4 V XT* ■ ■ ■ f i ■ M » n GOVERNMENT OF INDIA ASCHiCOLOGlOAL SURVEY OF INDU CENTRAL ARCHiEOLOGICAL LIBRARY •JElBUIIi ■ ita i • iii ■ s ■ ACCESSION CALL No. r *vvw*,f ii ' 1 4 m 0^0 OwO -■_*'- ^ nmxxn xrrmxooc BSHinSli ■ ■ f I ■ ■ ■ I iMJQXMajLLLBJ m E ZE IE ram MI HlIOHira i fnr t I irwf i i Mi ■ i «■ i ■ yii m m an ■ ■ bii m ■ ifi m m. ggi a i m m ^ iV4 •! ■?!<* -ytr *g4C *?iy *?«<* *: :■ 1 1 ■ ■■ rri mmwmu mTTwm-mwwwrrwwi imnillHQDIHlIIlHIIKMlM I T ■ ■ ■ 1 1 ■ ■ ■ n ■ ■ ■ n ■ ■ ■ rrg-M M ! t yM~M: 1 I \ A THE TOMB OF TUT-ANKH-AMEN mSCOFERED BY THE LATE EARL OF CARNARVON AND HOfVARD CARTER Si" By HOWARD CARTER A. C. MACE-- ^ 17094 Volwne I 'ith l04 iUittirathtu /rem Phoioffritph HARRY BURTON {0/ UtinfalUtM Stmimt pfAn, Hm f«rA) 9/3 - 32- Carf- CASSELL AND COMPANY, LTD ,^4, — LoadoD, Toronto, Melbourne and Sydney ^ Fini jutilLBbcd SmfftuiM i92& 9WIUL ARCHikEOLO0ta4t UflRA»Y» MLW D£UU. Am. M* i 7c PHmi4d m ^rm Dedication l^ith the full sympathy of my rotleborator, i ATr* Mace^ I dedt^ale this accounf%f the discowry < if -t* i of the romh of Tut •unkh^Amcn to the memory of ^ 7ny beloved friend and toUeogue LORD CARNARVON , J uifto died in the hour of bis triumph. ^ But for his untiring generosity and constmt ■ ezu»iirtk^innMX out labours could never htwe been * ^ j] cmcned toirh success, llis jttdgment in mcieni art has rarely been equally, tih efforts^ which 7 I V V k ftdiie doM so muck to ejtscnd our of Egyptology^ wilt ever be honoured in history^ and by me his memory itdil always be cheruhed* PREFACE TnS narrative of the discovery of the tomb of Tubankli-Amen is merely preUminary j a final record of purely sdeuJiBc nature will take some time, nor can it be adequately made until the work of investigation of the tomb and its vast material has been completed. Nevertheless, in view of the public interest in our discovery* we fdt tiiat some account witliout loss of time, no matter how summary, was necessary, and that is the reason for the publication of this book- We have here for the first time, a royal burial very little disturhed in spite of the hurried plun¬ dering it has suffered at the hands of the ancient tomb-robbers, and within the shrines of the tomb- chamber I believe the Pharaoh lies intact, in alt his royal magnificence. It lias been suggested by certain Egyptologists that we should write up in the summer, and puhiisb at once, all we have done in the winter. But there is, outside the stress of work and otlicr duties, a strong reason against this. Our work will take several seasons of concentrated labour on our discovery — the tomb, of tlie contents of which we are making as faithful a record as possible. If, following the advice of our critics, we were to write up our progress in detail before our work could be collated in its entirety, mistakes would necessarily creep in which, when once made, would be hard to rectify. We therefore ven- vii Preface turc to liopo tliot the inctliod wc tifivc odopted is more In the interest of seientiiic accuracy! less likely to give rise to esroncous impressions. Nor are warnings wanting against undue haste. For instance, we bear in mind the vault containing the cache of Mlven- Aten found in this Valley. The account of this important and interesting discoveiy was hurriedly published and announced as the tomb of Queen Tyi, whereas, after more careful investigation, only one Object b that magnificent fmd, the so-called canopy, vrhidi apparejitty liad had an extra ordinary mduence on the minds of its discoverers and recorders, could be claimed as possibly belonging to that queen. Such mLstakes as these we wish to avoid. Moreover, as we have as yet seen only one quarter of the contents of tins tomb, m this prdiminaiy account we venture to claim the bdulgence of the reader. He will under¬ stand that it must be subject to possible future cor¬ rection m accoidance with tlic nature of facts revealed b\' the furtlier progress of our w'ork. JMien, by the dim light of a candle, we made the cursory examination of the jinteclmmbcr, we thought that one of the caskets (No. tOl) wmtabed later, under the rays of a power- ftd electric bglit, these proved to be rolls of Iben, which had even then some resemblance to rolls of I^p.VTi. This was naturally disappointing, and gave rise to rile sugg^tion that the Imtorical harvest, cornered with the artistic value of our discovery, will be unimportant because of the lack of literal evid^cc eoQcenung King Tubankli..4men and the political confusion of his time. “1?“.'*=™ *■«««' ‘I'flt thee chemben do not represent the actual tomb of the king but that I tM ■^ui Preface Horcni'heb, Tut^OBkh^Amen’s second successor^ had probably usurped his real tomb and hurriedly placed his fumituro In the chambers of this vault. Nor is tills all. It lias also been said tliat it was merely a caclie, and further it has even more improbably been conjectured that the objects found therein were a col¬ lection of palace furniture, Ijelonging to the dj-nasty. and hidden there as Tut-ankh-Ameo was the last of Uiat royal line, and that of tliese many >rcre of Mesopotamian origin. I may perhaps be pardoned for here observing that these criticisms have been advanced by authors who liave never seen the tomb, let alone its contents. Now in reply to these objections I would here say that so far as we have gone we Imve found nothing that should not belong to tlie Cxmerary equipment of the king. All tlic objects are in perfect k^ping w'ith the evidence and knowledge gleaned from llie fragmentary mat<a:inl of the royal tombs of the New Empire discovered in this V^ley, and they are in every way pure late Eighteenth Dynasty Egyptian. That this discovery is the real tomb of Tut' onkh-Amcn, there can, I tliink, be no doubt, but it must be remembered that, like the tomb of Ay, his immediate successor, it i& of semi-royal and senii- privatc type. In fact it is rather the sepwlclire of a |K)Ssible heir to the throne than tliat of a king. A comparison of Uie tomb plan ivith that of the tombs of the kings' mothers, Uie kings’ wives, and tlie kings' cliildrcD, in The Valley of the Queens, and witli the tombs of Ids predecessors and successors in The Valley of the Kings will, I think, show this. From its style of work and certain idiosyncrasies Preface obsen'able, it is not improbable that it inras made hv tlie same liand as the vault that contained tlie transtported burial of Akli'cn'Aten whidi is in its near vicinity. The plan of that vault closely resembles the tomb of Tut'ankb-Amenj and botU are alike variants of the plan and principles of the tombs of tlic Theban monarchs of the Empire. The apparent curtailment of design in the Akh-en-Aten vault — it having alone the one completed chamber — prob¬ ably due to its being nuuie for a cache bo reedve nothing but the revered mummy vdtli a few essentials belonging to its burial. It may be for that reason tliat we hnd only tlic first chamber — the Antechamber — ^prepared and plastered to reedve those remains. It should also be noticed that in the right hand wall of this one eliainbcr the ancient Egyptian mason commenced a second room, which now» in its incomplete state, suggests a niche ; but on comparing it wiU) the grave of Tut^ankh^Amen the idea and Uie intention become obvious — ^it was to be a seputdiraJ hall. In other words, in the design tiiere is a certain aMnity with the tomb of Akh’ en'Atcn at El Amama, and the vault devised for a cache in this Valley for that so-called heretic king, and also with tlie tom1>s of Tut'ankleAinen and Ay^ which is peculiar to that El Amama branch of the Djmasty. With them we also find the finest art of the Imperial Age in Egypt, and also the germ of its decadence which made itself mcuiifest in the succeed¬ ing Nineteenth B^mAsty, It was King Ay, Tut-ankli'Anieti’s successor, who buried our monarcli, for there, on the inner w^s of Tut 'ankh* Amends tomb-chamber. Ay, as king has caused himself to be rcprcsentcct among the religious Preface BcenesJ, officiating before Tut-ankh-Amai— a scM^e unprecedented in the royal tombs of this nccropoUs* It were, perhaps, well at this point to say some¬ thing concerning the mcntahty of the ancient Egyp - iana as manifested in their art, wliid^ is elo^ly associated with thdr teUgion. If study the MCient Egyptian religious ideas we may be absorbed by the ^rious medley of their mythology, yet in end we shall fed that we Itavc progressed beyond Uicm* if once we have acquired the power of admin^ a^ understanding their art, we do not, for the most par^ entertain this assurance of aesthetic progre^ and superiority. Perhaps we may do so in minor detwis, but no s^ible person wiU ever imagine that he has got beyond the essentials their art enibodi^. Lnnot witli all our progress get beyond those essentials. Egyptian art stately and simple convention, and is thus dipu ^ by its own sedateness, and was never wanting in reverence. . , . ^ No doubt lack of perspective in their art miph^ limitation, therefore not a Uttle must be surre^cred to Uiis limitation, but within its conventicm tlie best Egyptian art embodies refinement^ embodies lo^^ of simplicity, patience in execution, and never d^cends to L unideai copy of nature. Simplicity is th® “Sn of greatness in art, and the Egyptians never strove to be original or to he sensational. Wiriun the trammels of his convention the ancient Egyptian looked at nature tlirough h’ls own ej'ra and tlius character was imparted alone by his subjective per¬ sonality, whetlier from a religious or lesthctic point of Anew It is for this reason Uiat Egyptian por¬ traiture* to the untrained eye often appeare to have Preface a certain sameness and even monotony. TbiSt how¬ ever, is really due to the conventian of the epoch, whereby individual tmits were softened in accordance with the ideals of t!ie Egyptian convention. Tiiese facts arc manifested by the material tn the tomb of Tut'anklvAmen. We arc astounded by the immense productivity of the art of its period which it contains, but in studying it, a somewhat unexpected aspect of the character and domestic tastes of the Iring is sug' gested. 'Fut ankh-Amen’s tastes seem to have been rather tliose of a nobleman than Oiose associated witli tlie religious and official art dominant in this royat Tlieban cemetery. In the art of liis tomb it is the domestic affection and solar tendency that arc the dominant ideas, rather than the austere retigioua convention that cliaracterizes ail tire otlier royal tombs in tliis Valley. Among the immense quantities of material in Tut'ankh-.'Vmcn's tomb, as also exhibited in the beautiful reliefs of his rdgn in tlie great colon¬ nade of the Temple of Luxor, we find extreme delicacy of style togetiicr witli character of tlie ut¬ most refinement. In tlie case of a painted scene, vase, or statue, tlie primary idea of art is obvious, but in utilitarian objects sucli as a walking-stick, staff or wine-strainer, art, as wc know too well to-day, i$ not a necessity. Here in this tomb the artistic value seems to liave been slwa>'5 the jlret consideration. This is scarcely the place to discuss the question of ancient Egjqitian art, as the book deals mainly with Uie actual finding of the tomb. But Tlie Valley cannot be overlooked, and it will be helpful to include some general statements upon its impressii'c history, Xll Preface well as to recocd certain unexpected events to which the discoveir jjave rise. After 60 many years of barren labour a sudden development of great magnitude finds one unpre* pared. One is, for instance, confronted by tlie question of adeqtiate and competent assistance. In this case the help needed obviously inchided the all Important recording, photographing, planning, and the preservation of the objects— tlie latter demanding chemical knowledge. But tlie first and most pressing need was that of photography and drawing. Nothing could be contemplated until a full pietonal record of the contents of the Antechamber had been made. Tills must not only include photographs of the general disposition of the objects therein, and the order of their sequeuce, but must afterwards be followed by diagrammatic drawings showing relative positions as seen from above— a task involving not only photographic skill of a high order but also that of an experienced surveyor. Then came the consideration of their preservation, tlidr r^oval, and their desciiption — the work of a chemist, of a man. experienced in the handling of antiquities, and finally of an archaeologist. Tliis problem was quickly solved through the generosity of our colleagues of the American Expedi¬ tion of the Metropolitan l^fuseum of Art of New York. In answer to my appeal my most esteemed friend and colleague, Mr. A. M. Lythgoe, Uic Curator of tiic Egyptian Department of that museum, whose kind offer was subsequently most generously con¬ firmed by his trustees and director, cabled and placed at my disposal, to the detriment of their own work, sucli membezs of tlicir staff as might be required. Preface For such luck as tliis I had not dared to hope, Ifc included the services of >Ir, A, C, Mace, one of tlieir associate curators, of Sir, Harry Burton, tlieir expert photographic recorder, to whom the photo¬ graphs ia this volume are due, and of Messrs. Hall and Hauser, draftsmen to their expedition — a group of very able iieJd-men and aH of wide archsoto^ca) knowledge. And let me here place on record the sacrifice that Mr. Macc, the director of their excava¬ tions on the pyramid field at lasbt, made in our interests, wiiich meant the abandonment of his many years of research w^ork at Lkht, and I should add that the preparation of this book has fallen largely on his shoulders. At the same time I must express our most sincere and grateful thanks to the trustees of the Metropolitan Museum of Art of New York, to thdr director, Mr. Edward Hobinson, to Mr, Lythgoc, and also to Mr, H. E, Winlock, whose expedition for them at Thebes was thus considerably denuded. TlJiile in Cairo onotlier stnike of good luck occurred. Mr, Eucas, Director of the Chemical Department of the Egyptian Govemnicnt, for the moment free of Jiis official duties, offered us the valuable aid of his chemical knowledge. Preidous to this, w'hen 1 realized tiie probable magnitude of the discovery, Mr. A. R. Callender at Ermcnt, who liad often assisted me on former occasions, at once came to ray aid. Dr, Alan Gardiner also Very kindly placed his unrivalled pliilological know¬ ledge at our disposal. Moreover, Professor James H. Breasted, of the University of Ctucago, the eminent histco-ian of aneimt EgJiM, Uicn in Egypt, gave me his valued advice and enlightened me upon the historical data and evidence of the seal -impressions *STv Vl/^K*Jt4, dv^a Li-*<4 ^ ^ AaX ^4. ^?Pf Jin^A 6» 4^ OfCdK,!^^^ ! /A*.*<awu*i ttf ?L#c^£ii^ St#^ (i? '(^ a-<i-v^ V ^ »^»a» <*A* OSi*^^^CiA f'^ tf>». oJU y**^ to ^VlX4^ <^W y Mi*f44*4iL#HMF . ^9~J. dl2-.fc3 04Mad Cbu^ c^oMCjLt, ^ f^i^t, iLty Ct ^*1-" 1^ tfvfcV JU^*/\,^Xo ‘ftUj iu4 tp y»'>*^ ^ <7V%*wAt\^ ^£-«t j "1^ ^ .4^7 <tLt,y & r<wXi Preface on tlic four sealed doortvays found in various condi¬ tions in the tomb. Throughout the whole of this undcrtaldng vve received the utmost courtesy and kindness from all the officials connected with the Department of Antiqu¬ ities of the Egyptian Government, and I herewith desire to express the acknowledgment due to Monsieur Lacan^ Directcur G^ndral au Service des Antiquity, And Iiere I may mention how ninch 1 am indebted to the members of The Times staff for all their ready co-operation in all matters, even those outside the sphere of their own interests. My appreciative thanks are also due to Lady Biirghcicre, Lord Carnarvon’s devoted sister, for the biograpliical introduction which she has so kindly contributed, for no one could have been better fitted to carry out this task. I must also thank my dear friend Mr. Percy Wliite, the novelist, Professor of English Literature In the Egyptian University, for his ungrudging literary' help. X^tly I should like to expr^ my recognition of the services of my Egyptian staff of workmen who have loyally and con.scicntiouJ!fy carried out every duty which I entrusted to them. The letter, on p, xv, which, in its quaint Enghsh, shows their zeal during my absence, sJiould per¬ haps go on record. Howabd Cakteh. 1023. CONTENTS MflU iNTBODUCnOH. BlOG^APmCAJL Sk^tcs OF THE UtTB LfOBD Caanarvon. B? Lai>7 Bubghclere A 1 1. The Keng aks tth? Queen > * ■' 41 3. The VAIJ.EY and the Tomb * A 50 S, The Vauet in MoBiEBH TruEa . aa 4. OuH Phefatort Work at Thebes A 7fi 5. The Finding of the Tomb # 86 It. A Fbexuhnahy Intestihation , * 07 7* A SCBTEY 07 THE AKTECBAMBEE A 110 8. Cl£ABlKG THE AjiStEQSlAVJ^EJL ■ 126 S. Vjsitom and the Pbess . ■ 141 10. Work in the Laboratory • • 151 11. The Opening of tbe Seaibd Boor » 178 Aitendie .... * m • lao Inhee 1 b . . . i 1 225 B LIST OF PLATES Tho Late Earl ot Camarvoii * * ^ » -iik ' ' ■ PUtTt t StfttuB bI King Tltt'fuikli'Amen . , tl Back Pane] of the Tliroiio , HJ Road to the Tombs of the Kfn^gs rv View of the Royal Cemetery V Entrance to the Tomh of Rame&cs VI . VI Interior of the Tomb of Bantcscs IX VII Interior of tho Tomb of Ramesee IV : showing the Sarcophogas . _ VllI View showing position of Hat ahep-Sflt's aell-Toaih CC Removing surface dduis In search of the Tomh of Ttilankh-Amen » , . . . P/onh'spiece PACtMO PAflX . 42 40 50 58 64 es 72 80 82 X Example of the Workmen's Ruta found ohove the . XI View of tlie Relative poilUoas of the Tombs of Tht ahkh-AmMi and^ameie* VI . , XII Entrance to the Tomb as arst jceii Xm The Sixteen Steps XIV Examples of Seal Impiessions * - . , XV View of the Antechamher, os seen from the Passage through the Steel Grille . XVI Interior of Anteduunher: Northern End XVII Interior of Antechamber : The lion-headed Couch . XVin Interior ol Antechamber; The ffathor Couch , 84 86 88 fiO 84 06 08 102 104 List of PlaUs fui* Lttt SDmff In Mlnlatitn PiUJQttQg itpon tlie ftgl)* pantl of Painted Cuket. (No, 31) . , . LtV Sceou upnn the Front (A) and Back (B) PAncls of Ibe Painted CmdiO, (No. 2i> , LV Larfio Cedar^wood Cnslcet tnialil and Votmted with Ebony and tvoiy, (No. 33} . . « I,V1 (A) An Alabaster (Caldto) Casket (No. 40) • . (B) DeeoniUd GUI CaaJtet • , , . . LVn (A) A Solid Ivory Jewel Box (No. M ddd) . . (B) Back of the Box • . . . , . LVIJl A Lwga Vaalted-Top Box (No. lOl) - LIX A OiUd't OuJr (No, 39) . , , , . 1.x A Carvod Ccdar-wood Ctnlr (No, 87) . LXl Tbe OpcO'^rk Panel of the back of ibe Curved Cedar-wood Omir , » , , * LXn The King's Golden njrono (No. 01) i . LXlll Ttie King's Cotdeo Tbrooe (No. 91) . , , LXIV TUe King's Golden Throne (No. 91) , LXV (A) A Large Pendant Scarab ct Gold and Lapis LexnU filne Glass ..... (B) Bead al Scarab . . ^ , (C) A Gold Pendant (D) Tbe Chased Back of the PendBnt . . LXVI (A) Tim Central Pectora] of the Conlet . (B) tbe Back Pendant of the Conlst of Gold Bkhly bUdill e p . . L5CVII (A) Savon Finger-tings and an Onumenlnl Finger- ling Dcul (B) Gold Buckles of Open-work Sheet Gold, with Applied Pattern in Tiny Granule* . , , sail r*aa 197 199 199 200 300 201 201 203 203 204 200 200 307 308 309 209 209 209 210 210 211 311 List of Plates fA«lK« fiUt LXVIII Thtt SniAlJ Golden Slulne * t 4 * 312 LXIX Tvni'' OntniMilal Wa11iliie>Sttcki Uiln Gold FoU . foveml with 313 LXX A CetetiioiilA] WaIking*Stick • * 4 t au LXXI A Staff and Stick ^ « ■4 * it 315 UCXIl SUclaiuuk VVhlpt with Onuuneaul Hmidltt la Gold Work , , , . t . > 310 Lxxm Two Sloolf ^ ^ r F 317 LXXtV Two Stoote 4 , 218 J-XXV Tortb and Torcb'boJden of Broiue nod Gold upon Wooden Fcdetlala . 319 LXXVt Three et the KEiig'« Bom , • f .. 330 Lxxvn Three of the Bowi ^ - 231 ucxvin TacUIcA g| Api^Ued Ntedlcwork 1 * 323 LXXIX Example* el the King** Gimn * 4 » S33 SkctdioPlim ot the Toinh > , * 3^ xsiii r* te, INTRODUCTION BlOGU^iPBlCAL SKETCH OF THE LATE LORD CARNARVON By Lady Burohci.ehe IF it is feme tliat the whole world loves a lover, it is also true that either opcoly or secretly the world loves Romance. Hence, doubtless, the passionate and farflung interest aroused by the dis¬ covery of Tut'ankh'Ainen’s tomb, an interest ex¬ tended to the discoverer, and certainly not lessened by the swift tragedy that waited on lus brief hour of triumph. A story that opens like Aladdin’s Cave, and ends like a Greek mjth of Nemesis cannot fail to capture the imagination of all men and women who, in this workaday existence, can still be moved by tales of high endeavour and unrelenting doom. Let it be gratefully acknowledged by those to whom Carnarvon’s going must remain an ever-enduring sorrow, that the sympathy displayed eqtialled the excitement evoked by the revelations in The Valley of the Kings. It is in thankful ^ponse to that warm-heaTted sympathy that this slight sketch of a many-sided personality, around whom such emotions linvc centred, finds place here as intro¬ duction to the history of that discovery to which the discoverer so eagerly devoted tiis energies and ulttmately sacrificed his life. f Introduction To those who knew Lord Carnarvon, there is & singular fitness in the £sct tliat he should have been the hero of one of the most dramatic episodes of tlxe present day, since under the quiet exterior of this reticent Hhiglisliman, beat, in truth, a rumantic hearts The circumstances of his life bad undoubtedly fostered the natural bent of his character. Bom on June 26th, 1866, George Edward Stanliope Molyneux Herbert, Lord Porchester, enjoyed tlic inestimable privilege of being reared in an atmosphere coloured by romance and permeated by a fine simplicity. Nor was he less happy in lik outward surroundings. Even when matched against the many “ statdy homes of England,’^ Highclere must rank as a dom^ of rare beauty, Much of its dianu is due to its contrasted scenery. From the close-cropped lawns, sliaded by giant cedars of Lebanon, where in a past century Pope sat and diseouised with his friend, Robert Caroline Herbert, the godson and namesake of George 11 's queen, Uie transition is brief to tlncket^ of hawthorn, woods of beech and oak, and lakes, the happy haunts of wildfowl j while all around stand the high downs either densely timbered or as bare and wiki as when the Britons built their camp of refuge on Beacon. Hill, tlte great clialk bastion that dominates the country-side. To children nurtured on Arthurian h^cmls it needed little mental effort to translate the woodlands, where they galJoped tlieir ponies, into the Forest of Eroediande, or the old monkish fistiponds, where they angle<l for pike and gathered water-lilies, into that magic mere which swallowed up the good blade Excalibur ; whilst a mound rising from a distant gravel-pit nierdy re¬ quired the draw bridge, erected by the obliging house f Introduction carpenter across its surrounding trickle of water, to become Tintagei. If^ as any Cathodic priest wouid assure us, the indelible impressions on the human mind are those stamped in the earliest years, Porchester graduated in a school of Homance and Adventure. Moreover, hereditary inlluenccs combined with environment to give an individual outlook on life. The son of two high-minded parents who were ever striving to give I practical effect to their ideals for tlic benefit of otiiers, there was notliiag to unlearn in the early education. Indeed, it can confidently be asserted Umt, throughout his childhood, the curly-hcaded little boy neither heard nor witnessed anything that common was ’ or mean.” The vilbge, tlie household, were members of the family. It was the feudal, the patxinrclial ' system at its best, the dreams of “ Young England ” realized. For the law tliat governed tJic community ' at Highdere was the law of kindness, though kind- ) ness that permitted no compromise with moral laxity . An amusing commentary on the standards recog¬ nized as governing — or at any rate expected to govern — home life, was furnished on one occasion by tlie ^ children’s nurse. One of her nurslings, tlxorougldy i scared by the blood-curdling descriptions of Hell, and Hell-fire, coatained in a horrible little religious primer, "The Peep o’ Day” (now mercifully dis- I carded by later gencratiom} ad^nistered to her by an injudicious governess, naturally turned to the bdoved “ Nana ” for consolation. She did not seek in vain. “Don’t worry, dearie, over such tales," said tire good old woman, “ no one from Highdere Castle will evear go to Hell I ” I By common consent. Porches ter’s father, tlie 5 Introduction fourth Earl of Carnarvon, was regarded as a states- num who had never allowed ambition to deflect him by H hair’s breadth from the path mapped out by a meticulous conscience. But although he had re¬ signed from the Derby-Disraeli Government rather than support the Franchise Bill of 1S67, he was the reverse of a reactionary. Both in imperial and sodal schemes he was far in advance of most of his con¬ temporaries on both sides in politics. Indeed, it h mteresting to speculate how much of blood ant^ treasure would have been spared to this country if the measures and judgment of this truly Conserva¬ tive statesman had commanded the support of the Cabinets and party with which he was connected. Little boys are not interested in politics — except in lighting bonfires to celebrate successful elections— but whatever arc the eventual developments, en¬ vironment and heredity are the bedrock whence character is hciini. The fifth Earl of Carnarvon — the archaiologist — in bis physical and mental make¬ up*’* to use the modem phrase* did not recall his father. But it was from the latter that he inherited the quality of independent thought, coupled with an extreme pleasure in putting lus mind alongside that of other men- Moreover* the powcaf of scholarly concentratioa which he brought to bear on the many and varied subjects in which he was interested, was certainly part of the paternal heritage^ for the fourth Earl was one of the finest classical scholanfi of hts generation. Indeed* there are those still living who can bear witness to his faultless Latin oration as Viceroy at Trinity College, Dublin* and remember his admission, when pressed, that he could as easily liave made the speech in Creek, Introdnction fN In 1875 a sliadow feU across tJie boy’s life. His mother died after giving birth to a third daughter. The shadow was destined to be enduringt since Evelyn Stanhope, Lady Carnarvon, iras one of those rare w’omai who are in the ivorld and vet m not of it, and the want of her dever sympathy was a lifelong loss to Porchestcr. His w'himsic^ wit and her keen sense of humour were made for mutual understanding. She would have helped him to overcome the ingramed resm'^e, which it needed '^e action of years to wear array, at the outset interpreting an unusual character to the world, and the world to her son. Even wlten tlte surviving parent is as devoted a father as was Lord Carnarvon, it is perhaps unavoid¬ able that the mother’s deatJi should bring an element of austerity into children’s lives, though it also tends, as it certainly did in this instanci^ to tl^ten the links betwem brother and sisters. After their motiicr’s death, Porchester, or ** Porchy " as he wos then habitually called, and the little girls were^ however, unspeakably blessed in the devoted affec¬ tion lavished upon them by their father's sisters Lady Gwendolen Herbert and Eveline, Lady Ports¬ mouth. The former was a delicate invalid around whose sofa young and old clustered, secure of sym¬ pathy in sorrow or ki joy. The fact that an unhappy chance liad cheated her of her share of youUi^s fun and gaiety made her tixe more intent on securing these for tlie motherless chilclicn, in whose lives slie realmsd licr own life. Slie w'as the natural inter¬ preter when vengeance thrcatcnfxl to follow on chemical experiments resulting in semi-asphyxtatJng and wholly malodorous vapours, or when excursions 5 Introduction amongst Tvater-taps sent cataracts of water down the Vandycks. The sclioolroom discipline of the ’seventies was not conceived on ilontessori iines- The ectieme mildness of Lady Gwendolen's rule tlid not always coinmend itself to tutors and govetnesses. Tliey recalled that a spear, which at his earnest ciktreaty she had bestowed on Porch j% was fleslted in a valuable engraving ; while another of her gifts, a large saw, was regarded as so dangerous tliat it became ** tabu ” and hung suspended by a broad blue ribbon, a curioua ornament on the sclioolroom wall. Nor can it b" denied that to present a small boy with half-a-crown to console him for brealdng a window ig a homoeo~ pathic method of education, which would excite protests from pastors and teachers of any age. But despite her unfailing indulgence, her influence was never enervating. It is wliat we are, not our sayings, and still less our scoldings, that count with those kccn^cyed critics, the younger generation. Naughti¬ ness in Gwendolen’s neighbourhood was unthinkable. In her own person she so endeared the quality of gentleness — not a virtue always papular with tlic young of the male sex — that Porchy’s sisters and small Iialf brotlicrs never sulTcred fiom. roughness at his hands. A tease he was, a terrific tease then and to the end of life, in sober middle-age getting the same rapture &om a “ lise out of his friends or fa^y as a fifth-form school boy. But the strand of gentleness that ran through bis nature was not its least attaching quality, fostered in Uiose early days by the one effectual method of education, the example of tliose we love. Long years afterwards when her nephew laid Lady Gwendolen to rest at Highclerc, he reverted 6 Introduction with grateful tenderness to the memories, tlic lessons of that selfless love. What a blank,” he wrote, would the absence of tliat HtUe figure in grey " mean to him at the family gatherings, the christeimigs, tiic weddings, where her presence carried him back to all tliC lovdy memories of cluldhood. Never robust, it is doubtful whether Lord Car¬ narvon would have aeoomptisbed even iiis brief span of life but for the part played in his boyhood by Portsmouth and her home, £ggeaford, which. Vecomc his second home. The England of the ^seventies was still an age of hermetically closed windows, OYcrhcated rooms, comforters and— worst horror of all — respirators. Fortunately for the boy. Lady Portsmouth, a pioneer in many phases of work and thought, was a strenuous advocate of open air. Tlie delicate, white-faced child, after a couple of months spent in hunting and out'of-door games with the tribe of cousins in North Devon, was transformed into a hardy young sportsman. At Eggesford horses and hounds were as mueti the foreground of life as politics and books at HigheEere. i'lr. Sponge’s Sporting Tour ” replaced “ Mannion,” though it was “The Talisman” and “Ivanhoe” that Lady Ports¬ mouth read aloud to the family in the dierished evening hour, the climax of the busy, happy day at Eggesford. DiHerent as the two houses might appear, they were, however, alike in essentials. Tlicj' ow'iied the same ctliics, they aeknow'ledged the same stan¬ dards. Highelere could not be called conventional. But Eggesford, in a coiimtry which before the advent of the motor preser\^ed much of the flavour of the past, was distinctly unconventional. The meets brought into the field a motley assembly of men. 7 Introduction boys, horses ani3 ponies, sticb as probably outside Ireland could have been collected in no other comer of tile United Kingdom. Of these not the least individual figure was Lord Portsmouth, probably the most popular ALF.H. in England, Seldom, indeed, can goodwill to men of goodwill have been more clearly writ large on a human countenance than on this great gentleman^s, wliose very mciness of expression only the more endeared him to the Hunt, In later life Lord Carnarvon's friends often noted^ with amusement his fondness for those they describe as ** quaint personalities,*^ It may be that this taste owed its origin to those holiday hours spent waiting for the fox in spinneys, and by larch woods dappled with the early greenery of tlie incomparable West Country spring-tide. Perhaps it w-as there also that he received lessons in a I^s facile art tlian the obser¬ vation of the quaint and curious. The perfect ease of friendship, a friendship that excludes alike patron¬ age and familiarity, was the keynote of the old M.F,EL^s intercourse w'itli man, woman, and child on tliose mornings. It was much the same keynote that governed lord Carnarvon's relations ^vith persons whose circumstances and mentality might seem to set a wide distance between them. Those who travelled with hint on his annual journey — or progress rather— from Paddington to Highclere at Christmas can never forget the warmtli of greet¬ ings his presence called forth in tltc railway employees of all grades, from inspectors to engine- drivers. The festival gave them and gave liim an opi^rtuuity of expressing their feeling, their genuine feeling for one another. It is no exaggeration to S Introditction Bay that it was a mciving" scene, singularly appro¬ priate to the celebration of the great ramily feast of ttie year, A private school and dton are the succcssK'C steps which automatically prepare a boy in Porchester^s position for a future career. Bis private school was not liappily chosen. It subsisted on its former reputation, and neiUier diet nor instruction was up to tlie mark, but he was at least fortunate in emerging alive from an epidemic of measles, which the boys Rented by pouring jugs of cold water on each other wlien uncomfortably feverish. To the end Eton retained in his eyes that glamour wlilcb marks the true Etonian, ajid his tutor, Mr. Marindin, slmred in that affection. Yet it was something of a misfortune tlial sdiool did nothing for the formation of methodical habits in a l)ov endowed with an exceptionally fine memory and unusual quickness. It would, for imtance, liave been a blessing if an exjienaive education had tauglit him to answ^er his letters. Thus, on one occasion, literary circles rang with the wrathful dcnimciaiions of a di.sbngutshcd critic, who liad vainly applied to Lord Carnarvon, as heir to the eighteenth -century Lord Chesterfield, for information regarding that statesman's relations w'itJi Montesquieii, It was known that the author of ** L’Esprit des Lots had visited dthcr Cliesterfteld House or Bretby, where it was presumed that some trace of the visit might be found. Otx inquiry it transpired tfiat Lord Car¬ narvon had spent hours, if not days, searching the libraiy at Bretby, a library collected entirely by Lord Ctiesterfield, for any vestiges of Montesquieu. But the scorch having proved vain. It had not 0 g Inti’oduction occxured to Carnarvon to send & postcard to that effect — if only to point out how much trouble lie had taken on an unkno^vn stranger’s bdialf. Before he left home for school, tutors and governesses had pronounced Porchy to be idle ; and probably, as in the case of most active young creatures, it was no easy task to hold his sustained attention. Yet, judged by tlie less exacting standards of the present day, a child of ten would now scarcely be considered backward wha was bilingual — French being the language use® with mother and teachers— was possessed of a fair knowledge of German, the Latin Grammar, and the elements of Greek, and sang charmingly to the old tin kettle of a scJiooIroom piano. Labels are fatal things. Once labelled idle it is the pupil and not the instructor who earns tlie blame. Perhaps also the perfection of the father’s scholar- ship was a stumbling-block to the son. It is one of life’s little ironies, on which schoolmasters should ponder, that a man d^ined to reveal a whole chapter of the Ancient World to the twentieth century, frankly detested the classics as taught at Eton. The fourth Earl was too sensible to insist on his son pursuing Indefiiutely studies doomed to failure. POTchester left Eton early to study with a tutor at home imd abroad wimt would now be called the “modem side.” The amount of strenuous scientific work achieved in tiic little laboiatory by the side of the lake at Highdcrc or during walking tours through tlie Black Forest was probably small ; but at any rate these two icandcryrrAren left tiim in possession of a store of miscellaneous information Introduction seldom aocumuldted by Hie average sdiooiboy — tlie veiy material to stimulate his natural versa¬ tility. Some months were spent at Embleton under the tuition of the future Bishop of Loudon, Dr, Creighton, to whose memory he remained much attached. Work witli crammers in England and at Hanover with a view to entering the army formed the next phase. The project of a military career, however, proved evanescent ; and in 1S85 Lord l^orchester was entered at Trinity College;, Cam- Tbridge. It was eharacteristic that being struck with the beauty of the panelUug in his college rooms, he ofiered the authorities to have the many coats of paint disHguring the woodwork scrajKid off and tlie rooms restored at his own expense — an offer ua* fortunately refused* Collecting was not then tlie universal mania it has now become, hut tlie under¬ graduate was father to the man who was eventually regarded as a court of appeal by tlie big dealers in London* But long b^ore Cambridge curiosity shops had been his happy hunting grounds. As a little lad, besides the stereotyped properties of the average schoolboy, the inevitable stamp album, and a snake— the latter housed for a whole term at Eton In his desk- — when he had a few shillings to sp^e, blue and white cups, or specimens of cottage china, would be added to his store of treasures. He was still at Cambridge when Le began collecting French prints and drawings, notably tlie Hops draw¬ ings, now higldy valued by connotsseurs, then bought for a few fnmes, ^ evert] icl ess, at this period, sport rather than antiquities was the main interest of the young man’s life, and it is to be feared that he w-as more often ti Introduction seen at Newn^arket Uian at lectures. His father hatl recently built a villa on the Italian Hiviera, at Porto Fino, a lonely promontory, then absolutely remote from tcmrists, as a deep chasm in tlie high road leading to the tittle seaport formed an elfcetua] barrier to communications, save by sea, with the outer world, As a means of locomotion Porchesler aetjuired a sailing boat, and there^^itb aetjuired a passion for the water. The Mediterranean is not the halcyon lake it is sometimes painted northern imagination, Indeed, Lerici, with its tragic memories of Shelley, is a warning, almost within view of Porto Fino, of the risks that attend on the mH-dner who neglects to shorten sail when a sudden gust sweeps down from the over-hanging mountains. These squalls more tiian once nearly brought about tlie end of the young “ milord,” the Italian boatmen having a tiresome habit, at such crises, of falling on tlieir knees to invoke tlie Madonna, while Pore) tes¬ ter and lits stolid English servant were left unassisted to bring the boat to bar1)Our. To the bom adventurer the zest of advciiture lies in its flavour of danger, and it wns the hazards run on these excursions that Inoculated him with the love of seafaTing, When he left Cambridge in 18S7 he at once emlforked in a sailing yacht for a cmise round the world, and henceforward it may be said that the lure of adventure never ceased to iiaunt him. From Vigo lie sailed to Uie Cape Verde Islands, tlie ^\■est Indies, paused at Pernambuco, and thm let drive for 42 days on end through the great solitude of Uie tropical seas till be brou^it up at lUo, It was on this voyage tliat he acquired the passion for reading, which u as to be the mainstay of his existence. Introduction a gain which was cheaply purcliased at Uie cost of those long mouths spent under the Southern Cross. He was wont to say that, fond as he was of sport and motoring, he would gladly never stir out of his diair if only when he finished one absoibing book, another equally absorbing could drop into his hands. Thus, the crortain being rung down on his academic studies^ the once idle undergraduate flimg himself with avidity into the pursmt of knowledge, and especially of lustory* certain periods of which he studied with the meticulous research of a processor preparing a course of lectures. Life on board the Aphrodite was not, however, solely dedicated to placid readings of successive series of improving tomes. There are bound to be pleasant and unpleasant episodes on a long voyage and the young man had his fill of botJi. In a high gale, while tiie captain lay unconscious and delirious, PoTchester took command, and luck and a good first mate being with him, brought the yacht safe to land. Again, when one of the crew injured himself, and the ship's doctor was forced to operate, it was Por- chestcr who. his linger on llie nmn’s pulse, ad minis* tered the chloroform with the neatness lUid calm of a professional ansesthetist. At Buenos Aires, then in the floodtide of prosperity, with two Italian Opera companies perform ing nightly to .Argentine milHon- aircs, the young Enghsluuaa met with a cordial welcome From all classes of tlie commimity, native and foreign alike. In the style of the traditional “ milord "he feasted the President on tiie Aphrodite —the first yacht to cast anchor in Argentine waters — while he also made friends w'itii men of business, the Admiral coinmanding the British Squadron and *3 Introduction tJie Italian Opera singers. He rather plumed himself on the latter company having once called on him to replace their missing accompanist at a rehearsal; he admitted— for lie loved telling a story against himself— that the request was never repeated, as he insisted on taking tlie artists according to hisi ratlier than according to tiieir, notion of time. Of all these acquaintances and friendships Admiral Kennedy's undoubtedly vt'as the most valuable, since it viBs thanks to his vigorous remomtnuices that Porehester ilnaliy abandoned his projected journey through