamel, has been called

Egyptian porcelain. They are like a mummy in appearance; their hands

are crossed upon the breast and hold instruments of agriculture such

as hoes and picks, and a sack meant for grain hangs from their

shoulders. The meaning of all this is to be sought in the Egyptian

notions of a future life; it is also explained by the picture in

chapter XC. of the _Ritual_, which shows us the dead tilling, sowing

and harvesting in the fields of the other world. The texts of the

Ritual and of certain inscriptions call these little figures

_oushebti_ or _answerers_ from the verb _ousheb_, to answer. It is

therefore easy to divine the part attributed to them by the popular

imagination. They answered to the name traced upon the tomb and acted

as substitute for its tenant in the cultivation of the subterranean

regions.[141] With the help of the attendants painted and sculptured

upon the walls they saved him from fatigue and from the chance of

want. This is another branch of the same old idea. In his desire to

take every precaution against the misery and final annihilation which

would result from abandonment, the Egyptian thought he could never go

too far in furnishing, provisioning and peopling his tomb.

[141] PIETSCHMANN (_Der Egyptische Fetischdienst_, &c., p. 155),

has well grasped the character and significance of these

statuettes. Conf. PIERRET, _Dictionnaire d'Archéologie

égyptienne_, vol. v. See also, in connection with the

personality attributed to them and to the services which were

expected from them, a note by M. MASPERO, _Sur une Tablette

appartenant à M. Rogers_. (_Recueil de Travaux_, vol. ii. p.

12.)

[Illustration: FIGS. 95, 96.--Sepulchral statuettes, from the Louvre.]

The ingenuity of their contrivances is extraordinary. Food in its

natural state would not keep, and various accidents, might, as we have

shown, lead to the death of the _double_ by inanition. It was the same

with furniture and clothes; the narrow dimensions of the tomb,

moreover, would forbid the accumulation there of everything which its

sombre tenant might desire. On the other hand the funerary statuettes

were made of the most indestructible materials and the bas-reliefs and

paintings were one with the thick walls of stone or living rock. These

have survived practically unaltered until our day. We visited the tomb

of Ti a short time after its chambers had been opened and cleared. It

was marvellous to see how form and colour had been preserved intact

and fresh under the sand, and this work which was four or five

thousand years old seemed to be but lately finished. By the brightness

of their colours and the sharp precision of their contours these

charming reliefs had the effect of a newly struck medal. Such scenes

from the daily life of the people continued to be figured upon

Egyptian tombs from the old empire to the new. When their study and

comparison were first begun different explanations were put forward.

Some believed that they were an illustrated biography of the deceased,

a representation of his achievements or of those over which he had

presided during the course of his mortal life; others saw in them an

illustration of his future life, a setting forth of the joys and

pleasures of the Egyptian Elysium.

Both these interpretations have had to give way before the critical

examination of the pictures themselves and the decipherment of their

accompanying inscriptions. It was soon perceived, through comparisons

easily made, that these scenes were not anecdotic. On a few very rare

occasions they seem to be connected with circumstances peculiar to the

inhabitant of the tomb. There are a few steles and tombs upon which

the dead man seems to have caused his services to be described, with

the object, no doubt, of continuing in the next world his career of

honour and success in this. Such an inscription is so far

biographical, and a similar spirit may extend to the decorations of

the stele and walls of the tomb. As an example of such narrative

epigraphs we may cite the long inscription of Ouna, which gives us

the life of a sort of grand-vizier to the two first Kings of the sixth

dynasty;[142] also the inscriptions upon the tombs of those feudal

princes who were buried at Beni-Hassan. In the latter there are

historical representations as commentaries upon the text. Among these

is the often reproduced painting of a band of Asiatic emigrants

bringing presents to the prince and demanding, perhaps, a supply of

wheat in return, like the Hebrews in the time of Jacob.

[142] DE ROUGÉ, _Mémoire sur les Monuments des six premières

Dynasties_ (p. 80 _et seq._). Conf. MASPERO, _Histoire

Ancienne_, pp. 88-92.

[Illustration: FIG. 97.--Vignette from a Ritual upon papyrus, in the

Louvre. Chap. XC., 20th dynasty.]

But all this is exceptional. As a rule the same subjects occur upon

the tombs again and again, in the persistent fashion which

characterizes traditional themes. The figures by which the flocks and

herds and other possessions of the deceased were numbered are too

great for literal truth.[143] On the other hand the pictured tradesmen

and artificers, from the labourer, the baker, and the butcher up to

the sculptor, seem to apply themselves to their work with an energy

which excludes the notion of ideal felicity. They, one and all, labour

conscientiously, and we feel that they are carrying out a task which

has been imposed upon them as a duty.

[143] See MARIETTE, _Tombes de l'Ancien Empire_, p. 88.

For whose benefit do they take all this trouble? If we attempt to

enter into the minds of the people who traced these images and compare

the pictured representations with the texts which accompany them, we

shall be enabled to answer that question. Let us take by chance any

one of the inscriptions which accompany the scenes figured upon the

famous tomb of Ti, and here is what we find. "To see the picking and

pressing of the grape and all the labours of the country." Again, "To

see the picking of the flax, the reaping of the corn, the transport

upon donkeys, the stacking of the crops of the tomb." Again, "Ti sees

the stalls of the oxen and of the small animals, the gutters and

water-channels of the tomb."

It is for the dead that the vintage takes place, that the flax is

picked, that the wheat is threshed, that oxen are driven into the

fields, that the soil is ploughed and irrigated. It is for the supply

of his wants that all these sturdy arms are employed.

We shall leave M. Maspero to sum up the ideas which presided at the

construction of the Egyptian tomb, but first we must draw our

readers' notice to the fact that he, more than once, alludes to a

conception of the future life which differs somewhat from the early

Egyptian notions, and belongs rather to the Second Theban Empire and

its successors.

[Illustration: FIG. 98.--Arrival in Egypt of a company of Asiatic

emigrants (Champollion, pls. 362, 393).]

"The scenes chosen for the decoration of tomb walls had a magic

intention; whether drawn from civil life in the world or from that of

Hades, they were meant to preserve the dead from danger and to insure

him a happy existence beyond the tomb.... Their reproduction upon the

walls of the sepulchre guaranteed the performance of the acts

represented. The _double_ shut up in his σύριγξ[144] saw

himself going to the chase upon the surrounding walls and he went to

the chase; eating and drinking with his wife, and he ate and drank

with her; crossing in safety the terrible gulfs of the lower world in

the barque of the gods, and he crossed them in safety. The tilling,

reaping, and housing on his walls were for him real tilling, reaping,

and housing. So, too, the statuettes placed in his tomb carried out

for him under magic influence all the work of the fields, and, like

the sorcerer's pestle in Goethe's ballad, drew water for him and

carried grain. The workmen painted in his papyri made shoes for him

and cooked his food; they carried him to hunt in the deserts or to

fish in the marshes. And, after all, the world of vassals upon the

sides of the sepulchre was as real as the _double_ for which they

laboured; the picture of a slave might well satisfy the shadow of a

master. The Egyptian thought that by filling his tomb with pictures he

insured the reality of all the objects, people, and scenes represented

in another world, and he was thus encouraged to construct his tomb

while he was yet alive. Relations, too, thought that they were doing a

service to the deceased when they carried out all the mysterious

ceremonies which accompanied his burial. The certainty that they had

been the cause of some benefit to him consoled and supported them on

their return from the cemetery where they had left their regretted

dead in possession of his imaginary domain."[145]

[144] This word, σύριγξ (flute), was employed by the Greeks to

designate those long subterranean galleries cut in the rock of

the necropolis at Thebes, in the valley called the _Valley of

the Kings_; modern egyptologists apply it in a more general

sense to all tombs cut deeply into the flanks of the mountain.

For the reason which led the Greeks to adopt a term which now

seems rather fantastic, see PIERRET, _Dictionnaire d'Archéologie

égyptienne_. The chief passages in ancient authors in which the

term is applied either to the subterranean excavations of Egypt

or to other galleries of the same kind, are brought together by

Jomard in the third volume of the _Description_ (_Antiquités_,

vol. iii. pp. 12-14).

[145] _Journal asiatique_, May-June, 1880, pp. 419, 420.

Such a belief is astonishing to us; it demands an effort of the

imagination to which we moderns are in no way equal. We have great

difficulty in realising a state of mind so different from what ours

has become after centuries of progress and thought. Those early races

had neither a long enough experience of things, nor a sufficiently

capable power of reflection to enable them to distinguish the possible

from the impossible. They did not appreciate the difference between

living things and those which we call inanimate. They endowed all

things about them with souls like their own. They found no more

difficulty in giving life to their carved and painted domestics, than

to the mummy or statue of the deceased, or to the phantom which they

called the double. Is it not natural to the child to take revenge upon

the table against which he hurts himself, or to speak tenderly to the

doll which he holds in his arms?

[Illustration: FIG. 99.--The tomb of Ti; women, representing the lands

of the deceased, carrying the funeral gifts.]

This power to endow all things with life and personality is now

reserved for the poet and the infant, but in the primitive days of

civilization it belonged to all people alike. Imagination had then a

power over a whole race which in our days is the gift of great poets

alone. In the efforts which they made to forestall the wants of the

helpless dead, they were not content with providing the food and

furniture which we find upon the walls. They had a secret impression

that these might be insufficient for wants renewed through eternity,

and they made another step upon the way upon which they had embarked.

By a still more curious and still bolder fiction than those which had

gone before, they attributed to prayer the power of multiplying, by

the use of a few magic sentences, all objects of the first necessity

to the inhabitants of the tomb.

Every sepulchre has a _stele_, that is to say, an upright stone tablet

which varied in form and place in different epochs, but always served

the same purpose and had the same general character. Most of these

steles were adorned with painting and sculpture; all of them had more

or less complicated inscriptions.[146] In the semicircle which forms

the upper part of most of these inscribed slabs, the dead person,

accompanied by his family, presents offerings to a god, who is usually

Osiris. Under this an inscription is carved after an unchanging

formula: "Offering to Osiris (or to some other deity, as the case may

be) in order that he may give provision of bread, liquid, beef, geese,

milk, wine, beer, clothes, perfumes, and all good and pure things upon

which the god subsists, to the ka of N..., son of M...." Below this

the defunct is often shown in the act of himself receiving the

offerings of his family. In both divisions the objects figured are

looked upon as real, as in the wall decorations. In the lower division

they are offered directly to him who is to profit by them; in the

upper, the god is charged to see that they are delivered to the right

address. The provisions which the god is asked to pass on to the

defunct are first presented to him; by the intervention of Osiris the

_doubles_ of bread, meat and drink pass into the other world to

nourish the double of man. But it was not essential for the gift to be

effective that it should be real, or even _quasi_-real; that its image

should even be given in paint or stone. The first-comer could procure

all things necessary for the deceased by their enumeration in the

proper form. We find therefore that many Egyptians caused the

following invocation to passing strangers, to be engraved upon their

tombs:

[146] See above, Figs. 87 and 91.

"Oh you who still exist upon the earth, whether you be private

individuals, priests, scribes, or ministers entering into this tomb,

if you love life and do not know death, if you wish to be in favour

with the gods of your cities and to avoid the terrors of the other

world, if you wish to be entombed in your own sepulchres and to

transmit your dignities to your children, you must if you be scribes,

recite the words inscribed upon this stone, or, if not, you must

listen to their recital: say, offering to Amen, master of Karnak, that

he may give thousands of loaves of bread, thousands of jars of drink,

thousands of oxen, thousands of geese, thousands of garments,

thousands of all good and pure things to the _ka_, or _double_, of the

prince Entef."[147]

[147] We borrow the translation of this inscription, as well as

the reflections which precede it, from M. MASPERO (_Conférence_,

p. 382). According to M. de Rougé, it dates from about the

twelfth dynasty. An invocation of the same kind is to be found

in another epigraph of the same period, the inscription of

Amoni-Amenemhaït, hereditary prince of the nome of Meh, at

Beni-Hassan. See MASPERO, _La Grande Inscription de

Beni-Hassan_, p. 171 (_Recueil de Travaux_, etc., vol. i.

4to.).

Thanks to all these subtle precautions, and to the goodwill with which

the Egyptian intellect lent itself to their bold fictions, the tomb

deserved the name it received, the _house of the double_. The

_double_, when thus installed in a dwelling furnished for his use,

received the visits and offerings of his friends and relations; "he

had priests retained and paid to offer sacrifices to him; he had

slaves, beasts of burden, and estates charged with his support. He was

like a great lord sojourning in a strange country and having his wants

attended to by intermediary officials assigned to his service."[148]

[148] MASPERO, _Conférence_, p. 282.

This analogy between the house and the tomb is so complete that it

embraces details which do not seem very congruous. Like the house of

the living, the tomb was strictly oriented, but after a mystic

principle of its own.

As soon as the Egyptian began to think he perceived the most obvious

of the similarities between the sun's career and that of man. Man has

his dawn and his setting. Man grows from the early glimmerings of

infancy to the apogee of his wisdom and strength; he then begins to

decline and, like the magnified evening sun, ends by disappearing

after his death into the depths of the soil.

In Egypt the sun sets every evening behind the Libyan chain; thence he

penetrates into those subterranean regions of Ament across which he

has to make his way before the dawn of the next day. The Egyptian

cemeteries were therefore placed on the left bank of the Nile, that

is, in the west of the country. All the known pyramids were built in

the west, and there we find all the more important "cities of the

dead," the necropolis of Memphis and those of Abydos and Thebes. A few

unimportant groups of tombs have indeed been found upon the eastern

bank; but these exceptions to a general rule are doubtless to be

explained by a question of distance. For any city placed near the

eastern border of the wider parts of the Nile valley, a burying-place

in the Libyan chain would be very inconvenient both for the transport

of the dead, and for the sepulchral duties of the survivors.[149]

[149] Among the cemeteries of the right bank we may mention that

of Tell-el-Amarna; where the tombs would have been too far from

the city had they been dug in the Libyan Chain. The cemeteries

of Beni-Hassan and of Eilithyia (_El-Kab_) are also in the Arab

Chain. In spite of these exceptions, however, the west was the

real quarter of the dead, their natural habitation, as is proved

by the tearful funeral songs translated by M. MASPERO: "The

mourners before the ever-to-be praised Hor-Khom say, 'O chief,

as thou goest toward the West, the gods lament thee.' The

friends who close the procession repeat, 'To the West, to the

West, oh praiseworthy one, to the excellent West!'" MASPERO,

_Étude sur quelques Peintures funéraires_ (_Journal asiatique_,

February-April, 1881, p. 148).

Each morning sees the sun rise as youthful and ardent as the morning

before. Why then should not man, after completing his subterranean

journey and triumphing over the terrors of Ament, cast off the

darkness of the tomb and again see the light of day? This undying hope

was revivified at each dawn as by a new promise, and the Egyptians

followed out the analogy by the way in which they disposed their

sepulchres. They were placed in the west of their country, towards the

setting sun, but their doors, the openings through which their inmates

would one day regain the light, were turned to the east. In the

necropolis of Memphis, the door of nearly every tomb is turned to the

east,[150] and there is not a single stele which does not face in that

direction.[151] In the necropolis of Abydos, both door and stele are

more often turned towards the south, that is towards the sun at its

zenith.[152] But neither at Memphis, at Abydos, nor at Thebes is there

a tomb which is lighted from the west or presents its inscription to

the setting sun.[153] Thus, from the shadowy depths where they dwell,

the dead have their eyes turned to that quarter of the heavens where

the life-giving flame is each day rekindled, and seem to be waiting

for the ray which is to destroy their night and to rouse them from

their long repose.[154]

[150] "It is so," says Mariette, "four times out of five." (_Les

Tombes de l'Ancien Empire_, in the _Revue archéologique_, new

series, vol. xix. p. 12).