tile Straits of Alagellan, which, at the wrong time of year and in a sailing boat, Uie admiral dc- dared to be suicidal. Hic complete tour of the world planned by Porehester therefore foiled, but the Journey was rich in experiences of all kinds to a young man fresh from college. From Buenos Aires, Poiclicstcr returned in soniC' what leisurely manner homewards. Many of the places he visited were terra ineognita to the English¬ man of that date, and e^’en now are unfamiliar to the average tourist. In the Great War he was one of the few people able to give a first-hand description of the scene of the battle at the F.alkland Islands, where he had predicted that the decisive fight for the control of the South Atlantic must take place. From these early travels lie brought back, iiow- ever, something more than acquaintance with the waste places of the earth, beautiful scenery or str^mge types of humanity. In these wanderings he also saw somctlung of Llie elemental conditions of life, where a man’s bond must needs keep his head, an experience too often denied to the rich man of our latter-day civilization. A hibliopliilc, a collector of M Introductmi chinn and drawings and, indeed, of all things rare and beautiful, with a line taste intensified by oliser- Tation and study, his happiest houts were probably tliose when the unsought adventure called for rapid decision and prompt acUon, But it should he under* stood that the adveiitiu'e must be unsought, for no one was e\'er less cast in the mould of a Don Quixote. His courage was of tliat peculiar calm variety wluch means a pleasurable quickening of tjie pulse in the hour of danger* On one occasion in his youth he hired a boat to take him somewhere off the coast to Ids ship lying far out to sea. He was alone, steering the httte bark rowed by a couple of stahvart fishermen. Suddenly, when far removed from land, and equally distant from his goal, the two ruffians gave him the choice between payment of a large sum or being pitched into the water. He listened quietly, and motioned to them to pass Ids dressing-bag. They obeyed, already in imagination fingering tlie English “Lord’s” ransom. The situation was, however, re¬ versed when he extracted, not a wcU-stuffed pocket- book, but a revolver, and pointing it at the pair sternly bade them rovv on, or he would shoot. The chuckle witli wluch he recalled what was to lum an eminently detectable episode, still remains with his hearer. Tnith compels ids biographer to admit tliat he did not always emerge so tritunphantly &oin Ids adventures. His next long journey was to South Africa. From Durban he wrote to the present w'riter, announcing his intention to go elephant hunting; and hunting he went, but the^ parts of hunter and hunted were reversed. Accompanied by a single >5 Introduction Mack, he lay in wait in the jungle for an dephant, anfi in due course the beast made Ills appeamnee. Porchestcr, generally an admirable shot, hred and missed him» and after a time, seeing no more of his qunrr\% slid down the tree where be was perched, inten^ng to anible quietly homewards. To do this, he had to cross a piece of bare vddt wliicli cut the forest in two. He was wdl in tlic middle of this shelterless tract, when he perceived Umt he was being stalked by the elephant, saw he had no time to re-load, and took to lus heels mth a speed lie had never imagined he could compass. His rifle, his cartridge pcucli, his glasses, his coat were ah flung away as he ran for dear life, with the vindictive beast pounding on beiund him. To iilm, as to the Spaniard, haste, on foot at least, had always been of the devil. Yet now, with life as the goal, it was he iviio won the race. He reached the friendly jungle, again climbed a tree anti w*as saved. To be chased by an elephant and escape, he was afterwards told, was a more tinusual feat than to bring one down to his gun. Eventually, he became one of the half* dozen best sliots in England, but never again did he go elephant hunting. The journey to South Alrica was followed by another to Australia and Japan, whence Pore! tester returned in the early summer of IS 00, happily just in time to be with his father, during I^ord CanuiTvori's last illness and death. The new lord was only 23 when he entered on his heritage, and save that his passion for sport kept liim at Highclerc and Bretby during the shooting season, and his love of tlic Opera for a few weeks in London during the summer, he remained constant i6 Introduction to hb love of travel, Tie would suddenly dasli off to Paris or Constantinoplet Siv^eden, Italy or Berlin^ for long or short periods, returning home equally unexpectedly^ having collected pictures and books and any number of acquaintances and friends, some of wiiose names, unfamiliar tlicn, have since loomed as targe in the world’s history as they did in the young traveller's tales. Not that at this phase he was tmduly communicative. He rather affected Llie allusive style, as **whcn 1 saw the chief of the Mafia in Naples ’* — a style eminently adapted to whet curiosities which he would tlien smilingly put by, to the despair of a hearer who naturally wished to know how he came acrc^ tliat mysterious potentate. His sense of firn made him more explicit witli regard to his efforts to aciiieve acquaintance with another lurid character. This was no other than the late Sultan ** AbdiJ the Damned,” with whom during one of his visits to Constantiuople, Carnarvon was seized with a desire to obtain an interview. Carnarvon’s Tvardrobe was never his strong point. He had no uniform, but he furbished up a yacht jacket mlh extra brass buttons and hoped Ins attire would pass muster with Uic Cliajnherlajn’s department. His name having been submitted tlirough the Embassy to the proper quarters, he was informed that an equerry and a carriage iivould convey him to t!ie yildiz Kiosk- On the appointed day the ofTieial made Ids appearance ■wearing, however, an embar¬ rassed air, for he had to explain that though profoundly desolated, found himself unable to receive his lordship. ** Perhaps onotlier day ? ” — “ No, the Sultan feared no other day was available, but as a slight token of lits esteem, lie begged Lord '7 Introduction Cariiflrvoji’s acceptance of tke aoeomp&nj’iug liinJj order,” Camarvon dectincd tlie order» i^irhich he would certainly never have worn^ and was left equally vexed and piurJcd. It took some time to arrive at any explanation, hut at last thj^> was achicv'cd. His father, the fourth Earl of Carnarvon, liad travelled extensively in Turkey, with the result that he retained a profound horror of tlic niisgoverumcnt of that unlmppy country and an equally profoimd sympathy for the persecuted Cliristian races. He became tlie Cliainuan of the Society for the Pro¬ tection of the Armenians and was regarded as one of their diicf sympathizers. This was known to Abdul, though neither he nor his minister; had realized that this Lord Carnarvon was dead, and that a young man, bearing his name indeed, hut otherwise not having inherited his political vie^vs or influence, w*as die English lord who had requested on audience of the Sultan. Abdul lived in perpetual dread of assassination, and in especial of assassination by one of the race he had so cruelly persecutid. He therefore jumped to the conclusion that Lord Car¬ narvon liad ask<^ for an interview ^vith the purpose of killing him, and firmly deeiined to allow the supposed desperado to enter his presence, Loviirs of history, like Camarvon, are anxious to come face to face with those ivho, for good or ill, are the makers of liistoiy. Consequently he was genuinely disappointed at the failure to see one of the ablc^ though most sinister of tht^ latter-day figures. But the notion of his father, of all men, being regarded as a jiotcntiat murderer was too ludicrous not to outweigh the vexation, and he Int7vduction frequently had a quiet tniigh over this side of the siorv. ■ In later life, when he was largely tliro^^Ti into their company, ” The Lord,” or “ Lordy ” as he was called by the Egyptians, contrived to (^obUsli more points of contact with Orientals of all classes ftoin pasha to fellah than is usually possible to the Western man. But indeed he had an undeniable charm, which, whcn he chose to esert it, lit.lracted die confidence of men and women aE the world oi^et. An instance in point which also illustrates the mingled shrewdness and whimsicality of his character con¬ cerned a visit to California, On his way thither he paused in New York, where he hod promised a friend he would try to obtain inforinatioji respecting a certain commercial undertaking. The fashion in wiiich he sought for information was, to say the least, highly original. For it was of his hair-cuttcr that he inquired as to the person in control of the venture. The hair-cutter liaving proved, strange to say, able to enlighten him on the subject, I^rd Carnarvon wrote a note to the financier in question requesting an interview. In due course lie was received by a typical captain of industry, with eyes like gimlets and a inoutli tike u steel trap, who must have admired Uie candour of tiie stray Englishman asking him straight out for advice. l*lie magnate listened courteously to his request for information and then unequivocally urged him on no account to touch the stocks. Carnarvon looked hard at him, thanked him, end went straiglit off to the telegraph olEce, where he cabled instructions to buy. He thcn_dcparted to California, wliere he fished rapturously — ^he delighted tn all varieties of >9 Introduction — -for tarpon. Six wedcs fater he returueJ. to Nevt York to find Uiat the shares had soared upwards, that his city friend was in ecstasira at the profit made mring to Carnarvon's decision. He tlien asked for another interview- with the financier* and vrvts again ei\ illy received. This time, Camnrvon ex¬ plained tfiat he felt he could not leave America without returning tlianks for ad\'ice which had proved so profitabie that it liad defrayed the expenses of a very costly trip. ITie magnate stared and exclaimed, “ But Lord Carnarvon, I advised you bujdng/' “ Oil, yes, 1 know you said that, but of course I saw that you wished me to understand the reverse/’ There was a moment’s pause and then the great man burst Into a roar of laughter, hdd out his hand and said, “ Pray consider this house your Iiomc whenever you return to Amta-ica.” “ And was your captain of industry the most interesting person you met on that journey ? " his hearer inquired. " Oh dear no 1 ” nas the charuet eristic reply, “ the most interesting man by far was tlic brukesmim on the railway cars to CaJifomia, 1 spent hours talking uiUi him.’* In 1894 Lord Carnarvon chartered tlic steam yacht Catarina t and in company wdtti his friend Prince A^ctor Diiieep Singli again visited Soutli America, On his return in tlie summer of 1895 on his 20 til hirtliclay he married SLss Abnina Wombw*ell, The marriage was cclcbiatt‘<l at St, Margaret’s, Wiat- minstcr; the wedding breakfast took place at Lans- duwnc House. .All was sumptuous. The very pretty bride might well have sat a.s a model to Greuze, and the bridegroom's singular air of distinction WHS no less marked Uiau lier good looks. Moreover, fntroduction he Iiad iwien parsuadeil to order and to wear a frock coat for the great occasion- But wlicn tlicy set off for Highclcre with its triumphal arches and its cheering tenants, the bride herself uenring rose- coloured gaoste bespangled with emeralds and dia¬ monds, Lord Carnarvon thankfully reverted to hia straw Imt and his favourite blue serge jacket, winch the devoted old housekeeper, his mother’s maid, had (much to her own scandal) darned that sdfsame morning! The funny titUe detail was eminently characteristic, for though his fastidious taste wel¬ comed all that made for the refinements of exigence, vvdth regard to himself he presen'ed intact his o\m curious simplicity- During the next eight or ten years the couple lived the usual life, as it iivas lived in those cheerful pre-war days, of young folk whose lot has been cast in pleasant placea. In 1898, much to Liick rejoicing, a son, Henry. Lord Porchester, was born to them, followed in lUOl by a daughter, Evc1>ti, destined to become her fathcr^s dearest friend and close companion in the last^ eventful and fata! journey to ^ , - - About ISOO Lord Carnarvon took up racing in which be soon liecamc deeply interested, for he was incapable of giving half-hearted attention to any business or pursuit. Ultimately .his main interest lay in bis stud farm where he was considered for¬ tunate, lie won some of the big races ; many of the Ascot stakes, the Steward’s Cup [at Goodwood, the Doncaster Cup and the City and Suburlian. He was a member of tlie Jockey Club, Undoubtedly, especially as he grew ohler. the human clement accounted for a large proportion of Introduction the ditertaiomeTit he derived from the Turf. Apart from Jus friendships with Uiose of his own world, he was gemiindy interested in tlie many quaint personalities kno'im to him, one ontl all, hy oiclt- names Eie never forgot, and into whose domestic Jives, ]oy5 and anxieties lie was kutLated. Wien the spare figure, unmistakably Hint of a gentleman, appeared in tiie paddock or on tlie racecourse, wearing a unique sort of low-eroivned felt Iiat, of a shape never seen on any head but his, Ms Uimat in all weathers muffled in a yellow’ scarf, and shod, whatever the smartness of the meeting, with brown shoea— tliat fellow’s d — d brown shoes ** as a great personage, noted for his obscn'ance of the ritual of dress, once d(scHbed them^-he could count on a special welcome as peculiar to himself as In's dress and his presence. This is perhaps tlie place to say something of his friendships, which were indeed an integral part of himself. No man e^’er laid more to heart Polonius's axioms on that momentous side of life ; anfl un¬ doubtedly it was with “links of steel" tJiat he gmpplcd to hunsclf his friends and their aficctiona tri^.” As one of the most distinguished of Uiese writes. “ He was a very firm friend, it perhaps took a Jong time before one was admitted to his friendship, but once admittance w'as granted it was for alwoMi and for ever. Nothing would change or weaken liis friendship. Those thus privileged knew well that even if separated for years, Uic bonds of his friendship existed as strong as ever, and tvhen they met again, they would be met as tf they had never* been parted from him." It is, indeed, true Hint nothing could weaken his fricudship. One of the few occasions on Introdxtction which the present writer saw him break down was when he was forced to confess tiiat a reiy dear friend, rtcenUy dead, had abused hts confideiice. But even then he would not reveal what tlie oilence had been. He jealously guarded the man’s repu¬ tation, nor, cut to the heart as he vi'as, would he allow the man’s dependants to suffer for his fault It was only years afterward that by a mere chance his hearer was put into possession of the facts, and was enabled to estimate the magni¬ tude of the injury and the generosity of the injured. A man who is generous in thought is bound atso to be generous in deed. The number of Janie dogs he Jielped over stiles w-id nefver be known, for be religiously obeyed tlie Evangelical precept not to allow his right liand to know what his left hand did. Only occasionally when he fdt he could trust his hmrer woidd his sense of humour get the better of his discretion. Thus, one of his old tenants, wltose rarm was rented at £727 11s. 4d. a year, for three years in succession brought exactly £27 11s. 4d. to the annual audit, and quite honestly considered that he was entitled to rccch-e a discharge in full. \^Tien this happened for the third time, and as evidently ttie land was going to rack and ruin. Lord Carnarvon fell he must ^ve tJie man notice. It was not an over¬ rented holding, he anxiously explained, since no sooner was his decision known, tlian he received an offer of £1,100. “But,” he added, **I was so sorry for the poor old fellow, who had spent his life on the place, that I arranged to give him a sort of pension of £250. I thought it would be a com¬ as Introduction fort*” But for the farmer’s singular views on the balancing of accounts, wiiich appe^ed to Canxarvoii** sense of humour, the itttle tale would have remained untold. Tlie same loyal fidelity which bound his affeciions in perpetuity to his family, his sisters and brothers and friends, made him an admirable master and a true friend to his servants. He falsified, rather amusingly, Uie proverb that a man cannot be a hero to his valet. Sliort of a scrioua fault, once a man entered Ids employment, he remained in it for life, but on the couditiou that he gave good sendee. That Lard Camaivon expected, and that he got. In the same way, being courteous and considerate himself, he expected civility in return. He was seldom disappointed, for, as he said in his last letter to the present rn-iter, “ it h wonderful what a little politeness can do,’^’ But meeting "with rudeness, he could give a rebuke which, for being rather obliquely delivered, was none the less effective. In the war, having occasion to go to one of the Control Dqiart- ments, he was received by a damsel witii " Ijohlicd ” hair and bobbed manners who, in a voice of utter scorn, demanded to know' on what business he could have come. Since no human being could enter the Department save for the one purpose of obtaining the commodity in which the Control <lealt, the ques¬ tion, apart from the fashion in which it was delivered, was an impertinence. In the sweetest of \'oicc$. Lord C-aman on replied, “ Of course, 1 have come to talk to you about the hippopotamus in the Zoo” — after which speech Jiis business was put through in double-quick time. A fine shot, an owner of race-horses, a singularly ^4 Inti^duction well impirwl art collector — -his privately piiutctl catalogue of rare books b a tiitKld of its kind— Lord Caruar vou wa,^ also a pioneer of motoring. He owned cats in France before they were allowed in EngJam!. In fact, his was the tliird motor registereil in this country, after tlie repea.1 of the act making it ohliga- tory for all niacliine-pro polled ciuriages to be pr^ ceded on. the high road by a man carrying a red. fl^. Slotoring was bound to appeal to one of hta disposition, and he threw himsdr i^ith passion into the neiv sport. He was a splendid drivei-, well served by his gift — a gift wliieli also served him in footing and golf — of judging distances accurately, whilst iwssessing that unnifSeel calm in difliculti^ winch often, if not invariably, is the best insurance against disaster. Though Carnar\-on enjoyed a reputation for reek* tessness he was in reality far too collected frad had too mucli common sense to woo danger. When the present uTlter rejirciaelicd him for taking tm* nect-sSRiy* risks, he replied : Do you take me for a fool t In motoring the danger lies round cornera, and [ newer lake a cornet fast.” This was probably true, but the l^cst-laid schemes o’ mice and mm gang aft ft-g!ey,” and it \vm on a iverfoetly straight road Uiat lie met mtli the accident that materially H0ected ids whole life. It was on a journey through Germany that disaster overtook Carnan-on. He and his tIe\'oted chauffeur, Edward Trotinan, whtJ accompanied him on ali his expeditions for eight -and -twenty years, had hem ll^ng for many miles along an empty road, ruled with Roman precision through an intcrnunable Teutonic forest, toivards Sell wal bach, where X.^uiy Introduction Caruarvon was awaiting tlieir arrivaf. Before tbcm, as behind, tiie highway stiil stretched out, when, suddenly, as they crested a rise, they were confronted by an im^pected dip in the ground, so steep as to be invisible up to within 20 yards, and at the bottom, right across the road, were drawn up two bullock carts, Carnarvon did the only thing possible. Trust¬ ing to win past, he put the car at the grass margin, but a heap of stones caught the wheel, two tyres burst, the car turned a complete somersault and fell on the driver, while Trotman was dung clear some feet away. Happily for them both, the lntter*s thick coat broke his fall, and witli splendid presence of mind be lost not a second in coming to his master’s rescue. The ear had fallen aslant across a ditch. Had it fallen on the road, Canian'on must have been crushed to deatli, instead of being embedded head foremost in mud. With the energy of despair, Trotman con¬ trived to drag the light car aside and to extricate Carnar¬ von, who was unconscious, his heart even appearing to have stopped. Tlic bullock drivera knowing tliem- selvcs in ^ult had bolted, but Trotnum saw some workmen in on adjoining field, saw they bad a can of water, and without pausing to apologize seized the con and daslied the water in Lord Carnarvon's face. The shock set the heart beating anew, and mwinwhilc the workmen, wlio had followed liot-foot in pursuit of Uieir can, arriv'ed on the scene. They imd no common language, but the aivful spectacle and the chauffeur’s signs were sufficient explanation and they brought a doctor to the spiot. He found a ahottered individual, evidently suficring from severe ixmcussion, his face swoUeti to shapelessness, his legs severely burnt. Ilia wrist broken, temporarily blind, the IntiDduction palate of hb tnouth and his jaw injured^ caked tn mud from head to foot. In fact, he was only just alive; but he recovered consciousness to put the one question which overpowered all else^ “Have I killed anyone ? was reassured, and lapsed again into unconsciousness. In this condition he was carried to the nearest pot‘honse, where Lady Carnarvon, who almost instantly rejoined him, summoned doctors and surgeons to his bedside. It was characteristic that almost the first words he murmured when he liad recovered speech were, ** I don^t tlilnk I have lost my nerve I ” He was right, he had not lost his nerve, but he had lost Ills health. Nothing that skill or care could effect then or later was spared, but throughout the remainder of his life he suffered from perpetually recorrent operations and dangerous illnesses. He bore these with a noble courage, and emerged mellowed rather tlian embittered from these trials and the renunciations of work and ambitions curtailed. Sometimes he lapsed into long silences, seldom into eomplamts. It was a fine triumph of will, assisted by the sense of humour which was the w*arp and woof of liis being. With regard to recreations, his versatility eame to his help. Wltcn agonizing headaches n^ade shoots ing too painful, he took to golf, at which he was “ scratch." Wlien golf proved beyond his strengtii, he set himself to study tlic technique of photography, and aided by his artistic faculty he shortly became a master of the art. Indeed, in tl>e words of an expert, “Camarvoub work was known in alt parts of tlie globe where pictorial photography lias an honoured place, and it b not too much to say that 47 Inttvdiiction his productions were unique in their artist r3’' and in the knowledge that he disphiyed in their prodnetion*'* {Qiiaritrl^ Jourrutl of fht Cnmerti Clnb^ Voli. I, *202, May, 1023, p. 13, by F. J, Jlortinier, F.R.P.S.), In 1016 he was deeted President of the Camera Cluln He appreeiatwl tl»c distinctiati ; but tlie reeogjution of Ills work hi this rinUI tliat brouglit him the greati-st pleasure was a summons he received during I he war to the Front to advise Royal Headquarter Flying Corps on tlie sutijeet of aerial piiotography, TJie three daj.'s he spent at St, Andr^ went a UtRc way, though only a little way, to console him for not being a combatant, and he rejoiced accordingly f thougit on his return to England he paid for Uie effort with a sliarp attack of illness. He tiad always been attracted by meGlianieu] inventions. It was under Beacon llill, on his pro])ert;y, that Captain de ILiviliind eonjitructed the firsl aer(>- plani^ which in its perfected form of D.H,D became tiu! chief fighting aeroplane hi ttic war. NeverllicJess, strive as he would, the renuneiationa involved ivere not inconsiflerable. He was deeply interested in the dcctions of 1905 and 1010 aud tJie House of Lords controversy of 19H j and lie would probably have- taken an aefive part in pedidcs but for his belief that tiu‘ serious injury to his moiitli and jaw nmst militate against public speaking. He may have exaggerated Uib draivlmek, fur, when he ilc- livered bis leeture at tlie Central Hall, WcstmitiRitcr, on January lllh, I02.g, he was easily heard by a large audience. Bui he disliked doing things badly, and his fear of being indistinet, added to his nuiuy illnes.scs, cxlinguisbcd his hojie of entering public life. Many of liis friendii both now anti then rcgTetted 33 Ittlmduction Mhs forced abstention from tke public life of tlie country. Sir Wiliiani Garstin, whose TcrtlJct must carry weight, writes, “ Lord Camar\'on took a deep interest in all qin^tious connected with English politics, but it was tlte foreign policy of this country Uiat more particularly interested him. Ills exten¬ sive travels, as well as liis studies, gave him xi grasp of the subjects connectetl with ‘ World policy ’ tliat is unusual in Englishmen who li^-e much of their llvxs at home. Perhaps the pcilitics of the Xear East attracted him more than those of any other country His frequent visits to Turkey and Ilia Balkan States, and his recognition of Urn ties that closely bind England Nvith these nations, gave him a direct personal interest in the questions. He certainly could and did talk well and intelligently upon every¬ thing eonnectexi with England’s relations with Turkey and tile £a.st.‘' The net result of the accident wns the necessity to winter out of England, since, with his ditDculty of breathing, a bad (attack of bronchitis would prolmbly liave proved fatal. In 1903 he con¬ sequently went to Egypt and was at once captivated by tlie fascination of ** digging.'* An uoihmlied fragment on the subject, on which he wiLs engaged at his death, gi^'es on account of these early days: “ It htwl always been ray wish and intention even os far back lb8U to start excavating, but for one reason or onoUier 1 had never heen able to bi'giii, IIowCTer, in 190(5 witl> the aid of Sir William Garstin, wiio nw then adviser to U>e Ihiblic ^Vorks, 1 started to excavate in Thebes. ** 1 may say liiat at this period I knew nothing *9 Introductiofi wtmt€^£r about excavating, so 1 suppose with tlie idea of keeping me out of tnisduef, as well as keeping me employed, 1 was allotted a site at the top of Shetkli Abdel Guma. 1 had scarcely been operating for 24 hours when we suddenly struck what seemed to be an untouched burial pit. This ga%'e rise to much excitement in the Antiquities Department, which soon simmered down when the pit was found to be imfiimhcd. There, for six weeks, enveloped in clouds of dust, 1 stuck to it day in and day out. Beyond finding a large mummified cat in its case, whidi now graces the Cairo Museum, nothing what¬ soever rewarded my strenuous and very dusty en¬ deavours. This utter faflure, however, instead of disheartening me l>ad the effect of making me keener than ever." The more he toiled, howeii'er, the more it became clear to him that he needed expert aid ; accordingly be consulted Sir Gaston Maspero, who advised him to have recourse to Mr. Howard Carter. Sir Gaston Maspero’s advice proved even more fruitful of good than Lord Carnarvon anticipated. In air. Howard Carter Camjin'on obtained the collaboration not only of a learned expert, an archieo- logist gifted with imagination, and as Lord Carnar\'oa said “a very fine artist,” but that of a true frtend- For the next sixteen years the two men worked together with varying fortune, yet ever united not more by their common aim tivan by their mutual regard and affection. An account of Lord Carnarvon and Mr. Carter's work is to be foimd in the smnptuous volume entitled « Five Years' Explorations at Tliebcs ” which they 30 Introduction pubUshcd in 1912, Lord Carnarvon’s description of tlie first excavations effected with Mr. Howard Carter should, however, find place here. “After pcrliaps 10 da^* wort at Dcir el Balmri in 1907.” Jie writes, “ we came upon what proved to be an untouched tomb. I shall never forget the first sight of it. There wa-s sometlimg extraordinarily modem about it. Several coflfins were in tlie tomb, but the first that arrested our attention was a white bril* liaatly painted colfin with a pall loosely thro^vn over it, and a bouquet of Bowers lying just at its foot. There these colfins had remained imtouched and forgotten for 2,500 years. The reason for the sepul¬ chre being inviolate was soon apparent. There was no funerary furniture, and evidently the owners of the coffins were poor people, and they ot their rela¬ tions had put all the funeral money they were able to spend into tlie ornamental coffins tliat contained tlieii bodies. “ One of these coffins I presented to the Newbury Museum. The results of tliis season were very poor, still one day we thought that we had at last found sometliing wliich had every appearance of an un¬ touched tomb some 400 yards from the Temple of Deir el Bahari. In tlie morning, 1 rode out, and no sooner did I see Carter’s face than I knew some¬ thing unpleasant and imforesccD had oeeuircd. Alas ! \Vliat looked promising the day before turned out to be merely a walletl-up sort of stable ivhert* the ancient Egyptian foreman bad tethered his donkey and kept his accounts. But this is a common occurrence, for in excavation it is generally the unexpected Uiat happens and Uie unexpected is nearly always unpleasant.*' So 31 Introduction wrote the future reveajer of Tut-anklrAinea^s tomb. In 1907 Lord Caniar^'‘on begun to fomi Uis now celebrated Egyptian colleetiou. ** My chief atm,” tic writes, “ was ttitn, and is noM\ not nierely to buy because a thing is rare, but rather to consider the beauty of an object tluui its pure histone value. Of coumc wEicn tlie two, beauty and huntoric interest, arc blended in a singie object the interest and deliglit of possession are more Uian doubled TIic testimony of that eminent autliority, Sir Ernest Budge, strikingly confimis Lord Carnarvon’s oun account of his eol- tection. “ He only cared,” says Sir Ernest, ** for the best, and notliing but the best w'ould satisfy him, and Imving obtained the best he persisted in beliiniiig that there must be somewhere somethmg better llwiii the best. His quest for the beautiful in Egyptian design, form and colour became Uie cult of his life in recent years, llts taste was faultless and his instinct for tlie true and genuine was un¬ rivalled. When compared irith a beautiful ^ antica ’ money hail no value for him, and lie was wont to say with Sir Henry Baw|iuson+ 'it is easier to get money than antieas.' Of nil tlie mmneiatious forced upon lunt by bad health the one which <KJst hitn most uws his inalnlity to talce s pcrsoiuil port Ut the Great War. Aithougli he was paiit military age, his quick intdligcnec nnd ills intimate knowledge of tile French language autl French nientatity would linve made liini a vahmble Maisou oflicer. Indeed, at otic moment he cherished the hope that he tnight accompany bis friend Gcueiul * Aimitm Sgyftiim Atamthimi hUmduction Sir John Majcwcll to the Fi-ont, but jis at Uie maiueiit the jolting oC a ta>d c-utisetl him almost unUearahle pain, he had to content himself with such work as he could llnd bo do at home. Nevertheless, when his brother Aubrey Herbert, to whom he was specially devoted, was wounded and lost during the retreat from Mons, he was preparing to go, pain or no pain, to hunt for him in bis motor, wiien tiie news of Aubrey’s escape arrived. At a latca* stage of the war to attempt sueh an adventure would liave licen unthinkable, Inrt at tliat ciisis, immediately after tile victory of Uie Marne, tiefore Uie war had hanleiied into a war of trenches, it is just possible tliat Carnar¬ von’s mingled resource and ealmness might have been successful. It was characteristic that quite a week before WOT was declared, being convinced that it was immi- nent, and belicAnng that food shortage would be the immediate danger, he quietly made preparations for feeding the population on tiis property. Tlie beauty of his scheme lay in tlie fact that it did not entail 11 nut on the sliops. Tlie potatoes remained in the held, tlie com in the ricks, tliough ready when the pinch came to be doled out, carefully rationed, to tile little community of 23il souls for whom he held himself responsible. As we know, he Imd misdated lliat pjui:icular peril, and quick to realise Itts mistakes, he promptly turned his energies in otlicr directions* From Uie very ouLbr^tk t»i’ the war. Lord and Ludy Ciimorvon converted Highderc into an otJlcers’ hospital, whieli was subsequently transferrtvi to 38 Uryunstoii Square, and whetlier in town or country noted for the tender and efllcicut care of 33 Introduction its inmates. After Lady Caniar\*on moved lier hos¬ pital to Loncloii, Carnarvon occupied liimself, amongst other tilings, in promoting the conversion of pasture at Highclere into arable land. lie was wdl seconded by ills old and attached employees, and was more successful than tliose who knew the thin chalk soil dared to hope. Wliile alone, on one of his periodical visits to Highctere, he was smed ivitli appendicitis. Lady Carnarvon accompanied by surgeons and doc¬ tors rushed dgnn and carried him oH to the hospital in London, where he was promptly operated upon. And thus in all probahility itivas owing to tiie hospital this husband and wife liad founded that his life was eventually saved, for nowhere else, at tiiat particular time, could he have obtained the same unremitting care. It was, however, a close call. The great surgeon. Sir Berkeley Mo^'nihau, who was summoned from Leeds to liis bedside, admitted that he himself had only given him anotlier three-quarters of an hour to live. Ijord Carnarvon afterwards declared that, ilrougli he realized his danger, he was convinced that his sufferings were too acute to allow him to die. True to his inextinguishable sense of humour, even at this crisis, be contrived to moke a joke and was surprised that it did not seem to amuse Iiis medico] attendants. “ It was not much of a joke, but still there was a point to it and only George fhis very devoted ser\'nut] smiled,” lie complained. In til e drcrtimstanccs, the doctors might be oicused, for it was something of a niiraclc when their patient pulled llirough. lie himself ascribed his recovery to his wifeV resource and exertions and to the skill and devotion with which she surrounded him — 24 Introduction devotion readily giveii, for his nurses adored a patient who, even in extremis^ renmined considerate and courtcous- Two years later, he bad to underfto another vital operation, and again be recovered, and seemed to have got a firmer grip of life* By that time, moreover, Uic war had come to an end, and his only son, who had fought through tlie Mteopotamiaa campaign, was once more safe at home at his side. This was an untold relief to Carnarvon, He was too true an Englishman to grudge his boy to the country's service, but in many little wajrs he showed how greatly he felt tlie strain Habitually tiie most reserved of men, when one of the pencil lettcu^ reached him, for wliich so many hungry hearts yearned in those dark das’®, he would hurry round to read the precious epistle to a sympathetic audience. And from the moment of the young soldier’s eni' barkation “ my boy’s ’* little fox terrier never left Ms side. Carnarvon’s love for his children played a great part in Jiis life. He thoroughly enjoyed their com- panionsliip, and perhaps even more Uic evident pleasure they took in his society. His love for tliera enlarged Ids outlook on life as a whole, or rather perhaps swept a^vay the remnant of tlie constitutional reserve which sometimes set a veil between his true self and tl»e outer world. He who, as a iriend said, laughed Uirough life,” and, in especial, laughed at Iiimseif and his tribulations, confessed himself sur- prisetl at the extent that fear for thdr welfare could penetrate his defensive armour. Wticn anxious about his daughter, his gallant little gibes deserted him. “1 cannot tell you how this has upset me,” as Introduciion h« wrote, “J realiy can’t sleep or eat. I bad no idea that anything could worry tiie so.“ And il ifi doubthil whetlicr the great discoTerv iudf would not have lost half its savour daughter, his inseparable companion, had not becu there to sliare in the nipture of tliat auiuiung revelation. Evcji during the Wiu* Lord Carnarvon had made efforis to get to Egj’pt. In fact, but for a bad attack of pleurisy which at the last moment detained him lu England, lie would have arrived at Cairo tlje verv day the Turks made their unsueccssftil onslaught on the Canal. Naturally, as soon as the Aniiistice was signetl, he took stqjs to rejoin !llr. Cartert \vho in the intervals of his war work at G.H.Q. in Cairo had Wen able to start prelindnaiy investigaUons m Tlie Vaiiej' of tlie Kings. Journeys were, howcwtT, no easy matter in 191b. With great difficulty berths were procured on a lioat. which was protected diwing the crossing by paravanea to avoid the disaster that had recently overtaken u t’rench ship, sunk by a floating mine, But mines were a less danger than Uic sanibiry condition of the iKMit. She had served as a tr^pship durimf the war. had not yet heen disiufect*^, and was packcjl witli Arabs U> be landed at lii-^erta. Happily the joiinicy was short, but in Dial short space there was mucli sickness and a few deaths. The joumej' so inauspidously begun did not im- prwe as time went on. It was a iierioil of unrttst m Egypt, and it ivas fortunate that Caruaivtiirs dmre to explore the Eayum witli a view to excavations bvouglit the piu.t3- hark wulicr (Jiau usiiHl from Luxor to Cm-o. Everything had been 3* Introduction ttminffetl for the Fa^-mii cspedition^ mid the )ujur for tile departure fixed, when, the evening bel'ore the starti, Camarvou r eceived sucli disquieting report a of the sihiatioa in the provinees tliat lie decideil lo defer tlie journey. It was » lucky decision, since the next tiny witnessed the beginning of trouble in the Fayiun, lUid in a day or two, as lie himself wrote, “the country ivas in a state of anarchy. During a lull in the general disorder,’* he con¬ tinues, “ I uunaged to pack off rny family to Port Said, tmd I well Tcmembcr hoir relieved I was to get a telegram to say tliey had embarked s.afe]y,” As for himself he remained on for o time in Cairo, partly in tl)c hope of being able to achieve sonic more digging, but also because he was genuinely interested in tJic situation. As Sir WUlimn Garstin remarks, “ It was Carnarvon's interest in Egyi»toiogy that first drew him to Egypt. He very soon, however, became much interest^ in Egyptian politics. He had a great liking for tlie Egyptians and for those who were trying to restore her as a nation, and he showed a syin|jathetic interest in tlietii to which they readily responded. Few Eugiislunen. Iiave been more likol in Egy|)t, and the sorrow that was evinced at his death was universal and sincere/*^ Sir William Gaia tin’s estimate of Lurd Carnarvon’s position in Egypt is fully confirmed by Sir ,lolm Jdaxwell, also a great authority on Egyptian politics. “He was one of tJie few Englishmen, " he says, “who realized and appre¬ ciated what Egypt did for us during the war, and how fliilicidt it would have been for us bad she taken an unfriendly attitude i also that a loyal, cun- 37 Introdtiction tested friend os our Eastern cominunicatiotis was infinitely preferable to a sullen, disconteiited enemy. He was oonv^tneed Uiat the former could be accora- plished. He was a gr>od and patient listener and gained the conlitlence of many of Uic best class in Egypt. Both in London and at TTighclcrc he enter* taiued the E^^itian delegations. Alt were appred- ative of his hospitality and eonsi deration and all felt tlmt, in his death, they had lost a real Mend of their eountf^'.” As the days passed* it became evident, however, tiiat any w’ork for that season was out of the ques¬ tion, He was needed in England and he decided to leave. This was not easy and he was about to charter a sailing boat, when he obtained a passage home. Lord Carnarvon was fated to pay several more visits to Egypt. After his operation In 1019 witUe scarcel}'' convalescent, he insisted on leaving for Luxor at the usual season and there recovered his health and strength. A description of Tut'ankh*Amca*s tomb and its discovoy docs not fall within the province of tliis sketdi* which concerns the man rather than the archieologist. Carnarvon was never addicted to self- analysis, and Uiough he could give detailed de¬ scriptions of the beautiful objects discovered in Uie tomb, words failed liim to express the effect on himself personally of the actual discovery. He could only assure his hearers that it was “ a very exciting moment ” I Nor, unlike most events, as the weeJ^ passed, did the excitement wane for the public or for Ixird Carnarvon; and naturally, perhaps, to uo one more than to him did tiiese successive revelations bring delight. “ He was as 38 Introduction happy as lie ivas modest/’ said a distinguished schol^. In this sad world it would seem that triumphs have to be paid for in weariness of soul and body. It was a glorious episode, but when the tomb nns closed for the season. Lord Carnarvon was very tired, A mosquito bit him, the wound got poisoned, and though wife and daughter, doctors and nurses, fought valiantly for bis life it was a losing fight. Through those long tliree weeks of pain and misery he remained hb old gallant self. Readers of the bulletins may remember that the gloomiest generally coDcluded with an assurance tliat the patient’s spirits were good. But he hirnself had no illusions* 1 have heard the call,” he said to a friend, “ I am preparing.