[151] "In the further wall of the chamber, and _invariably

facing eastwards_, is a stele." (_Ibidem_, p. 14.)

[152] MARIETTE, _Abydos_, vol. ii. p. 43.

[153] The tombs in the Arab Chain form, of course, an exception

to this rule. The unusual circumstances which took them eastward

of the river forced them also to neglect the traditional law.

[154] The symbolic connection established by man between the

course of the sun and his own life was well understood by

Champollion, who used it to explain the paintings in the royal

tombs at Thebes. (See his remarks on the tomb of Rameses V. on

the 185th and following pages of his _Lettres d'Égypte_, &c.)

The ideas and beliefs which we have described were common to all

Egyptians, irrespective of class. When he felt his last hour

approaching, the humble peasant or boatman on the Nile was as anxious

as Pharaoh himself to insure the survival of his double and to guard

against the terrors of annihilation:

... Mais, jusqu'en son trépas,

Le riche a des honneurs que le pauvre n'a pas.

[Illustration: FIG. 100.--Lid of the coffin of Entef, 11th dynasty.

Louvre.]

Those who, when alive, had to be content with a hut of earth or of

reeds, could not, when dead, expect to have a tomb of stone or brick,

a habitation for eternity; they could not look for joys in the other

world which they had been unable to procure in this. So that such

tombs as those which most fully embodied the ideas we have described

must always have remained the exclusive privilege more or less of the

governing classes. These consisted of the king, the princes and

nobles, the priests, the military chiefs, and functionaries of every

kind down to the humblest of the scribes attached to the

administration. As for those Egyptians who did not belong to this

aristocracy, they had to be content with less expensive arrangements.

The less poor among them at least took measures to be embalmed and to

be placed in a coffin of wood or _papier-mâché_, accompanied by

scarabs and other charms to protect them against malignant spirits.

The painted figures upon the coffin also helped to keep off evil

influences. If they could afford it they purchased places in a common

tomb, where the mummies were heaped one upon the other and confided to

the care of priests who performed the funerary rites for a whole

chamber at once.[155] It was the frequent custom to put with the dead

those pillows of wood or alabaster which the Egyptians seem to have

used from the most ancient times for the support of their heads in

sleep. This contrivance, which does away with the necessity for

continually rearranging their complicated head-dress, is still used by

the Nubians and Abyssinians.

[155] Upon the papyrus known as the _Papyrus Casati_, mention is

made of a priest who is charged to watch over a whole collection

of mummies.

"This is the list of bodies belonging to Osorvaris:--

"Imouth, son of Petenefhotep, his wife and children;

"Medledk, the carpenter, his wife and children;

"Pipee, his wife and children, from Hermouth;

"The father of Phratreou, the fuller;

"Aplou, the son of Petenhefhotep the boatman, his wife and

children, from Thebes;

"Psenmouth, the carpenter, his wife and children;

"Psenimonthis, the mason;

"Amenoth, the cowherd."

There are many more lists of the same kind. The above is cited

from M. E. LE BLANT (_Tables égyptiennes à Inscriptions

grecques_, p. 6, 1875, 8vo.).

[Illustration: FIGS. 101, 102.--Scarabs. Louvre.]

[Illustration: FIGS. 103, 104.--Funerary amulets. _Oudja_ and _ta_.

Louvre.]

But those who could procure even these slight advantages were still

among the favourites of fortune. Many were unable to obtain even this

minimum of funeral honours. On the confines of all the great

cemeteries, at Thebes as well as at Memphis, corpses are found

deposited in the loose sand two or three feet from the surface. Some

of these are packed in the leaves of the palm, others are roughly

enveloped in a few morsels of linen. They have been hastily dipped in

a bath of natron, which has dirtied rather than embalmed them.[156]

Sometimes even these slender precautions have been omitted. Bodies

have been found in the earth without vestige of either coffin or linen

swathes. The sand seems to have been intrusted with the work of drying

them, and they have been found in our days in the condition of

skeletons.

[156] See in the interesting work of Mr. H. RHIND (_Thebes, its

Tombs and their Tenants_, London, 1862, 8vo.), the chapter

headed _A Burial-place of the Poor_.

[Illustration: FIG. 105.--Pillow, Louvre.]

On the other hand, the fortunate ones of the world, those who were so

easy in their circumstances in this life that they could place

themselves in the same happy condition in the next, spared no expense

in anything connected with their burial. They never allowed themselves

to be surprised by death, as we so often do. Whether kings or private

individuals, they made their preparations while they were still alive,

and caused their tombs to be constructed under their own eyes.[157]

Their forethought when living and the piety of relations spared

nothing that could add to the beauty and convenience of dwellings

which were to be the eternal resting places of their inmates. The

palaces of the princes and rich men of Egypt were so lightly built

that they have left no traces upon the soil; but many of their tombs

have subsisted uninjured to our day, and it is from them that we have

obtained our treasures of Egyptian art. All the other nations of the

ancient world followed the good example thus set, or rather, to speak

more accurately, being all penetrated with similar ideas, they took

similar courses without borrowing one from the other. Whenever we

moderns have opened any of those ancient tombs which have happily

remained intact, we have been met by the same discoveries. Whether it

be in Egypt or Phœnicia, in Asia Minor, Cyprus or Greece, in

Etruria or Campania, the same astonishing sight meets our eyes. The

tombs are filled with precious objects and _chefs d'œuvres_ of art

which their depositors had intended never again to see the light of

day.

[157] MARIETTE, _Tombes de l'Ancien Empire_, p. 83. See also the

great inscription of Beni-Hassan, the first lines of which run

thus: "The hereditary chief ... Khnumhotep ... has made a

monument for the first time to embellish his district; he has

sculptured his name for ever; he has embellished it for ever by

his chamber of Karneter; he has sculptured the names of his

household; he has assigned their place. The workmen, those

attached to his house, he has reckoned amongst his dependants of

all ranks." [BIRCH, _Records of the Past_, vol. xii. p.

67.--ED.] It was, no doubt, in order to conform to the Egyptian

custom that Antony and Cleopatra commenced in their lifetime

that tomb which Augustus ordered to be finished after their

death (SUETONIUS, _Augustus_, 17). "To be laid to rest in the

tomb which he had made for himself and furnished with every

necessary was the greatest good which the gods could insure to

an Egyptian. In Papyrus IV. at Boulak we find the following

phrases: 'Be found with thy dwelling finished in the funerary

valley: in every enterprise which thou meditatest _may the

morning when thy body shall be hid be present to thee_.'" (From

the French of M. MASPERO, _Journal asiatique_, 7th series, t.

xv. p. 165, note 1.)

In modern times, when piety or pride stimulates to the decoration of a

tomb, all the care of the architect, the sculptor and the painter is

given to the outside, to the edifice which surmounts the actual grave.

The grave or other receptacle for the coffin is as plain and simple in

the most sumptuous monuments of our cemeteries as in the most humble.

Our funerary architecture is based upon our belief that the tomb is

empty; that the vital part of the deposit confided to it has escaped

to rejoin the current of eternal life. Under such conditions the tomb

becomes above all things a commemorative structure, a more or less

sincere manifestation of the grief of a family or of society at large

for the loss of one of its members. As for the narrow pit into which

the "mortal coil" is lowered, all that we demand of it is that it

should be deep enough and properly closed. Art makes no attempt to

illumine its darkness. She leaves to workmen the task of excavation

and of building its walls and confines herself to the visible parts of

the tomb. The dead within furnishes the pretext for her activity, but

it is the admiration of the living that is her real incentive.