*^ On the eth of April, 1923, he passed away. Ill his will he expressed the wish to be buried on Beacon Hill, It was, therefore, on the sununit of the great do^vn overlooking the home that he hod so passionately loved, that he was laid to rest. Only hb nearest and dearest, and a few workmen and servants, many of whom had grown grey in hb soi^'ice, stood around the grave, hut tliese too he had ac¬ counted part of hb family, and their lament, “Of course, he was my master, but he was my friend too,“ was the epitaph he would hiuisdf have chosen. Organ* music, choristers, there were none at thb burying. The beautiful old office, commending the body of our dear brother to Uie ground in sure and certain hope,** bad something of the stark grandeur of a funeral at sea. But the whole air was alive with the springtide song of tlie larks. Tlicy sang deliriously, in a passion of ecstasy wliich can never 39 Introduction )>e rorgotten. by those ivhu hoard tiiat song. And so we left liim. feeiiug that tlie ending was in lumiioii}* with llie life, a *'‘t(cre, b<^'s' bis place, wbetd iiu!tc<u;s shoots douds fatm, J^htnlngs arc loes^ed, Stazs eomc and go I Let jny break tbe%t4xnnr~ Peace let the dew send 1 Lofty design must close in like ellcct^ t Loftily lying, Leave him — still loftier th^ the World tni.spctitis;, Living, and dying.” WINIFllED J3UKGHCLEBE. Tice Laee, lICflHCLEnE, September 17, 1D23L THE TOMB OF TUT ANKH AMEN CHAPTER 1 The Kikg and the Ql'jeen A FEW preliminary words about Tutankh' Amen, the king whose name the whole ' world knows, and who in that sense prob* ably needs an introduction Jess than anyone in historj'. He was the son-m-law^ as everyone knows, of that most WTiticn-about, and probably most over¬ rated, of all the Egyptian Pharaolis, the heretic king Akli’cn-Ateiu Of Ms parentage we know notliing. He may Jmve been of the blood royal and had some indirect claim to the throne on liis own account* lie may on tJie other hand have been a mere commoner. The point is immaterial, for, by his marriage to a king's daughter, he at once, by Egyptian law of suc- c^sion, became a potential heir to the Uitaue, A ha^sardous and uncomfoTtablc position it must have been to fill at Uiis particular stage of lus country's history. Abroad, the Empire founded in the fifteenth century b,c* by Thothmes m, and held, witli dilK- eulty it is true, but still licld, by suececdiiig monarehs, Iiad crumpled up like a priced ballooiL At home di^lisfaetion was rife. Tlic priests of the ancient faitn, ivlio had seen their gods flouted and their very livchliood compromised, were straining at the leash, only waiting the most convenient E H The Tomb of Tut-ankh^Amen moment to slip it altogether ; the soldier class, con¬ demned to a mortified inaction^ were seetliing wjtli discontent, imct apt for any form of excitement : tlte foreigti harim elemenl, women who had l>cen introduced into the Court and into the families of soldiers in such large numbers since the wars of conquest, were now, at a time of weakness, a sure and certain focus of Entriguc: tltc manufacturers and merchants, os foreign trade declined and home credit WAS diverted to a local and extremely circiunscribed area, were rapidly becoming sullen and discontented: Uie common populace^ intolerant of change, grieving, many of them, at the loss of their old familiar gods, and ready enough to attribute any loss, deprivation, or tnisfortime, to the jealous intervention of these offended deities, were eiianging slow'Iy from bewilder* meat to active resentment at the new heaven and new earth that had been decreed for them. And throu^ it all jUdi-en-Alcn, Gnllio of Collios, dreamt his life away at Tell d Amama. The question of a successor was a one f<ir tJie whole country, and w'c may be sure that in¬ trigue was rampant. Of male heirs there was none, ajid biterest centres on a group of little girls, (he eldest of whom could not have been more tlinn fifteen at the time of her father’s deatli. Young as she was, this eldest princess, lilerl-Aten by name, liad already been married some little while, for in the last year or two of Akli cn-Atcu’s reign w’e find her husl>iind associated with him as co-regcnt, a vain attempt to avert the crisis which c^'cn the arch-dreamer Akh cn'Aten must have felt to be in¬ evitable. Her taste of queenship was but a short one, for Smenkh-ka-Rc, her husband, died within a 1*1 tTK I ST.mJE <>l KI^f; TUT' WKtl'AMJ.N'. Ortr of lllr SlAhit'i fjiiirtUrJK ibr llini^i- >rHlril tbrtifkVRf, Tfie King and the Queen short while of Akh-cn Alen. He niay even, os e\'i- dcnce in this tomb seems to show, liavc predeceased him, and it is quite iiossible that he met his death at the liands of a rival faction. In any case he disappears, and his wife with him, and the ttirone was open to the next claimant. Tlie second daughter, IVlakt’Atcn, died unmarried in A kh-en- Aten’s lifetime. The tliird, Ankh-es-en-pn* Aten, w'as married to Tut- ankii- Aten as he llien was, the Tut'ankh- Amen with whom we are now so familiar. Just when this marriage took place is not certain. It may liave been in jlkh*en' Aten’s life¬ time, or it may have been contracted hastily ini- mediately after Ills death, to legalize his cloiin to the throne. In any event they were but childroi. Anklres*eirpa*Aten was bom in the ciglith year of her lather’s reign, and therefore cannot have been more than ten ; and we have reason to believe, from interna] evidence in the tomb, that Tut»ankh*Anien himself was little more tiian a boy. Clearly in the first years of (Jiis reign of children there must have been a poivcr behind the throne, and we can be tolenibly certain who tins power w'as. In ail coun¬ tries, but more particularly in those of tlie Orient, it is a wise rule, in cases of doubtful or weak suc¬ cession, to pay particular attention to Uie move¬ ments of the most powerfiil Oiurt oiiicial. In the Tdl cl Amama Court tliLs was a certain Ay, Chief Priest, Court Oiamberlain, and practically Court everything cLse. He himself was a close personal friend of Akli-en* Aten’s, and Ids wife Tyi ivas nurse to Ibc royal wife NcfcTtiti, so we may be quite sure Utcrc was nothing that went on in Uic palace that they did not know. Now, looking ahead a little we The Tomb of TuVankh^Amen find that it tvas tbt» .same Ay who secured the throne himself after Tut*aiikh’ Amen*s death. We also know, froni tlic occurrence of his eartoucl^c in the sepul¬ chral chamber of the newly found tonib, that he made htmseir responsible for the burial ceremonies of Tut'ankh’Amcn. even if he liimsdf did not actually construct the tomb. It is quite unprecedented in The Valley to find the name of a succeeding king ujKm the walls of his predecessor’s sqndcliral monu^ ment. Tlic fact that it was so in this case seems to imply a special relationship between the two, and we sliall probably be safe in assuming that it was Ay w*ho was largdy responsible for establisliing tjie boy king upon tlic throne. Quite [lossibly he hod designs upon it himself already, but, not feeUng secure cnougli for the moment, preferred to hide his time and utilize Use opportunities he would im* doubtedly liave; as minister to a young and itiex- perienced sovereign, to cons^^lidatc his ])osttioii. It is interesting to speculate, and vt-hen we remember that Ay in liTs tiim was supplanted by anutlier of the leading offietals of AMi-en* Aten’s reign, the General Ilor'cm hcb, mid that neither of them bad any real claim to tlie throne, we can be reasomihiy sure that in tliis little by-way of history, from 1375 to 1353 B.C., tlierc was a well set stage for dramatic happenings. However, as seif- respecting liistomns, let us [ml aside tiie tempting “ might have beens ” and “ probablys " and come back to the cold hard facts of iiistory. Whal. do we really know about Hits Tutankh-Ameit witli whom we have become so surprisingly famjltor 'i Hcmurkably Utile, wben you come right doivn Lo it. In Lite present state of our 44 The King and the Qneefi knowledge we niiglit say witlt tnitJi tiiat the one oot- sttmding feature of liia life was the fact tliiit he dicfl and was buried. Of the juan lilmself — if indeed he ever arrived at the dignity of manliood — luid of his personal character we know noUuug. Of the events of his short reign we can glcun a iiLLle, a very little, from the nionunients. We know, for iustunce. Unit ai some time during Ills reign he abandoned the luiretic capital of hb father-ixL'-law, and removed the Court back to Thebes, Tliat he began as an Aten worslupper, and reverted to the old religion, is evident from his name Tut*aiikh*Ateii, changed to Tut*aiikti'Aincn, and from the fact tliat he made some slight additions and restorations to Uie temples of tlic old gods at Thebes, There is also a stela in tlie Cairo Museum, which originally stood in one of tlie Karnak temples, in whidi lie refers to these temple restorations in someivhat grandiloquent language. I found,” he isays, ” the temples Tallea into ruin, a*ith their holy places overthrown, and their courts overgrown with weeds. I reconstructed tiieir sanctuaries, 1 rc-endovred the temples, and made tliem gifts of idE precious tilings. 1 east statues of the gods in gold and electrum, decorated with lapis lasniU and all fine stones.”* We do not know at what particular period in his reign this change of religion twk place, nor ivh ether it was due to personal feeling or was dictated to him for political reasons, Wc know from the tomb of one of his officials tlmt certain tribes in Syria and in the Sudan were subject to hun and brought him tribute, and on ^Th&t tlcl^p paHi 4tf vlilch atc rou^ly LrasulAled DllO^'^« vu iuIh c{|ii«iiiiy iuiirp«l by HoMim'hcbp ni utm^i^t Ttit'Onkb'Apieti^i moEMiiiufbtji* 45 The Tomb of Tut-ankhAnien many of the objects in his own tomb wc see him trampling with great gusto on prisoners of w'or, and shooting l3iem by hundreds from his clmriot, but we must by no means take for granted, that bo ever in actual fact took tlie field himself, Egyptian ition^ orchs were singularly tolerant of such polite fictions. That pretty well exhausts tlie facts of liis life as w'e know Uiem from the monuments. From hi# tomb, so far, there is singularly little to add. We arc getting to know^ to last detail what he had, but of what he was and what he did wc are still sadly to seek. There is nothing yet to give us the exact lengtl) of Ids reign. Six years u*e knew before as a mmiinuni ; much more than that it cannot have been. ^Ve can only hope tliat tfie inner cii ambers will be more communicative. His body, if, as we hope and expect, it still lies beneath the slwines within the sepulchre, will at least tell us his age at death, and may possibly give us some clue to the circumstances. Just a word as to his wife, Ankh'CS'cn’pa'Aten as she was known originally, and Ankh'e5‘en*Amcn after Uie reversion to Thebes. As the one through whom the king inherited, she was a person of con^ fiiderabie importance, and lie mokes due ocknow* ledgment of tiic fact by tiie frequency with which her name and person appear upon the tomb rumiturc, A graceful figure she was, too, unless her portraits do her more than justice, and her friendly re!att<in5 with her husband are inatsted on in true Tdl el Aniama style. There arc two particularly charming representations of her. In one, on the back of the throne (Plate U), she anoints her husband with per¬ fume ; in the other, she accompanies him on a shooting 46 Pl.ATL ]1 HA( :k PANtL OF Tilt: TUR^iNt; UF4^i<'n>Jf; TOK ani> THE QUEEN. The King and the Qtieen expedition, end is represented crouching at his feet, handing him an arrow with one hand, and with the other pointing out to him a particularly fat duck which she fears may escape his notice. Charming pictures thrae, and pathetic, too, when we reiuembci tliat at seventeen or eiglilecn years of age the wife was left a widow. VVeJi, perhaps. On the other hand, if we know’ our Orient, perhaps not, for to this story there is a sequel, provided for us hy a number of tablets, found some years ago in the ruins of Boghozkcui, and only recently deciphered. An interesting little tale of intrigue it outllneSp and in a few words w’e get a ciearer picture of Queen Ankh'es*en*Amcn tlian Tut*ankli'Amen was able to adueve for himself in his entire equipment of funeral fumiture. She was, it seems, a lady of some force of character. The idea of retiring into the background in favour of a new queen did not appeal to her, and immediately upon the deatii of her husband slie began to scheme. She had, we may presimie, at least two months* grace, the time tliat must elapse between Tut-ankhAmeii’^s deatii and burial, for iintil the last king was buried it was hardly likely that the new one would take over tlie reins. Now, in tlie imst two or three reigns tiiere had been con¬ stant intermarriages between the royal houses of Egypt and Asia. One of Auklves'en’Amen's sisters had been sent in marriage to a foreign court, and many ^yptologists think that licr own mother was an Asiatic princess. It was not snip rising, then, that in tills crisis she should look abroad for hdp, and vre find her writing a letter to the King of the Hittites in the following terms : ** My husband 47 The Tomb of Tut’ankh'Amen is dead and 1 atn to!d Lhat you Imvc grown-up sons. Send me ooc of theni^ and I wiiJ tnake bim nay hitsbandt and he shall be king over Egypt/’ It was a shrewd move on her part, for there was no real heir to the throne in Egypt, and the swift dispateii of a Hittite prince, Midi a reason¬ able force to back him up, would probably have brought off a very successful coup. Promptitude, however, was the one essential, and here Uie queen was reckoning without the ^ttite king. Huny in any matter was well outside Iiis calculations. It would never do to be rushed into a scheme of this sort without due deliberation, and how did he know that the letter was not a trap ? So he summoned his counsellors and tlie matter was talked over at length. Eventually it was decided to send a messenger to Eg3*pt to 'investigate tJic truth of the story. “Where,” he writes in his reply — and you can sec him patting himself on tlic back for his shrewdness — “is the son of tlic late king, and what has become of Jiim ? ” Now, it took some fourteen days for a mraseager to go from one country to the other, so the poor queen’s feelings can be imagined, when, after a monUi's waiting, she received, in answer to her rt-quest, not a prince and a husband, but a dilatory futile Irtter, Jn despair she writes again; “ Why sh^ld I deceive you ? f have no son, and my husband is dead. Send me a son of yours and I wifi make him king.” Tlie Hittite king noiv decidcfl to accede to her request and t(i send a son, hut it is evidently too kite. The time hod gone by. The document breaks off here, and it is left to our ima^natiun to (iil in the rest of the story. The King and the Queen Did tiie Bittite prince ever start for P^gypt, and IiOw fw did he get ? Did Ay, the new king, get wind of Aiikh’cs'cn ’Amenta sclicmings and take eJlectual steps to bring them to naught ? We shall never know. In any case the queen disappears from the scene and we liear of lier no more. It is^ a fasei> nating little tale. Had tlie plot succeeded there would' never have been a Rameaes the Great, 49 CHAPTER U The Vaij*ey akh nni Toub The TaUey of the Tombs of the Kings — the very name is ftiH of romance, and of all wonden» there is none, 1 sup|>ose^ that makes a more instant appeal to tlie imagination. Here, in this lonely valley-head, remote from every sound of life, with the “Horn," the highest peak in the Theban liills, standing sentinel like a natural pyramid above them, lay thirty or more king^ amoug them the greatest Egypt ever knew. Thirty were buried liere. Now, probably, but two remain — Amcndictep II — whose mummy may be seen by the curious lying in his sarcophagus — ^and 'Fut'ankh- Amen, who still remains intact beneath his golden shrine. There, wlien the claims of science have been satished, we hope to leave him lying. 1 do not propose to attempt a word picture of The Valley itself — that has been done too often in the past few montlis. I would like, however, to devote a certain amount of time to its history, for that is essential to a proper understanding of our present tomb. Tucked away in a comer at the extreme end of TJie Valley, half concealed by a projecting bastion of rock, lies tlie entrance to a very unostentatious tomb. It is easily overlooked and rarely visited, but it has a very special interest as being the first ever constructed in The Vallej'. More than tJiat; it so Pi.*Tn rn ROAt> TO TTfK TOMBS OF Tilt: KINGS* m The Valley and the Tomb is notable as an experinicnt in a new theory of tomb desi^. To the Egyptian it was a matter of vital impoortanco tliat Ills t^y should rest inviolate in the place constructed for it, and this the eadier kings had thought to ensure by erecting over it a very mountain of stone. It was also essential to a imimmy's welbbcing that it should be fully equipped against every need, and, in the case of a luxurious anri dtsplay-loWiig Oriental monarch, this would naturally involve a lavish use of gold and other treasure. The result was obvious enoiigb. The very mugtuGcence of the monument was its undoing and within a few generations at most the mumnty would be disturbed and its treasure stolen. Various expedi¬ ents were tried ; the entrance passage — naturally the weak spot in a pyramid— was plugged with granite monoliths weighing many tons ; false passages were constructed; secret doors w'ere contrived; every- tliing that ingenuity could suggest or wealth could purciiase was employed. Vain labour all of it, for by patience and perseverance the tomb robl>er in every cose surmotmted the rlifBcultics that were set to balSe him. Moreover, the success of these expedients, and therefore tlic safety of Uic monument itself, was largely dependent on the good will of the mason who carried Out the work, and tlic ardiitect wI»o dc- sigiicd it. Careless w'orkmanship would leave a danger point in the best planned defences, and, in private tombs at any rale, we know that an ingress for plunderers was sometimes contrived by the ofhcials who planned the work. Efforts to secure tlie guarding of the royal monU' ment were equally unavailing, A king might leave enormous endowments — as a matter of fact each 51 IrjJi The Tomb of TuPankh'Amen kin^ did — fot tJie upkeep of large coRipanles of pjmimid officials and gimpdians, but after a titne these very ofiiciais ^-cre ready enough to eoiiui\’^ at the x>lundcring of the monument they were paid to guard, while the endowments were suret at the end of the dynasty at latest, to bt^ di’^^crt.cd by some subsequent king to other purposes. At Uic begin¬ ning of the Eighteenth Dynasty there was hardly a king’s tomb in the whole of Egypt that hod not been rifled— a somewhat grisly thought to tlie monarch who was choosing the site for his own last resting place. Thothmes I evidently found it so, and devoted a good deal of tliouglit to tlte problem, and as a result we get the lonely little tomb at tlig ficad of The Valley, Secrecy was to be the solution to tlie problem, A prcliminjiry step in this direction had been token by hts predecessor, Ainen-hctep I, who made Im tomb some distance away from his funerary temple, on the eummit of the Drab Abu’l Ncggn foot-hills, hidden beneath a stone, but this was carrj’ing it a good deal further. It ^vas a drastic break with tradition, and w'c may be sure tltat lie hesitated long before he made the decision. In the first place his pride would suffer, for love of ostentation was ingrainod in every Egj'^ptian monarch and in his tomb more than any¬ where else he was accustomed to dtsplay it. Then, too, the new arrangement w'oulil seem likely to cause a certain amount of inconvenience to his rnuRuny. The early funerary raonuments had always, In immediate proximitj* to the actual place of burial, a temple in which the due ceremonies were performed at the various yearly festival*, and daily offerings were made. Now tliere was to be no momi- Ttie Valley and the Tomb mcnt over the tomb itsetf* and tlie funerary temple in which tlie o0eriiigs were made was to be situated a mile or so away, on tiie other side of the hill. It was certainly not a convenient arrangement, but it wjvs nccessor^’^ if the secrecy of the tomb was to be kept, and secrecy King Thothmes had decided OD, the one chance of escaping Utc fate of his pmicecssors. Tlie construction of tltis hidden tomb was en¬ trusted by Thotlimcs to Ineni, ttis ciiief architect, and in Uie biography which w’as inscribed on the wall of iiis funerary chapel Incni has put on record the secrecy with wMcli Uie work was carried out. “1 superm tended the excavation of the diff tomb of His Majesty,” he tells us, “ alone, no one seeing, no one hearing.** Unfortunately he omits to tdl us anything almut tlie workmen he employed. It is sufficiently obvious that a hundred or more lab¬ ourers with a knowledge of the king’s dearest secret would never be olltiwcd at large, and we can be quite sure that Inem found some effectual means of stopping their mouths. Conceivably the work was carried out by prisoners of war, who were slaughtered at its completion. How Jong the secret of Uiis paiiiculnr tomb held we do not know. Probably not long, for what secret was ever kept in Egypt ? At tlie time of iU discovery in 1899 little remained in it but the massive stone sarcophagus, anil tJie king himself was moved, as we know, first of all to the tomb of his daughter Hat'shep-sut, and subsequently, with tlie other royal mumniies, to Dcir cl Baliai’t. In any ca.se, whether the hiding of tlie tomb was temporarily successful or not, a new fashion had been set, and the rciututl- ing kings of tliis Dynasty, together with those of S3 Tlte Tomb of TuVankh-Amen the Nineteenth and Twentieth, were all buried in The N^allcy. The idea of secrecy did not long prei'ail. From the nature of tilings it could not, and tlie later kings seirm to ha%'c accepted tlic fact, and gone back to the old plan of making their tombs conspicuous. Now that it had become tlic established custom to place all the royal tombs witliin u V'cry restricted area they may have thought that tomb-robbery was seemely provided against, seeing that it was very much to the reigning king’^s interest to sec tliat the royal burial site was protected. If they did, tiicy mightily deceived themselves. We know froiu in¬ ternal evidence that Tut'ankh Amen’s tomb a'os entered by robbers witlun ten, nr at most fifteen, years of his death. We also know, from graffUi in the tomb of Tliotlimcs IV, that tlmt monarch too bad suffered at the hands of plunderers within a very few years of lus burial, for we find King Hor-cm-hcb in the eighth year of Ins reign issuing instructions to a certain high official named May a to “renew the burial of Xing Thotlunes IV, justified, in the Precious Habitation in W'estem iliebes." They must Itave been bold spirits who made the venture: tliey were evidently in a great hurry, and we have reason to bclien'e Uiat they were caught in the act. If so, we may lie sure they died dcatlis that were lingering and ingenious. Strange sights Tlie Valley must have seen, and desperate the ventures tliat look place in it. One can iniaginc the plotting for days beforehand, Uie secret rendezvous on the cliff by night, the bribing or drugging of the cemetery guards, and tJien the desperate burrowing in the dark, the scramble The Valley and the Tomb thiougli a small hole into tiie burial-di amber, tJie hectic search by a glinmicrm|f light for treasure that portable, and the return home at dawn laden witli booty. We can imagine these thin^, and at the some time we can realize how meWtahle it all wiis. By providing his mummy with the elaborate and costly outfit which he thought essentia] to its dignity, the king was himsdf compassing its dcstruc^ tion, llje temptation was too great. Wealth beyond the dreams of avarice lay there at tlie dis{>osal of whoever should find the means to reach it, and sooner or later the tomb-robber was bound to win through. For a few generations, under tlie powerful kings of the Eighteentii and Nineteenth Dynasties, The Valley tombs must have been reasonably secure. Plunder* ing on a big scale would be impossible ivithout the wnmvance of the officials concerned. In tlie Twen¬ tieth Dynasty it was quite another storj'. There WCTC weaklings on the tlirone, a fact of which the official classes, as ever, were quick to take advan¬ tage, Cemetery guardians became lajE and venial, and a re^r orgj’ of grave-robbing seems to have set m. Tills is a fact of which we liave actual first-hand evidence, for there have come down to us, dating from tile reign of Hatneses JX, a series of papvTi dealing with this very subject, with reports of investigations into charges of tomb-robheiy. and accounts of the trial of the criminals concerned, Tliey are extraordinarily interesting documents. We get from them, in addition to very valuable informa tion about the tombs, something whicii Egyptian documents as a rule singularly lack, a stoiy wiUi a real human^element in it, and we are enabled to see S3 The Tomb of T'ut'ankk^Ameji right into tlie tnincls of j) group of i>fliciats who lived in Thebes three tlioujsand years ago* Tite leading cltaractcxs in liie stoiy are three, IChaiiiwcse, the vizier, or govemetr of the district, Pcser, Ujc mayor of tliat part of llie city which iay on the east hank, and Pewero, the mayor of tlie western side, tsi-ojficio guardian of the necropolis. The bvo latter were evidently, one niiglit say naturally, on bad terms : each was jealous of tlie other, Goii* sequenUy, Pcser was not ill pleased to receive one day rejK>rts of tomb-jdundering on an extensive scale that was going on on the western bank. Here was a clianee to get liis rival into trouble, so he has* tened to report tlie matter to the vizier, giving, somewhat foolishly, exact llgures as to the tombs whicJi hail been entered— ten royal tombs, four krrijihs of the priestesses of Amen, and a long list of private tombs On the following day Klioniwcse sent a party of ofhcials across Ihe rii'cr to confer with Pewero, and to mvesUgate the charges. The results of tjtcir Investigations were as follows. Of the ten royal turn bs, one was found to have been actually broken into, and attempts had been made on two of the others. Of the priestesses* tombs, two were pillaged and two were intact. The jirivote tombs had oil been plun¬ dered * These facts were hailed by Pewero as a complete vindication of his administration, an opinion which the vizier appamitJy endorsed. The plunder¬ ing of tlic private tombs was cynically iidintltcil, but what of tlml *i To people of our class what do the tombs of private individuais matter ? Of Uie four pnestesses* tombs two were plundered and two were not. Balance the one agiunst the other, and what 56 Tlte Valley and the Tomb cause lias auj^one to gnimble? Of the ten 103'a] tombs mentioned by Peser only one had acttiallv been entered: only one out of ten, so dearly his 'whole storj’ was a tissue of lies ! Thtis Pewero, on the principle, apparently, that if you are accused of ten murders and are only found guilty of onc^ you leave the court without a stain on your cKamcter. As a celebration of liis trluniph Pewero col¬ lected next day inspector, the necropolis administrators, tlie workmen, the police, and all the labourers of the necropolis *' and sent Uiem as a body to the east side, with instructions to make a triumphant parade throughout the town gcncrallv, but particularly in Uie ndglibourhood of Peser ’s house. You may be sure they carried out this latter part of their imtmctions quite faithfully, Peser bore it as tong as he could, but at last lits feelings got too much for liim, and in an altercation witli one of the western officials lie atmotmeed his in¬ tent ton, in frenl of witnesses, of reporting the w'hole matter to the king lumself. This was a fatal error, of which his rival was quick to take advantage. In a letter to the vizier he accused the unfortunate Peser— first, of questioning the good faith of a com- mtsston appointed by his direct superior, and secondly, of going over the head of that superior, and stating liis case directly to tlie king, a proceeding at which the virtuous Pewexo threw up his hands in horror, as contrary to all custom and subvraaive of all dis- cipltuc. This was the cud of Peser. The offended vizier summoned a court, a court in which the im- liappy man, as a judge, was bound himself to sit, and in it he was tried for perjury and found guilty. That in brief is the story: it is told at fiili The Tomb of Tut^ankh*Anien length in Vol* I\’r pax*. 409 R., of Breasted^s “Ancient Records of Egypt.” It Ls tolerably dear &um it that both the Qiayor and tixe vizier were thenuielv^ implicated in the robberies in question. Ttxe gation they made was evidently a blind* for within a year or two of these proceedings we find other cases of tomb-robhing cropping up in the Court records* and at least one of the tombs in question occurs in Pcscr*s original list. Tiie leading spirits in this company of cemetery thieves seem to have been a gang of eight men, five of whose names have come down to us — ^Uxe stone-cutter Kapi, the artisan Iramen, the peasant Amcn-em'heb, the water-carrier Keniwcsc, and the negro slave Elhenefor, They were eventually appre* hended on the charge of having desecrated tiie royal tomb referred to in the investigation, and we have a full account of their trial. It began, according to custom, by beating the prisoners “ with a double rod, smiting tlieir ft-et and Uxeir hands*’* to assist their memories. Under this Btimulua they made full confession. The opemng sentences in the confession are mublatcd in the text* but they cvb dently describe bow the thieves tunnelled tlirough the rock to the burial chamber, and found the king and queen in their siircopliagi : “ We penetrated them all, we found her resting likewise.'* The text gots on - “ We opened their cofTms, and tticir covcn'ags in which they ii'cre. We found the august mxunmy of this king. . . . Thi:re wa^ a numemut hiit of amulets and oirta- ments of gcild at its ttiroal ; its liead liuti a irinsk of gold upon iti the augast lanTruny of this king was ovcrlEud with gold througliout. its coverings were wrougfit with 58 vmi* ov i'nii noifAf, cicaictinhy with ns (;i.f,Mii>iAN prvk aihivt:, The Valley and the Tomb gold Qnd feivtr, n’Jtiiln <md \vitbaut ; iiiliUl with creiy costly stone. We stripped off the gold, wJittdi wc found on the fiiigufit mummy of tins god, and its amulets and otna- mrnts whieJi wore &t ita throat, and the covering ‘wbcfcin it fcsted* We found the king's wife likewise j wc stripped off all that wc found on. her likewise. We set fire to their coverings. We stoic thdr fuimture, whicit we found with them, being vases of gold, silver, and bronze. We dividt-d, nnd made the gold which wc found oil tlwise two gods, on Ihctr tnuitiinies, and the amulets, ornaments and covcriiunL into eight |wrts.” * On this confession they were found guilty, aiul removed to the house of detention, until such b'me ns the king himself might determine their punishment. In spite of this trin! and a number of otliers of a similar character, matters in Tlie Valley went rapidly jbad to worse. The tombs of Amen, hetep III, Seti L, and Itameses II, are mentioiied in the Court records as Iming been broken into, anti in the following Dynasty all attempts at guarding^ the tombs seem to have been abandoned, and we lind the royal mummies being move<l about from sepulchre to sepulchre in a desperate effort to preserve tiiem. Rameses lU, for instance, was disturbed and rc-buried Uirce times at least in tliis Dynasty, nnd otlicr kings known to liave been trans¬ ferred include Ahmes, Amen-iictcp I, Thothmes II, and even Rameses the Great himself. In tliis last case the docket states : — “ Veat 17, Ihinl umntlj of the sccoud scaaon, day «, day of bringing Osiris, Kuig UacrtnausSctcpncrc {Haiue^ II), to bury him again, In the tomb of Osiris, King Miivma-Rc- Seti (I) * by the High Priest of Aoicti, Pajmeaein.” * CMMtflil, Atieiti^ Huot<iU vf Hgitpt, Vsl. IV. p»r, 59 The Tomb of Tut'ankh'Amen A reign or two {uter we find Scti 1 nnd Ib^eses II being moved from tlib tomb and re-huried in the tomb of Queen Iniiapi ; and in the same mgn we get a reference to tlie tomb we linve been using as our laboratory'* this year : — “Day of bnnging King Men^pErhtn'Rr (Ramesesc I) ou| from tlw tomb of King Men^nm^Ito-Setj (U), in ontcr to bring him into the timib of Infiapi, which is In the Great Place, yvlioreUi K.iug Aincti'betep No fewer than thirteen of the mjral mtinunies found tlicir way at one time or another to the tomb of Amen-hetep H, and here they w'cre allowed to remain* The other kings were eventually collected from their various luding places, taken out of The Valley alto¬ gether, nud placed in a well-hidden tomb cut in the Deir cl Bohan cliff* This was the final move, for by some accident tfie exact locality of the tomb was lost, and tlie mummies remained in peace for nearly three thotisatid years. Throughout all Uiese troublous time® in Ihe Tweiitielh and Twenty-first Dynasties there is no mention of Tut -ankh- Amen and Ms tomb. Jle had not escapeil altogether — liis tomb, as wc liavi: already noted, having l>ecn entered within a very few years of his death — but he was lucky enough to escajie the ruthless plundering of the later period. For some reason his tomb liad been overlooked. It was situ-' ated in a very loM-lying part of The Vailiy, and a heavy rain storm might well have washed away nil trace of its entrance. Or again, it may owe its safety to the fact that a number of huts, for the use of workmen who were employed in excavating the tomb of a later king, were built tnimediatdy above it. 6o The Valley and the Tomb WitiJfce pn^ing of the muiumtos the history of Tlie vSlcy, m known to ns from ancient Egj'p- tian sources, conies to an entl. Five lumdred yeara had passed since Thothmes 1 had constructed his modest little tomh Uiere, and, surely in tlie whole world’s liistoty, there is no small plot of ground that had five hundred years of more romantic story to record. From now on we are to imagine a dcsertad valley, spirtt-haunted doubtless to the Egyptian, its cavernous galleries plundered and empty, fclie entrances of many of them open, to become tlie home of fox, desert owl, or colonies of l>ats. Yet, plimdered, deserted and desolate as were its tombs, tlie romance of it was not yet wholly gone. It still remained the .sacred Vall^ of the Kings, and crowds of Uic scntinicntal and the curious must stUl have gone to visit it. Some of its tombs, indeed, were actually re-used in the time of Qsorkon I {about 900 b,c»1 for the burial of priestesses. References to its rock-hcmi passages are numer¬ ous in classical authors, and that many of them were still Bccessiljlc lo visitors in tlieir day is e%'ident from the reprelicnsiblc irnmncr in wliicli, like John Smith, 1878, they canned their names npcm the walls. A certain Philetairos, sou of Ammonios, who inscribed his name hi several places on the walls of tiie tomb in wliicli we bad our lunch, intrigued me not a little during the winter, tliough perhaps it would have been better not to mention the fact, lest i seem lo countenance the beastly habits of the John Smitiis. One final picture, before tlie mist of the Middle Ages settles down upon The Valley, and hides It 64 The Tomb of Tut -ankh* Arnett from our view* l*herc is sometlilng aboitdjjbie aCmO' sphere of Egypt — most people cxjierieiice Tl I think —that attunes one^s mind to solitude, and that is probably one of the reasons why. after Uie con* version of tlie coiintr}' to Ciiristianity, so many of its inlmbitonts turned witli cnttiusiasm to the hennit's life. The country itself, witli its equable chmatc^ its narrow strip of cultivable land, and its desert hills on cither side, honeycombed witli natural imd 'artificial caverns, was well adapted to such a pur¬ pose. Siieitcr and seclusion were readily obtamablc, and that within easy readi of the outer world, and the ordinary means of subsistence. In the early centuries of the Christian era there must have been thou.HBnds who forsook tlie world and adopted tlie contemplative life, and in the roek-cut sepulchres upon the desert hills we find their traces every- wiverc. Such an ideal spot as Tlie Valley^of the Kings could hardly pass unnoticed, and in Ihe — rv centuries a.d. we find a colony of anchor¬ ites in full possession, the open tombs in use as cells, and one transformed into a church. tlien, b our linal ^impse of The Valley in ancient times, and a strange incongruous picture it presents. Magnificence and toyul pride have been replaced by humble poverty. The “ precious hnbita tion " of the king has narrowed to a hetmiVa cell. 6s r CHAPTER m Tile Vau-ey ik Modehs Tiites For our first real description of Tlie Valley tn modem times we must him to the pages of Ridinrd Pococke, an English traveller who in 1748 published A Description of tlie East in several volumes, liis account is extremely interest- ing, and, considering tlie hurried nature of liis extraordinarily accurate. Here is his dfflcHpUon. of the approach to The Valley ; — **Tlie Sheik furnished use witii horses, and we set out to go Ui RibanH’l'Meluke^ ond went about a mile to the nortli, in a sort of stKct, on each ride of which the roehy gtound aliout tea feet high has rooms cut ioto it, some of tJiejri being sopported witit pillars i and, as there ht not the least sign in the plain of private boildliigB, 1 thouglit tlmt these in the very earliest times might serve as houses, and be the first invention after tents, and eontrived oa better shelter from wind, and cold of the nights. It is a sort of gravelly stone, and the doors ore cut regularly to the street.' We then turned to the north w^, enter’d fn between the iiigh rocky hills, and went in a very narrow valley. We after turn’d towards Uic south, and then to the north west, going in all between the mountnlnit about a mile or a mile and a half. . ♦ , Wc come to a part that ts wider, being a round opening like on emphi* theatre biuI Bscended by a narrow step passage about ten feet high, which seems to liave been broken down thro* tire rock, * Ttiey nrtttLnly liave Uic 'ippumiiM 6t aetiMt, but lutainy Uic) are fsjlsUQ tnmlH ct ttu JlliliUe Kias^ore. 63 The Tomb of Tnt ankh-Amen the aiiticnt passage bring probnbly from the Mcmndtiium imcler the faills^ and it may be frutEi Uil grottus 1 enter’d on liic ctLber side. By this passage we eame to Bibnu-el- Meluke. or IIub-cl-Mduke, that is, tlie gate nr court of the Idngs, being the sepulchres of the Kings of Thebes/' i The tradition of a secret passage through the hills to the Deir cl Baltari side of the clLff is still to be found among the natives, and to the present day there are archaeologists who subscribe to it. Tliere is, liowever, little or no basis for the theory, and certainly not a vestige of proof. Pococke then goes on to an account of such of the tombs as were accessible at the time of his visit. He mentions fourteen in all, and most of them arc rccogiuKable from liis description. Of five of them, those of Hamescs IV. Hnincses VI, Ranieses XII, Seti II, and the tomb eotumenced by Ta*usert and finished by Set^ncklit, he gives the entire plnn. In the case of four — Mer'CU'Ptah, Ratneses ITT, Anicn-mcses and Rameses XI — he only planned the outer gnlicries and chambers, the inner eJiambers evidently being inaccessible ; and the remaining five lie speal^ of as “ stopped up.’* * It is evictent from Pocoeke's narrati\'e that he was not able to devote as much time to his visit as he wntild have liked. 