The ideas of the ancients on this matter were, as we have seen, very

different. They looked upon the tomb as an inhabited house; as a house

in which the dead was to lead some kind of existence. Rich men wished

their tombs to look well outside, even to the distant spectator, but

it was to the inside that their chief attention was turned. They

wished to find there all the necessaries, the comforts, the luxuries,

to which they had been accustomed during life. So we find that the

Egyptians, the Greeks or the Etruscans, were willing enough, when they

built their own tombs or those of their relations, to throw a

_tumulus_ of earth above it, or, later, a constructed building which

was conspicuous at a distance. In those sepulchres which were cut out

of the side of a mountain, the fronts were carved with frieze,

pediment and columns into the shape of a regularly constructed

portico; but the chief object of solicitude to the proud possessor of

such a tomb, was its internal furnishing and disposition. For him

there was no removal should he be discontented with his lodging. When

a man is condemned by illness or accident to keep his room, he takes

care to surround himself with everything that he may want. He gathers

immediately about him all the comforts and luxuries which he can

afford; and death is an illness from which there is no recovery.

Impelled by such ideas as these, the ancients filled their tombs with

precious objects and decorated them with sumptuous art, all the more

that they seemed well guarded against intrusion for the sake of gain.

Thus the Achæans of Mycenæ (if that be the proper name of those

mysterious people) buried, in the sepulchres discovered by Dr.

Schliemann, the innumerable objects of gold and silver which now fill

the museum of Athens; thus the tombs of Bœotia were filled with

those marvels of grace and delicate workmanship, the terra cottas of

Tanagra; and those of Etruria and Campania with the most beautiful

painted vases ever produced by Greek taste.

Identity of religious conception thus led, from end to end of the

antique world, to funerary arrangements which bore a curious

resemblance one to another, so that sepulchral architecture among the

ancients had, as a whole, a very different character from that of the

moderns. This character is more strongly marked in Egypt than anywhere

else, and therefore we have studied it in detail. The general

observations to which it has given rise have been made once for all,

and we shall not have to repeat them when we describe the funeral

customs of other ancient peoples. We shall then confine ourselves to

pointing out the slight differences which naturally spring up in the

several interpretations of a common belief.

We have still to show how the varying circumstances of time and place

caused the Egyptian tomb to pass through certain modifications of form

and decoration, which, however, were never of so radical a nature as

to affect its general appearance and arrangement. Until Egypt became a

mere geographical expression and her venerable civilization lost its

independence and originality, these latter remained practically

unchanged.

§2.--_The Tomb under the Ancient Empire._

Among the tombs which date from the time of the ancient empire, the

most interesting to the traveller are, of course, the Pyramids. Long

before his arrival at Cairo he sees the summits of those artificial

mountains rising into the air above the vapours raised by the sun, and

above the dust thrown up by the teeming population of the city. At

that distance their peaks seem light and slender from their height

above the horizon (Plate I. 2).

The tourist's first visit is paid to the Pyramids, and many an

European leaves Egypt without seeing any other ancient building. He

thinks that he has qualified himself to discourse upon Egyptian

architecture because a few shouting Arabs have landed him, exhausted,

upon the topmost stone of the pyramid of Cheops, and have painfully

dragged and thrust him along those passages of the interior which will

ever be among his most disagreeable recollections. During all this his

eyes and thoughts are entirely given to the preservation of his own

equilibrium, and he sees nothing of the real constitution of the

structure he has come to visit.

In spite of the wonderful panorama which repays the fatigues of the

ascent, and of the overpowering impression made upon the mind by their

colossal mass, the Pyramids, as we see them to-day are far from being

the most complete and interesting of the sepulchral monuments left to

us by the early dynasties. The largest and best preserved are not so

old as some of the tombs in the necropolis of Memphis, and, royal

burying-places as they are, their arrangement and ornamentation are

less rich and expressive than those of many sepulchres built by

private individuals. Many of the latter, in their comparatively

restricted dimensions, answer better to the definition of a tomb

suggested to us by our study of the national beliefs.

We shall, therefore, reserve the Pyramids for future treatment, and in

our review of the successive forms taken by sepulchral architecture,

we shall assign the first place to those private tombs, dating from

the Ancient Empire, which are to be found in the necropolis of

Memphis. Notwithstanding a few differences, to which we shall refer

hereafter, these tombs, as a whole, can be traced to a single type, of

which Lepsius was the first to perceive the interest.[158] This type,

which was first clearly brought to light by the many and deep

excavations carried out by Mariette, has been known for some years

past by the Arab term _mastaba_,[159] which means literally a _bench_,

a bench of stone or wood. This name was given by the labourers

employed upon the excavations, and seemed well adapted to their long

and low shapes, which bear some resemblance to those divans, or

ottomans, which are found in every room of an oriental dwelling.

Mariette was struck by the fitness of the expression, and used it ever

after to designate that particular kind of tomb.

[158] _Briefe aus Ægypten_, p. 23 _et seq._ Before the Prussian

commission left Middle for Upper Egypt they had studied 130

private tombs, of which the principal ones are figured in the

_Denkmæler_.

[159] Lexicographers do not seem to know the origin of this

word; they believe it to be foreign, perhaps Persian.

Mariette will be our constant guide in this part of our study. After

having opened many hundreds of these monuments, he published in

the _Revue archéologique_, what we may call a _theory of the

mastaba_.[160] In all essential matters we shall allow his words to

speak for themselves; when he enters into more detail than is

necessary for our purpose, we shall content ourselves with epitomizing

his descriptions.

[160] Vol. xix. (1869), pp. 1-22 and 81-89.

THE MASTABAS OF THE NECROPOLIS OF MEMPHIS.

The space over which the monuments which we propose to describe are

spread, is on the left bank of the Nile, and extends from _Abou-Roash_

to _Dashour_; it is thus, in all probability, the largest cemetery in

the world, being more than fifteen miles in length, and of an average

width of from two to two and a half miles.[161] It was, in a word, the

burial-place for Memphis and its suburbs, and Memphis seems to have

been the largest city of Egypt, and to have boasted an antiquity which

only Thinis could rival. Excavations have failed, apparently, to

confirm the assertion of Strabo, who describes the early capital of

Egypt as reaching to the foot of the Libyan chain. On the contrary, it

seems to have been confined between the canal which is called the

_Bahr Yussef_ and the Nile. It would thus have formed a very long and

rather narrow city, close upon the river, of which the site may still

be traced by the more or less barren hillocks strewn with blocks of

granite and fragments of walls, which crop up from the plain between

Gizeh and Chinbab. For forty centuries there was a continual

procession of corpses from Memphis itself, and probably from towns on

the other side of the Nile, such as Heliopolis, to the plateau which

lies along the foot of the Libyan chain. The formation of this plateau

makes it peculiarly well adapted for the purpose to which it was put.

It consists of a thick bed of soft limestone, covered by a layer of

sand which varies in depth from many yards to a few feet according to

the inequalities of the ground beneath it.

[161] EBERS (_Ægypten_, p. 137) gives this necropolis a length

of more than forty-five miles, but in making it extend to

Meidoum he seems to be exaggerating.