'J’he Valley was not a safe spot to linger in, for the pious anchorite we left in possession had given place to a horde of lumdits, wIk> dweit among the Kuma hi Its, and terrorized the whole country-side. Tlie Sheik also wiis in liaste to go,” he remarks, ** lieing afraid, as i imagine, lest the people should t I'DNcIcc, A tHtfriptioa cf fjie iSatl, Vnl. L, p. 97. * From Uie (rwliniuc uf jftttjflu Uiu« tqme tumbi wr« diwin In ri-iwkil tlmw. I’hc Givtk Huihori re|«r bs Otem at mCmyn tmin Ibcif recO-Ilke frtnn. l*l*ATK V ENTRANCE TCi THE TOMR Of it AMESES VJ. The Valley in Modem Times have opportunity to gather together if we staid out long.” These Tl^luin bandits were notorious, and we find frequent mention of tlieni in the tales of eighteenth century traveller.?. Norden, who visited Tliebes in 1737, hut who never got nearer Tlie V' alley tlian the Ramasseiim — 'he seems to have thought himself lucky to have got so far-^escribes them thus ; ** These people occupy, at present, the grottos, which are seen id great numhew in the neight>ournig mountains. They obey no one ; they are lodged so high, that they discover at a distance if anyone comes to attack them. Then, if tliey think themselves strong enough, they descend into the plain, to dispute the ground ; if not, they keep tlicniselvcs under shelter in their grottos, or they rttiic deeper into the mountains, whither you would have no great desire to follow them.” ' Bruce, who visited Tlie Valley in 1700, also suffered at the banthi of these bandits, and puts on record a somevvliat drastic, but fruitless, attempt, made by one of tJie native governors, to curb tlicir activities i — ” \ number of robbers, who niitcli rcHcmbk* our gj'psies, live in the holes of the muuntnins above Tlicbes, They arc all outlaws, punished with death if elnewheri'' foimd. Osman Bey, an ancient governor of Ciige, unable to suffer any lunger the disorders committed by these people, ordered a quantity of drie<! faggots to Ijc brought together, and, witJi his suldieis, took possession of the face of tl>c mountain, where the greatest tiiimbcr of these wretches were j he tticn onlervd all their coves to Ijc filled witlj tills dry brushwood, lo which he set fire, so that most of « Kanlnt, TftmU in Esuptntid trvulAUd Ly Dr, Ptur Teint'le* Lwiilon, 17^7, t»5 The Tomb of Tut'ankh-Amen them were destroy ml ; hut tJivy huve since recruited thi‘i> numt>ers wiUiout changing their muoners/'^ In tile course of this visit Bruce made copies of the figures of harpers in the tomb of Ramcscs III^ a tomb which stiil goes by his name, but his labours were brought to an a Irrupt coneluston. Finding that it was liis intuition to spend the night in tlie tomb, and continue hts researches in the morning, his guides were seized with teiroir, With great clamour and marks of discontent, they daslieil Iheir torches against tlus largest harp, and made the best of their ivay oiit of the cave, leaving me ami fiiy people in the dark ; and all the way as Utey u^t, tJiey miide dreadful dentmeiations of tragical events that were immediately to follow', upon Iheir departure from the cave/* Tiiat tlidr terror was genuine and not iU'foundcd, Bruce was soon to discover, for as he rode down Tlie Vallcj' in the gatbcriiig darkness, he was attacked by a party of the bandits, w ho hiy in wait for him, and burled stones at him from the side of Uie cliff* With the aid of his gun and his servant's blunderbuss he managed to beat them off, but, on arrh'ing at his boat, lie tliought it prudent to cast oil at once, and made no attempt to TCficat his visit. Not did even the magic of Napoleon's name sufhee to curb the arrogance of these 'Theban bandits, for the members of his scientific eominissjon who visited Thcb^ in the last days of the ceiit.ury vrere moisted, and even fired upon* They succeeded, however, in making a complete survey of all the tombs llicii open, and also carried out a small amount of excwatioii* Let us pass on now to 1815, jmd make the ac- * &nie«, Trtm*lt to DUsmr $ht Sontte of tist WHu, VoJ, I, p, £6 The Valley in Modem Titnes quaintfln(r& of one oif ttie most fonuiTkable men In tlie whole history of Egyptology. In the early years of the centiiry, a young Italian giant, Beizoni hy name, was earning a precarious income in England by per¬ forming feats of strength at fairs and drcnscs. Born in Padua, of a respectable family of Homan extraction, he had lieen intended for the pricstliood, but a ro\Tng disposition, combined with the intei-nal troubles in Italy at that period, Iiad driven him to seek his fortune abroad. We happened recently upon h refer¬ ence to him in bis pre-Egyptian days, in one of “ Rainy Day ” Sniitii’s bool^ of reminiscences, where tiio author dcscriljcs how he was carried round the stage, with a group of other people, by the strong man*' Uelzoni. In tJie intervals of circus work Bel- jsoni seems to hav^e studied engineering, and in 1S15 he thought he saw a chance of making his fortune by introducing into Egypt a hydraulic wiicd, which would, he claimed, do four times the work of the ordinary native applmncc. With this in view, he made his way to EgjiJt, conlrivcd an introduction to Mohammed Ali the “ Bashnw,** and in the garden of the palace actually set up his wheel. Acconhng to Bdzoni it was a great succe:^ but the Egyptians refused to have anytlxing to do with it, and he found liimsdf stranded in Egypt. Then, tlirough the traveller Buichardt, he got an iiitnxluction to Salt, the Brldsti Consul-General in Egypt, and contracted with him to bring the ‘'colossal jMeimiton bust” (Rameses 11, now in liie British Museum) from Luxor to Alexandria. This was in 1815, and tlie next five years he spent in excavating and collecting antiquities, first for Salt, and afterwards on his own account, and quarrel- 67 The Tomb of Tut-ankk’Amen ling with rival excavators, notably Drovetti, who represented tlie Frcncli Consul, Those ^rere- the great days of excavating, AiJj^Jiing to whieh a fancy was taken, from a scarab to an obelisk, was ]mt appro- priatcd, and if lb ere was a difference of opinion witii a brother excavator one laid for him with a gun, Belroni’s account of his experiences in Eg>TJt, publkh^ in 1820, t$ one of Lhc most fasduaring books in the whole of Egyptian literature, and 1 should like to quote from it at length— how, for in¬ stance, he dropped an obelisk in the Nile and fished it out again, and the full story of liis various squabbles. We must confine ourselves, however, to his actual work in The Valley. Here he discovered and cleared a number of tombs, including those of Ay, Mentii- ber-khep«ih-ef, Eameses I, and Seti 1. In tlic last named he found the magnificent alabaster sarcopb- agns which is now in the Soane iluseiim in London, Tliis was the first occasion on which exeai ations 00 a large scale had ever been made in Tlie Valley, and we must give Ifchoni full credit for tiie manner in wldch they were carried out. There are episodes wdiicli give the modem ex^vator rather a shock, os, for c.xample, when he describes his inetliud of dealing ivitii sc4ilcd doorw’ays — by means of a battering rum — Imt on tiic whole the work was extraordinarily gwd. It is perhaps worlii recording the fact tliat Belaoni, like ev^ciyone else who has ever dug in The Valley, was of the opinion that he had absolutely exhausted its possibilities. *’ It is niy firm opinion,” be states, “ that in tlie Valley of Behan el Afalouk, there are no more (tombs) than are now known, in coTiscquenec of my late discoveries j for. previously to my quitting that place I exerted all my humble abilities in endeavouring to 6S I’HTE \‘I INTKHJIIR 111- TIIE fOMU OF RAMKSE? IX. The Valley in Modem Times find (mother tomb, but could not siicjceed ; and what is a still greater proof, iiiclepcjidcni of my ovni re* searctics, after I quitted the place, Mr. Salt, tlie British Consul, resided there Ibur mouths and laboured in like maimer in vain to tint! another.” Li 1820 Belsionj rctuim^ to England, and gave an exhibition of his treasures, including the alabaster sarcophagus ami a model of the tomb of Seii, in a building which had been erected in Kccadilly in 1812, a building wlneti numy of us can still remember — the Egyptian Ilall. He never returned to Egypt, but died a few years later on an expedition to Timbuctoo. For tw(iuty years after Hclzoni's day The Valley was well expioited, and published records come thick and fast. We slmll not have space here to do more than mention a few of tiie names — Salt, Champollion, Burton, Hay, Head, Rosellini, Wilkinson, who num- bered the tombs, Bawhnson, Rhitid. In 1844 the great German expedition under Lepsius made a complete survey of The \‘'3JIcy, and cleared the tomb of Itamescs 11, and part of the tomb of Mer'cn'Ptah. Hereafter comes a gup: the German expedition was supposed to have e^musted the possibilities, and uoilung mure of any consequence was done in Tiie Valley until the very end of the century. In this period, hou'cvcr, just outside The Valley, there occurred ime of the most important events in the whole of tlx history. In the fjreceding chap¬ ter we told how the various royal mumnues wttt collected from their hiding-places, and deposited all together in a rock cleft at Deir el Bahari, Tlicre for nearly three thousand years they liad rested, and there, in the summer of 1875, they were found by the members of a Kurna faniity, 69 The Tomb of Tut-ankk^Amcn the Abd-«I-Rasulfi, It was in the thirteenth cen¬ tury B.c, that the inlxabitonts of this village first adopted the trade of totnb-robhiiig, and it b a trade that they have aditered to steadfastly cA'cr since. Their activities are curbed at the present day, hut they still search on Hie sly tn out-oMhe- way corners, and occasionally make a rich strike* On this occasion the find was too big to handle. It was obviously impossible to clear the tomb of its contents, so tlie whole family w’ae sworn to secrecy, and its heads determined to leave the find where it was, and to draw on it from time to time as they needed money. Incredible as it may seem the secret was kept for six years, and the jEaniily, with a banking account of forty or more dead Pharaohs to draw upon, grew ricli. ft soon became manifest, from objects which came into the market, that there had been a rich find of royal material somewhere, but it whs not until 1881 that it was possible to trace the side of tlic objects to liie Abd-ri-Hasul family. Kven then it w'lis difficult to prove anything. Tlie head of the family ivas arrested and subjected by tlie Mudir of Keneh, the notorious Dooud Pasha, wiiose metliods of administering justice were unorthodox but effectual, to an examination. Naturally he denied tlie duirge, and equally naturally tJie village of Kurua rose as one man and protested t.liat in a strictly honest com¬ munity the Abd-el-Kasul family ivtre of all men the most honest. He was released provisionally for lack of crtdencc, but his interview with Daoud seems to have shaken him. Interviews with Daoud usually did have that effect. One of our older workmen told us once of an 70 The Valley in Modem Times experience of his in his youn^jer days. He had been by trade a thief, and in tho exercise of his calling bad been apprehended and brouglit before the ^[udir. It ivas a liot day, anil his ner^’es were shaken right at the start by finding the Aludir taking his case in a large eartlicnware jar of water. From this uncKvavcntionai scat of justice Daoud had looked at iiim — ^just looked at him — ** and as his eyes went through n>c I felt my bones turning to water within me. Then very quietly he said to me, ^ Tliis is the first tmie you have appeared before me. You arc dismissed, but — be very, very careful that you do not appear a second Hme,* and I was so terrillcd that 1 changed my trade and never did." Some effect of tills sort must have been produced oil tlie Abd'd'Rasul family, for a month later one of its members went to tiie Mudir and made full confession. News was telegraphed at oucc to Cairo, Emile Brugsch Bey of the Museum was sent up to investigate and take charge, and on the 5tlt of July, 1881, the long-kept secret was revealed to Tniri. It must liave been an amazing exjieriencc. There, huddled togetlier in a shallow, ill-cut grave, lay the most powerful mouarcJis of tlie ancient East, kings whose names were familiar to the whole world, but whom no one in their ivildest moments had ev'cr dreamt of seeing. There they hml remained, where the priests in secrecy had hurriedly brought them that dark night three thousand years ago i and on tiieir cofilns and mummies, neatly docketed, w‘ere the records of their Journey Ings from one liiding-phice to another. Some liad lieen re- wrapped, and two or tliroc iii-the course of their many wanderings had con¬ trived to* chanjnr their cofiins. In forty-eiglit hbuw 7* The Tomb of Tittajtkh Amm we don t do thxngs quite so hastily nowadavs^he omb was cleared ; the kings w-ere embarked upon Museum barge; and wiUun fifteen days of Bnigseh Beys arn^l in Luxor, they were landed in Cairo and were deposited in the Musettm. U is a familiar story, hut w^ortii repeating, tliat as the barge made its way down the river the men of tee nei^ibounng vdl^ fired guns as for a funeral, while the women followed along the bank, tearing tecir I^iair and uttering that shrill quavering erv of moummg for the dead, a eiy that has doubtless terete. To return to Tlie VaUey. In mm, aetim. on •formation supplied by local umeials, M. w. teen Director General of tlir Service of Antiquities. including those 3^15 last w'os a very important discovery. VVe have rfaW thut !» t|„ Two„ty7m iL^ly had found sanctuary in Ibia ^i^-het^ s tomb, and here m I8DS the thirteen were fo^ It was hut their mummies that remained on th^^’ in their power tlicy had lavt^lu.'d I«i_ ^ tl *'‘“*^*^ vanished, but at leas . they hud been spared the last indjguity. Tlie TObl^ imd the ^ealer jmrt of the funeral equip- rotTt destruction Oiat the other and tec inummica re- still lav with Amcn-hetep himself rested for more tf it )»ad rested for more than three thousand years. Very iNTtmjiiH m iin?: tumh ov jumusels jv. ?im^uiNr: the ^sakcophacus. PLJ^Tt \'ll The Valley in Modem Times lightly the Covemment, at the repTesentation of Sir William Garsttn, decided against Its removal. The tomb was barred and bolted, a guard vras placed upon it, and there the king was left in peace. Unfortunately there is a sequel to this story. Within A year or two of the discovery tlie tomb was bTOktm into by a party of modem tomb- robbers, doubtless with the connivance of the guard, and the mummy was removed from its sarcophagus and searched for treasure. The thieves were sub¬ sequently tracked down by the Cliief Inspector of Antiquities, and arrested, although he was uiiabie to secure their conviction at the hands of the Native Court. The whole proceedings, as set fortli in the olhcial report, remiad one very forcibly of the records of ancient tomb-robbery described in the preceding chapter, and we are forced to the con- ctusion that in mimy ways the E^ptinn. of the present day differs little his ancestor in the reign of Rameses IX. One moral we can draw from this episode, and we commend it to the critics who call us Vandals for taking objects from the tombs. By removing antiquities to museums we are realty assuring their safety : left tn sifu they would inevitably, sooner or later, become the prey of thieves, and that, for all practical purposes, would be the end of them. In 1902 permission to dig in The V^alley unde. Government supervision was granted to an Ameri¬ can, Atr. Theodore Davis, and he subsequently excavated there for twelve consecutive seasons. His principal finds are known to most of us. Tliey include the toiul^ of Tliothmes IV, Hat-shep<sGt, a 73 Tlte Tomb of Tut^ankhAmen Si'Ptali, Yua and Thua — ^grcat'gmndfathc^nd grand- moth cf these of Tut'anldt 'Amends queen — Horem'heb. and a %'ault, not a real tomb^ devisM for the transfer of the burial of Akh’en*Aten from its original tomb at Tell el AmaTua. Tlus cache comprised the mummy and coffin of the heretic king, a very small part of lus funerary equipment, and portions of the sepul¬ chral shrine of his mother Tyi. In 1914 Mr. Davis's concession reverted to us, and the story of the tomb of Tut*ankh*Amen really begins* 74 CHAPTER IV OtTR PREKATOEy WoaK AT TUESES VER since my first visit to Egypt in 1890 it had been my ambition to dig in The -■ — • Valley, and when, at the invitation of Sir William Gaistin and Sir Gaston Maspero, I began to excavate for Lord Carnarvon in 1907, it was our joint hope that eventually we might be able to get a concession there. 1 had, as a matter of fact, when Inspector of the Antiquities Department, found, and superintended the clearing of, two tombs in Tlic V’alley for Mr. Theodore Davis, and this had made me the more anxious to work there under a regular concession. For the moment it was impos* sible, and for seven years wc dug with var^ng for- tune in other parts of the Theban necropolis. The results of the first five of these vears have published in Five Years* Eixplorations at Thebes.” a joint volume brought out by Lord Car¬ narvon and mysdf in 1912. In 1914 our di&oovery of the tomb of Amen- betep 1, on the summit of the Drah abu’l Negga fooUiiUs, once more turned our attention Valley- wards, and we awaited our chance with some im¬ patience, Mr. Theodore Davis, who still held the concession, had already published the fact that he considered The Valley exhausted, and that there were no more tombs to be Found, a statement cor¬ roborated by the fact that in his last two seasons 75 The Tomb of TuPankh-Amen he did very little work in The Valley proper, but spent most of liLs tune excavating in tlic approach Uierebo, in the neighbouring north valley* where he hoped to find the tombs of tlie priest kings and of the Eighteenth Dynasty queens, and in tiie mounds surrounding the Temple of Medinet Habu. Never¬ theless he was loath to give up the site* and it was not until June, 1914, that wt actually received the long-coveted concession. Sir Gaston Maspero, Director of the Antiquities Dqiartment, who signed our con¬ cession, agreed with hlr. Davis that the site was exhausted, and told us frankly that be did not consider that it would repay fuitlier investigation. We remembered, however, that nearly a hundred years earlier Belzoni had made a similar claim, and refused to be convinced. We had made a thorough investigation of tlte site, and were quite sure that there were areas, covered by Uic dumps of pre¬ vious excavators, which had never been properly examined. Clearly enough we saw that very heavy work lay before us, and tiiat many thousands of tons of surface debris would have to be removed before we could hope to find anything! but there was always the chance that a tomb might reward us in the end, and, even if tliere was nothing else to go upon, it was a chance that we were quite willing to take. As a matter of fact we had something more, and, at the risk of being accused of port actum prescience, 1 will state that we had definite hopes of finding the tomb of one particular king, and tliat king Tut' ankh- Amen. To exphtin the reason.4 for this belief of ours we must turn to tlic published pages of Jir. Danis’s 76 Our Prefatory Work at Thebes excavations. Towards the end of bis work in The Valley he had found, hidden under a rock, a faience cup which ,l>ore tlie name of Tiit*anklv*Ameii. In the same re^on he came upon a smalt pit-tomb, in which were found an unnamed alabaster Gtatuette. possibly of Ay, and a broken wooden box. In which were fragments of gold foil, bearing the figures and names of Tut -ankh •Amen and his queen. On the basis of Uiese fragments of gold he claimed that he had actually found the burial place of Tut-ankh* Amen. Tlic theory was quite untenable, fur the pit- tomb in question was small and insignificant, of a type that might very well belong to a member of the royal household in the Ramesside period, but iudicFOusly inadequate for a king^s burial in the Eighteenth Dynasty, Obviously, the royal material found in it had been placed there at some later period, and had nothing to do with the tomb itself. Some little dutance eastward from this tomb, he had also found in one of his earlier years of work (1007-8), buried in an irregular hole eut in the side of the rock, a caelic of large pottery jaia, witli sealed mouths, and hieratic Inscriptions upon their shoulders, A cursory examination was made of their contents, and as these seemed to consist merely of broken pottery, bundles of linen, and oUier oddments, Mr. Davis refused to lie interested in f hem, and they wxre laid aside and stacked away in the store-room of his Valley house. There, some while afletwanls, Mr, Winlock noticed them, and immediately realiaed their importance. With Mr, Davis’s consent tlie entire collection of jars was pocked and sent to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, and there Mr. Murdock made a 77 The Tomb of TuPankh^Amen thorough examination of their contents. Extra¬ ordinarily mteresting they proved to be. Tliere were clay seals, some bearing the name of Tut’ atikh'Amen and others the impression of the royal necropolis seal, fragnicnta of magnificent painted potterj' vases, linen hcad'Shawls“Onc in¬ scribed with the latest known date of TiiL'ankh* Amen’s reign— *flocaI collars, of the kind repre¬ sented as worn by mourners in burial scenes, and a mass of other miscellaneous objects ; the whole representing, apparently, the material which had been used during the funeral ceremonies of Tut* ankli-Amcn, and afterwards gathered together and stacked away within the jars. We had thus three dlstinet pieces of evidence — the faience cup fuimd beneath Ute rock, the gold foil from the small pit-tomb, and tius important cadie of funeraiy material— which seemed definitely to connect Tut*ankh*Amen with this particular part of The Valley. To these must be added a fourtli. It was in Uic near viduEty of these other finds that Mr. Davis Itad discovered the famous AJdi*eii*Aten cache. This contained the funerary remains of heretic royalties, brought hurriedly from Tell el Amarna and liidden here for safety, and tliat it was Tut -anklr Amen himself who was responsible for their temoval and reburial we can be reasonably sure from the fiict that a number of his clay seals were found. With all this evidence before us we were thoroughly convinced in our own minds that the tomb of Tut- ankh-Amen was stiU to find, and that it ought to be sitviated not for from the centre of The Valley. In any case, whether we found Tut-ankli-Amen or not, we felt that a sj-stematic and exhaustive search of 78 Ottr Prefatory Work at Thebes the inner Talley presented reasonable cliances of suc¬ cess, and we were in the act of eompleting our plans for an elaborate campaign in the season of 1014—15 when war broke out, and for the time being ah our plans had to Ijc left in abeyance. War- work eiaimedmostof my time for the next few years, but there were occasional intervals in which I was able to carry out small pieces of excavation. In February, 1915, for example, I made a complete clearance of the interior of the tomb of Amcn*hetcp III, partially excavated in 1799 by M. Devilliers, one of the members of Napoleon’s “ Commission d'£gyptc,“ and re-excavated later by Mr, Theodore Davis. In the course of this work we made the interesting discovery, from the evidence of intact foundation-deposits outside tJie entrance, am! from other material found within the tomb, that it had been originally designed by Thothmes IV, and that Queen Tyi had actually been buried there. Tlie following year, wlnle on a short holiday at Luxor, 1 found mj’self involvnl quite unexpectedly in anoUier piece of work. The absence of officials owing to the war, to say nothing of the general demoralization caused by the war itself, had natur¬ ally created a great revival of acti'vity on the part of tlie local native tomb-rolibets, and prospecting parties were out in all directions. News came into the village one afternoon that a find had been made in a lonely and unfrequented region on the western side of the mountain above The Valley of the Kings, linmediately a rival party of diggers amuxl them- .selves and made their way to the spot, and in tlie lively engagement that ensued the original party were beaten and driven off, vowing vengeance. Tile Tomb of Tut^ankh-Amen To avert further trouble tlie notables of the village came to me and asked me to take action. It was already late in the afternoon^ so 1 hastily collected the few of my workmen who had escaped the Army labour Levies, and with the necessary materials set out for the scene of action, an ex¬ pedition involving a dimb of more than 1,800 feet over tile Kuma hills by moonlight. It was mid* night when we arrived on the scene, and the guide pointed out to me Uie end of a rope which dangled sheer down the face of a cliff. Listening, wc could hear tiie robbers actually at work, so I first severed their rope, thereby cutting off their means of t^ape, and then, making Eceure a good stout rope of my own, I lowered myself down the clilT, Shinning down a rope at midnight, into a nestful of industrious tomb-robbers, is a pastime which at least does nf4 lack excitement, Tlierc were eight at work, and when I reached the bottom there was an awkwawl moment or tivo, 1 gave tliern the ulteniative of clearing out by means of my rope, or else of stay¬ ing where tiiey were without a rope at alt, and eventually they saw reason and departed. The rest of the night I spent on the spot, and, as soon as it was light enougli, climbed down into the tomb again to make a thorough investigation. The tomb was in n most remarkable situation fPiate nil). Its entrance was contrived in the hottom of a natural water-worn cleft, 180 feel froni the top of the cliff, and 220 feet above the valley hed, and so cunningly concealed that neither from the top nor the bottom could the slightest trace of it be seen. From the entrance a lateral passage ran straight if»to the face of the cliff, a distance of some 53 feet, 8d viKw sjiowim; ptismuN oi n.vi cW'FT^imtt, (Sfe Our Prefatory Work at Thebes after wluch it tiu-ncd at right angles, and a short passage, cut on a sharp slope, led do^m into a chamber about 18 feet square. The whole place was full of rubbish from top to bottom, and through this rubbish the robbers had burrowed a tunnel over 90 feet long, just big enough for a man to crawl through. It was an interesting discoverj% and might turn out to be very important, so I determined to make a complete clearance. Twenty days it took, working night and day with relays of workmen, and an extra - ordmarily difficult job it proved. The method of gaining access to the tomb by means of a rope from the top was unsatisfactory, for it was not a very safe proceeding at best, and it necessitated, more¬ over, a stiff climb from the valley. Obviously means of access from tlie valley-bottom would be preferable, and this we contrived by erecting sheers at the entrance to the tomb, so that by a nmning tackle wc could pull ourselves up or let ourselves down. It was not a very comfortable operation even then, and I penfcnally always made the descent in a net. Excitement among the workmen ruled high as the work progressed, for surely a place so well con¬ cealed must contain a wonderful treasure, and great vfm their disappointnicnt when it proved tliat the tomb had neither been finished nor occupied. The only thing of value it contained was a large sarcophagus of crystalline sandstone, like the tomb, unfinished, with inscriptions which showed it to have been intended for Quern ilat shep'sfit. Pre¬ sumably this masterful lady had had the tomb constructed for herself as wife of King Thothmes II. Later, when she seisced the throne and ruled nctuallv The Totnb of Tut^ankh’Amen as a kmg, it was clearly necessaiy (vt her to liave her tomb in The Valley like all the other kings— iis a matter of fact I founii It there myself in 1003 — and the present tomb was abandoned. She would have been better advised to hold to her original plan. In this secret spot her mununy would have had a reasonable chance of avoiding disturbance : in The Valley it iiad none. A king she would be. and a king'^s fate she shared, In the autumn of 1917 our real campaign in Hxe Vidley opened. The dilliculty was to know where to begin, for mountains of rubbish tlirown out by previous excavators encumbered the ground In all Erections, and no sort of record had ever been kept as to which areas had been properly excav'atcd and which had not. Clearly the only satisfactory thing to do was to dig sysEematically right down to bed¬ rock, and I suggested to Lord Carnarvon that we take as a starting-point the triangle of ground defined by the tombs of Rameses II, Mer-eii'Ptah, and Bameses VI, the area in which w'^e hoped the tomb of Tut*ankh‘Amcn might be situated. It was rather a desperate undertaking, the site being piled high witli enormous heaps of throw'n- out Fubbisii, but 1 had reason to believe Uiat Uie ground beneath had never been touchert, and n strong conviction that we should find a tomb there* In the course of the season's work W'e cleared a Gon^ sidcrable part of the upper layers of tjiis area, ai»d advanced our excavations right up to the fimt of tlic tomb of Batnesca VI. Here wc came on a series of ivorkmen’s liuts (jfee Plate X), built over masses of Jlint boulders, the latter usually indicating in I'he Valley Lhc near proximity of a tomb. Our natural HKMOVJXa SUHFAt'K IlWtHLS IN SKAtlCU IHK WMH iH TUT- AMEN, Our Prefatory Work at Thebes impulse was to enlarge our clearing in this direction, but by doing this we should have cut off all access to the tomb of Rameses above, to visitors one of the most popular tombs in the whole Valley. We determined to avvait a more convenient opportunity. So far tlie only results from our work were some osfraca,* interesting but not exciting. We resumed our ivork in this region in the season of 1919-20. Our first need was to break &csh ground for a dump, and in the course of this preliminary work we lighted on some small deposits of Rameses IV, near the entrance to his tomb. The idea this year was to clear the whole of the remaining part of the triangle already mentioned, so we started m with a fairly large gang of workmen. By the time Lord and Lady Camar\’ou arrived in March the whole of the top debris bad been removed, and we were ready to clear down into what we believed to l)e virgin ground below. We soon had proof that we were right, for we presently came upon a small cache containing tiiirtcen alabaster jars, bearing the names of Rameses 11 and Mer'cn^Ptaii, probably from the tomb of the latter. As this was tJie nearest approach to a real find that we had yet made in The Valley, we Tvere naturally somewhat excited, and Lady Carnarvon, I rcnicmljer, insisted on digging out these jais — beautiful specimens they were — with her own Imnds. With tlic exception of the ground covered by the workmen huts, we had now exhausted the whole of our triangular area, and had found no tomb. 1 was still hopeful, but we decided to leave this par- ^ PDUtunlil and Zinkei^ of lltiirttanr^ uml tor And purpom, B3 The Tomb of Tut^ankh-Amen ticular section until, by making a A^ety early start in the autumn, «re could accomplisli it Avithout causing uicsonrenicnce to visitom. For our next attempt wc selected the small lateral valley in which the tomb of Thothmes lit was situated. This occupied us throughout U>e whole of the tAvo foilow'ing seasons, and, though nothing intrinsicaSty valuable ivas found, w-c discoA'ered an interesting archanilogicaJ fact. The actual tomb in which TlioUimcs III was buried had been found by Loret in 1898, hidden in a cleft in an inacc<^ible spot some way up the face of the cliff. Excavating in tlie valley below, w'e came upon the beginning of a tomb, by its foundBtion’deposits ori^nally intended for the same king. Presumably, while the work on this low-lcvel tomb was in progress, it occurred to Thotlimes or to hia architect that the deft in tJic rock above was a better site. It certainly presented better chances of concealment, if that were the reason for the change • though probably the more plausible explanatitm would be that one of tlie tor¬ rential doAvnpouis of rain whiclj A'isit Luxor occasion¬ ally may have flooded out tlie lower tomb, and suggested to ThotJimes that his mummy would have a more comtbrtable resting-place on a higher level. Near by, at tlie entrance to another abandoned tomb, we came upon foundation-deposits of his wife Meryt- Re-Hat 'shep sut, sister of Uie great queen of that name. Whether w'c arc to infer that she was buried there is a moot pointy for it would be contrary to all custom to find a queen in The VaUey, In any case the tomb was afterwards appropriated by the Ttioban ofTiciul, Sen-ntfer. \Vc had now dug in The Valley for seA'erol seasons at rx^imn.K up thu 's iiukmkn's urn's nrtiiNu abovk thk TfiMn. Ottr Prefatory Work at Thebes with cxtretiiely scanty resul^^^ and it became a mtick debated que^tioiu whi^ther we should continue the work, or try for a more profitable site elsewhere. After these barren years were we justified in going on with it T My own feeling was that so long as a single area of untouched ground remained the risk was wortl) taking. It is true that you may find less in more time In The Valley than in any other site in Efiypti on the oilier hand, if a lucky .strike be made, you will be repaid for years and years of dull and unprofitable work. Hierc was still, moreover, the combination of fiint boulders and workmen's huts at the foot of the tomb of Rameses VI to be investigated, aofl 1 bad always had a kind of superstitious feeling Uiat in that particular corner of The Valley one of the missing kings, possibly Tut -ankh* Amen, might be found. Certainly the stratification of the debris there should indicate a tomb. Eventually we decided to devote a final season to The Valley, and, by making an early start, to cut off access to the tomb of Ramoses VI, if that should prove necessary, ut a time when it would cause least inconvenience to visitors. That brings us to the present season and the results that arc known to eveiyone. CILVPTER V Tke Finding of xtoe Tomb HE history of The Valley, as I have endea¬ voured to show in former chapters, lias nev^er lacked the dramatic dement, and in this, the latest episode, it has held to its traditions. For consider the circumstances. This was to be our final season in The Valley. Six full seasons we had ex¬ cavated there, and season after season liad drawn a blank ; we had worked for months at a stretch and found nothing, and only an excavator knows how desperately depressing that can be ; we had almost niade up our minds that we were beaten, and were preparing to leave The Valley and try our luck clsew'hcre ; and then — hardly had we set hoe to ground in our last despairing effort tlian we made a dUcovery tliat far exceeded our wildest dreams. Surely, never before in the whole history of excava¬ tion has a full digging season been compressed witliio tile space of five days. Let me try and teJi the story of it all. It will not be easy, for Uie dramatic suddenness of the initial discovery left me in a dazed condition, and the montlis that have followed have been so crowded with incident that 1 have hardly ha<l time to think. Setting it down on paper will perhaps give me a chance to realize wliat has hapiiened and all tliat it means. I arrived in Luxor on October 28tii, and by 86 Platt, XI VJHW OF TlfK ttOY r\t, flKMKTKHY : 1 tit: HKL.\TrV>; J’OjimONS or ntK TllMItS OF TlT*A^Kti-\Mt:X (0 HAMUHKS Vl (■», mm The Finding of the Tomb November 1st I had carolled my workmen and was ready to begin. Our former excavations had stopped short at the north- east comer of Uve tomb of Hameses VI, and from this point I started trenching soutii- wards. It wiiJ be remembered that in this area there were a number of roughly constructed workmen's huts, used probably by the labourers in the tomb of Rameses. Tliesc huts, built about three feet above bed-rock, covered the whole area in. front of the Bamesside tomb, and contiaticd in a southerly direction to join up with a similar group of huts on the opposite side of The Volley, discovered by Davis in connexion with his w'ork on the Akh'en-Aten cache. By the evening of November fnd we hod laid bare a sufRcteiit number of these huts for experi¬ mental purposes, so, after we had planned and noted them, tlicy were removed, and w'e were ready to dear away tlie three feet of soil that lay beneath them. Hardly liad I arrived on the work next morning (November 4th} tlian the unusual silence, due to the stoppage of the >vork, made me realize that something out of the ordinary had happened, and I was greeted by tlie announcement tliat a step cut in the rock had been discovered underneath the very hrst hut to be attacked. This seemed too good to be true, but a short amount of extra clearing revealed the fact tliat w'e were actually in the entrance of a steep cut in tj)e rock, some thirteen feet below the entrance to the tomb of Bamescs VI, and a similar diptli from the present bed level of Tlie Valley (Plate XI). The manner of cutting was that of the sunken stairway entrance so coinmon in 'Hie V'iilley, and 1 almost dared to hope that we hail found our tomb at ast. The Tomb of Tut*ankh’A.men Work continued feverislily throughout the whole of that day and tJie morning of tlie next, but it was not tuitij the afternoon of November 5th that we suc¬ ceed^ in clearing away the masses of rubbish that er ay the cut, and were able to demarcate the upper of the stairway on all its four sides (Plate XII). It was clear by now beyond any question that we artualjy had before us the entrance to a tomb, of previous disappointnients, per- sjsted in creeping in. There was always the horrible possibihty, suggested by our experience in tlie Thothmes UI Valley, tliat the tomb was an tin- llmshed one, never completed and never used ■ if It been finished there was the depressing prob* ability that it had been completely plundered in ^cjent times. On the other hand, there was fust the clianee of an untouched or only partially plun¬ dered tomb, and it was with iU-suppressed excite¬ ment that I watched the descending step.s of the staircase, as one by one they came to light Tlie eutemg was excavated in the side of a small hillock, an^ as the work progressed, its western edge receded under the slope of the rock until it was/first partiaJlv, then completely, roofed In. and became a passage. 10 feet high by 6 feet wide. Work progressed t^rc rapidly now ; step succeeded step, and at the Iciel of the twelfth, towards arniset, there was disclosed the upp^ part of a doorway, blocked, plastered, and scaled* A sealed doorway — it was actually true, tJicn I Our years of patient labour were to be rifwarded mler all. and I think my first feeling was one of congralulaticm Uml my faiU, in The Valley had not betn unjustified. With excitement growing to fever 88 ri..\T* xii Hj TllE TOMB AS IlllST SEEN The Finding of the Tomb heat 1 searched the seat impress tons on the door for evidence of the identity of the owner, but could hnd no name : the only decipherable ones were tliose of the well-known royal necropolis scat, the jackal and nine captives. Two facts, however, were clear: first, the emplo3mient of this royal seal was certain evidence that the tomb Iiad been constructed for a person of very lugh standing ; and second, that tlie sealed door was entirely screened from above by workmen’s huts of Uie Twentieth Dynasty was sufRdently clear proof Uiat at least from that date it had never been entered. With that for the moment 1 had to be content. While examining the seals I noticed, at the top of Use doorway, where some of the plaster had fallen away, a heavy wooden lintel, tinder this, to assure myself of the method by whidi the doorway had been blocked, I made a small peephole, just large enough to insert an electric torch, and discovered that tiie passage beyond the door ivas HUcd completely from floor to ceiling with stones and rubble — additional proof this of tiie care with which the tomb had been protected. It w'as a tltrilling moment for an excavator. AJone^ save for my native workmen, 1 found myself, after years of eompamtivcly unproductive labour, on the thresliold of what might prove to be a magnificent discovery. Anything, literally anything, might lie beyond that passage, and it needed oil my self- control to keep from breaking down the doorway, and invesiigtiting then and there. One tlung puzzled me, and that was the smallness of the opening in comparison with the ordinary Valley tombs. The design was certainly of the X B9 The Tomb of TuPanklvAmen Eighteenth Djuasty. Could it be the tomb of a noble buried here by royal consent? Was it a royal cache, a hiding-place to whidi a mununy and its equipment had been removed for safety ? Or was it actually the tomb of tJie king for whom I had spent so many years in search t Once more I examined the seal impressions for a clue, but on tlie part of the door so far laid bare only those of the royal necropolis seal already mentioned were clear enough to read, llad I but knowm that a few inches lower down there was a perfecUy clear and distinct impression of the seal of Tut-ankh* Amen, the king I most desired to find, 1 would have cleared on, had a much better night’s rest in con* sequence, and saved inysdf nearly three weeks of uncertainty. It was late, however, and darkness was already upon us* ith some reluctance ^ I. re-closed the small hole tliat I had made, filled in our cEXcavatxon for prot«:tion during the night,, selected tlie most trustworthy of my workmen— themselves almost as excited a$ I was—4x) watcli all lught above the tomb, and so home by moonlight, riding down The Valley. NatuniUy my wish was to go straight ahead with our clearing to find out the full extent of the dis* coverj', but Lord Carnarvon was in England, and in fairness to liim I had to delay matters until he could come. .Accordingly, on the morning of Novem¬ ber (Jth I sent him the following cable : — At last liave made wonderful discovery in Valley ; a mag¬ nificent tomb with seals intact ; re-covered same for your arrival ; congcalulalitms." My next task was to secure the doonvay agaiieit interference until such tin»c as it could finally be 9® PlATF Xlll THK StVrKELN STEPS. Tfte Finding of the Tomb re-opened. This we did by fiUing our excavation up again to surface level, and roiling on top of it the large dijit boulders of ivliiclj the workmen's Jiuts had been composed. By the evening of the same day, exactly forty-eight hours after we had discovered the first step of the staircase, this was accomplished. The tomb had vanished. So far as Uie appearance of the ground was concerned there never had been any tomb, and I found it hard to persuade myscJf at times that the whole episode had not been a dream. I wa.s soon to be reassured on this point. News tmvels fast in Egypt, and within two days of the discovery congratulations, inquiries, and offers of help descended upon me in a steady stream from all directions. It became dear, cvcn’at Uris early stage, that I was in for a job that could not be tackled single-handed, so 1 wired to Callender, who had hdped me on various previous occasions, asking him if possible to join me without delay, and to my relief he arrived on the very next da)\ On the 8th I had received two messages from I^rd Carnarvon m answer to my cable, the first of which read, “ Pos¬ sibly come soon,” and the second, received a little later. ” Propose arrive .Ilexandria 20Ul" We had thus nearly a fortnight’s grace, and we devoted it to making preparations of various kinds M that when the time of re-opening came, we should be able, ivilli the least possible delay, to handle any situation that might arise. On the night of Ute ISth 1 went to Cairo for tliree days, to meet Lord Carnarvon and make a number of necessary purchases, returning to Luxor on the ‘>lst. On the 28rd Lord Carnarvon arrived in Luxor with his The Tomb of Tutankh-Amen daughter. Udv Evelj-n Herbert, his de^■oted com- panion in all his Egyptian work, and everything was in hand for the beginning of the second chapter of t]ie discover!' of the tomb- Callender had been busy al! day clearing away the upper layer of rubbish, so that by morning we should be able to get into the staircase without any delay. By the afternoon of the 24th the whole staircase was clear, sixteen steps in aU (Plate XITI ), and we w ere able to make a proper examination of the sealed doorway. On tlie lower part the seal impressions were much clearer, and we were able without any difficulty to make out on several of them ttie name of Tut*ankh'Amen (riate XIV). This added enomiously to the interest of the discovery. If we had found, as seemed almost certain, the tomb of tb^t shadowy mon* arch, whose tenure of tlie throne coincided witJi one of the most interesting periods in tlic whole of Egyp^an history, we should indeed have reason to congratulate ourselves, . With heightened interest, if that were posable, we renew-ed our investigation of the doorway. Here for the first time a disquieting element made its appearance. Now that tlie whole door was exposed to light it w'as possiblB to discem a fact that had hitherto escaped notice— tliat Uierc had been two successive openings and re-closings of a part of its surface; furthermore, tliat tlie sealing originally discovered, the jackal and nine captives, had been applied to tlie re-closed portions, whereas the sealings of Tut-ankh-Amen covered the untouched part of the doonvay^ and therefore those with which the tomb had been origiiially secured. The toi^ then was not absolutely intact, as we had hoped. The Findmg of the Tomh Plundcfcfs Iiad entered it, and entered it more than once — from the evidence of the huts above, plunderers of a date not later than the reign of Rameses VI— but that they had not rifled it completely was evident from the fact tliat it had been re’scalcd.^ Then came another puzzle. In the lower strata of rubbish that lUled the staircase we found masses of broken potsherds and boxes, the latter bearing the names of Akh-en-Aten, Smenkh'ka'Re and Tut'Jinkh* Amen, and, what was much more upsetting, a scarab of Thothmes III and a fragment with the name of Amen hetep Ell. IVhy this mixture of names ? Tlie balance of evidence so far would seem to indicate a cache ratlier than a tomb, and at tliis stage in the proceedings w’e inclined more and more to the opimon that we were about to And a miscellaneous collection of objects of the Eighteenth Dynasty kings, brought from Tell cl .■Unama by Tut ankh*Amen and deposited here for safety. So matters stood on tlie evening of the 24th. On the following day the sealed doorway was to be removed, so Calteiider set carpenters to work making a heav'y wooden grille to be set up in its place. Mr. Engebach, Chief Inspector of the An* tiquities Department, paid us a vLsit during the aftern^ion, and witnessed part of the final clearing of rubbish from the doorway. On tire morning of the 25th the seal impres* sions on the doorway were carefully noted and photo* graphed, and then we removed the actual blocking of the door, consisting of rough stones carel'ully built I Fmiai 1«icr ertblsno* we fetind Uwt tlt!« wallnji could not tuive tJkeu place Inter Ui«a tb« rtl^ of Uorem licb, Le. Initn ten lu Jitleen ‘ Venn oUEr the buriol. 93 The Tomb of Tut-ankh*Amm from floor to lintel. And lienvily {ilastered on tlicir outer faces to take the seal impressions. This disclosed the beginning of a descending passage (not a staircase), the same width ns the entrance staii^vay, and nearly seven feet high* As I had already discovered from my hole in the door¬ way, it tvas fiUed completely with stone and rubble, probably the chip from its oiMi excavation. This dlling, like the doorway, sitowed distinct signs of more than one opening and re-dosing of the tomb, the untouched part consisting of clean white chip, mingled witli dust, whereas the disturbed part was composed mainly of dark dint. It was dear that an irregular tunnel liad been cut tlirougli the original filling at the upper comer on the left side, a iunnd corresponding in position with that of the hole In the doorwA}', As we cleared the passage we found, mixed ivith the nibble of the lower levels, broken potsherds, jar sealings, alabaster jars, whole and broken, vases of painted pottery, numerous fragments of smaller articles, and water skins, llifsc last having obviously been used to bring up the water needed for tlie plastering of the doorways. These were dear evi- denee of phindering, and we eyed them askance. By night we had cleared a considerable distance down the passage, but as yet saw no sign of second doorway or of chamber. Tlie day following (November *Ctli) was the day of days, the most wonderful that I fiave ever lived tlirough, and certainly one whose like I can never hope to sec o^in. Throiigliout the morning the work of clearing continued, slowly perforce, on account of Uic delicate objects that were mixed wltli the filling. I mid Tui‘4mkli'Aiii»'fl'A <^tL The Finding, of the Tomb Tlien, in the middle of the afternoon, thirty feet down from the miter door, we came upon a second sealed doorway, almost an exact replica of the first. The seal impressions in this ease were less distinct, but still recognizable as tliose of Tvit-ankh*Amen and of the royal necropolis. Here again the signs of opening and re-closing were clearly markcfl upon the plaster. We were firml3’ convinced by this time that it was a cache that we were alxjut to open, and not a tomb. The arrangement of stairway, entrance passage and doors reminded us very forcibly of the cache of ^Vkh-cn-Aten and Tyt material found in the very near vicinity of tlie present excavation by Davis, and the fact that Tut^ankh- Amends scats occurred there likewise seemed almost certain proof that we were right in our conjecture. We were soon to know. There lay the sealed doorway, and bdiind it was the answer to the question. Sloivly, desperately slowly it seemed to us as we watched, tiie remains of passage debris that encum¬ bered the lower part of the doorway were removed, until at last we had the whole door clear before ns. The decisive moment had arrived. Witli trembling Itands I made a tiny breach in the upper left hand corner. Darkness and blank space, as far as an iron testing-rwl eould reach, showed that whatever lay bcyfmd w'os empty, and not filled like iite passage we hud just cleared. Candle tests were applied as a precaution against possible foul gases, and then, vridening the hole a little, 1 inserted the candle and peered in. Lord Carnarvon, Lady Evelyn and Callen¬ der standing anxiously beside me to hear the verdict. At first I coitld see nothing, the hot air escaping from the chamber causing the t^andle flame to flicker, but 95 The Tomb of Tut-ankk^Ameti prescntSyt as my eyes grew accustomed to the light, details of the room wlthm emerged slowly from tlie mist, strange animals, statues, and gold — everywhere tiie glint of gold. For the moment— an eternity it must have seemed to the others standing by — I was struck dumb witli amazement, and when Lord Carnarvon, unable to stand the suspense any longer, inquired anxiously, “ Can you see anything ? ” it was all I could do to get out Uic words, " Tes, won¬ derful things." Then widening the hole a little further, so that we faotl) could see, we inserted an electric torch. QO l'« .^TK XV \'IKH' t>i' THE A:j SEKN t'KnM THE 1‘ASSAtifi ‘niROUnU THK STCTX CHILLH CILtPTER VI A Prellminary Investigation 1 SUPPOSE most excavators would confess to a feeling of awe — embarrassment almost — when they break into a chamber closed and sealed by pious hands so many centuries ago. For the moment, time as a factor in human life has lost its meaning. Tliree tliousand, four thousand years may¬ be, have passed and gone since human feet last trod tlie floor on wdiich you stand, and yet, ns you note the signs of recent life around you — tlie half- filled bowl of mortar for the door, the blackened lamp, the finger-mark upon Uie freshly painted surface, tlie farewell garland dropped upon the threshold — you feel it might have been but yesterday. The very air you breatlie, unclianged throughout Uie centuries, you share with those who laid tlic mummy to its rest. Time is anniliilated by little intimate details such as tiiese, and you feel an intruder. That 16 perhaps the first and dominant sensation, but others follow thick and fast — ^the exhilaration of discovery, tlie fever of suspense, the almost over¬ mastering impulse, bom of curiosity, to break down seals and lift the lids of boxes, the thought — pure joy to the investigator — tlmt you are about to add a page to history, or solve sonic problem of research, the strained expectancy — why not confess it t — ^f the treasure-seeker. Did Uiese thoughts actually pass througli our minds at the time, or liave I imagined 97 The Tomb of Tut’ankh^Amm them sinee ? I cunnot tell. It was the tliscovery that my memory was blank, an<l not tl»c mere desire for dramatic chapter-ending, that occasioned this digression. Surely never before in tltc whole history of exca¬ vation had such an amazing sight been seen as the light of our tore] I revealed to us. The reader can get some idea of it by referenee to tJie pliot()graphs on Plates XVI -XX, but these were taken afterwards when tiie tomb had been opened and electric light installed. Let him imagine how Uicy appeared to us as we looker! down upon tliem from our spy-hole in the blocked doorway, casting the beam of light from our torch — the first light iJiat had pierced tlie darkness of the chamber for three timusand years — ^from one group of objects to another, in a vain attempt to interpret the treasure that Lay before us. The effect was bewildering, overwhelming. I suppose ivc had never formulated (^cactly in our minds just what we had expected or hoped to see, but certainly wc hud never dreamed of anything like this, a roomful — a whole museumfuL it seemed — of objects, some familiar, but some the like of which iiVc liad ncv'cr seen, piled one upon another in seemingly endless profusion. Gradually the scene grew clearer, and we could pick out iiulividual objects. First, right opposite to us — we had been conscious of them ail the while, but refused to l>elieve in them — w'crc tiirce great gilt couches, Uieir sides ean'cd in the form of mon- stit)U5 animals, curiously attenuated in body, as Uiey had to be to serve their purpiise, but witli heads of startling realism , Uncanny beasts enough to look upon at any lime : seen os we saw them, 98 INTKKIiill 01 ANCKCIUMIIKK? \imTMKK\ KMJ. A Preliminary Investigation their brilliant ^Idcd surfaces picked out of the dark¬ ness by our electric torch, as though by Jimdight, their heads throwing gn>tesquc distorted shadows on the wall behind them, they were almost terrifying. Next, on the right, two statues caught and held our attention ; two life-sized hgures of a king in blaekt facing each other like sentinels, gold kilted, gold sandalled, armed ivith mace and staff, the protective sacred cobra upon tlieir foreh^ds. Tliese were the dominant objects that caught the eye at hrst. Between them, around them, piled on top of them, there were countless others — exquisitely painted and inlaid caskets ; alabaster vases, some beautifully car\’ed in openwork designs ; strange black shrines, from the open door of one a great gilt snake peeping out * bouquets of flou'crs or leaves ; beds ; chairs 1>eautifuliy carved ; a golden inlaid throne ; a heap of curious white oviform boxes ; staves of all shapes and designs ; beneath our eyes, on. the very threshold of the chamber, a beautiful lotiform cup of tramlucent alabaster ; on the left a confused pile of overturned chariots, glistening with gold and inlay ; and peeping from behind them another portrait of a king. Such were some of the objects tliat lay before us. Whether w^c noted them all at the time I cannot say for certain, as our minds were in much too excited and confused a state to register accurately. Presently it da>s'ned ii|x>n our bewildered brains tjiat in all tEiis metlley of objects before us there was no conin or trace of mummy, and the nuieh-debatcd (|uestton of tomb or cache began to intrigue tis alVeah. With this question in view we re-examined tlie scene before us, and noticed for the first time that betw'een The Tomb of Tut-ankk-Amen tlte two black sentmet statues on tbe right there M*as another sealed doorway. The eiqplaoation gra- dually dawned upon us. We were but on the thres- liold of our discovery. What we saw was merely an antechamber, Beliind the guarded door there were to he other chambers, possibly a succession of them, and in one of them, beyond any shadow of doubt, in all his magnificent panopiy of death, we should find the Pharaoh lying. had seen enough, and our brains began to reel at the thought of the task in front of us, W'e re-closed the hole, locked the wooden grille that liad been placed upon the first doorway, left our native staff on guard, moimtcd our donkeys and rode home down The Valley, strangely silent and subdued. It was curious, as we talked things over in the evening, to find how conflicting our Ideas were as to what we had seen,. Bach of us had noted something tlmt the others had not, and it amoved us next day to discover how many and how obvious were Uie tilings that we had missed. Naturally, it was the sealed door between the statues that intrigued us most, and we debated far into Uie night the possi¬ bilities of what might lie behind it, A single chamber witli the king’s sarcophagus ? That was the least we might expect. But w-Jiy one chamber only ? Why not a succession of passages and elianibers, Ica<Iing, in true Valley style, to an innermost slmne of all, the burial chamber ? It miglit be so, and yet in plan tiic tomb was quite unlike the others. Visions of chamber after dtamber, each crowdeti with objects like the one wc had seen, passed tli rough our minds and left us gasping for breatli. Then came the thought of the plunderers again. JLid they sue- lOO A Preliminary Investigation ceeded m pcnetmting thb tlurd doorway — seen from a distance it looked absolutely untouched — and, if so, what were our chances of finding tlie king’s mummy intact ? I think we slept but little, all of us, that night. Next morning (November 2Ttli) we were early on the field, for there was mucti to be done. It was essentia), before proceeding further with our exam¬ ination, that we should have some more adequate means of illumination, so Callender begtm lay ing wires to connect us up with the main lightii^ system of The Valley- Uliile this was in prqiaration we made careful notes of the seal -impressions upon the inner doorway and then removed its entire blocking. By noon everything was ready and Lord Carnarvon, Lady Evelyn, Callender and 1 entered the tomb and made a careful inspection of the first chamber (afterwards called the iVutechamber). The evening before 1 had written to Mr, Engeibach, tlie Chief Inspector of the Antiquities Department, advising him of the progress of clearing, and asking him to come over and make an official inspection. Un¬ fortunately lie was at the moment in Kena on official business, so the local Antiquities Inspector, Ibraham Effendi, came in his stead. By the aid of our powerful electric lamps many things that had been obscure to us on the previous day became clear, and we were able to make a more accurate estimate of the extent of our discovery. Our first objective was naturally the sealed door between the statues, and here a disappointment awaited us. Seen from a distance it presented all the appearance of an absolutely intact blocking, but close examination re^’calcd tlie fact that a sinall lOl The Tomb of Tut-ankh*Amen breach had been made near tlie bottom, just wide enough to admit a boy or a slightly built man, and that tile hole made iiad subsequently been lUJed up and rc-scalcd. We were not then to be the first. Here, too, the thieves had forestalled us, and it only remained to be seen how nuieh damage they iiad bad the opportiuiity or the time to effect. Our natural impulse was to break down the door, and get to tlie bottom of the matter at once, but to do so would have entailed serious risk of damage to many of the objects in tlie Antecliamher, a risk which we were by no means prepared to face. Nor could we move the objects in question out of the way, for it ^vas imperative that a plan and complete photographic record should be made before anything w'as touched, and this ivaa a task involving a eon- siderahle amount of time, even if %vc had had suffi¬ cient plant available — which we had not — to carry it tlirough immediately. Reluctantly we decided to abandon the opening of this inner sealed door until we had cleared tlie Antechamber of all its contents. By doing this we should not onl}*^ ensure the complete scientific record of the outer chumber which it was our duty to make, liut should have a clear field for the removal of the door-blocking, a ticklish operation at best. Having satisned to some extent our curiosity about the sealed doorway, we could now turn our attention to the rest of tlie cliamber, and make u more detailed examination of the objects which it contained. It was certainly an astounding experi¬ ence. Here, packed tightly together in this little chamber, were scores of objects, any one of winch would have filled us with excitement under ordinary lOZ A Preliminary Invesfigation circunistnaccs. And been considered ample repayment; for A full work. Some were of tj-pes well enough kno^n to us ; others were new and strange, and in some cases these were complete and perfect examples of objects whose appearance we liad here¬ tofore but guessed at from the evidence of tiny broken fragments found in other royal tombs. Nor was it merely from a point of view of quajitity that the find w^as so amazing. The period to wiiich the* tomb belongs is in many respects tbe most interesting in the whole history of Egj'ptian art, and ivc were prepared for beautiful tilings. What we were not preparetl for was tlie astoitkhing vitality and animation which characterized certain of the objects. It was a revelation to us of unsuspe^ed possibilities in Egyptian art, and we realized, even in this hasty preliminary sun^'ey, that a study of tlie inatcrial would involve a modiheatiun, if not a complete revoluttr>i4 of all our old ideas. That, however, is a matter for the future. We sliall get a clearer estimate of exact artistic values when we have cleared tlic whole tomb and ha%'e the complete contents before us. One of tlie first tilings uc noted in our surv^ey was that all of the larger objects, and most of the smaller ones, were inscribed wdtii the name of Tut- ankluAmen, His, too, were the seals upon the inner' most door, and therefore liis, beyond any shadow of doubt, tlie mummy that ought to lie behind it. Next, while we were still excitedly calling each other from one object to another, came a new disco^’crv'. Peering beneatli the soutliemnirwt of the three great couches, we noticed a small irregular hole in the wall. Here was yet another sealed doorway, and ‘03 The Tomb of Tut^ankh-Amen a plunderei^’ liole, whicli, unlike the others, had never been rcpairecl. Cautiously m'O crept under the couch, inserted our portable light, and there before us lay another chamber, ratlier smaller than the first, but even more crowded with objects* The state of this inner room (aftcnvards called the Annexe) simply defies description. In the jVnte- ch amber there had been some sort of an attempt to tidy up after the plunderers’ visit, but here everything was in confusion, just as they liad left it. Nor did it take much imagination to picture them at tlieir work. One — there would probably not have been room for more than one — liad crept into the chamber, and had then hastily but systematically ransacked its entire contents, emptying boxes, tlirowing things aside, piling them one upon another, and occasionally passing objects through the hole to Ids eompantons for closer examination in tlte outer chamber. He had done hb work just about ns tliomughly os an earthquake. Not a single ineli of floor space remains vacant, and it wdl be a matter of considerable difft- culty, when the time for clearing ctmics, to know how* to begin. So far we liave not made any attempt to enter tlie chamber, but have contented ourselves with taking stock from outside, Beautiful things it contains, too, smaller tlian those in the Antechamber for the most part, but many of them of exquisite workmanship. Several tilings remain in my mind particularly — a painted box, apparently quite as lovely as the one in the Antccliamticr i a wonderful chair of ivoiy-, gold, wood, and leather-work ; ala¬ baster and faience vases of bcciutiful fonu ; und a gaming board, in carved and coloured ivory. 1 think the discovety of this i^ccond chamber, 104 JMl-lltlllll or \.N'm;lI,VMJJKK: 'HIK llVUIOff A Preliminary Investigation with its cTow'ded contents, had a somewhat sobering effect upon us. Excitement J^ad gripped us hitherto, and given us no pause for thought, but now for the first time we began to realize what a prodigious task we bad in front of us, and what a responsibility it entailed. This ivas no ordinary find, to be disposed of in a normal seasfjn’s work ; nor was there any precedent to show us how to handle it. Tlic tiling was outside all experience, bewildering, and for the moment it seemed as thougfi there w’ere more to be done than any human agency could accomplish. Moreover, the extent of our discovery liad taken us by surprise, and we were wholly unprepared to deal with the multitude of objects that lay before us, many in a perishable condition, and needing careful preservative treatment before they could lie toudied. Tlicre were numberless things to be done before we could even begin the work of clearing. Vast stores of prcseiwatives and packing material must be laid in ; expert advice must be taken as to the best mctliod of dealing adth certain objects ; provision must be made for a laboratory, some safe and sheltered spot in w^hieh the objects could lie treated, catalogued and packed; a careful plan to scale must be made, and a complete photographic record token, wdiile everything was still in position ; a dark-room must be contrived. These were but a few of the problems tliat con- frontcfl us. Clearly, tlie first tiling to be done was to render the tomb safe against robbery ; we could then with easy minds work out our plans— plans wliich we realized by this time would involve, not one season only, but certainly two, and possibly tliree or four. We had our wooden grille at tlie Tite Tomb of Tut'ankivAmen entrance to the passage^ but that was not enough, and I measured up tlie iuner dooraav for a gate of thick steel bars. Until we could get this made for us — and for this and for other reasons it was im¬ perative for me to ^^sit Cairo— we must go to the labour of filling in the tomb onoe more. Slcanwhile tlie news of the discovery had spread like wildfire, and all sorts of extraordinary and fanciful reports were going abroad concerning it; one story, that fotind considerable credence among the natives, being to the efiect that three aeroplanes had landed in Tlie Valley, and gone off to some destination unkuon-n with loads of treasure. To overtake these rumours as far as possible, u'c decided on tilings— first, to in'idte Lord Allcnby and the various heads of the departments concerned to come and pay a visit to tlie tomb, and secondly, to send an authoritative account of the tliscoveiy to Tfie Tmies. On the 2Ptlj, accordingly, we had an official opening of tlie tomb, at which were present Lady Allcnby — ^Lord Ailenby was unfortunately un¬ able to leave Cairo — ^Abd el Aziz Bey Yehia, the Governor of the Province, Mohamed Bey Falimy, 3Iamotir of the District, and a numlier of other Egyptian notables and officials ; and on the 3(Hh Mr. Tottenham, Adviser to the Ministry of Public Works, and 31. Pterre Lacau, Director-General of the Service of Antiquities, who had been unable to be present on the previous day, made tlieir ofllctal inspection. Mr, 31erton, The Times correspondent, was also present at the officfal opening, and sent the dispatch which created so much excitement at home. On December 3rd, after closing up the entrance doorway with heavy timber, tlie tomb was filled to JM'KJUult <JI A-N'i Kf;jJ \MUICJl! SOiirJlKIlN tvNO. SlfiiVUM: IIIL J lHUU^ill^i COUcJI AM) LiiAltlOT^ A Preliminary Investigation surface level* Lord Camarvon and I^ady Evelyn left on the 4tli, on their way to England, to conclude various arrangements there, preparatory to return¬ ing later in the season ; and on the 6th, leaving Callender to watcii over* tlie tomb in my absence, I followed tliem to Cairo to make ray purchases. My first care was the steel gate, and I ordered it the morning I arrived, under promise that it should be delivered within six days. The other purchases I took more leisurely, and a miseellaneous collection they were, including photographic material, chemi' cals, a motor-car, packing-boxes of every kind, with thirty- two bales of calico, more tlian a mile of wad¬ ding, and as mudi again of surgical bandages. Of these last two important items 1 was determined not to run short. While in Cairo I had time to take stock of the position, and it became more and more clear to me that assistance — and that on a big scale — ^was neces¬ sary if the work in the tomb was to be carried out in a satisfactory manner. The Question was, where to turn for this assistance. The first and pressing need was in photography, for nothing could be touched until a complete photograpliic record had been made, a task involving teclmicat skill of tlie higliest order. A day or two after 1 arrived in Cairo I received a cable of congratulation from Mr. Lytligoe, Curator of the Eg\*ptian Depaxtnicnt of tlie Metropolitan Museum of Art New York, whose concession at Thebes ran in close proximity to our own, being only divided by tire natural mountain wall, and in my reply I somewhat diffidently in- qniicd whether it would be possible— for the imme¬ diate emergency, at any rate — to secure the assist- The Tofnh of TuPankh^Amen ance of llr. Harry BurtoUt their pliotograpliic expert. He promptly ca^ed back, and his cable ougiit to go OQ record as an example of disinterested scientific co-operation: "Only too delighted to assist in any possible way. Please call on Burton and any other members of our staff.” Til is offer was subsequently most generously con* firmed by tiie Trustees and tlie Director of the Metropolitan 3Iuseuni, and on my return to Luxor Z arranged wi1 h my fi'icjid Mr. Winlock, tlie director of the New York excavations on that concession, and who was to be tiie actual sufferer under the arrangement, not only that Mr, Burton sluiuld be transferred, but tJiat Mr. Hall and Mr. Hauser, draughtsmen to the expedition, should devote such of tlieir time as might be necessary to make a large- scale drawing of the Antechamber and its contents. Another member of the New York staff, Mr. Mace, director of their excavations on the pyramid field at Lisht, was also av^ailahle, and at Mr. Lythgoe’s suggestion cabled offering help. Thus no fewer tiian four members of the New York staff were for whole or part time associated in the ivork of tiie season. Without this generous help it would have been impossible to tackle the enormous amount of work in front of us. Another piece of luck befell me in Cairo, .Mr. Lucas, Director of the Chemical Department of the Egjqitian Government, was taking three iiiontlui* leave prior to retiring from the Government- on com¬ pletion of service, and for this three montlis he generously offered to place his chemical knowledge at our disposal, an offer which, needless to say, I hastened to accept. Tliat completed our regular I’tATl; \\ IMKKIfm i>\- \vm THE LM'nwa! wnn riTTIKt, CATE. A Preliminary Investigation working staff. In addition. Dr. Alan Gardiner kindly undertook- to deal with any inscriptional niatcilfd that might be foimth and Professor Breasted, in a couple of visits, gave iis much assistance in the difficult task of deciphering the historical significance of the seal impressions from the doors. By December 13th the steel gate was finished and 1 iiad completed my purchases. I returned to Luxor^ and on tlie 15tli cverytliing arrived safely in The Valley, delivery of the packages having been greatly expedited by the courtesy of the Egyptian State Ra'd- way officials, svho permitted tiiem to travel by express Instead of on tlie slow freight train. On the 16th we opened up the tomb once more, and on the ITtti the steel gate ivas set up in the door of the chamber and we "were ready to begin work. On the 18th W'ork was actually begun. Burton making liis first cxperitneuts in the Antechamber, and Hall and Hauser making a start on their plan, Tivo days later Lucas arrived, and at once began experimenting on prescr\'ativ’es for the various classes of objects. On tlie 22iid, as the result of a good deal of clamour, permission to see the tomb was given to tlie Press, both European and native, and the oppor¬ tunity was also afforded to a certain number of tlic native notables of Luxor, who had been disappointed at not receiving an in^dtation to the official open¬ ing. It had only been possible on that occasion to invite a very limited number, owing to a difficulty of ensuring tlie safety of the objects in Uie very narrow space tliat was available. On tlie 25th Mace arrived, ami two days later, photographs and plans being sufficiently adv'anctd, the first object was remo\'ed from the tomb. 109 CHAPTER YU A SUHATTT OF mE AkTECHAMSEIB "TN thig clmpter vrc propose to make a detailed surv’ey I of tlie^^objects in tfie Antedianibcr, and it wiU give the reader a better idea of things if live make it systematically, and do not range baekivards and for¬ wards from one end of it to the other, as in the first excitement of discovery we naturally did. It was blit a small room, some 20 feet by 12 feet, and we bad to tread warily, for, though the officials had cleared for u$ a small aficy-way in tlic centre, a single false step or hasty movement would have in¬ flicted irreparable damage on one of the delicate objects with w'hich we were surrounded. Id front of us, in the doorway — we had to step over it to get into the ciiamber — ^lay tlie beautiful wishing-cup shoivn on Plate XEVl. It was of pure semi-translucent alabaster, with lot us -flower handles on either side, supporting the kneeling figures which syniboliae Eternity. Turning right as we entered, we noticed, first, a large cylindrical jar of alabaster ; next, two funerary bouquets of leaves, one leaning against the ivall, the other fallen ; and lii front of tliem, standing out into the chamber, a painted wooden casket {see Plate XXI). This lost will probably rank as one of the greatest artistic treasures of the tomb, and on our first ^dsit we found it hard to tear ourselves away from it. Its outer face was completely covered with gesso ; upon this prepared surface there [ to I'AINTKI^ BASKET (?<«. JU Si’Jl A Survey of the AntecMmber vrtre a series of brilliantiy coloured and exquisitely painted designs— hunting’ scenes upon the cur\'cd panels of the lid, battle scenes upon the md upon the ends representations of the king in lion form, trampling his enemies under his feet. The illustrations on Plates L-LIV^ give but a faint idea of i:he delicacy of the painting, which far surpasses anji^hing of the kind that E^'pt has yet produced. No photograph could do it justice, for even in the original a magnifying glass is essential to a due appreciation of tlie sraallcT details, such as the stippling of the lions* coats, or the decoration of the horses' trappings, Tiiere is another remarkable thing about the painted scenes upon this box. Tlie motives are Egyptian and tlie treatment Egj'pHan, and yet tliey leave an impression on your mind of something strangely non-Egyptian, and you cannot for the life of you explain exactly where the diflercnce lies. They remind you of other things, too— the finest Persian miniatures, for instance — and there is a curious floating impression of Benozao Gozzoli, due, maybe, to the gay little tufts of flowers which fill the vacant spaces. Tlie contents of the box were a queer jumble. At tlie top there were a pair of rush and papyrus sandals, and a royal robe, completely covered with a decoration of beadwork and gold sequins, Beneath them were otlier decorated robes, one of wJiich had had attadied to it upwards of three thousand gold rosettes, tliree pairs of Court sandals elaborately worked in gold, a gilt head-rest, and otlier miscellaneous objects. Tills was tlie first box we opened, and the ill-assorted nature of its contents — to say notliing of the manner in w'hich The Tomb of Tut-ankh-Amen tliey were crusiied and bundled together—was a con¬ siderable puzzle to us. The reason of it became plain, enough later, os u-e shall shovr In the following chapter. Next, omitting some small unimpoTtant objects, WD came to the end (north) wall of tlie diamber. Here was the tantalizing sealed doorway, and on either side of it, mounting guard over the entrance, stood the life-size wooden statues of the king already described. Strange and imposing figures tliese, even as we first saw them, surrounded and half concealed by otlier objects : as they stand noiv in the empty chamber, with notiiing in front of tiiem to diatract the eye, and Ijeyimd thenr, through the opened door, the golden shrine half visible, they present an appear¬ ance that is almost painfully impressive. Originally they w'cre slirouded Id shawls of linen, and tlus, too, must have added to the effect. One other point about this end wall, and an interesting one. Unlike the other walls of the chamber, its wdiole surface was covCTcd with plaster, and n dose exanunation revealed tlic fact tliat from top to bottom it was but a blind, a mere {mrtition w*all. Turning now to the long (west) wail of tlic cliain* her, we found tlte whole of the wall-space occupied - by the three great anlnml -sided couches, curious pieces of furniture which we knew from illustrations in the tomb paintings, but of w'lucii we Eiad never seen actual examples before. Tlie first w*as lion* headed, the second cow-headed, and the tliird Imd the licad of a composite animal, half Jiippopotamujs and half crocodile, Kach was made in four pieces for convemence in carrying, the frame of tiie actual bed fitting by means of hook and staple to the ltd A Survey of the Antechamber aolma] sides, the feet of the animals themsd^^ ting into an open pedestal. As is usually the case in Egyptian beds, eacdi had a foot panel hut notliing at the head, AhoTe, below, and around these couelies, packed tightly together, and in some cases perciied precariously one upon anotiier, was a miscellany of smaller objects, of which we shall only have space Itere to mention the more important. Thus, resting on the northernmost of the eouches — the lion- headed one — -there was a bed of ebony and woven cord, with a panel of housclioki gods delightfully carv'ed, and, resting upon this again, there were a collection of elaborately decorated staves, a quiverful of arrow’s, and a number of compound bows. One of these last was cased with gold decorated with hands of inscription and aniinal motives in granulated w'ork of almost inconceivable fineness — a masterpiece of jewellers' craft. Another, a double compound bow, terminated at either end in the carved figure of a captive, so arranged tliat tlieir necks served as notches for the string, the pleasing idea being that every time the king used the how he bow-strung a brace of captives. Be¬ tween bed and couch there were four toEch-holders of bronze and gold, alisolutely new in type, one with its torch of tw’isted linen still in position in the oil- cup ; a charmingly wrought alabaster libation vase ; and, its lid resting askew*, a casket, with decorative panels of brilHant turquoise-blue faience and gold. This casket, as we found later in the laboratory, contained a numher of interesting and valuable objects, among others a leopard -skin priestly robe, with decoration of gold and silver stai^ and gUt leopard- licad, inlaid with coloured glass ; a very 113 The Tomb of TuPankh-Amen large and beautifully worked scarab of gold and lapis lazuli blue glass; a buckle of sheet gold, wHh a decoration of hunting scenes applied in trdiiuteslmally small granules ; a sceptre in solid gold and lapis lazuli glass (Plate XXni) ; beautifully colourwl collarettes and necklaces of faience ; and ft handful of massive gold rings, tv^isted up in a fold of linen — of wlii cli more an on. Beneath the couch, resting on the floor, stood a large chest, made of a delightful combination of ebony, ivQry, and red wood, which contained a nunibcr of srnall vases of alabaster and glass ; two black wooden shrines, cadi containing the gilt figure of a snake, cmbletn and standard of the tcntli nome of Upper Egj-pt (Aplu^topolis) ; a delightful little chair, witli decorative panels of ebony, ivory, and gold, too small for otlier than a child’s use j two folding duck-fitoob, inlaid with ivory; and an alabaster box, with incised ornaaientatioa flUed ui with pigments. A long box of ebony and white painted wood, with trellis- wotkefl stand and hinged lid, stood free upon the floor in front of the eoudu Its contents were a curious Tnixtuce. At the top, cnmipled to¬ gether and stuffed in as packing, there were shirts and a .number of the king's undcr-gamicjits, whereas below, more or less orderly arranged upon the bottom of tlie box, there were sticks, bows, and a large num¬ ber of arrows, the points of these last having all been bnjkcn off and stolen for their metal. As originally deposited, the box probably contained nolliing but sticks, bows and arrows, and included not t>n]y those from the top of the bed already desenbed, but n number of others which had been 1J4 iVvrF- XXII tl.l;:'ThU ttV ALAtlA^ilLR A Survey of the Anteclminber scattered in vario'us quarters of tlie chamber. Some of tlie sticks were of very remarkable workmanship. One terminated In a enrve* on whieli were fashioned the figures of a pair of captives, with tied arms mid interlocked feet, the one an African, the other an Asiatic, tlidr faces car^-ed in ebony and ivory re¬ spectively. The latter figure, an almost painfully realistic [piece of work, is shown on Plate On another of the sticks a very effective decoration waa contrived by arrongiiig minute scales of iridescent beetlc'W^tigs in a pattern, wJulc in others again there was an applied pattern of variegated barks. With the sticks there were a whip in ivory and four cubit nieasurcs. To the left of the couch, between it and the next one, there were a toilet table and a cluster of wonderful perfume jars in carved alabaster (jd'C Piate XXII). So much for the first couch. The second, the cow'-headed one, facing us as we entered the chamber, was even more crowded. Resting precariously on top of it there was another bed of wood, painted white, and, balanced on top of Un‘s again, a rush- work diair, extraordinarily modem-looking in appear¬ ance and design, and on ebony and red-wood stool. Bdow the hwi and resting actually on the framework of the coucii, there were, among otlier tilings, an ornamental white stool, a curious rounded box of ivory and ebony veneer, and a pair of gilt sislra —instruments of music that are usually associated with Ilathor, the goddess of joy and dancing* (Plate XXIII). Below, tlic centre space was occupied by a pile of oviform wooden cases, containing trussed ducks and a variety of otirer food oFferings. * TbMc m tiro oI Ibc ttiuDjQtcs ot 1-Iutbor. Tlvim an nijiay otherf 115 The Tomb of Tut*ankh’Amen Standing on tlie (Jcror in front of the couch tiiere were two wooden boxes, one having a collarette and a pad of rings resting loose upon its lid ; a large stool of rush- work, and a smaller one of wood and reed- Tlie larger of the two boxes had an interest¬ ing and varied list of contents. A docket, wTittcn in hieratic on the lid, quotes seventeen objects of lapis iar-uli blue, and within there were sixteen liba¬ tion vases of blue faience;, the scventeentli l>eiDg found subsequently in another part of the chamber* In addition, Uirown carelessly in, Uicre were a number of other faience cups ; a pair of electrum boomerangs, mounted at either end w’ith blue faience; a beautiful little casket of eai*\*ed ivory ; a calcite' wine-strainer j a very elaborate tapestry-proven gar¬ ment ; and tiie greater part of a corslet. This last —which we sliall have occasion to describe at sonic length in Chapter X — w'as composed of several t hem- sand pieces of gold, glass, and faience, and tticie is no doubt tJmt when it has been deaned and its various parts assembled it will be the most imposing thing of its kind that Egjipt has ev^er producctl. Between this couch and the third one, tilted care¬ lessly over on to its side, lay a magnirieent cedar- wood chair, elaborately and delicately carved, and embellished with gold («<?€ Plate LX). We come now to the tliird couch, flanked by its pair of queer eompositc animals, with open moutlis, and teeth and tongue of ivory. Resting on top of it in solitary state there w'as a large round-topped chest, witli ebony frame and panels painted white. This was originally Uielchest 'of unda^linem It still contained a number of garments— loin -clotlis, etc.