It was easy, therefore, either to lay bare the rock and to construct

the tomb upon it, or to dig the mummy pits in its substance, and the

winds might be trusted to quickly cover the grave with sand which

would protect it when made. The same sand covered the coffinless

corpse of the pauper with its kindly particles. Age after age the dead

were interred by millions in this great haven of rest. At first there

was plenty of room, and the corpses were strewn somewhat thinly in the

sand,[162] but with time economy of space had to be practised, until

at last bodies were squeezed into the narrowest spaces between older

inhabitants. Sometimes these new comers even intruded into the tombs

of those who had gone before them, and that without always troubling

themselves to conceal their usurpation by effacing the name of the

rightful owner.[163]

[162] Upon the plateau which, at Sakkarah, extends westwards of

the stepped pyramid the manner in which the necropolis was

developed can be readily seen. In walking eastwards, that is,

from the pyramid towards the cultivated land, we pass a first

zone of tombs which date from the Ancient Empire, a second which

possesses sculptures of the twenty-sixth dynasty, and a third

which dates from the Greek period.

[163] We may quote as an interesting example of such usurpation

the Theban tomb first opened by a Scottish traveller, HENRY

RHIND, to whose interesting work (_Thebes, its Tombs and their

Tenants, Ancient and Present, with a Record of Excavations in

the Necropolis_, Longman, 1862, 8vo.) we shall often have to

refer. This tomb seems to have been made in the reign of

Amenophis III. by a brother and sister whose statues were found

in it, but it also contained Sebau, son of Menkara, a high

official of the time of the Ptolemies, with his wife and all his

family (c. iv.).

The number of tombs was increased to a prodigious extent by the

non-employment of those family tombs which, as we shall see, were made

use of by the Phœnicians, the Greeks, and the Etruscans. The

Egyptian sepulchre was a personal appanage. The husband and father of

a family admitted into it only his wife and such of their children as

died young. The son, when he in turn became the head of a family,

built a tomb for himself. Each generation, each human couple marked

their passage through the world by the erection of a new tomb.

All the _mastabas_ belong to the period of the Memphite empire. Those

who built them were able to give free play to their fancies, and to

develop the structure, both above and below ground, both in

arrangement and in decoration, to any extent they pleased. We may

therefore look upon them as the freest, the most spontaneous, and the

most complete expression of the ideas formed by the men of that remote

age concerning death and the life beyond the grave.

The mastabas of Sakkarah will receive most of our attention, and in

describing them we shall often have occasion to quote the words of

Mariette.[164] Those which are to be found in the more northern part

of the necropolis, in the neighbourhood of the Great Pyramid, differ

only in unimportant details from those at Sakkarah. The general

appearance now presented by these monuments may be guessed from the

sketch which M. Bourgoin has sent us of the tomb of Sabou (Fig. 106).

The other mastabas figured by us have all been more or less restored.

[164] MARIETTE (_Voyage dans la haute Égypte_, p. 32) thought

that the word Sakkarah was an ancient name derived from

_Socharis_, a Memphite form of _Osiris_.

"The _mastaba_ is a massive structure, rectangular on plan, with four

faces of plain walling, each being inclined at a stated angle towards

their common centre. This inclination has led some people to assert

that it is nothing more than an unfinished pyramid. Such an idea is

refuted, however, by the fact that the divergence from the

perpendicular is in some cases so slight that, were the walls

prolonged upwards, their ridges, or _arêtes_, would not meet for some

eight or nine hundred yards. The mastaba might be more justly compared

to the space comprised between two horizontal sections of an obelisk,

supposing the obelisk to have an oblong base.

[Illustration: FIG. 106.--Actual condition of a mastaba. The tomb of

Sabou. Drawn by Bourgoin.]

"The major axis of the rectangle upon which these structures are

planned, always runs due north and south, and at the pyramids of

Gizeh, the necropolis of the west, they are arranged upon a

symmetrical plan so as to resemble a chess board on which all the

squares are strictly oriented.[165] The more carefully built mastabas

are oriented according to the true astronomical north. All the others

show the same intention, and, in those instances where an error of a

few degrees is to be discovered, it is to be clearly attributed to

carelessness on the part of the builder, a common fault in these

tombs, and not to a difference of intention. We often find that the

northern face is not strictly parallel to the southern, nor that on

the west to that on the east.

[165] The way in which the mastabas were arranged with respect

to each other is well shown in plates xiv. and xviii. of

Lepsius's first volume (map of the pyramids of Gizeh and

panorama taken from the summit of the second pyramid).

[Illustration: FIG. 107.--Three mastabas at Gizeh. Perspective view,

after the plan of Lepsius. (_Denkmæler_, vol. i. pl. 24.)]

"Although not varying much from true orientation, the mastabas of

Sakkarah are not arranged with the symmetry which distinguishes those

on the south and west of the Great Pyramid.[166] They are sprinkled

about in a rather haphazard fashion. Here we find them well

interspaced and there actually placed one upon another. It follows

that the chess-board arrangement which is so conspicuous at Gizeh is

not here to be noticed. Even at Sakkarah there were streets between

the rows of tombs, but they are so irregularly placed, and they are

often so narrow, many of them being nothing more than blind alleys,

that the inexperienced visitor may well fancy himself in a maze.

[166] The general aspect of this city of the dead, and the

regularity of its monuments, made a great impression upon the

members of the "Institut d'Égypte." The following are the words

of JOMARD (_Description_, vol. v. p. 619): "From the top of the

building one sees an infinite quantity of the long rectangular

structures extending almost to the Pyramids. They are carefully

oriented, and exactly aligned one with another. I counted

fourteen rows of them, in each direction, on the west of the

Great Pyramid, and as many on the east, making nearly four

hundred in all. The sand under which many of them are buried

leaves their forms easily distinguishable." Since the time of

Jomard many of the mastabas have been changed by the excavations

into mere formless heaps of _débris_, and yet the general

arrangement can still be clearly followed.

"The Sakkarah mastabas are built either of stone or brick.

"The mastabas of stone are of two kinds: those of a very hard blue

siliceous limestone and those of a softer chalky limestone which is

found upon the spot. This latter stone was used for the Stepped

Pyramid. The tombs upon which it was used seem to be much the oldest

in the necropolis; they are also the least rich and important.

[Illustration: FIG. 108.--Restoration of part of the Necropolis of

Gizeh.]

"Our general notion of Egyptian architecture would lead us to look for

the use of huge stones in these mastabas, and, in fact, certain

important monuments, such as the _Mastabat-el-Faraoun_, and parts of

important monuments, such as the Temple of the Sphinx and the passages

and chambers of the greater pyramids, were constructed of very large

blocks. But the Sakkarah architects were more modest. Apart from the

ceilings, architraves and other places where big stones were

necessary, the blocks are of an average height of about half a yard,

with a proportionate length and thickness.

"The brick-built sepulchres are of two kinds also. The more elaborate

are of black brick, while a yellowish brick is used for the others.

The yellow bricks are a mixture of sand and pebbles with a little

clay; the black bricks are of earth and straw. The former are always

small (8·8 in. x 4·4 in. x 2·8 in.); the latter are comparatively

large (15·2 in. x 7·2 in. x 5·6 in.). Both kinds are dried simply in

the sun. The yellow bricks seem to be the more ancient. Their

employment begins and ends with the Ancient Empire. The black bricks,

on the other hand, appear for the first time about midway through the

fourth dynasty. At first they were rarely employed, but under the

eighteenth dynasty and those which followed it, they came to be

exclusively used."

[Illustration: FIG. 109.--The Mastabat-el-Faraoun.]

All these mastabas, whether of brick or stone, betray an amount of

negligence in their construction which is astonishing. Considering the

ideas which the Egyptians had formed of a future life, the chief

preoccupation of their architects should have been to give a stability

to their sepulchres which would have insured their perpetuity, and,

with it, that of the deposit committed to their charge. The whole of

our description will be pervaded by accounts of the minute precautions

devised to that end. "Now these mastabas are constructed with care on

their outsides alone. The core of their walls is composed of sand, of

rubbish, of blocks of stone mingled with the flakes struck off by the

masons, and all this in most cases without any cement to give it

coherence. The mastabas of Sakkarah are not homogeneous constructions

of masonry and cement, like the pyramids and most of the mastabas of

Gizeh. They are confused heaps of ill assorted materials, which would

collapse but for the retaining strength of their covering of solid

stone.