— most of tlieni folded nnd rolled into neat little ii6 XXIII THE KliSG ;^ llllErTHE «E c;t>U» \MJ l Al’IS LAZL'U Ut.l E GLASS. <Bf TSTd 51^'K.A OF c;ll.T ’(HH>n AXh HHONVEE. A Survey of the Antecfiamber bundles. ‘ Below this coiucii stood another of the great artistic treasures of the tomb — ^perltaps the greatest so far taken out — a throne, overlaid with gold from top to bottom, and richly adorned with glass, faience, and stone inlay Plate XXIV J. Its legs, fashioned in feline form, were siirmoianted by hons^ heads, fascinathig in their strength and simplicity. Jlagnifieent crowned and winged serpents formed the arnis, and between tlie bars which supported the back til ere were six protective cobras, carved in wood, gilt and iolaid. It was the panel of the back, how¬ ever, that was tlie cliief glory of tlie tlirone, and I have no hesitation in elaimmg for it that it is Uie most beautiful tiung that has yet been found in Egypt. A photograpli, which witliout colour gives but a very inadequate idea of its beauty, is shown on Plate U. Tile sceuc is one of the halls of the palace, a room decorated with flower- garlanded pillars, frieze of umi (royal cobras), and dado of conventional “ recessed ” panelling. Through a hole in the roof the sun shoots down his life-giving protective rays. Tlie king himself sits in an unconventional attitude upon a cushioned throne, his arm thrown carelessly across its back. Before him stands the girlijsh figure of the queen, putting, apparently, the last touches to Ills toilet ; in one hand she holds a small jar of scent or ointment, and witlj the other she gently anoints Ids shoulder or adds a touch of perfume to his collar. A simple iiomely little composition, but bow instinct witli Life and feeling it is, and with wiiat a sense of movement ! en oujt flnt iintnsiicfi fiito iht^ lomb, were iiiHlakeq tor r4[li ill jhB^yrui, I *7 The Tomb of TnPankh'A^nm The colouiing of the panel is extraordinarily vivid and efTectivc. Tlie face and oUier exjjosed portions of the bodies, l>oth of king and queen+ arc of red glass, and the head-dresses of lirilliant turquoisc-Uke faience. The robes are of silver, dulled by ago to an exquisite bloom. The crowns, collars, scarves, and otJier omatnental details of lire panel are all inlaid, inlay of coloured glass and faience, of came- lian. and of a composition hitherto tinknown—trana lu¬ cent hbrons calcite. underlaid witli coloured paste, in appearance for aU tlie world like Tmilejiari glass. As background we hav'e tlie sheet gold with winch tlie throne was covered. In its original state, with gold and silver fresh and neiiv, the throne must iiave been an absolutely dazzling sight — ^too dazzling, probably, for tJie eye of a Westerner, accustomed to drab skies and neutral tints : now, toned dorni a little by the tarnishing of the alloy, it presents a colour sclicme that is extraordinarily attractive and harmonious. Apart altogether from its artistic merit, the tlirone is an important liistoricid document, Uie scenes upon it being actual illustrations of the {lolitico-religious vacillations of the reign. In original conception — witness Uie human arms on the sun-disk in tlie back panel — they are based on pure Tell el Amarna Aten worship. The cartoudics, howev'cr, ore curiously mixed. In some of them the Aten dement has been erased and the Amen form substituted, whereas in others tlie Aten remains unchallenged. It is curious, to say the least of it, that an object which bore sucli manifest signs of heresy upon it slionld Ims publicly buried lit Uiis, tlie stronghold of the Amen faith, and it is perhaps not without signihcancc tliat on ttS Plate XMV THKOMt: HUnSl'iHlL UEMIVTM inK THOLKHIS c;oiii:H. A Survey of the Antechamber this particular part of tlie throne there vere remmns of a Imen wrapping. It would Appear tliot Tut- aitkh'Amen^s return to the ancient faith was not entirely a matter of conviction. He may have thought the throne too valuable a possession to destroy^ and have kept it in one of the more private apartments of the palace ; or, again, it is possible tliut the alteration in the Aten names was suflicicnt to ap{)ease tlic sectarians, and that there was no necti for scereey- Upon tlie seat of the tlirone rested the footstool that originally stood before it, a stool of gilded wood and dai'k blue faience, w'ith panels on the top and sides on whitdi were represented captives, bound and prone. This wus a verj^ common convention in the East—** until I make thine enemies tliy footstool,** sings the Psalmist — and we may be sure that on certain occasions convention became actual fact. Before the couch there ivere two stools, one of plain wood painted white, the other of ebony, ivory, and gold, its carved in the aimpe of ducks’ heads, its top made in Uie semblance of leopard skin, with claws Jind spots of ivoiy — the hnest example ire know of its kind. Beltind it, resting against the south wall of ttie chamber, there were a number of important objects. First came a shrine-shaped box witli double doors, fastened by shooting bolts of ebony. This was entirely cased ivith thick sheet- gold, and on the gold, in delicate low relief, there were a scries of little panels on Plate LX\*III), depicting, in delightfully naive fashion, a number of qiisodes in the daily life of king and queen. In all of tlu£c scenes the donunnnt note is that of friendly relationship between the husband and the The Tomb of Tut-ankh*Ameti wife, Uie unsdrconscmus fricndUnesti that marks tJie Tell el Amama school, and one would not be sur¬ prised to find that here, too, tliere had been a change in the cartouches from the Aten to the Amen, WiUun the shrine there was a pedestal, showing that it had originaEy contained a statuette ; it may well have been a gold one, an object, unfortunately, too conspicuous for tlie plunderers to overlook. It also contained a necklace of enormous beads, gold, car* nclion, green feldspar and blue glass, to which was attached a large gold pendant in tiie sliape of a very rare snake goddess j and considerable portions of Lite corslet already referred to in our description of one of the earlier l)Oxcs. Beside this shrine there was a large ahnwubii statuette of the king, carved, gilded, and painted, and a little farther along, peering out from behind Ihe overturned body of a chariot, a statue of pecu¬ liar form, cut sharp off at waist and elbows. This yros exactly life-size, and Its body was painted white in evident imitation of a sliirt ; there can be very little doubt that it represents a mannequin, to wiuch the king s robes, and possibly liis collars, could be fitted (Plate XXV). There were also in this same quarter of the chamber another toilet box and the scattered pieces of a gilt canopy or shrine. These last were of extremely light construction, and were made to fit rapidly one to anotlier. The canopy was probably a travelling one. carried in the king's train wherever he went, aiwl set up at a moment’s notice to slilclil him from the sun. The rest of the south wall and tlie whole of tlie east, AS lar as the entrance doorway, were taken up by Hie iMirts of no fewer tlian four cliariots. As 1 'I'IiIf Hiiiiri* h Cif 4’orvi' J co^erril wUb a||i| I( wM^ probiilily tisjHj sillier far tbr kingV or rdWil rt.AT> XXV A Survey of the Antechamber the photograph shows, they were heaped together in terrible conftision, the plunderers having evidently turned theni this way and that, in their endeavonrs to secure the more valuable portions of tlte gold decoration which covered them. Theirs not the whole responsibility, howe^'er. The entrance passage was far too narrow to admit tfie ingress of complete chariots, so, to enable them to get into the chamber, the axles were deliberately saim in two, tlie wheels dismounted and piled together, and the dismembered bodies placed by themselves. In the re-assembling and restoration of these chariots we have a prodigious task tdiead of us, but the results will be gorgeous enough to justify any amount of time that is bestowed upon them. From top to bottom they are covered with gold, every indi of which is decorated, eitlicr witfi embossed patterns and scenes upon the gold itself, or with inlaid designs in coloured glass and stone. Hie actual woodwork of the chariots is in good condition and needs but little treatment, but with the horse- trappings and other leather parts it is quite another story, the uiitanucd leather having been affected by tiio damp and turned into a black, unpleasant-looking glue. F'ortunately tliese [eather parts were, in almost every Instance, plated with gold, and from this gold, wliich is well preserved, w'e hope to be able to make a reconstruction of the harness. Mixed wnith Uic chariot ports tlicre were a number of miscellaneous smaller objects, including alabaster jars, more sticks and bows, bead sandals, baskets, and a set of four horscliair ily-whisks, with lion-head handles of gilded wood. We have now' mode a complete tour of the ,4nle' 3 111 The Tomb of Tut-ankh-Amen diatnbcr — a fairly comprehensive one, it seemed — and yet we find, by reference to our notes, that out of some six or seven hundred, objects which it con¬ tained we liave mentioned a scant hundred. Notliing but a complete catalogue, transcribed ftom our reg^ter car^, would give an adequate idea of the extent of the discovery, and in the present volume that is naturally out of the question. We must con¬ fine ourselves here to a more or less summary descrip¬ tion of the principal finds, and reserve a detailed study of the objects for later publications. It would be impossible, in any case, to attempt such an accoimt at the present moment, for there are months, possibly years, of reconstructive work ahead of us, if the material is to be treated as it deserves. We must remember, too, tliat we have dealt so far with but a single chamber. There are inner chambers still untouched, and w'e hope to find among their contents treasures far surpassing those with which the present volume is concerned. H2 CHAPTER Vm CjXA&ING TIIE ANT£CEtA:^ER CLEARING the objceU from the Antechamber was like playing a gigantic game of spillikins. So crowded were they that it was a matter of extreme difficulty to move one without running serious risk of damaging others, and in some eases they were so inextricably tangled titat an elaborate system of props and supports had to be devised to hold one object or group of objects in place while another was being removed {see Plate XXVI). At such times life w'as a nightmare. One w'as afraid to move lest one should kick against a prop and bring tlic whole thing crasliing doum. Nor, in many cases, could one tell without experiment whether a particular object was strong enough to bear its own weight. Certain of the things were in beautiful condition, as strong as when they first were made, but others were in a most precarious state, and the problem constantly arose whether it would be better to apply preser%'a- tive treatment to an object in sitUt or to wnit until it could be dealt with in more convenient surround¬ ings in the laboratory. The latter course was adopted w“henevet possible, but there were cases in which the removal of an object without treatment would have meant almost certain destruction. There were sandals, for instance, of patterned bead'W’ork, of which the threading had entirely rotted away. As they lay on the floor of tlie chamber they 133 The Totnb of TuhankhAmen looked in perfectly sound condition, but, try to pick one up, and it crumbled at the touch, and all you had for your pains was a handful of loose, meaning¬ less beads. This was a clear case for treatment on the spot — ^a spirit stove, some paralhn wax, an hour or two to harden, anti the sandal could be removed intact, and liandicd with the utmost freedom, Tlie funerary bouquets again {aee Plate XXVII): witiiout treatment as they stood tiiey would have ceased to exist ; subjected to three or four sprayings of celluloid solution they bore removal well, and were subsequently packed with scarcely any injury. Occasionally, par¬ ticularly with the larger objects, it was found better to apply local treatment in the tomb, just sufUcient to ensure a safe removal to tlie laboratory, wliere more drastic measures were possible. Each object pre¬ sented a separate problem, and, as I said before, tJierc were cases in whicli only experiment could sliow what the proper treatment was to be. It was slow work, painfully slow, and nerve- racking at that, for one felt all tl)e time a heavy weight of responsibility. Every excavator must, if he liave any arelimological conscience at all. The tilings he finds are not his own property, to treat as he pleases, or neglect as he chooses. Tlicy arc a direct legacy from the past to the present age, he but the privileged intermediary through w'hose hands tlwy come; and if, by cardcssness, slackness, or ignorance, he lessens the sum of knowledge Uiat might have been obtained from tliem, he know's liim- self to he giiilty of an ardueological crime of the first magtutude. Destruction of evidence is so pain¬ fully easy, and yet so hopdcssly irreparable. Tired or pressed for time, you shirk a tedious piece of MHVk ^ll r flAHUrlA U’JM: TIIK I’Hiith^S ilF iXKvm.M: Clearing the Antechamber cJeamng, or do it in a Ualf-hcarted, perfunctory sort of way, aiul you will perhaps have thrown away the one chance that will ever occur of gaining some important piece of knowledge. Too many people — unfortunately there are so- ctiLled archsEologists among them— arc apparently under tlie impression that the object bought from a dcaier^s shop is just as valuable as one which lias been found in actual excavation, and that until the object in question lias been cleaned, entered in the books, marked with an accession number, and placed in a tidy museum case, it is not a proper subject for study at all. There was never a greater mistake. Field-work is all-important, and it is a sure and certain fact that if every excavation had been pro¬ perly, systematically, and conscientiously carried out, our knowledge of Egj^ptian archaeology would be at least 50 per cent, greater than it is. There are numberless derelict objects in the storerooms of our museums which would give us valuable itiformatian could they but tell us whence they came, and box after box fidl of fragments which a few notes at the time of finding would liave rendered capable of reconstruction. Granting, then, that a heavy weight of responsi¬ bility must at all btines rest upon tiie excavator, our own feelings on this occasion will easily be realiaed. It had been our privilege to imd the most important collection of Egyptian antiquities that laid ever seen Uie light, and it was for us to show tliat we were worthy of tlie trust. So many tilings there were that might go wrong. Danger of theft, for instance, was an ever-present anxiety. The whole countryside was agog with excitement about the tomb ; aU sorts of “*5 The Tomb of Tut-ankh-Amen extravagHBt tales iverc ciiireiit about the gold and jewels it contained ; and, tiA past experience had shown, it was only too possible that there might be a serious attempt to raid the tomb by night. This possibility of robbery on a large scale was negatived, so far as was hmnanly possible, by a complicated system of guarding, there being present In Tlie Valley, day and night, three independent groups of watchmen, each answerable to a different authority — ^the Government Antiquities Guards, a squad of soldiers supplied by the Sludir of Kena, and a selected group of tlie most trustwortliy of our own staff. In addition, we had a heavy wx}odai grille at the entrance to IJie passage, and a massive steel gate at the inner doorw'ay, each secured by four pad¬ locked chains ; and, ttiat there might never be any mistake about these latter, the keys were in tlie permanent charge of one particular member of the European staff, who ne\'er parted with them for a moment, ei^en to lend them to a colleague. Petty or casual tlieft we guarded against by doing ail the handling of tlie objects oursdves. Anotlicr and perhaps an even greater cause for anxiety was the condition of many of the objects. It was manifest with some of them that tlicir very existence depended on carcfiil manipulation and correct preser\'ative treatment, and Uicrc were moments when our hearts were in our mouths. There were other worries, too — -visitors, for instance, hut I shall liave quite a little to say about them later — and I fear tliat by the time the Antechamber was finished our nerves, to say notliing of our tempers, were in an extremely ragged state. But here am I talking about finishing before we liave oven begun. t ?L\x^ XXVfl FTNKRAKY KT, Clearing the Antechamber We must make a fresh start. It is not time to lose our tempecs yet. Obviously, our first and greatest need vras photb^ graphy- BofoTe anything else was done, or anything moved, we must have a series of preliminary views, taken in panorama, to show the general appearance of the chamber. For lighting we had available two movable electric standards, giving 3,000 candle- power, and it was nith these that all the photo¬ graphic w ork in the tomb was done. Exposures were naturally rather slow, but the light was beautifully even, much more so than would have been afforded by flashlight — a dangerous process in sueli a crowded chamber — or reflected sunlight, which were the two possible altenuitives. Fortunately for us. tliere was an uninscribed and empty tomb close by — Uie Davis cache tomb of Akli'en'AteiL This we got permission from tlte Government to use as a dark room, and here Burton established himself. It was not too con¬ venient in some ways, but it was w'orth while putting up with a little inconvenience to have a dark room so close, for in the case of experimental exposures he could slip across and develop without moving his camera out of position. Moreover, these periodic dashes of his from tomb to tomb must have been a godsend to the ctoivd of cmious visitors who kept vigil above tlie tomb, for there were many days during the winter in which it >vas the only excitement they had. Our next step, after tliese preliminary photo* graplis hiid been taken, was to de^^'ise an eflicient method of registering the contents of the chamber, for it would be absolutely essential, later on, that wc should have a ready means of ascertaining the The Tomb of Tut’ankhoAmen exa^rt part of the tomb from which any parti cudar object might have come. Natiirany, each object, or closely allied group of objects, would be given its own catalogue niunber, and wmJd have that number securely attached to it when it was moved aw ay from tJic chamber, but tliat was not enough, for the niiin« her might not indicate position. So far as possible, the numbers “were to follow^ a definite order, begin¬ ning at the entrance doorway and worhijjg system¬ atically round the ciianiher, but it was 'I'cry certain that many objects now hidden w-ouJd be found m the course of clearing, and have to be numbered out of tum. We got over the difficulty by' placing printed numbers on every object and photographing them in small groups. Every number showed in at least one of the photographs, so that, by duplicating prints, wc were able to jilace with the notes of every single object in our filing cabinets a print wlueh sliowed at a glance its actual ]K>sition in the tomb. So far, so good, as far as the internal work in the tomb w'as concerned. Outside it, wc had a still more difficult problem to solve, that of Jintling adequate working and storage space for the objects as they were removed. Tiiree tilings were absolutely essen¬ tial. In the first place we must have plenty of room. There would be boxes to unpack, notes and raeasure- ments to be taken, repairs to be carried out, experi¬ ments ivitli various preservative materials to be uaide, and obviously we should require considerabic table accommodation as well ns ordinary storage space. Then, secondly, \ve must have a place that we could render thief-proof, for, as things were moved, the laboratory would come to he almost as great a source of danger as the tomb itself. Lastly, wc must liave Clearing the Antechamber seclusion. Tills may seem a less obvious need than, the others, but we foresaw, and the winter*s happen¬ ings proved us to be right, that unless we were out of sight of visitors" ordinary haunts we should be treated as a side-show, and should be unable to get any work done at all. Eventually we sotvwl the problem by getting pcrmtssioii from the Govcmnient to take over the tomb of Seti II (No. 15 in The Valley catalogue). This certainly fulliUed the tliird of our rctjivirements. It is not a tomb ordinarily visited by tourists, and its position, tucked away in a comer at tlie extrejne end of The Volley, was exactly suit- abte to our purpose. No other tomb lay beyond it, BO, without causing inconvenience to anyone, we could close to ordinary traffic the path that led to it, and thus secure complete privacy for ourselves. It had other advantages, too. For one thing, it was so well sheltered by overhanging clilfs that at no time of day did tlie sun ever penetrate its doors, thus remaining comparatively cool even in the hottest of summer weather. There was also a considerable amount of open space in front of it, and this we utilized later as an open-air photographic studio and a carpenter’s shop. We were somewhat restricted as to space, for the tomb vras so long and narrow that all our w^rk Imd to be done at the upper end of it, the lower part being useless cxcejrt for storage pur¬ poses. It had also the disadvantage of being ratlier a long way from tlie scene of operations. Tliese, how¬ ever, were but minor draw’ backs compared with the positive advantages wluch the tomb offeriKl. We had a reasonable amount of room, we had privacy, and safety H*c ensure<t by putting up a many-padlocked steel gate, one and a iiaif tons in weight. 139 The Tomb of Tut'ankh*Amen One otlicr point iviih regard to tlie laboratory work the reader should bear in mind. We were five hundred miles from anjTvhcre, and, if we ran short of preservative materials, there might be consider¬ able delay before we could secure a fresh supply. The Cairo shops furnished most of our needs, but there were certain cheniicals of which we exhausted tlie entire Cairo stock before the winter was over, and otlier things which, in the first instance, could only be procured in England, Constant care and forethought were therefore necessary to prevent sliortage and the consequent holding up of the vrork. Bj' December 27th all our preparations were made, and we ivere ready to make a start on the actual removal of the objects. We worked on a regu^ system of division of labour. Burton came first witli his photographs of the numbered groups of objects j Hall and Hauser followed vrith their scale plan of the chamber, every object being drawn on the plan in projection ; Callender and I did the preliminary noting and clearing, and superintended the removal of tlie objects to the laboratory ; and there Mace and Lucas recciA^ed them, fl»d were responsible for the detail-noting, mending, and presers'ation. Tlic first object to be removed was the painted wooden casket. Then, working from north to soutlt, and thus putting oil the evil day when we should have to tackle the complicated tangle of cliariots, we gradually disencumbered the great animal couclies of the objects which surrounded them. Each object as it was removed ivas placed upon a padded wooden strelcher and securely fastened to it with bandages. Enormous numbers of these stretchers were required, for, to avoid double handling, they were in almost Clearing tlie Antechamber every case left permanently \sith the object, and not re-used. From time to time, when a sufficient number of stretchera Lad been Alletl^ — about once a day, on an average— a convoy was made up and dispatched under guard to the labomtory. This was the moment for wliich the crowd of watdiers above the tomb were waiting. Out came the reporters* note-books, click, clicks click went the cameras in every direction, and a lane had to be cleared for the procession to pass through. 1 suppose more films were wasted in The Valley last winter tlrnn in any other correspondiiig period of time since cameras were first invented. We in the laboratory had occa¬ sion once for a piece of old mummy clotli for experi¬ mental purposes ; it was sent up to us in a stretcher, and it was photographed eight times before it got to us 1 The removal and transport of the smaller objects was a comparatively simple matter, but it was quite otherwise when it came to the animal couches and the chariots. Each of die former was constructed ill four pieces — ^tbe two animal sides, the bed proper, and the base to wliich the aniumis* feet ivcrc socketed. They were manifestly much too large to negotiate the narrow entmnee passage, and must have been brought into the tomb in sections and assembled there. Indeed, strips of newer gold round the joints show where the damage ttiey had incurred in hand¬ ling Jiad been made good after deposition. It was obvious that to get the couches out of the tomb we must take tliem apart again ; no easy matter, for after three thousand years the bronze hooks liad naturally set tight in the staples, and would not budge. We got them apart eventually, and with i3i The Tomb of Tut'ankh'Amen scarcely any damage, bub it took no fewer ilian five of tis to do it. Two supported the central part of the eoucli, tw'^o were responsible for the wdl-bdng of Ute animals, while the fifth, working from underneath, eased up the liooks^ one after the other, with a lever. Kven when taken apart tlio’e was none too mudi room to get the side animals tlirongh the ]}assBge, and they needed very careful handling. However, we got them all out witliout accident, and packed them straight into boxes we had in readiness for tlieni just outside the entrance to the tomb. Most difficult of all to move were the chariots, whicli iia<i suJlcrcd considerably from the treatment to W'htch they had been subjected. It had not been possible to get tliem into the tomb whole in the first instance, for tlicy were too wide for the entrance passage, and the wheels had had to be removed and the icdcs sawn off at one end. Tliey liad evidently been moved out of position and turned upside down by the plunderers, and in the subsequent tidying up tlic parts liad been loosely stacked one upon anotlier. Egyptian chariots are of very light coDstruction, and tlie rough usage wltich they bad undergone made these extremely difficult to liandle. There was another complication, in that the parts of the harnc^ were made of undressed leather. Now this, if exposed to humidity, speedUj^ resolves itself Into glue, and that was wliat l^ad happened here — the black glutinous mass wliich represented the trappings liaving run down over everything and dropped, not only on the other parts of tlie chariots themselves, but upon other objects which had nothing to do wdth them. Thus tlie leather has almost entirely perished, but, fortunately, as 1 have already stated, we have for 13a l ltnUKHlJi i:iiU«aL ijlq ntlirrrt»* tlwli" Au*"’*''' Clearing the Antechamber reconstructirmal purposes tfie gold ornamentation with which it was covered. Seven weeks in all it took us to clear the Ante* chamber, and thankful indeed were we when it was finished, anti that without any kind of disaster be¬ falling us. One scare we liad. For two or three days the sky was very black, and it looked as though we were in for one of the heavy storms that occa¬ sionally visit Thebes. On such occasions rain comes down in torrents, and if the storm persists for any length of time the whole bed of The Valley becomes a raging flood. No power on earth could have kept our tomb from being flooded under these conditions, but, fortunately, though tliere must have been heavy rain somewhere in the district, we escaped with but a few drops. Certain correspondents indulged in some highly imaginative writing on the subject of this tlireatened storm. As a rcsidt of this and other distorted news wc received a somewhat cryptic cable, sent presumably by a sicalous student of the occult. It ran : “ In the ease of furtber trouble, pour milk, wine and honey on the threshold." Unfortunately, we had neither wine nor honey with us, so were unable to carry out tltc dircctioas. In spite of our negligence, however, we escaped the fiirtJier trouble. Perhaps wc were given absent treatment. In the course of our d caring wc naturally accumu¬ lated a good deal of evidence with regard to the activities of the original tomb-plunderers, and this will be as good a place as any to give a statement of the conclusions at w’liieh wc arrived. In the first place, ^ve ktiow from tlie sealings on the outer doonvay that all the plundering was done ^vithin a very few years of tlie king^s burial. We 133 The Tomb of TuPankh'Amen also know that the plunderers ratered the tomb at least twice. There were broken scattered objects on the floor of the entrance passage and staircase, proiing tliat at the time of the first attempt the passage-way between the inner and the outer sealed doors was empty. It is, I suppose, just possible that this preliminary ptimdering was done iramcdiately after tlie funeral ceremonies. Thereafter the passage was entirely filled with stones and rubbish, and it was through a tunnel excavated in the upper left- hand comer of tJus iilling tiiat the subsetjuent at¬ tempts w’ere made. At this final attempt Uie tliieves had penetrated Into all the chambers of the tomb, hut their tunnel was only a narrow one, and clearly they could not have got aw'ay with any except the smaller objects. Now as. to internal evidence of the damage tliey had been able to effect. To begin with, Uierc was a strange difference between the respective states in wiiich the .;\ntechambcr and the Annexe had been left. In the latter, as we have described in the preceding chapter, evef)''thiiig w'as in confusion, and there was not a vacant indi of floor-space. It iras qtute evident that the plunderers had turned every¬ thing topsy-turvy, and that the present state of tlie ^amber was precisely tlmt in wJiich they had left it. The Antechamber was quite different. There was a certain amount of confusion, it was true, but it was orderly confusion, and had it not been for the e^ddence of plundering afforded by the tunnel and the re-sealed doorways, one might liave imagined at first view that tliere never had been any plundering, and that the confusion was due to Oriental careless¬ ness at the time of the funeral. ^34 Clearing the Antechamber However, when we commencerl clearing, it quickly became manifest that tliia comparative orderliness was due to a process of hasty tidying-up, and that the plunderers had been just as busy here as Uicy had in the Annexe. Parts of tlie same object were found in different quarters of the chamber * objects that should have been in boxes were lying on the floor or upon the couches j on tlie lid of one of the boxes there was a collar. Intact but crumpled j 1>e- hind the eliariots, in an entirely inaccessible place, there was a box-lid, the box to which it belonged, being far away, near the innennost door. Quite clearly the plunderers had scattered things here just as they had done in the Annexe, and someone had come after them and rearranged the elianiber. Later, when we came to unpack the boxes, we found still more circtimstantial evidence. One, the long w'hite box at tlie north end of the chamber, was half ftiU of sticks, bows and arrows, and above, stuffed tightly in upon them, there was a mixed collection of the king’s under-linen. Yet the metal points had been broken from aU the arrows, and a few were found dropped upon the floor. Other sticks and bows that obviously belonged to this box were likewise scattered in Uic chamber. In another box there were a number of decorated robes, bundled together and tlirust in anyhow, and mixed witli them several pairs of sandals. So tightly lia<l the contents of the box been stuffed, that the metal toc*thong of one of the sandals had pierced right tlirough its own ieatiier sole and penetrated tliat of another whidi lay beneath it. In still another box, jewellery and tiny statuettes had been packed on top of faience libation vases. Others, again, ivere half empty, or ^3S The Tomb of Tut‘ankh‘Amen contained a mere jumble of odds and ends of eloUi. Til ere moreover^ certain evidence that this confusion was due to hasty rcpackingt and had fiotliing to do with the original arrangement of the boxes, for on the lids of several there were neat little dockets stating dearly what the contents should have been, and in only one case did the docket bear any sort of relation to tlie contents as they actwally were. This partieular docket called for “ 17 (un¬ known objects) of lapis liwmli colour." Whliin Uie box there were sixteen libation vases of dark blue faience, and a seventeenth was on the floor of tl»e dsamber some distance away. KvcntuaJly, in our final study of tlie material these dockets will be of great value. We shall bt able, in a great many cases, to apportion out the objects to the boxes w^hich originally contained them, and shall know exactly what is missing. The best evidenee of all was supplied by a very elaborate garment of faience, gold and inlay, com- prising in one piece corslet, collar and pectoral. The largest jmrtion of it w'as foimd in the box which contained the faience ^'ases just mentioned ; the pectoral and most of the collar were tucked away in Uxe small gold alirino ; and isolated pieces of it turned uj) in seveml other boxes, and were scattered all over the fioor. There is nothing at prexcut to show whidi of the boxes it originally bdonged to, or even that it actually belonged to any of them. It is quite possible that the plunderers brought it from the innermost eiiambcr to tlie better light of the Ante¬ chamber. and there deliberately pulled it to pieces. From the facts at our disposal we can now re- 136 t Vhxtv. XXIX Pi-:iiE>'J'AL UF srr.ATL'tTTt IN T«E SUAU COLDEN jillHlSE- Clearing the Antechamber construct tlie wiiote sequence of events, A breach was first made in the upper left-hand comer of the first sealed dooFt just large enough to admit a tnan, and tlien the tunnelling began, the excavators work¬ ing in a dtain, passing t}ie stones and baskets of eartli back from one to another. Seven or eight hours’ work might sullice to bring them, to the second sealed door; a hole in this, and they were through. Then in the semi-darkness began a mad scramble for loot. Gold was their natural quarry, but it had to be in portable form, and it must have maddened them to see it glinling all around tliem, on plated objects which they could not move, and had not time to strip. Nor, in the dim light in which they were worldng, could they always distin¬ guish between tJic real and tlie false, and many an object which they took for solid gold was found on closer examination to be but gilded wood, and was contemptuously thrown aside. The boxes were treated in very drastic fasliion, WitJiout exception they w'cre dragged out into the centre of the room and ransacked, their contents being strewn about all over the floor, tMiat valuables they found in them and made away with we may never know, but Uieir search can have been but huiried and superficial, for many objects of solid gold were overloofce<h One very valuable thing wc know they did secure, Witliin the small gold shrine there was a pedestal of gilded wood, made for a statuette, with the imprint of the statuette’s feet still marked upon it (Plate XXIX), tHie statuette itself was gone, and there can be very little doubt that it was a solid gold one, probably very si^lar to the gold statuette of Tliothmes III, in the image of Amen, in tire Carnarvon collection. a 137 The Tomb of Tut-ankh-Amen Next, the Antechamber liaving been thoroughly worked over, the thieves turned their attention to the Annexe, knocking a hole in its doorway just big enougli to let tliem througli, and overturning and ransacking its contents quite as thoroughly as they had done those of the outer cliamber. Then, and apparently not until then, they directed themselves towards tlie burial cliamber, and made ca very small hole in the sealed doonvay which screened it from tlic Antechamber. Ilow much damage they did there we sliall know in due timCt but, so far as wc can tell at present, it was less than in the outer chambers. They may. Indeed, have been disturbed at tliis particular stage in tlie proceedings, and there is a very interesting little piece of evidence that seems to bear the the{>ry out. It may be remembered that in our description of tlie objects in the Antechamber (Chapter Vll) we mentioned that one of the boxes contained a handful of solid gold rings tied up in a fold of doth. Tlicy were just the things to attract a thief, for tlieir intrinsic value was considcrablci and yet they could very easily be liiddcn aw'ay. Now, c\'CTy visitor to Egypt will remember that if you give money to a fellah his ordinary proceeding will be to undo a por¬ tion of his head-shawl, put the coins in a fold of it, twist it round two or three times to hold the coins tight in place, and make it finally secure by looping the bag thus formed into a knot. These rings had been secured in exactly the same ivay — ^Hie same loose fold in the cloth, the same twisting round to form the bag, and tlie same loose knot, lids, un¬ questionably, was the work of one of tiic tliieves. It was not liis head -shawl that he had used — ^thc 138 v ^'l (I’ill triou i.h:ji:i jijraimivm.! Clearing the Antechamber fellah of the period wore no such garment — but one of the king’s seances which he had picked tip in the tomb, and he had fastened them thus for co-nvenienee in carrying { Plate XXX ). How comes it Uien that the precioms bundle of rings was left in the tomb, and not carried off ? It wrs the vciy last thing that a thief would be likely to forget, and* in case of sudden alarm, it was not heavy enough to impede his flight, however hurried that might be. We are almost forced to the cotichiston that tiic tliieves were either trapped within tiic tomb, or overtaken in tlieir flight^traced, in any case, wiUi some of the plunder still upon them. If Uus he so, it explains the presence of certain other pieces of jeweUery and gold-work too valuable to leave and too big to overlook. In any case, tJie fact tliat a robbery had been committed got to tlic ears of the offleials concerned, and they came to the tomb to investigate and make the damage good. For some reason tJiey seem to have been in almost as great a hurry as the tJiieves. and their work of reparation was sadly scamped! The /Vimexe they left severely alone^ not c\'en taking the trouble to fifl up tiie hole in the doorway. In the AntecharaW the smaller objects with which the floor was covered were swept up, bundled together, and jammed-^there is no other word — back into the boxes, no attempt being made to sort the material, or to put the objects into tlie boxes which had been originally intended for them. Some of the boxes were packed tight, others were left almost empty, and on one of tlie couches there were deposited two large bundles of cloth in which a miscellaneous col¬ lection of material had been wrapped. Nor even was all the small materia! gatliercd up. The sticks, *39 The Tomb of Tut-ankh-Amen bo\rs and arrows were left in scattered groups ; on the lid of a box were throw n a crumpled collar of pendants, and a pad of faience rings; and on the floor, one on one side of the chamber and one on the other, ttiere was a pair of &a^le bead- work sandals. The larger objects were pushed carelessly back against tlie walls, or stacked one upon another. Certainly no respect was shown, dtiier to tlic objects themselves, or to the king whose property they were, and one W'ondcrs why, if they tidi^ up so badly, they took tlie trouble to tidy up at all. One thing we must credit them with. They did not do any pilfering, as they migltt easily have doue, on their owm account. We can be reasonably sure of that from the valuable objects, small and easily concealed, whicli tliey repacked into tlie boxes. Tlie Antechamber finished — so far, at least, as they intended to finisli it — ^the hole in the umermost doorway was refilled, plastered, and stomped with the royal necropolis seal. Tlicn, retracing their steps, they dosed and sealed the Antcdmmber door, filled up the plunderers’ tunnel through the passage- blocking, and made good tlie outer doorway. What further steps they took to prevent repetition of the crime we do not know, but probably they buried the whole entrance to the tomb deep out of sight. Better political conditions in Uie country might have prevented it for a time, but in the long run nothing but ignorance of its whereabouts could have saved it from further attempts at plundering; and very certain it is tliat, between the time of this re-dosing and that of our discovery', no liand had toudied the seals upon the door. CHAPTER rX VlsrrOES AND TITE PrE3S A RCH^OLOGY under the limeliglit is ft new and /% rather bewildering experience for most of us, ^ In the post we have gone about our business happily enough, intensely interested in it outsetves, but not expe^ng otlier folk to be more tlmn tepidly polite about it, and now all of a sudden we find the world takes an interest in us, an interest so intense and so avid for details tliat special correspondents at large salaries have to be sent to interview us, report our every movement, and hide round corners to surprise a secret out of us. It is, as I said, a little betrildering for us, not to say embarrassing, and we wonder sometimes just exactly tiow and why it lias all come about, We may wonder, but I think it would puzzle anyone to give an exact answer to the question. One must suppose tliat at the time the discovery 'was made the general public was in a state of profound boredom w'ith new'^s of reparations, conferences and mandates, and craved for some new topic of conversation- The idea of buried treasure, too, is one that applets to most of us. ^Mtatever the reason, or combination of reasons, it is quite certain tlmt, once tlic initial Times