"At Sakkarah the outward faces of the mastaba are not smooth. Each

successive course is slightly set back from the one below it. At Gizeh

the walls form a smooth plane gently inclined from the perpendicular.

"There are mastabas of all sizes. That of Sabou measures 172 feet by

84; that of Ha-ar, 149 by 74; that of Ra-en-ma 169 by 81, and that of

Hapi no more than 25 ft. 6 in. by 19 ft. 6 in. In height they vary

less. The highest are not more than from 26 to 30 ft. high, the

smallest about 12."

[Illustration: FIG. 110.--Entrance to a Mastaba at Sakkarah.

Mariette.]

The roof of the mastaba is a plain surface without irregularity of any

kind; but the soil above it is sprinkled with vases buried at a slight

depth. These vases are pretty evenly distributed, but they are rather

more numerous in that part of the soil which covers the ceilings of

the chambers, a circumstance of which Mariette often made use to guide

him in his excavations. Like all the vases of this epoch, those which

are found upon the roof of the mastabas are roughly made, pointed at

the bottom and without handles. They each contain a thin film of

yellow clay deposited by the water with which they were filled. They

were placed in their curious position under the notion that the water

which they contained would quench the thirst of the dead man below.

The mouths of the jars were covered with flat stones, and the water

would last long enough to satisfy at least the immediate necessities

of the inhabitant of the tomb.

"The principal face of the mastaba is turned to the east. In four

cases out of five the entrance to its chambers, when there is one, is

found upon this face. The general arrangement is, almost always, as

follows: 1. At a few metres distance from the _north-eastern_ angle we

come upon a quadrangular niche or recess, very high and very narrow,

in the depths of which those long vertical grooves which distinguish

the steles of this epoch are carved upon the actual masonry of the

tomb. For this recess an unimportant stele, with or without

inscription, is occasionally substituted, or (2) we find, at a few

metres distance from the _south-eastern_ angle, either a deeper,

larger, and more carefully built recess, in the depths of which a

monolithic stele of white limestone covered with hieroglyphs is

placed; or a regular architectural façade in miniature with a door in

the centre. When the recess is found near the southern angle of the

eastern face, the tomb begins and ends there. It has no internal

chamber, or rather, the recess acts as substitute for one. But when,

instead of the niche or recess, we meet with a door, we then know that

we have come upon a regularly completed tomb. The name of its

proprietor is often carved upon the lintel. Several of these lintels,

of a peculiar shape, are to be seen in the Louvre.

[Illustration: FIG. 111.--Lintel of the tomb of Teta, 6th dynasty.

Louvre.]

"Next after the eastern face, in relative importance, comes that which

is turned to the north. When the entrance is in the northern wall the

door is invariably at the back of a kind of vestibule, in front of

which are two monolithic columns, without base or capital, supporting

the architrave which, in turn, supports the roof.

"Still more seldom than in the northern face, the entrance is

occasionally found upon that which is turned to the south. This

exceptional arrangement is, in most instances, caused by some local

circumstance which may readily be perceived. When the entrance is on

the south its arrangement is sometimes the one, sometimes the other,

of the two which we have described.

"As for the western face, we have no evidence that it ever played any

more ambitious _rôle_ than that of completing the inclosure. It is

always destitute of both openings and ornaments."

We have thus explored, with Mariette, the outside of the mastaba. We

have described its form and general aspect, we have noticed the

materials of which it was constructed, the principles upon which it

was oriented, and its average size. We have explained, too, how this

single type of sepulchre was repeated many thousands of times with but

slight variations, until, upon the plateau between Memphis and the

desert there gradually arose a metropolis of the dead more populous

than that of the living. It remains to describe the contents of those

huge blocks of masonry. We shall begin by visiting the chambers

planned by the architect in the building itself; we shall afterwards

penetrate, by the paths which modern curiosity has established through

the _débris_ of ages and the depths of the soil, to those recesses of

the tomb which were meant to be for ever inaccessible.

The interior of a mastaba is composed of three parts--the chamber, the

_serdab_, and the well. The last-named of the three is the only part

which is never wanting. Many of the mastabas are, in fact, solid. In

them the chamber is in a very rudimentary condition, being represented

merely by one of those external niches which Mariette has described.

This arrangement was the earliest, and, as long as the mastaba

continued to be built, the less ambitious tenants of the necropolis

were contented to reproduce it. But in these pages, as in a natural

history, it is important to study the species when fully developed and

provided with all its organs. When we have clearly established a

general type nothing is more easy than to recognise and point out its

variations. It suffices to say here that some tombs are wanting in

one, some in another of those constituent parts whose meaning and uses

we shall attempt to determine, and that, in a few, they are of an

unaccustomed importance.

It is natural that we should first turn our attention to the chamber.

This was a kind of neutral ground upon which the quick and the dead

could meet, the former to present, the latter to receive the funeral

offerings.

"The interior of a mastaba may be divided into several 'chambers'

(there are three in the tomb of Ti), but generally there is only one.

It is entered by the door in the middle of the _façade_.

"These chambers have, as a rule, to depend upon the door for light,

but there are a few instances in which they are lighted from openings

in the roof. A remarkable example of the latter arrangement is to be

seen in the tomb of Ti, where the innermost chamber, which otherwise

would be in complete darkness, is lighted from the roof.

"The chamber is sometimes quite bare, sometimes covered with

sculptures and paintings such as those whose character and meaning we

have already pointed out. At its further end, and always facing

eastwards, stands the inscribed tablet or stele. There are some

chambers in which the walls are bare and the stele engraved, but there

are none where the walls are carved and the stele plain."

[Illustration: FIG. 112.--Plan of the tomb of Ti.]

[Illustration: FIGS. 113, 114.--Mastaba at Sakkarah, from Prisse.]

In the tomb of Ptah-Hotep, of which we reproduce the principal side,

the stele proper is on the left, but the figures and the funerary

inscriptions cover all the central part of the richly decorated wall

(Fig. 115).

We see, then, that the stele is the one indispensable part of this

complicated whole. It was, in fact, upon the formula with which it was

inscribed, that the Egyptians depended for those magical agencies by

which Osiris became the active medium of transmission between the

living and the dead.

"At the foot of the stele there was often a table for offerings,

in granite, alabaster, or limestone. This was laid flat upon the

ground (Fig. 92).

[Illustration: FIG. 115.--Western wall in the chamber of the tomb of

Ptah-Hotep, 5th dynasty. Drawn by Bourgoin.]

"As a rule this was the only piece of furniture in the chamber; but

occasionally we find, on each side of the stele and always placed upon

the ground, either two small limestone obelisks, or two objects in

that material resembling table legs hollowed out at the top for the

reception of offerings."

This chamber was left open to every comer. The entrance was in fact

left without a door. To this rule Mariette found but two exceptions in

the many hundreds of tombs which he examined.[167]

[167] One of these exceptions is furnished by the tomb of Ti, of

which we shall often have to speak (Fig. 114). The large public

hall near the entrance to the tomb was separated from the two

chambers farther in by a corridor closed at two points by doors,

some remains of which were found in place when the tomb was

opened.

"Not far from the chamber, oftener on the south than the north, and

oftener on the north than the west, a passage in the masonry, high,

narrow, and built of very large stones, is found. The workmen employed

upon the excavations christened it the _serdab_, or corridor, and

their name has been generally adopted."[168] In Figs. 116-119 we give

the plan and three sections of a mastaba at Gizeh which has four

serdabs.