dispatch had l>een pub¬ lished, no power on earth could shelter us from the light of publicity tlrnt beat down upon us. Wc were helpless, and had to make the best of it. TJie embarrassing side of it ivas soon brought The Tomb of TuPankh-Amett home to us in no uncertain tuanncr. Telegrams poured in from every quarter of the globe. Within a week or two letters began to follow them,^ a deluge of correspondence tliat has petsisted since. Ajnaztng literature some of it. Beginning witli tetters of congratulation^ it went on to olfers of assist- ancCf ranging all the way from tomb-planiung to personal valeting ; requests for souvenirs — even a few grains of sand from above the tomb would he edved so thankfully j fantastic money offers, from moving*picture rights to copyright on fashions of dress ; advice on the preservation of antiquities, and the best method of appeasing e\il spirits and e!e- ruentals ; press clippings; tracts; would-be facetious eommunications ; stem denunciations of sacrilege; claims of relationship — surely you must be the cousin who lived in Camberwell in 1893, and whom we have never heard of since ; and so on and so on. Fatuous communications of this sort came tumbling In u[>on us at tlm rate of ten or fifteen a day right tlirough the winter. There is a whole sackful of them, and ail interesting psychological study they w'ould make if one bad the time to give to them, Wiat, for instance, is one to make of a person wdio solemnly inquires whether tlie discovery of the tomb tlirows any light on the alleged Bcigmu atrocities in the Congo ? Next came our friends the newTspoper corre* spondents, who Hocked to The Valley in large numbers and devoted all their social gifts — and they were considerable — towards dispcUIng any lingering re¬ mains of loneliness or desert boredom Uiat ive might still Lave left to us. They certainly did their work with some Ihoroughness, for each o\rcd it to liim* VuiTf. X\Xt VISlTdCtS ABOVE THE TOMB, Visitors and the Press s€lf and to his paper to get daily information, and we in Egj-pt were delighted ■n’hen we heard Lord Car- nar^'on's decision to place the whole matter of publicity in the liands ot The Times. Anotlier, and perliaps the most serious of all the embarrassments tliat notoriety brought upon us* was tlie fatal attraction the tomb Imd for visitors. It was not that we wanted to be secretive, or had any objection to visitors as such — as a tnattcr of fact, there are few things more pleasant than showing one's work to appreciative people — but as the situa* tion developed it became very clear tJiat, unless something was done to discourage it, we should spend the entire season plajdng shmvmen, and never get any work done at all. It was surely a nciv chapter in the history of The Valley. Tourist visitors it had always known, but heretofore it had been a business proceeding and not a garden party. Armed ivith guide-books, they had conscientiously visited as many tombs as time, or their dragoman, would allow them, hustled through their lunch, and been hurried off to a further debauch of sight-seeing elsewhere. Tills winter, dragoman and time sclicdulcs were disregarded alike, and many of the ordinary sights were left un visited. Tlie tomb drew like a magnet . From a very early hour in the morning the pilgrimage began. Visitors arrived on donkeys, in sand-carts, and in two-horse cabs, and proceeded to make them¬ selves at home in The Valley for the day. Round the top of the upper level of the tomb there was a low wall, and here they each staked out a claim and established themselves, wailing for something to happen. Sometimes it did, more often it did not, but It seemed to make no difference to their patience. >43 The Tomb of Tutankh'Amen Thei'C they wouitl stt the ivhole morning, reading, talkiiig, knitting, pliotograpliing the tomb and each other, quite satisfied if »t the end tliey could get a glimpse of anything. Great was the CKcitement, always, when word was passed up that something was to be brought out of the tomb. Books and knitting were throwTi aside, and the whole battery of cameras was cleared for action and directed at tlie entrance passage. We were really alarmed some* times lest the whole w'flll should give w*ay, and a crowd of visitors be precipitated into the mouth of the tomb. From above, it must realty have been an imposing spectacle to sec strange objects like the great gilt animats from the couches emerging gradu- ally from the darkness into tlie light of day. We who were bringing them up were much too anxious about their safety in the narrow passage to think about such things ourselves, but a preliminary gasp and then a quick buzz of exclamations brought home to us the effect it had upon the ivateliers above. To these, tlie casual visitors who contented them¬ selves with watching from the top, there could be no objection, and, whenever possible, ive brought things out of tlie tomb 'witliout covers for their special benefit. Our real embarrassment was caused by the numbers of people who, for one reason or another, had to be shown over the tomb itself. This was a difficulty that citmc upon us so graduaUy and insidiously that for a long time we none of us realized what the inev'itable result must be, but in the end it brought the work practically to a standstill. At the beginning ^Tc had, of course, the formal inspec¬ tions of tlie departmental officials concerned. These, natundly, w^e welcomed. In the some w'oy ivc were »44 Pi AT}; WXil THIIUKBH BKIN(. TAK.EK OPT Ol- THK TOMB. Visitors and the Press ahvays ^lad to receive other archicologists. Tlxey bad a right to visit tlie tomb, nnd we were delighted to show them eveiything there was to be seen. So far tlxere was no diSiouity, and there never would be any difiiculty. It was with tlic letters of intro¬ duction that the trouble began. They were written, literally in hundreds, by our friends — we never realised before how many we liad — by our bends' friends, by people who Ixad a real claim upon us, and by people who liad Iras tlian none; for diplo- matic reasons, by Miiiisteis or departmental ofTieiaia in Cairo ; to say nothing of self* written introductioiis. which cither bluntly demanded admittance to the tomb or showed quite clearly and iogeniously how unreasonable it would be to refuse them. One in* gcnlous person even intercepted a telegraph boy, and tried to make the delivery of the message an ejccuse for getting in. Tire desire to visit the tomb became an obsession with the tourist, and in the LuKor hotels the question of ways and means became a regular topic of conversatjon. Those wlto had seen the tomb boasted of the fact openly, and to many of tliosc who had net it became a tnattcr of personal pride to effect an introduction somehow. To such lengths were things carried that certain tourist agencies in America actxxally advertised a trip to Egj^t to see the tomb. All this, as iixay lie imagined, put us in a very awkward position. There were certain visitors whom for diplomatic reasons w'e had to admit, and oUrcia whom wc couhl not refuse without giving serious offence, not only to themselves, but to the third parties whose mtroduction they brought. %Vlierc were we to draw the line ? Obviously something had The Tomb of Tut-ankh-Amen to be done, for, as 1 said, the whole of the work in the tomb was being rapidly brought to a standstilL Ei’entuaUy we solved ttie dlJTieulty by rtmnmg away. Ten days after the opening of the sealed door ive filled tip the tomb, locked and barred tlie laboratory, and disappeared for a week. This made a complete break. Wien we resumed ivorfc tlie tomb itsdf was irrevocably buried, and we made it a lixe(l rule tliat no visits were to be made to the laboratory at all. Now this whole question of visitors is a matter of some delicacy. We have already got into a good deal of hot water over it, and have been accused of tack of consideration, ill manners, self! si mess, boorish- ness, and quite a number of other things ; so perhaps it would be as welt to make a clear statement of the difficulties involved, llicse are two. In the first place, the presence of a number of \Tisitors creates serious danger to the objects themselves, danger that we, who are responsible for tli^, have no right to let them undergo. How could it he otherwise ? Tlie tomb is snrall and crowded, and sooner or later — it actually happened more than once last year — a false step or hasty mo’vement on the part of a visitor ivill do some piece of absolutely Irreparable damage. It is not the fault of the visitor, for he does not and cannot know tlie exact position or condition of e\’tjry object. It 1.1 our fault, for letting him he there. Tile unfortunate part of it is that the more interested and the more enthusiastic tiie visitor is, the more likely he i$ to be tlie cause of damage : he gets excited, and in his enthusiasm over one object he is very liable to step back into or knock agnimt anotiiiT. Even if no actual damage is caused, the passage of large parties of visitors through the 146 Visitors and the Press tomb stirs up the dust, and that in itself b bad for the objeets. That is the first and obvious danger. The second, due to the loss of actual trorking time tliat visitors cause, is not so immediately apparent, but it is in some ways even more serious, lliis will seem a terribly exaggerated view to Uie individual visitor, who will wonder wliat difference the half-hour that be or she consumed eonld make to the w'liole season^a work. Perfectly true, so far as that particular half- hour is ooncemed, but what of tlie other nine visitors* or groups of visitors, who come on tlie same day ? By strict arithmetic he and they have occupied five hours of our working day ; In actual fact, it is con* siderably more than five, for in tlie short iutervak between visitors it is impossible to settle down to any serious piece of work. To all intents and pur¬ poses a complete day has been lost. Now, there were many days last season in wliich we actually did have ten parties of visitors, and if we had gii'en way to every demand, and a^'o^dcd any possibility of giving offence, there would not Iiavc been a day in whidi wc did not far exceed tlie ten. In otlioV word.v, tliere would have been whole weeks at a time in which no work was done at all. it actually worked out last winter, we gave ^'isitors a quarter of our working season. This resulted in our having to prolong our work into the hot weather a wiiole month longer thuji we bad intended, and the heat of The ^■alley in May is not a thing to look forward to witli equanimity, and is an}'thing but indudvc to good work. Til ere was much more at stake, however, tUaii our own personal inconvenience: there wa.s actual H7 The Tomb of TuPankhAmen danger for the objects themselves, Ddicaie antl- quitlca arc extremely sensitive to any diange of temperature, and have to be watched most carefully. In the present ease the cliatige &om the close atmo¬ sphere of the Autechambet to the variable tempera¬ ture outside, and the dry airiness of the tomb we used as a laboratory, was a very appreciable one, and certain of the objects were aficeted by it. It was extremely important that preservatives should be applied at tlic very first possible moment, and in some coses there was need of experimental treat¬ ment whidi had to be watched very carefully. Tlie danger of constant interruption is obvious, and 1 need not labour the point. VYliat would a chemist think if you asked him to break off a ddicate cneperi- ment to show you round his laboratory f Wiat W'uuld be the feelings of a surgeon if you interrupted him in tlic middle of an operation ? And wliat about the patient ? For the matter of that, what would a business man say — wiiat wouldn’t he say if he had a succession of ten parties of \'isitot5 in the course of the morning, each expecting to be shown all over the office ? Yet, surely, tlie claims of arehBcology for consider- atton arc just as great as tliase of any other form of scientific research, or e\’en — dare I say it? — of that of tlie sacred science of money-making itself. Wiy, because we carry on our work in unfrequented regions instead of in a crowded city, are wc to be considered churlish for objecting to constant inter¬ ruptions ? I suppose the reason really is tlmt in popular opinion archfeology is not work at all. Ex¬ cavation is a sort of super-tourist amuscnicnt, carried out witli the excavator’s own money if he is rich m3 aJNVijy OK ANTlOrrJ Jiyi ■((> 'lUE LAROItATrtRV. VwiVory and the Press eaovigh, or with other peopled money if he can per¬ suade tliem to subscribe it, and dl he lias lo do is to enjoy life io a beautiful winter climate and pay a gaug of natives to find things for him. It is the dilettante archseologist, the man who rarely does any work ^vith his own hands^ but as often as not is absent vrhen the actual discovery is made, who is largely responsible for this opinion. The serious excavator's life is frequently monotonous and, as I Itope to show in the next cliapter, quite as hard¬ working as that of any other member of society. I have written more than I intended on this sub¬ ject, but really it is a very serious matter for us. We hai'e an opportunity in Uiis tomb such as no archa^ologists ever liad before, but if we are to take full advantage of it — and failure to do so will earn for us the just execration of every future generation of archieologists — it is absolutely essential that we be left to cany on the work without interruption. It is not as if our visitors were all keen on arch«ology, or even mildly interested in it. Too many of them arc attracted by mere curiosity, or, e^^en worse, by a desire to visit the tontb b^use it is the thing to do. They want to be able to talk at large about it to their friends at home, or crow over less fortunate tourists who have not managed to secure an intro¬ duction themselves. Can you imagine anything more maddening, when you are completely alxsorb^ in a dilhcult problem, tlmn to give up half an hour of your precious time to a v'isitor who has pulled every conceivable kind of wire to gain admittance, and then to hear him say quite audibly as he goes away : “ Well, U(CTc wasn't much to see, after all ” ? That actually happened last winter — and more than once. 149 The Tomb of Tut-ankhAmen la the comiag season there Trill in any case be much less for visitors to see. It wll be absolutely impossible to get into the burial chamber* for every available indi of space will Ije occupied by scalfold* ing, and the removal of the shrine* section by section* ■will be mnclt too ticklish an operation to admit of interruptions. In the laboratory we propose to deal with only one object at a time* which will be packed and got rid of as soon as we iiavc flnislicd w'ith it. Six cases of objects from fclie tomb are already on exhibition in the Cairo Ilfuscum, and we would earnestly beg visitors to Egypt to content them¬ selves with these* and with w’hat they can see from tJie outside of the tomb* and not to set tlieir hearts on getting into the tomb itself. Those who are genuinely interested in arch ecology for its oum sake will be tlie flrst to realisse that the request is a reason¬ able one. Hie otliers, the idly eurioxis, who look on the tomb as a side-show* and Tiit'ankh'Amen as a mere topic of conversation* have no rights in the matter, and need no consideration* WTiatcvcr our discoveries next season may be, we trust that we may be allowed to deal wiUi them in a proper and dignified manner. CHAPTER X Work iisf the Labokatory TlHS^cImpter is dedicatc^I to those — and they are many — who think that an exca viator spends his time basking in the sun, pleasantly ex- hilaiated by watching otlicr people work for hini« and otherwise relieved from boredom by having baskets full of beautiful antiquities brought up from the bowels of the earth from time to time for him to look at. His actual life Is very different^ and. os there can be but few who know Uie details of it» it xTill be worth our while to give a generat outline here before going into the question of the kboratoiy work of tiic past season. Inctdentally, it will help to explain why this earcful laboratory work w'as necessary. In tlie first place, it must be clearly understood that there is never any question of having liaaket- futs of objects brought to the excavator for him to look at ; the first and most important rule in excavating is tliat tlie arcJiteologist must remove every antiquity from tiie ground with liis own hands. So much depends uprjn it. Quite apart from the question of possible damage that might be caused by clumsy fingers, it is very essential that you see the object in wVu, to gain any evidence you can from the position in which it lies, and the relationship it bears to objects near it. For example, there may very Itkdy be dating evidence. How many '5* Tile Tomb of Tut'ankhAmen pieces there arc in musieiims with vague “probably Aiiddle Kingdom kind of labels, which, by refer¬ ence to the objects with whidi they were found, might easily have been assigned accurately to the Dynasty to wldcli they belonged, or even to the reign of some particular king. There will, again, be evidence of arrangement to be secured, evidence that may show tlie use for whidi some particular object was made, or give the detaib for its ultimate reconstruction. Take, for instance, tlie tiny fragments of serrated flint wducl) are found in sudi enormous quantities in town sites of the Middle Kingdom. We can guess their use, and with the label ** sickle flints ” they make not uninteresting museum material. Now And, as I ha^'c done, a complete sickle lying in tlie ground, its ivoodcn parts in such condition that a touch will destroy the evidence of its ever liaving been a sickle at all. Two courses are open to you. By csrefid handling and the use of preser^’atives you may be able to get your sickle out of the ground intact, or, if it is too far gone for tliat, you can at least take the measurements and not^ that will enable you to construct the wood anew. In either case you get a complete museum object, worth, arcliaro- logicalty, a tliousand times more than the handful of disconnected pieces of flint that you would other* ivise hai'e secured, Tliis is a simple illuBtratioii of tlie imjKirtancc of field e’^'idenee : we shall have other and more striking instances to record when we eome to deal with the different classes of material. One other matter before we pass on. By noting the exact position of an object, or grouj) of object^ you can not mbrequently secure evidence that will fVork in the Laboratory enable yon to make a find of similar objects else¬ where. Foundation deposits are a ease m point. In every construction the arrangement of the deposits followed a regular system, and. having found one, it js a simple matter to put your finger upon the others. An excavator, then, must see every object in position, must make careful notes before it is moved, and, if necessary, must apply preservative treatment on the spot. Obviously, under these conditions it 13 all-important for you to keep in dose touch witli your excavations. Holiday trips and days off arc out of the question. While the work is actually nmning you must be on the spot aU day, and avail- able at all hours of the day. Your workmen must know where to find you at any given moment, and must have a perfectly clear understanding that the news of a discovery must be passed on to you without any delay. In the case of an important discovery you will probably know something has happened before you actually get the report, for— in Egypt particularly— the news will have spread almost instantaneously, and have had a curious psychological effect mxin your entire gang of workmen. They will be working tUflcrently, not nect?ssaiily harder, but differentlv and mudi more silently. Tlic ordinary work-sonra will have ceased. A smaller discovery you will frequently sense in advance from the behaviour of the man who brings the message. Nothing would induce him to come straight to you and tell you op^y Wl«t he has found. At aJl sorts he must make a mj-stciy of it. so he hovere about in a thoroughly self-conscioua manner, thereby adver- >S3 T/te Tomb of Tut-ankh^Amen tisiDg to the world at large exactly ivhat has hap- penedt and eventually makes liinist^ still mote con¬ spicuous by beckoniug' you aside and whispering his news. Even then it will be diflicult to get any but the vaguest of reports out of him, and it will prob¬ ably not be until you have reached the actual spot that you find out exactly what has been found. This is due largely to an Egyptian's love of mystery for its own sake. The same man will tell his friends all about the find on the first opportunity, but it is part of the game to protend that they must know notliing about it at Uie time. Partly, too, to excite¬ ment* Not U>at he takes any real interest in the objects themselves, but because he looks on them in the light of a gamble. Most excavators work on what is known as the baksheesh system ; that Is to say, they pay their workmen rewards, over and above their wages, for anything they find. It is not an ideal arrangement, but it has two advantages: it helps to ensure the safety of the objecte, par¬ ticularly the small, easily concealed ones, whidi may be most valuable to you for dating purposes ; and it makes the men keener about their work, anil more careful about Uie manner in which they ca^ it out, the reward being more for tlie safe handling than for tlic value of tlie object. For these, and for many other reasons which we could mention, it is atl-important for you to fc^p close to 3'our work, and, even if nothing is being found at the moment, you will not have niudi time to be idle. To begin with, every tomb, every build¬ ing, every broken wall e\'fn, must be noted, and if you arc dealing witli pit-tombs this may involve considerable gymnasLie exercise. The pits may range Work in the Laboratory anywhere from ten to a hundred and twenty feet in depth, and I calcutated once that in the course of a single season I hack climbed, hand over hand, up half a mile of rope. Tlien tliere is photography. Every object of any arcbssologlcal ^‘Alue mnst be photographed before it is moved, and in many cases a series of exposures must be made to mark the various stages in the clearing. Many of these photo graphs will never be used, but you can never teU but that some question may arise, whereby a seem' ingly useless negative may become a record of the utmost value. Photography is absolutely essen¬ tial on every side, and it is perhaps the most exacting of all the duties that an cxcav'ator has to face. On a particular piece of work 1 liave taken and developed as man}’' as fifty negatives in a single day. Whenever possible, these particular branches of the work — surveying and photography — should be in the hands of separate experts. The man in clisrge will then have time to devote himself to what we may call the finer points of excavation, lie will be able to play w’ith his work, as a brotiier digger expressed it. In every excavation puzrJes and prob- Ictus constantly present themselves, and it is only by going constantly over the ground, looking at it from every point of view, and senitinizing it in every kind of light, that you will be able to arrive at a solution of some of these problems. The meaning of a complex of walls, the evidence of reconstruction of a building, or of a change in plan on the part of the original architect, the significance of a change of level, where the remains of a later period liavc been superimposed upon those of an earlier one, tlic purport of some peculiarity in the surface debris, ■55 The Tomb of TuPankk*Amen or in the stratihcstioD of a mound— these and a score of others are the questions that an eaccavator has to face, and it is upon his obiUty to answer them that be will stand or fall as an archseologiBt. Then, again, if be is freed from the labour of iUTvey and photography, he will be able to devote more time and thought to the general organization of the work, and by that means to effect considerable economies both in time and money. Many a hun¬ dred pounds has been wasted by lack of system, and many an excavator has had to clear away his own dumps because he failed m the hist instance to exercise a little forethought. The quesdon of the distribution of the workmen is one that needs careful attention, and great wastage of labour can be avoided by moving men around from one place to anotlier exactly when and where they are wanted, and never leaving more on a particular section of the work than are actually needed to keep it running smoothly. The number of labourers that an excavator can keep up with single-handed will depend oatumily on the conditions of the work. On a big and more or less unproductive undertaking, such os pyramid clearing, he ean look after an almost indefuiite number. On rock-cut tombs he can perhaps keep pace with Oft)- ; whereas on shallow graves — a pre- dynastic cemetery, for example— ten will keep him uncomfortably busy. The number of men who can be employed is also largely dependent on the type of site and formation of the locality of tlte excavation. So much for the outdoor duties, the actual con¬ duct of his excavations. Tlierc arc plenty of other jobs to be done, and his off hours and evenings will be very fully occupied if he is to keep on tcmis 1S6 Work in the Laboratory vnth his work. TTis notes, his running plans, and the registration^f the objects must be kept thoroughly up to date. There are the photograplis to be developed, prints to be made, and a register kept, both of negatives and prints. There will be broken objects to^be mended, objects in delicate condition to be treated, restorations to be considered, and bead-work to be re-threaded. Tlicn comes the indoor photography, for €sach mdi vidua) object must be photographed to scale, and in some cases from several points of view. The list could be extended almost indefinitciy, and would inelude a number of jobs that would seem to have but a remote con¬ nexion with ardiffiology, such as account-keeping, doctoring the men, and settling their disputes. The workmen naturally have one day a week off, and the excavator will very likely begin the season with the idea that he too wilt take a weekly holiday. He will usually lie obliged to abandon tlte idea after the fust week, for he wiU find in this oN day too good an opportunity to waste of catching up with the hundred and one jobs that have got ahead of him. Such, in broad outline, is the life of the excavator. Tliere are certain details of his work, more particu¬ larly those which liave to do with note-taking and (irst-aid preservation of the different classes of objects, which we should like to dwell on at some¬ what greater tengtii. Ttiese are subjects which the ordinary ^reader will probably know little about, and they will be well illustrated in our description of the laboratory work of tiie past season. Woodwork, for instance, is seldom in good con¬ dition and presents many problems. Damp and the *57 The Tomb of Tut'ankh*Amen white aut are its cliief fues, and in unfavourabie conditions nothing will be left of the wood but a heap of hlaek dust, or a shell which cruinblra at tlie touch. In the one cose an entry in your notes to the effect that wood has been present is the roost that you can do, but in the other there will generally be a certain amount of information to be gleaned. Measureznents can certainly be secured ; and the painted remains of on insenption, which may give you the name of the owner of the object, and which a single breath of wind or touch of the surface would be suffieieiit to efface;, can be copied, if taken in hand without delay. Again, there will be cases in which the wooden &ainc or core of an object has decayed away, leaving scattered remains of the decoration — ivory, gold, faience, or what not — which originally covered its surface. By careful notes of the exact relative positions of tliis fallen decoration, supple* mented by a subsequent dtting and piecing together, it will often be possible to work out the exact size and sliapc of the object. Then, by applying tlie original decoration to a new wooden core, you will have, instead of a mtsceHancous collection of ivory, gold and faience fragments, useless for any purpose, an object which for all practical purposes is as good as new. Preservation of wood, unless it be in the very last stage of decay, is always possible by applica¬ tion of melted paraiBn w’ax ; by this means an object, w’hich otherwise would have fallen to pieces, can be rendered perfectly solid and fit to handle. The condition of wcmhI nahirally varies according to the site, and, fortunately for us, Luxor is in this respect perhaps the most favourable site in tlie >vlioIc of Egypt, We had trouble with the wood from the 15S Work in the Laboratory present tomb, but it arose, not from the condition in wjiich we originally founfl it, but from subsequent sitrinkage owing to change of atmosphere* This in an object of plain wood is not such a serious matter, but the Egyptians were extremely fond of applying a thin layer of gesso, on which prepared surface they painted scenes or made use of an overlay of gold foil. Naturally, as the wood shrank the gesso cover^ ing began to loosen up and buckle, and there was eonsklcrable danger that large parts of the surface might be lost. The problem is a didieult one. It is a perfectly easy matter to fix paint or gold foil to the gesso, but ordinary preservatives will not fix gesso to the wood. Here again, as we shall show, we had recourse eventually to papaffin wax. The condition of textiles varies. Cloth in some cases is so strong that it might have come fresh from the loom, whereas in others it has been reduced by damp almost to the consistency of soot. In tl^e present totid> the difficulty of handling it was con¬ siderably increased, both by the rough usage to which it had been subjected, and by the fact that so many of the garments were covered with a decoration of gold rosettes and bead- work. Head-work is in itself a complicated problem, and will perlmps tax an excavator’s patience more than any other material with wliich he has to deal. There is so much of it. The Egyi^tians were pa<»ionateiy fond of beads, and it is by no means exceptional to find upon a single mummy an equipment consisting of a number of necklaces, two or three collars, a girdle or two. and a full set of bracelets and anklets. In such a ease many thousands of beads will have been employed. Therein lies the test of patience, >S9 The Tomb of Tut’ankh* Arnett for in tJie recovery and restoration of this head- work every single head will have to be Ivandled at least twice. Very careful work will he necessary to secure the origiiml arrangement of the heads. Tlie threads that held tliem together will all have rotted away, hut neik'crthdcss they will Ije lying for the most part ia their correct relative positions, and by carefuUy blow'mg away the dust it may be possible to follow tlic whole length of necklace or collar, and secure the exact order of the beads, Re-threading may be done in aitu os each section is laid bare — on a many-stringed girdle I once Imd twelve needles and thread going simultaneously — or, better still, the beads may be transferred one by one to a piece of cardboard on which a thin layer of plasticine has been spread* This has the advantage that gaps of the re<iuired length ean be left for missing or doubt¬ fully placed beads. In very elaborate objects, where it is not possible to tlircad the beads as they arc found, careful notes must be made, the re-stringing being done later, not in exact order, bead for bead, but in accordance witli the oripnal pattern and design. A tedious business this re-stringing will be, and a good deal of experimental work will probably be necessary b^ore you arrive at the correct method of dealing with the particular problem* In a collar, for example, it may be necessary to have three independent thread* ing stringy to every bead, if the rows ore to lie smoothly In place* Bestoration^O'f missing or broken jmrts will sometimes be necessary if a reconstruction is to be dfected, I once found a set of bracelets and anklets in which the rows of beads had been separated by perforated bars of wood covered with ti» Work in the Laboratory gold foil. Tile wood of which these separators was composed had entirely gone, leaving the gold foil shells ; so I cut new pieces of wood to the shape, burnt out perforation holes with a red-hot needle^ and covered the new bars with the original gold. Such restorations, based on actual ev-idenee, arc perfectly legitimate, and well worth the trouble. You will liave secured for your museum, in place of a trayful of meaningless beads, or, worse stillt a purely arbitrary and fanciful reconstruction, an object, attractive in itself, which has very consider¬ able archseological value. Papyrus is frequently difficult to handle, and in its treatment more crimes have been conuiiitted than in any other branch of atchffiology. If in fairly sound condition it should be wrapped in a damp doth for a few hours, and then it can easily lie straightened out under glass. Rolls that are tom and brittle, sure to separate into a number of small pieces durmg the process of unwrapping, should never he tackled unless you have plenty of time an<l space at your disposal. Careful and systematic work will ensure the correct spacing of almost all the frag¬ ment, whereas a desultory sorting, carried out in the intervals of other w’ork, and perhaps by various hands, will never achieve a satbfactory result, and may end in the destruetton of much valuable evi¬ dence. If only the Turin papyrus, for instatice, had received careful treatment when it was Jirst found, what a wealth of information it would have given us, and what heart-burnings we should have been saved I Stone, as a rule, presents few difficulties in the field. Limestone will certainly contain salt, which The Tomb of Tut'ankluAmen niusb be soaked out of it, but this is a problem that caD be taken in hand later in the museum, and need not detain us here. In the same way faience, pottery, and metal objects can usually be left for inter treat* ment. We are only concerned here with work that must be carried out on the spot. Intuited and copious notes should be taken at every stage of tliis preliminary work. It is dilBcuJfc to take too many, for, though a thing may be per¬ fectly dear to you at the moment, it by no means follows that it will be when the time comes ffir you to work over your material. In tomb -work as many notes as possible should be made while everything is still in position. Then, when you begin clearing, card and pencil should be kept handy, and every fresli item of evidence should noted imniediatdy you run across it. You are tempted so often to put off making the note until you Imve finished the actual piece of work on which you are engaged, but It is dangerous. Something will intervene, and as likely as not that particular note will nev'or be made at all. Now let us move to tJie laboratory, and put into practice some of the theories tliat we have been elaborating. It will be remembered that it was the tomb of Seti II (No. 13 in the Wilkinson catalogue of tomb numbers) that had been selected for us, and here wc hod established oursdves with our note-cards and our preservatives. TJie tomb was long and narrow, so that only the first bay could be used for practical work, Uie inner darker part being servieeab’e merely as storage space. As the objects Tvere brought in tl»ey were deposited, still in their stretchers, in the middle section, and co'vered up 163 Work in the Laboratory \uitil they should be wanted. ICacli m turn was brought up to the working bay for cxaminiition. There, after the surface dust had been cleared off, measurements, eomptete arciifeologica) notes, and copies of inscriptions were entered on the hiing cards. Tiic necessary' mending and preserv^ativc treatment followed, after which it was taken just outside the entrance for scale photographs to be made. Finaily, having passed tiirough all these stages, the object was stored away in the iniiemiost recesses of the tomb to await the final packing. In the majority of eases no attempt at hnal treatment was made. It was mtmifestly impossible, for months, probably years, of reconstructive work are necessary if full use is to be made of the matmal. All we could do here was to apply prelinunary treat¬ ment, sufficient in any event to enable the object to support a journey in safety. Final restorations must be made in the museum, and they wrill need a far more fully cqtuppcd lalmratory and a much larger staff of skilled helpers than wc could ever hope to achieve in The Valley, As tlie season advanced, and the laboratory grew more and more crowded, it became increasingly diffi¬ cult to keep track of the vrork, and it was only by close attention to detail, and strict adherence to a verj" definite order of procedure, that we managed to keep clear of complications- As each object arrived its registration number was noted in au entry book, and in the same book a record was kept of the successive stages of its treatment. Each of the primary objects had been given its own registration number in tlie tomb, but as these were worked over in the laboratory an elaborate system 163 The Tomb of TuPankh^Amen of $ub-nunibcniig became necessary, A box, for instance, might contain fifty objects, any one of whidi must be dearly ideniibabie at all Umca, and these we distinguished by letters of the alphabet, or, where necessarj% by a combination of letters. Constant care was necessary to keep these smaller objects from being sejmrated from their tdenUftea’^ tion tickets, especially in cases where protracted treatment was required. Not infrequently it hap¬ pened that the component parts of a single object, scattered in the tomb, were entered under two or more nunabers, and in this case cross-references in the notes were necessary. Note-cards, as completed, were filed away in cabinets, and in these filing cabinets we bad, by the end of tlie season, a complete history of every object from the tomb, including : — (1) Measurements, scale drawings, and archseO' logical notes. (2) Notes on the imcrlptions by Dr, Alan Gardiner. (S) Notes by Mr. Lucas on the preservative treatment employed. (4) A photograph, showing the position of the object in Uic tomb. (5) A scale photograph, or scries of photographs. of the object itself. (0) In the cose of boxes, a scries of views, show¬ ing the different stages in the clearing. So much for our si'stem of w'ork. Let us turn now to tiie individuof treatment of a selected number of the antiquities. The first that required treat¬ ment in tile laboratory was the wonderful painted casket (No. 21 in our register), and, if we had searched *44 1Y4TE XX\]\ i*AlMEIi clASKl-X Nu, 21. s«nr« I^liowin]! ih^ hnpirkiiiK. Fir^t l«r anil ti>«unil In) Plisr*^ Work in the Laboratory the whole tomb through, we ^Itould have been hard put to it to find a single object that presented a greater number of problems. For tliis reason it will be worth our white to ^ve a detailed description of its treatment. Our first care was for the castet itself, which W'as coated with gesso, and covered from top to bottom with brilliantly painted scenes. Witli the exception of a slight widening of the joints owing to shrinkage, the wood was in perfect con^ dition ; the gesso had chipped a little at the comers and along the cracks, but was stUl. in a reasonably firm state, and the paint, thougli a little discoloured in places, ^VB3 perfectly fast and showed no signs of rubbing. It seemed as though but little treat' ment was necessary. The surface dust was removed, the discoloration of the painted surfaces was reduced ^vith benzine, and the whole exterior of the casket was sprayed with a solution of celluloid in amyl- acetate to fix the gesso to the wood, particular atten¬ tion being paid to tender places at the cracks. At the moment this seemed to be all that was required, hut it was our first experience of the wood and gesso combination from the tomb, and we were to be dis¬ illusioned. Three or four weeks later we noticed that the joint cracks were getting wider, and that the gesso in other places was showing a tendenc>* to buckle. It was clear enough what was happen¬ ing. Owing to the change of temperature from the close, hunvid atmosphere of the tomb to tiie dry airiness of the taboratoiy, the wood had begun to shrink once more, and tlic g^o, not being able to follow it, was coming away from the wood alto? gethcT. The position was serious, for we were in danger of losing large parts of the painted surface. 