[168] This is a word of Persian origin adopted by the Arabs. Its

strict meaning is a dark subterranean opening, cave, or

passage.

"Sometimes the serdab has no communication with the other parts of the

mastaba, it is entirely walled in, but in other instances there is a

narrow quadrangular opening, a sort of pipe or conduit, which unites

the serdab with the chamber. It is so small that the hand can only be

introduced into it with difficulty.[169]

[169] The tomb of Ti had two serdabs as well as three chambers;

one of these was close to the door, the other in the innermost

part of the mastaba. In the latter several statues of Ti were

found, the best preserved being now in the museum at Boulak.

"The use of the serdab is revealed by the objects which have been

found in it; it was to hold one or more statues of the deceased. The

Egyptians believed these statues to be the most certain guarantees,

always with the exception of the mummy itself, of a future life for

the dead. Hidden from sight in their dark prison, they were protected

from all violence, while they were separated only by a few stones from

the chamber where the friends and relations met together, and the

conduit by which the intervening wall was often pierced, allowed the

smell of fruit and incense and the smoke of burnt fat to come to their

nostrils.[170]

[170] In a Theban tomb described by M. MASPERO (_Étude sur

quelques Peintures funéraires_) the tenant, Harmhabi, is made to

speak thus: "I have come, I have received my bread; joining the

embalmed offerings to my members, I have breathed the scent of

the perfumes and incense." It is also possible that this conduit

may have been intended to permit of the free circulation of the

_double_, to allow it to pass from its supporting statues to the

chapel in which it is honoured. This curious idea, that the

spirit of the dead can pass through a very small hole, but that

it cannot dispense with an opening altogether, is found among

many nations. The Iroquois contrived an opening of very small

diameter in their tombs, through which the soul of the dead

could pass and repass. See HERBERT SPENCER, _Principles of

Sociology_, vol. i. p. 192.

[Illustration: FIG. 116.--Plan of a mastaba with four Serdabs.

(Lepsius, i., pl. 24.)]

[Illustration: FIG. 117.--Longitudinal section of the same mastaba.]

"No inscriptions have been found in a serdab except those upon the

statues. And no objects other than statues have ever been found in a

serdab." So that the function of the serdab was to afford a safe and

final asylum to the statues. These were, no doubt, to be found in

other situations also, because, not to mention the numerous

bas-reliefs upon which the figure of the deceased appeared in the

chamber or in the niche which sometimes took its place, he was

sometimes portrayed in high relief, and of full life size, in the

public hall of the tomb.[171] Sometimes, also, we find a statue in one

of those front courts which, especially at the time of the fourth

dynasty, seem to have been in great favour. But this court, as well as

the chamber, was open to every chance passer by, and the statues

which they both contained were in continual danger from careless or

malicious hands. It was to guard against such chances as these that

the inventive architects of Egypt contrived a safe retreat in the

heart of the massive structure which should provide a reserve of

statues against every contingency. When all those which were exposed

to accident should have perished, these would still survive and would

furnish to the _double_ the material support, the tangible body, to

which that phantom was obliged to attach himself unless he wished to

perish entirely.

[171] There is an example of this in a mastaba at Gizeh (Fig.

120). See No. 95 of LEPSIUS (_Denkmæler_, vol. i. p. 29; vol.

iii. pl. 44).

[Illustration: FIG. 118.--Transverse section through the chamber.]

These precautions were not ill conceived. The serdab kept efficient

guard over its deposit; the museum of Boulak contains at least a

hundred statues from the ancient empire which were found at Sakkarah,

and nine-tenths of them were found in the serdabs.

[Illustration: FIG. 119.--Transverse section through the serdabs.]

We have now described all those parts of the tomb which were above

ground. We have not been content with visiting the chamber only, which

was freely left open, we have penetrated into the farthest recesses,

and have discovered those secrets of the massive walls which their

constructor thought to hide for ever from the eye of man. But even yet

we have not arrived at the actual place of burial; we shall reach it,

however, through our third internal division, the well or pit.

"The well is an artificial excavation, square or rectangular in plan,

never round, at the bottom of which is the chamber in which the mummy

is deposited.

"To arrive at the opening of the well, we must mount to the platform,

or roof, of the mastaba (Fig. 122). As there was never any staircase

to a mastaba either within or without, it will be seen that the well

must have been a very inaccessible part of the tomb." In one single

instance, namely, in the tomb of Ti, the well is sunk from the floor

of the largest of the internal chambers, but whether it opened upon

the roof or upon the floor of the chamber, it was always closed with

the utmost care by means of a large flat stone.

[Illustration: FIG. 120.--Figures in high relief, from a mastaba at

Gizeh, 5th dynasty (from Lepsius).]

"The well is generally situated upon the major axis of the mastaba,

and, as a rule, nearer to the north than to the south. Its depth

varies, but, on an average, it is about forty feet. Now and then,

however, it has a depth of sixty-five or even eighty feet. As the well

begins at the platform and ends in the rock-carved mummy chamber, it

follows that it passes vertically first through the mastaba, secondly

through the rock upon which the mastaba is founded. The built part of

the well is carefully constructed of large and perfect stones, and in

this we find one of the distinguishing characteristics of the tombs of

the ancient empire." In the tomb of Ti the well takes the form of an

inclined plain like a passage in the pyramids. In the common form of

well the mummy pit could only be reached by means of ropes.

"When the bottom of the well is reached a gaping passage is seen in

the rock which forms its southern wall. This passage, which is not

high enough to allow one to walk upright, does not run quite parallel

to the axis of the mastaba. It is directed obliquely towards the

south-east, like the chamber above. Suddenly it becomes enlarged into

a small cavern, which is the mortuary chamber properly speaking, that

is to say, the room with a view to which the whole structure has been

planned and to which all its other parts are but accessories.

"This mortuary chamber is vertically under the public hall above, so

that the survivors who came together in the latter for the funeral

ceremonies had the corpse of the deceased under their feet, at a

distance which varied according to the depth of the well."

[Illustration: FIG. 121.--The upper chamber, well, and mummy

chamber.[172]]

[172] This figure is a composition by Mariette for the purpose

of showing the relation between the subterranean and constructed

parts of the tomb. (_Notice des principaux Monuments_, p. 22.)

[It shows, however, the well opening from the floor of the upper

chamber, an arrangement which is not characteristic of the

mastaba.--ED.]

The mortuary chambers are large and carefully built, but generally

without ornament or inscription. Of all those explored by him Mariette

found but one which had its walls ornamented; in the middle of its

decorations, which he does not describe, he contrived to make out a

few phrases which seemed to belong to the _Ritual of the Dead_.

The sarcophagus was placed in one corner of the chamber. It was

generally of fine limestone, sometimes of red granite, and on a few

occasions of opaque black basalt. It was rectangular on plan with a

round-topped lid squared at the angles.

Mariette found none at Sakkarah with inscriptions. On the other hand

we find them upon the sarcophagus at Khoo-foo-Ankh, which was

discovered at Gizeh and belongs to the fourth dynasty (Figs. 123,

124).

[Illustration: FIG. 122.--Double mastaba at Gizeh, transverse section

(from Lepsius, t. i., pl. 22).]

"The Egyptians did not always trust to the mere size and weight of the

lid for the secure closing of the sarcophagus. The under-side of the

cover is made with a rebate at its edge which fits into a

corresponding groove on the upper edge of the sarcophagus, and the two

edges were bound still more tightly together by a very hard cement.

Finally, as if all these precautions were not enough, wooden bolts

were affixed to the under-side of the lid which fitted into slots in

the sarcophagus and helped to render the two inseparable."

So far as we can judge from the few human remains which have been

gathered from these ancient tombs, the process of embalmment was then

carried on in simple and elementary fashion, and it was this

imperfection that the Egyptians attempted to neutralize, by the

innumerable and complicated precautions which they took to insure that

the corpse should not be disturbed in its envelope of stone. In later

times, when the preparation of the mummy was better understood, they

were not so careful to seal up the sarcophagus from the outer air.

"The furniture of the mummy chamber comprised neither statues, nor

funerary statuettes, nor amulets of any kind. Sometimes a few ox bones

bestrew the ground. Two or three large and pointed red vases,

containing nothing but a thin deposit of clay, rest against the walls.

Within the sarcophagus we find the same sobriety of sepulchral

furniture. Beyond a wooden or alabaster pillow (Fig. 105) and half a

dozen little drinking cups of alabaster, nothing has been found there

but the mummy itself."

[Illustration: FIG. 123.--Sarcophagus of Khoo-foo-Ankh. Perspective

after Bourgoin. Red granite. Height 1·33 metres. Boulak.]

These beef bones must be the remains of the quarters of meat which

were placed in the tomb for the nourishment of the dead. No scene is

more frequently represented upon the walls of the public chamber of

the mastaba than the killing and flaying of victims for the funeral

ceremonies (Fig. 125). Like those which are found upon the roof, the

vases must have held water for the double. The pillow was placed under

the head of the mummy, it was the one he had used during his life. As

for the drinking cups, their use has not yet been determined, so far

as we know.

"As soon as the mummy was in the sarcophagus, the sarcophagus sealed,

and the various objects which we have described in place, the opening

at the bottom of the well was walled up; the well itself was filled

with stones, earth, and sand, and the dead was left to his eternal

sleep."[173] These precautions make it no easy thing to reach the

mummy chamber. To find the entrance to the well is the first

difficulty, and when it is found, many hands and no little time are

required to remove the rubbish with which it is filled. The only

mechanical helps which the Egyptians have ever used in such work are

those which we ourselves have seen in the hands of Mariette's

labourers, namely, the wooden shovel and the little rush basket which

is filled with a few handfuls of sand and pebbles, and then carried on

the head to be emptied at a convenient distance. It may be guessed how

many journeys to and fro have to be made before a few cubic yards of

_débris_ are cleared by such means as this!

[173] The broken up and decayed remains of wooden boats have

been found in two or three mummy pits (MARIETTE, _Les Tombes de

l'Ancien Empire_, p. 17). They originally formed part, perhaps,

of the boats upon which the corpse was transported across the

Nile to the nearest point of the western bank to the tomb. There

can be no doubt that, in placing them in the well, the survivors

believed that they were serving the deceased. Both the

bas-reliefs in the tomb and the _Ritual_ contain many

representations of the soul navigating the regions of Ament (see

the upper section of Fig. 98). In certain Theban tombs, models

of fully rigged boats have been found; there are some of them in

the Louvre (_Salle Civile_, case K). [There are two in the

British Museum, and one, a very fine one, in the museum at

Liverpool.--ED.]

[Illustration: FIG. 124.--Details of the Sarcophagus of

Khoo-foo-Ankh.]

[Illustration: FIG. 125.--Bas-relief from Sakkarah. Boulak.]

We have so far followed Mariette, and have frequently had to make use

of his _ipsissima verba_. To his pages and to the plates of the great

work of Lepsius, we must refer those readers who are not contented

with being told general rules but wish to know the exceptions also. We

shall not go into all the changes which variety of taste and the

progress of art introduced into the arrangement and decoration of

Egyptian buildings; they do not affect the general statements which we

have made. We shall not re-state the evidence which enabled Mariette

to apportion the 142 painted and sculptured mastabas explored by him

in 1869, to the first six dynasties. It is certain that those

monuments form a chronological series extending over a space of from

twelve to fifteen centuries, and that during the whole of that long

period, the general character of Egyptian sepulchral architecture

remained unchanged.

We should here, perhaps, in order to make our description complete,

attempt to convey a true idea of the reliefs which cover the sides of

the chamber, and of the statues which fill the serdab. We should,

perhaps, by a judicious choice of examples, endeavour to estimate

their style and composition; but we shall postpone all such

examination until we come to treat of sculpture, and of the way in

which the earliest Egyptian artists treated the human form. A didactic

and analytic method is so far despotic that it compels us, in order to

marshal our facts and to make them easily understood, to separate

phenomena which are intimately connected, and to destroy the unity of

natural groups. We have thus been driven to separate the figured

decorations of the tomb from the architectural arrangements which

enframe and support them; with the latter, alone, are we now

concerned.

We may sum up the foregoing details by the following general

description of the Egyptian tomb as it was established in the early

ages of the national life, in those years when the national

civilization put on the form and colour which it retained until the

last days of antiquity.

This tomb, when complete, included (1) a built up part which, being

raised well above the surface of the soil, was a conspicuous object in

the landscape; and (2) a subterranean part cut in the living rock

which was never more than a few feet below the surface of the sand.

The constructed part inclosed a chamber which was sometimes internal

and sometimes external, a chamber in which the relations of the

deceased deposited the funeral offerings, and in which the priests

officiated before the stele, to which the most conspicuous place was

always given. Sometimes this chamber is nothing more than a recess in

the _façade_, a mere frame for the stele. The structure also contains

a retreat in its thickness where the statues of the deceased were

walled up. The subterranean part is composed of the well and the mummy

chamber. The well is sunk from different parts of the building;

usually traversing its whole depth; it leads to the mummy chamber

which is found at varying depths in the bowels of the earth.

Such are the constituent elements of the _mastaba_, that is to say, of

those private tombs which were contemporary with the Pyramids. All

over Egypt, in every one of the cemeteries, no matter where they are

situated or what their date, the same elements are to be found,

modified in certain particulars by the rank of the deceased, by the

nature of the soil, by the size of the tomb, and by the changes of

fashion, but always to be easily recognized. Of all these elements

there is but one which does not persistently reappear in monuments

other than the mastaba, and that is the _serdab_. This retreat for

statues has not, as yet, been found in any of the royal tombs of the

first six dynasties, neither has it been met with in the tombs of the

two Theban empires, or of later epochs. And yet it was connected with

one of the most vital hopes of the Egyptian religion. It fulfilled in

the happiest manner, one of the conditions imposed upon the Egyptian

architect by the strange conceptions of a future life which we have

described. Why then do we, as a rule, find the serdab only in the

mastabas of the Memphite necropolis? Its absence under the Theban

princes is, perhaps to be explained by the progress made in the

science of embalming. The heads of more than one mummy have now been

exhibited in the cases of European museums for many years, and, in

spite of the dampness of our climates, they still preserve their skin,

their teeth and their hair (Fig. 126). When they had learnt the secret

of preserving the body from corruption, so that after a long series of

centuries it should be pretty much in the same condition as on the day

after death, they did not indeed, cease to make those images which

were supposed to guard the _double_ from annihilation, but they

attached less importance to their safety, and took less trouble to

hide them. They considered that they had done enough for their

preservation by putting them in the precincts of their tombs and

temples, and so under the guardianship of their venerated religion.

As for the other parts of the tomb, a little attention will always

suffice for their identification even in those sepulchres which differ

most from the mastaba. In some instances we shall find the mummy

chamber contrived in the upper structure, in others the whole tomb is

cut in the living rock. Sometimes we find the chapel, as we may call

the public chamber in which the miraculous nourishment of the _double_

took place, more or less distantly separated from the mummy chamber;

sometimes the well almost disappears, sometimes it ceases to be

vertical and becomes a long corridor with but a gentle slope. As a

rule all these variations are easily explained, and may be connected

without difficulty with that primitive type which we have attempted to

define by its most wide-spread and constant features.

[Illustration: FIG. 126.--Head of a Mummy. Louvre.]

A History of Art in Ancient Egypt, Vol. 1 (of 2) · 第 4 / 8 章