165 'The Tomb of Tut'ankk'Amcfi ^astic measures were necessary, and after much discussion ive decided on the use of melted paraffin wax. Courage was needed to take the step, but we were thoroughly justified by the result, for tile wax penetrated the materials and held everything firm and, so far from the colours being affected, as we had f^ed, it seemed to make them more brilliant than before. VVe used this process later on a number of other objects of wood and gesso, and found it extremely satisfactory. It is important that the ^rfacc should be heated, and that the wax should be brought as near to boiling-point as possible; otlierwise it will cfiill and refuse to penetrate. Fail¬ ing an oven we found tlie Egj'ptian sun quite hot OTfiugli for the purpose. Surplus w‘ax can be removed by the application of Jieat, or by the use of ben¬ zine. There is pother advantage in the process, m that blisters in the gesso can be pressed down into place again while the wax is still warm, and Will hold quite firniJj'. In very bad eases it niav be necessary to fill the blister in from behind by means of hot wax applied by a pipette. So much for the outside of the casket. Now let ns remove the ltd and sec what the inside has in store for us. This is an exciting moment, for there are beautiful tilings ev"er>T\'hcTc, and, thanks to the hurried re-packing carried out by the officials, there IS nothing to forewarn one as to what the contents of any individual box may be. In this particular case, by reference to the four views on Plates XXXIV and reader can himself follow the successive stages m the clearing, and it will give him some idea of tlie difficulty of handling the material if 1 explain that it took me three weeks of liard w'ork to get 166 I» VXXV I'AINTKIJ (l.VSKflT, :L iJit Hii}ji3rhmg, Tlijril HI nmJ fiHtrth (P> utago. Work in the Laboratory to the bottom of the box. The first photograph was taken inunediately after tlic lid liad been re¬ moved, and before anyUiing was touched. On the right Utere k a pair of rush and papyrus sandals, in perfect condition ; below them, jnst sho^ving, a gilt head-rest, and, lower again, a confused mass of ctoili, leatlicr, and gold, of which w'c can make noUting as yet. On the left, crumpled into a bundle, there is a magnificent royal robe, and in the upper comer there arc roughly shaped beads of dark resin. The robe it was that presented us with oiir first problem, a problem that was constantly to recur — - how' best to handle cloth that crumbled at the touch, and yet was covered w'ith elaborate and heavy decoration. In this particular ease Uie whole sur¬ face of the robe is coveicd with a network of faience heads, with a gold sequin filling in every alternate square in the net. These — heads and sequins — had originally been sewn to the cloth, but are now loose. A great many of thenj are upside down, tlie releasing of the tension when Uie thread snapped having evidently caused them to spring. At Uie borders of the robe — they are underneath, and do not show in the photograph — there are bands of tiny glass beads of various colours, arranged in patterns. The upper layer of cloth was very decep¬ tive in appearance. It looked reasonably solid, but if one tried to lift it, it fell to pieces in one’s band Below, where it Iiad been In contact with other things, the condition was much w'orse. This question of cloth luid its treatment was enommust}' complicatwl for us in the present tomb by Uie rough usage to which it had been subjecccd. Had it been spread out flat, or neatly folded, it 167 The Tomb of Tut’ankh'Amen would have been a comparatively simple matter to deal with it. We should, as a matter of fact, have bad an easier task if it had been allowed to remain strewn about the floor of the chamber, as the plunderers had left it. Nothing could have been worse for our purposes than the treatment it had undergone in the tidying-up process, in which the various garments had been crushed, bundled and interfolded, and packed tightly into boxes with a mixture of other and, in some cases, most incon¬ gruous objects. In the case of this present robe it would have been perfectly simple to solidify the whole of the upper layer and remove it in one piece, but this was a process to which there were serious objec- tums. It involved, firstly, a certain amount of danger to whatever might lie beneath, for in the unpacking of these boxes we had to be continually on our guard lest, in our enthusiasm over the treatment or removal of an object, we might inflict damage on a still more valuable one which lay under it* Then, again. If we made the upper part of the robe solid, we should seriously have reduced the chances of extracting evidence as to aize and shape, to say nothing of the details of ornamentation. In dealing with all these robes there were two alteinatives before us. Something had to be sacrificed, and wc had to make up our minds whether it should be the cloth or the decoration. It would have been quite possible, by the use of preservatives, to secure large piec^ of the cloth, but, in the process, we should inevitably have disarranged and damaged the bead ornamentation that lay below* On the other hand, by aacrificing the doth, picking it carefully away i60 til Thi- iMirkli* of tafuUf ^IIJ [It I'lqlickt'Ltl^i ^uh| tinri. (l.l Tllf^ ftiincUl, •nfilJi lor-lhpiipt pr opi'n-work J'f.An' fci The Alippi^r of IrothiT. with ilrmratlnii uf ^iiliL xxxvi THE Ktxt;s LOUm SAMSAL AMl I Work m the Laboratory piece by piece, we could recover, as a rule, the whole sclicme of decoration. This was the plan we usually adopted. Ijiter, in the museum, it will be p<i5sible to make a new garment of the exact size, to which Uie original ornamentation — bead-work, gold sequins, or wSiatever it may be--can be applied. Restorations of Uiis kind will be far more useful, and have a much greater archeological value, than a few irregu¬ larly shaped pieces of preserved cloth and a eohection of loose beads and sequins. The size of the robe from this casket can be worked out with reasonable accuracy from the oma- nientation. At tiie lower hem there was a band, composed of tiny beads arranged in a pattern, a pattern of which we were able to secure the exact details. From this band there liung, at equal inter- v^ols, a series of bead strings with a large pendant at the end of each stringa liVe can thus calculate the circumference of the hem by multiplying tlie space between tlie strings by the number of pendants. That gives us the width of the robe. Now we can calculate the total area of decoration from the num¬ ber of gold sequins employed, and, if we divide tliis total area by our known circumference at the bottom, we sliall nmve at a fairly accurate approxitnation of the height. This naturally presupposes that our robe is the same widtli tliroughout, a method of cutting borne out by a number of undecomted garments of which we W'cre able to secure tlie exact measurements. This has been a long digression, but it was neces¬ sary, to sJiow the nature of the problem with wliicli we had to deaL \Vc can return to the casket iiow» and really begin to explore its contents. First of n ,69 The Tomb of TuPankk’Amen all we removed the rush sandals^ which were In beau'^ tifuUy firm conditicoif and presented no dillieulties (Plate XXXTV'", b). Next came the gilt head-rest, and then, very carefully, we removed the robe. One large portion of its tipper surface we managed to take out whole by tlie aid of a celluloid solution, and short lengths of the band decorations of small beads w'c preserved in wax for future reference. Tlie third photograph (Plate XXX c) shows what we may call the second layer of the casket’s contents. Here, to begin with, were tiiree pairs of sandals, or rather, to be accurate, two pairs of sandals and a pair of looee slip¬ pers. These were of leather^ elaborately decorated with gold, and of wonderful workmanship (two of them are shown on Plate XXXVI). Unfortunately, their condition left much to be desired. They liad suffer edL from their packing in the first place, but, worse than that, some of the leather had melted and run, gluing the sandals together and fastening them to other objects, making their extraction from the box a matter of extreme difficulty. So much of the leather had perished that the question of restoration became a serious prohlem. We secured the gold omamenta' tion that still remained in place with a solution of Canada balsam, and strengthened them generally as far as we could, but eventually it will probably be better to make new sandals and apply the old decoration to them. Beneath the sandals there was a mass of decayed cloth, much of it of the consistency of soot, thickly spangled throughout with rosettes and sequins of gold and silver. This, sad to relate, represents a number of royal robes. The difficulty of trying to extract any inteliigible record from it can be imag- 170 Vien-’ d| inlcrior iCfthcrcd partH of Cdnlrl jn^klijiit oii FjiittiiLu LiIiaiI^mi Vui-e*, Work in tfie Laboratory incd, but a. certain amount of assistance was given by the differences in the sizes and shapes of the sequins. Tlxere were at ieast seven distinct gar¬ ments. One was an imitation Icopard-skin cloak in cloth, with gilt head, and spots and claws of silver (see last photograph of the series, Plate XXXV, dJ ; while two of the others were head-drreses, made in the semblance of hawks with outstretched wings, of the type shown in Plate LXXVHL Bundled in witli the actual garments there were a number of otJier objects— two faience collarettes of beads and pendants, two caps or hags of tiny bead- work which had almost entirely fallen to pieces, a W'ooden teg i^bed in hieratic “Papyrus (?) sandals of His Majesty, * a glove of plain linen, an archer’s gauntlet, tapestry woven in coloured thread, a double necklace of large flat faience beads Plate XXXV. d), and a number of linen belts or scarves. Below the gar¬ ments there was a layer of rolls and pads of cloth some of which were Join-cloths and others mere bandages ; and below these again, resting on fhe bottom of the box, there were two boards, perforated at one end for Imngtng. whose purpose is still doubtful. With very few exceptions— the rush sandals arc a case in point— the garments it contained were those of a child. Our first idea was that the king might have kept stored away the clothes he wore es a boy ; but later, on one of the belts, and on the sequins of tme of the robes, we found the royal cartoudie. He must, then, have worn Uicm after he tweame king, from which it would seem to follow that he was quite a young Imy when he succeeded to the throne. AnotJjer interesting pieec of evidence in this connexion is supplied by the fact that on *7* Tfie Tomb of Tut‘ankh’Amen the lid of one of the other boxes there is a docket which reads, The King's aide-lock (?) ns a boy." The question raises an interesting Mstorical point, and wc shall be eager to see, when the time comes, the evidence of age that the miinimy will supply. Certainly, whenever the king appears upon the tomb furniture, he is represented as little more tlian a youth. One otlicT point with regard to the robes found in this and other boxes. Many of them are decorated with patterns in coloured linen threads. Some of tliese are examples of tapestry weaving, simitar to the fragments found in the tomb of Thothmes IV,* but there were also undoubted cases of applied needlework. The material from this tomb will be of extreme importance to the history of textile art, and it needs very careful study. We shall not have space here to describe tlie unpacking of the other boxes, but all were m tiie same jumbled state, and all had the same queer mixture of incongruous objects. Many of them con- tained from lifty to sixty individual pieces, each re¬ quiring its own registration card, and tlicre was never any lack of excitement in the unpacking, for you never knew when you might not happen upon a magnificent gold scarab, a statuette, or a beautiful piece of jewellery. It was slow work, naturally, for hours at a time had to be spent working out with brush and bellows the exact order and arrangement of collar, necklace, or gold decoration, covered, as tliey ordinarily were, with the dust of decayed cloth. The collars were a frequent source of trouble. 'CPTter ult Nc-MbcitTi r<vnf TAoubnMlj IV. Plk. I wiJ XXV It I. Noi. 46Sa6-4SS2{l. 7* x\x\ m RECIJNSTRULTIDN of fJORSLET, Work in the Laboratory AVe found eight in all, of the Tell el Amama leaf and flower type, <md it needed great care and pfttjpriee to work out the exact arrangement of the different tyj^ of pendants. One of these is shown on Plate XXXIX, laid out loosely on ground gloss to be photographed. They still need quite a lot of treat- m^t to bring them back to their original colours, and tliere iviii have to be a certain amount of restora¬ tion of the broken and missing parts before they arc ready for tlic fiaal re-stringing. In one case we were lucky, for an elaborate three-string neck¬ lace, witli a gilt pectoral at one end and a scarab- pendant at the other, lay flat upon the bottom of a box, so that we were able to remove it bead by bead, and re-string it on tiie spot in its exact original order (Plate XL). The most elaborate piece of reconstruction that we had to do was in connexion with tlic corslet, which has been referred to more than once, Tliis was a very elaborate affair, consisting of four separ¬ ate parts — the corslet proper, inlaid witli gold and carnelian, with border bands and braces of gold ^d coloured inlay ; a collar with con^'entional imitation of beads in gold, camclian, and green and blue faience ; and two magnificent pectorals of open¬ work gold with coloured inlay, one for the chest, the other to liang behind as make-weight. Corslets of this type are depicted commonly enough on the moDumente, and were evidently frequently worn, but we have never before been lucky enough to find a complete example. Unfortunately, the parte of it were sadly scattcTHl, and there were points in the recoi^truction of which we could not be absolutely certain. Most of it was found in Box 54, but, ^ The Tomb of TuPankhAmen we have already stated in Chapter VIT, there were also parts of it in the small gold shrine and in Boxes 101 and 115, and single pieces from it were found scattered on the floor of the Antechamber, passage, and staircase. It was interesting working out tt^e way in which it all flttcd together, and the photo- graplis on Plate XXXYIH show our tentative re- construction. In Plate XXXVII we see the collet proper as it lay ID Box 54, resting upon a number of faience Siba- tion vases. This gave us the pattern and arrangement, with its upper and lower bands of inlaid gold plaques, and we were also able to recover from it its exact height in two or tliree separate places, and the fact that it W'as not the same height all the way round. It showed us, besides, that the upper row' of the collar was Joined on to the gold plaque brace bands, and that the gold bars fitted at the shoulders to ilie top of the brace bands. The exact order of the collar was recovered from the parts found in the gold shrine. The pectorals were also in the gold shrine, lying beside the collar sections, and that Uicy actually fitted to the collar was proved by the curve of their upper edges. There were other gold bars in addition to those for the shoulders, and the per¬ forated tlircad^holes in these, corresponding exactly with the boles in the scales, showed that Uicy must have belonged to the corslet proper. These bars and the shoulder-bars alike were held together by sliding pins, to be adjusted after the corslet was in position. Our present reconstruction is purely a tentative one put together for photographic purposes, but the only really doubtful point in it is whether the gold bars fit to the front and back of the corslet, as tltcy are Plate XXX IX («l COLLAfC RESl'INn oN L!l> OK HOX >». 31, <(t) HKCOX^rmiflTlON HK THt tXlLLAlt. Work in the Laboratory hejre shown* or to its sides. The reason we h&ve placed them in this position is that the bars arc of different sizes, and by no combination b it possible to make the two equal lengths which the sides would require. The front and back of the corslet, on the otlier hand, "we know were of different lengths. There are still a number of pieces missing, and these we hope may still turn up in the innemiost chamber or in the Ajme:xe. The greater part of our winter’s work in the laboratory was concerned with the boxes, working out and sorting over their confused jumble of con¬ tents. The single, larger, objects were mudi easier to deal with. Some were in very good condition, requiring nothing but surface cleaning and noting, but there were others which needed a certain amount of attention, if only minor repairs to make them fit for transport. In all out mending we had con¬ stant recourse to our box of floor-sweepings, frag¬ ments recovered by sweeping up and sifting the last layer of dust from the floor both of the Antechamber and entrance passage, and not infrequently we found there the piece of inlay, or wliatever it might be, for which we were looking. The chariots we have not yet made any attempt to deal with. That must be done in Cairo later on, for tliey are in a great many sections, and their sorting and treatment will require very considerable working space — much more space than we can possibly arrange for in The Valley. As I explained earlier in the chapter, the restomtion and study of the material from this tomb will provide work for all of us for many vears to come. In the held, preliminary work is os much as we can hO'pe to do. The Tomb of Tiit*ankh‘Amen At tlic end of Uie season there came the qaestiou of packing, always an anxious business, but doubly so in this case owing to tlie enormous value of tlie material. Protection from dust as well as from actual damage was an important point, so every object was completely wapped in cotton- wool or cloth, or both, before it was placed in its box. Deli¬ cate surfaces, such as the parts of tlic tiirone, the legs of the chairs and beds, or the bows and staves, were swathed in narrow bandages, in case anytliing should work loose in transit. Very fragile objects, like the funerary bouquets and the sandals, ivhich would not bear ordinary packing, were laid in bran. Great care was taken to keep the antiquities in strictly classilied groups, textiles all in one box, jewellery all m anotiter, and so on. There may be a delay of a year or two before some of the boxes are un¬ packed, and it will be a great saving of time and labour if alt the objects of one type are in a single box. Eighty-nine boxes in all were packed, l>ut bo lessen the danger in transit tliesc were enclosed ivitliin tldrty-four hcaw packing-cases. Then came the question of transport. At the river bunk a steam barge was waiting, sent by tlie Department of Antiquities, but lietwecu Uie labora¬ tory and the river strctclicd a distance of hve and a half miles of rough road, with aw'kw'ard curves and dangerous gradients. Three (wssibilities of trans¬ port were open to us — camels, hand porterage and DiJcauville railway, and we decided on the Uiird as least likely to jar the cases. They were loaded, accordingly, on a number of flat curs, and by the evening of May IfJtii they w-cre ready to Ijcgin their journey down The V'alley, the road by w'hich they 176 Plate XL Ht>THVN'n IN ()KI<;LN\1. lUtlilJt Work in the Laboratory had passed, under such diifefcnt circumstances, three thousand years before. V At daybreak on the following irtoming tiie cars began to move. Now, when we talk of railway's the reader must not imagine that we had a line laid down for us all the way tO' the river, for a permanent way w'ouM take many montlrs to construct. We liad, on the ranttary, to lay it as we went, carrying the rails round m a continuous ebain as the cars moved forward. Fifty labourers were engaged in the work, an<l each had his particular job, pushing the cars, laying tlie rails, or bringing up the spare ones from bdiind. It sounds a tedious process, but it is wonder* ful how fast the ground can be covered. By ten o'clock on tlic tiioming of the loth — ^fifteen hours of actual wwk — the whole distance hail been accom* ptished, and the cases were safely stowed upon the barge. There were some an>i:[oii.s moments in the rough Vatley'-road, but nothing tmtoward happened, and tile fact tlmt the whole operation was carried out in such short time, an<) witliout any kind of mishap, is a Hue testimonial to the zeal of our work¬ men. 1 may add that the work was carried out under a scorching sun, with a shade temperature of considerably over a hundred, the metal rails under tliese conditions being almost too hot to touch. On the river journey the cases w’erc in charge of an escort of soldiers supplied by the Mudir of the Province, and after a seven-tiay journey all arrived safely in Cairo. There we unpacked a few of the more valuable objects, to be placed on immediate exhibition. The rest of the cases remain stored in the museum until such time as wc sliail be able to take in hand the question of fma] restorations. <77 CHAPTEH XI Tee Openino op the Sealed Doob By the middle of February our work in the Antechamber was Unished. With the excep¬ tion of the two sentinel statues, left for a special reason, all its contents had been removed to the laboratoty, every inch of its floor had been swept and sifted for the last bead or fallen piece of inJay, and it now stood bare and empty. We were ready at last to penetrate the mystery of the sealed door. Friday, the I7th, was the day appointed, and at two o’clock those who were to be privileged to witness the ceremony met by appointment above the tomb. They included Lord Carnarvon, Lady Evelyn Herbert, HJi. Abd el Halim Paslia Suleman, Minister of Public Works, M. Lacau, Director-General of the S^vtce of Antiquities, Sir William Goistin, Sir Charles Cust, Mr. Lythgoe, Curator of the Egyptian Department of the Metropolitan Museum, New York, Professor Breasted, Dr. Alan Gardiner, Mr. Winlock, the Hon. Mervyn Herbert, the Hon, Richard Betbell, Mr. Engelbach, Chief Inspector of the Department of Antiquities, three Egyptian inspectors of the Department of Antiquities, the representative of the Government Press Bureau, and the members of the staff^ — about twenty persons in all. By a quarter past two the whole company had assembled, so wc removed our coats and filed down the sloping passage into the tomb. 178 SEJJTJNEL MCUltES CUAtJUtNC ‘niE SKALKI) DiUJUWAY TW THE SEI’ULaiHAL CHAMBER, The Opening of the Sealed Door In the Antechamber everything was prepared and ready, and to those who had not visited it since the original opening of the tomb it must have pre¬ sented a strange sight* We had screened the statues with boarding to protect them from possible damage, and between them we had erected a small pJat- form, just lilgb enough to enable us to reach the upper part of the doorway, having detemiinad, as the safest plan, to work from the top doa'nwards. A short distance back from the platform there was a banicTi and beyond, knovring that there might be hours of work ahead of us, we had provided chairs for the visitors. On either side standards had been set up for our tamps, their light shining hill upon the doorway. Looking back, we realize what a strange, incongruous picture the chamber must have presented, but at the time I question whether such an idea even crossed our minds. One thought and one only was possible. There before us lay the sealed door, and with its opening we were to blot out the centuries and stand in the presence of a king who reigned three thousand years ago. My O'Wn feelings as 1 mounted the platform were a strange mixture, and it was with a trembling hand that I struck the first blow. My first care was to locate the wooden lintel above the door : then very carefully 1 chipped away the plaster and picked out tlie small stones which formed the uppermost byer of the filling. The temptation to stop and peer inside at every moment was irresistible, and when, after about ten minutes* work, I had made a hole large enough to enable me to do so, I inserted an electric torch, An astonishing sight its light revealed, for tliere, within a yard of m The Tomh of TuPankh^Amen the doorway, stretching as far as one could see and blocking the entrance to the chamber, stood what to all appearance was a solid wall of gold. For the moment there was no due as to its rueaning, so as quickly ns I dared 1 set to work to widen the hole. This had now become an operation of considerable difficulty, for the stones of the masonry were not accurately squared blocks built regularly upon one another, but rough slabs of varying ske, some so heavy that it took all one’s strength to lift them : many of them, too, as the weight above was removed, were left so precariously balanced that the least false movement would have sent them sliding inwards to crash upon the contents of the diamber below. We were also endeavomiiig to preserve the seal -impres¬ sions upon the thick mortar of the outer face, and this added considerably to the difficulty of handling the stones. Mace anti Callender w'eic helping me by this time, and each stone was cleared on a regular system. With a crowbar I gently eased it up, Mace holding it to prevent it falling forwards : then he and 1 lifted it out and passed it back to Callender, who Iransferred it on to one of the foremen, and so, by a chain of workmen, up the pajssage and out of the tomb altogether. With the removal of a very few' stones the mys' terj’ of the golden w all w'as solved. We w’ere at the entrance of the actual burial-chamber of the king, and that which barred our way was the side of an immense gilt shrine built to cover and protect the sarcophagtw. It was visible now from the Ante* chamlier by tlie light of tlie standard lamps, and as stone after stone was removed, and its gilded sur¬ face came gtadually into view, we could, as though * I'l.ATK \[.ll Si; Vl.El> nOijKVi AY T<1 Tilt; l,t IULVL ai VMHYK. (Sbutwjug (}>•• rcduMtig dI thr iilundirrrr^* hnlr Hi li4l|onvA The Openitig of the Sealed Door by electric current, feel the tingle of excitement which tlirilled the spectators behind Uie barrier. The photographs on Plates XLIIl and XlJV, taken during the progress of the work, will give the reader some idea of what Uiey actually saw*. We who were doing the work were probably less excited, for our whole energies w’erc taken up with the task In hand — ^that of remo^dng the blocking without an accident. The fall of a single stone might have done irreparable damage to the delicate surface of the shrine, so, directly the hole was large enough, we made an additional protection for it by inserting a mattress on the inner side of the door-blocking, suspending it from t!ie wooden lintel of the doorway. Two hours of hard work it took us to dear away the blocking, or at least as much of it as was necessary for Uie moment; and at one point, when near the bottom, we had to delay operations for a space wliile we collected the scattered beads from a necklace brought by the plunderers from the chamber within and dropped upon the threshold. This last was a terrible trial to our patience, for it w'as a slow business, and we were all of us exdted to see what might be witlun ; but finally it w'as done, the last stones were removed, and tile way to the innermost chamber lay open before us. In clearing away the blocking of the doorway we had discovered that the level of the inner cbaniber was about four feet low'cr than that of the Ante¬ chamber, and this, combined witli the fact that there was but a narrow space between door and shrine, made an entrance by no means easy to effect. Fortunately, tliere were no smaller antiquities at this end of the chamber, so 1 lowered myself down, The Tomb of Tut'ankh'Amm and then, taking one of the portable lights, I edged cautiously to the corner of the shrine and looked beyond it. At the comer two beautiful alabaster vases blocked the way, but I could see that if these were removed we should have a clear path to the other end of the chamber ; so, carefully marking the spot on which they stood, I picked them up — with the exception of the king^s wtsliing-cup tliey were of finer quality and more graceful shape than any we had yet found — and passed them back to the Antechamber. Lord Carnarvon and M. Lacau now joined me, and, picking our way along the narrow passage between shrine and wall, paying out the wire of our light behind us, we investigated further. It was, beyond any question, the sepulchral cham* her in which we stood, for there, towering above us, was one of the great gilt shrines beneath which kings were laid. So enormous was tlib structure (17 feet by 11 feet, and 0 feet high, we found afterwards) iliat it filled within a little the entire area of the chamber, a space of some two feet only separating it from the walls on all four sides, while its roof, with comice top and torus moulding, reached almost to the ceding. From top to bottom it was overlaid with gold, and upon its sides there were inlaid panels of brilliant blue faiencev in which were represented, repeated over and over, the magic symbols which would ensure its strength and safety. Around the shrine, resting upon the ground, there were a num¬ ber of funerary emblems, and, at the north end, the seven magic oars ttie king would need to ferry him¬ self acrc^ tlie waters of the underworld. The walls of the cliamber, unlike those of the Antechamber, t*LATK X 1.111 ornNiw; «tK niK skai^d ihmikwat th tiik .‘'EPLT.chhal ClUMllElt: ^:AR^AKVON ANIl CARTER. I The Opening of the Sealed Door w«re decorated with brightly pointed ficeoes and inscriptions, brilHont in their colours, but evidently somewhat hastily executed. These last details we must have noticed subse¬ quently, for at the time our one thought was of the shrine and of its safety. Had the thieves pene¬ trated within it and disturbed the royal burial ? Here^ on tlie eastern end, were the great folding doors, closed and bolted, but not scaled that would answer the question for us. Eagerly we drew the bolts, swung back the doors, and there within was a second shrine with similar bolted doors, and upon the bolts a seal, intact. This seal wc determined not to break, for our doubts were resolved and we could not penetrate further without risk of serious damage to the monument, I think at the moment we did not even want to break the seal, for a feeling of intrusion had descended heavily upon us with the opening of the doors, heightened, probably, by the almost painful impressiveness of a linen pall, decor¬ ated with golden rosettes, which drooped above the inner shrine. We felt that we were in the presence of the dead King and must do bjin reverence, an*! in imagination could see the doors of Uie succe^ive shrines open one after the other till the innermost disclosed the King himself. Carefully, and as silently as possible, we re-closed the great swing doors, and passed on to the farther end of the chamber. Here a surprise awaited us, for a tow door, east¬ wards from the sepulchral chamber, gave entrance to yet another chamber, smaller thnn the outer ones and not so lofty. This doorway, unlike tlie others, bad not been closed and sealed. W^e w'cre able, from where we stood, to get a dear view of the whole of 183 The Tomb of Tut ankh- Amen the contents* and a single glance sutHecd to tell us that bere^ within this little chamljer, lay the greatest treasures of the tomb. Facing the door«'ay» on the farther side, stood the most beautiful monument that I have c\"er seen — so lovely tliat it made one gasp with wonder and admiration. The central por* tion of it consisted of a large shrine-s Imped chest, completely overlaid with gold, and surmounted by a cornice of sacred cobras. Surrounding tiiis, free* standing, were statues of the four tutelary goddesses of the dead — gracious figures with outstrctclied protec¬ tive arms, so natural and lifelike in their pose, so pitiful and compassionate the expression upon their faces, tliat one felt it almost sacrilege to look at them. One guarded the shrine on each of its four sides, but whereas tlie figures at front and back kept their gaze firmly fixed upon their cimrge, an addi¬ tional note of touching tealism was imparted by the other two, for their heatls were turned sideways, looking over their shoulders towards the entrance, as though to watch against surprise. There is a simple grandeur about this monument that made an irresistible appeal to the imagination, and 1 am not ashamed to confess that it brought a lump to my throat. It is undoubtedly the Canopic chest and contains the jars which play such an important port in the ritual of mummification. There were a numljcr of other wontlerful things in the chamber, but we found it hard to take them in at the time, so inevitably were one’s eyes drawn back again and again to the lovely little goddess figures. Immediately in front of the entrance lay the figure of the jac^l god Anubis, upon iiis shrine, swathed in linen cloth, and resting upon a portable ■84 Platk \LIV Ill THK .SCALED Til THE jiEPIJS.t:ilUAL rHAMHKtl; CAMTI-H ami MMK The Opening of the Sealed Door sled, and hchind this the head of a bull u|>od a stand — emblems, these, of the underworld. In the south side of the chamber lay an endless number of black shrines and chests, all closed and sealed save one, whose open doors revealed statues of Tut'ankh'Amcn standing upon black leopards. On the farther wall w'ere more shrine*shaped boxes and miniature cofGus of gilded wood, these last undoubtedly containing funerary statuettes of the king. In the centre of the room, left of the Anubis and the bull, there was a TOW' of magnificent caskets of ivory and wood, decorated and inlaid with gold and blue faience, one, whose Hd we raised, containing a gorgeous ostrich-feather fan with ivory handle, fresh and strong to all appearance as when it left tlie maker's hand. There were also, distributed in dilferent quarters of the chamber, a number of model boats with sails and rigging alt complete, and, at the north side, yet another chariot, Sucli, from a hurried survey, w’ere the contents of this innermost chamber. We looked anxiously for evidence of plundering, but on the surface there was none. Unquestionably the thieves must have entered, but they cannot have done more than open two or three of the caskets. Alost of the boxes, as has been said, have still their seals intact, and the whole con¬ tents of the chamber, in fortunate contrast to those of the Antechamber jtnd the Atuicxc, still remain in position exactly as tiiey were placed at the time of burial. How' much time w*e occupied in this first survey of the w'onders of the tomb I cannot say, but it must have seemed endless to tliose anxiously waiting in the Antechamber. Not more tiian tlircc at a time « iSs The Tomb of Tut*ankh*Anien could be admitted with safety, so, when Lord Caj- iiar\^oa and M, Lacau came out, the others came in pairs : first Lady Evelyn Herbert, the only woman present, with Sir William Garstin, and then the rest in turn. It was curious, as we stood in the Ante¬ chamber, to watdi their faces as, one by one, they emerged from the door. Each bad a dazed, bewil¬ dered look in his eyes, and each in turn, as he came out, threw up his iiands before him, an unconscious gesture of impotence to describe in words Ove wonders that he had seen. They were indeed indescribable, and the emotions they had aroused in our minds were of too intimate a nature to communicate, even though we had the words at our command. It was an experience w^hich, I am sure, none of us who were pr^ent is ever likely to forget, for in imagina¬ tion — and not wholly in imagination either — we had been present at the funeral ceremomes of a king long dead and almost forgotten. At a quarter past two we had filed down into the tomb, and when, three hours later, hot, dusty, and dishevelled, we came out once more into tlie light of day, the very Valley seemed to liave changed for us and taken on a more personal aspect. We had been given the Freedom. February 17tl> was a day set apart for an inspec¬ tion of the tomb by Egyptologists, and fortunately most of those who were in the country were able to be present. On the following day the Queen of the Bclgian-s and her son Frince Alexander, who had come bo Egypt for that special purpose, honoured us with a visit, and were keenly interested in every¬ thing they saw. Lord and X4ady Allenby and a num- Tin: siiHiMi ?Fii jifN nrr smit-amK. The Opening of the Sealed Door ber of other distinguished visitors were present on this oc^ion, A week later, for reasons stated in an earlier chapter, the tomb was closed and once again re-buried So ends our prelinunaiy season's work on tlie toinb of King Tut-ankii-Amcn. Now as to tlrnt which lies ahead of us. In the coming winter our first task, a difficult and anxious one, will be the dismantling of the shrines in the scpulc^al chamber, It is probable, from evidence supplied by the Hameses IV papyrus, that there will be a succession of no fewer tlion five of these shrines, built one within the other, before we come to the stone sarcophagus in wliich the king is lying, and in the spaces between Uiese shrines we may expect to find a number of beautiful objects. With the mummy— if, as we hope and believe, it remains untouched by plunderers— tliere should certainly lie the crowns and other regalia of a king of Egypt- How long this work in the sepul¬ chral chamber will take we cannot tell at present, but it must be finished before we tackle the inner¬ most chamber of all, and we shall count ourselves lucky If we can accomplish the clearing of both in a eingic season, A further season will surely be required for the Annexe with its confused jumble of contents. Imagination falters at the thought of what the tomb may yet disclose, for the materia) dealt with in the present volume represents but a quarter— and that probably the least important quarter— of the treasure which it contains. There arc stiD many exciting moments in store for us before we complete our task, and we look forward eagerly to the work that lies ahead. One shadow must inevitably rest i8t The Tomb of TuPdnkh‘'Amen upon it, one regret, which all the world must share— the feet that Lord Carnarvon was not permitted to see the fuU fruition of his work j and in the completion of that work we^ who are to corry it out, would dedicate to his memory the best that in us lies. uy AXTOJlIAMUtJl? Tlji: UOX.JiEADt:L> :iL 1 t r V APPENDIX DESCRIPTION OF THE OBJECTS (Plain XLVI— LXXHQ Fun XLYI THE ONG-9 WISBING-CCP W ALABASTER {CALCHD OF LcmroiM Tbt decoration of tba bowl compfiaes a wborl of calkea and fepali in low relief. Tlie handlu conabt ■ of lolui fioweca and bntli auppiiiliag the fsmhjetii of **£ten]o] lifeJ* Upon liie bowl are llie prenomen and nometi of the king, and the legend animd ibe rim raida; “ Kfj ti4 lire, Honta * Smtif BtiU fair of ibe Two Gaddciui *B<«]C£ftil of ordlnaorci^ (pKllifii the Two Landis* Honu of Qold^^WwtBf the dJadenu and propituliDf tka Goda.^ TIh King of Upper aoil Lawvr Lord af tha Twa LatHk. Nck^KliBpmL-Hef fxaoiad **Ura Bif Eo, aail majtt iboa qnod miUioiia of rean, thoa loTcr nf Thebei, ihtioi wltb ib^ face to iba oonb vmd, »d thy eyca bclialdiDi faUcity^" * V thM tirateiT of Tovaak^ -amii. wWk. igo I^IJVTE XLVI 1*1^11: Xl.\ rf Fiats XLVn ALABASTEB (CALCITB pehfome vase resting npOK AN ornamental stand II ii fitnked by tbe emblem of -Myriad* of Yearn.'’ and the bindiiip of papynia and lottif whicb aymboUae tbe union of ibo “Two Land*” ot Kingdom* of Upper and Lower Egypt, 191 Flits XLVm ALABASTER tCALOTE) PERFUME VASE RESTING UFOR A TRELUS-WORK PEDESTAL Like the preceding tsm (Plate XLVIl) it ii fitmked b; aymEwh of '^Yean" oml the ^ Union of the Kinsdotuk” The tulaid iHKsei an of obeidian * -v. — VDlcaaic glaji. PJ-ATE XLVIll XI-I\ Pwre XlIX (*) ONE OF ITHE KIN(7S BEDS CAfiVED IN SOLID EBONY Trra string mesh The fore mi iiind !eg» im feline type* (b) The Qpeii’-wdric fool panel* of eboityi hrory end gold# repre*eeti BES and THODERIS* the tnlo- Uiy of the bonfleliold* *93 Platt L SCENE IN UINIAJUSE PAlNTlNC UPON TSE BlCHT-nAND SIDE OF THE UD OF THE PAINTED CAaCTT, N». U In tli4 centre ive ice llie bie eliujot •boating dewrt fcona* enMUi^ wbicb can be identified gaielle, bartdteeaii wild-afs, oetiich, and siriped bjenOf fleeing before Hi» Majesty^a botind#. Bebind the king are reptesenled bis f*n*bearer*, ooartiera and body^ptard. In the field m depicted de«ri flora. ^ (See pp. IKhlll.) *« PL4T£ LI SCENE IN MINIATURE PAnSTINC UPON THE LErr-HAND SIDE OF THE UD OF THE PAINTED CASKET. No. £1 Tlii# ta 9 umilv cvinpofilioD to tltst iti llie pr^ cediog pble (L), but bet« Tut < mtUi ^ Am«o hoiitfl liotu aiid lianeaees. The minulcneu of iletaiL <ease of movement* and agcmlaed oxpreuion of the dyiof umaalii rank thu miniature painting oa the fioe«t of its kind, far aurpasaing Penion exampteo. '' (See pp. lltkllL) ‘9S Plate LH SCEN'E Ei MIN1ATC8E PAINTING UPON THE LETT SIDE PANEL OF THE PAINTED CASKET, N«k 21 Hck Tut’Ankh>Amea ii repreMoted in bie war dioriot, slaughtering bis Soulbem ow Altieon foes. Qe is supported by fim-beiuera, cliariotoers and bow¬ men, and above him we the proieetlve Tnltores of ^lEKHEfiET, and the Sun's disk endrcted by Hojnil URAEl trilb jpeudont ** ANKHS," the symbots of Ufe. (See pp. IKVIII.) II I MVid Pmti LI 1 1 PtATX Ull SCEJfE IN MLNUTUHE PAIKTIISG TIIE RJGHT SIDE PANEL OF THE PAINTED CASKET. No. 11 The scheme «r oynftiwenlgUoo here ii iimilibr la thnt on the kfl nde pabcI (Plate LIl)f cxce|}l that ihe king u reprefteintet] Rluu^teriDg hie Northern or Afjjtie enemies. The whole maH of thie omamentf like that of the left poneh u tnide up of todiDotie hamen fignree in every kind of action — and magnihcent action. The king is shown ia faia chariot^ drawing hid bowt his shcare* of arrows rattling at his sides, and the stain falling under him as before a p^tilence. (S« PP* IKHIL) 197 Plats UV SCENES UPON THE FBONT (4) AND BACK (■! PANELS OF THE PAINTED CASKET. M TheF depict die Liog u a ephinx irompling apOD liii rnraitlet Iti die onire 'of eocb pond mi« ihe two eutoudie# of:Tt]t*»iklt*AineiL (See pp. 198 Pt.4Tl:. rj\ vr PtATK LV t^CE CEOAR-WOOD CASI^ INLAID AND VENEESED WIXH EBONT AND IVORY (No. 131 TLe C4uk«t h» ilidiog pales tu csfty il bf, fixed in Staples on the bottom Plat« LVI (4> A.N ALABAMA (CALOTE) CASEET Tbe omamcnlfttiofi ii deeply ineiMid And Sited in witti raloured pipEienUu The knob* ere niAtle of poliflhed obiiditn — ■ natural Tolcanie glus^ (t) DECORATED OaT CASKET (No, U> The panels of ilie Iid and fmr ride* of the box Are of b|ue faience overlaid with gili ge*eo otha- raentatian. The devioca mi the tide panel* oompTW the prenomeEi ond noEneB of king, with pendont LnRA£J AureiDunted with foirwliokA On the lid sre the baiiner«ii*iQe* of ilic king* and on front of the CAHket are the eynihob ^ HEH ** of Elemity* The knob* are of viJilet fajeiiec willi eartoiiche* of the king inlaid in pale blue. ri4TE i,vi Plate LVn W A SOLID IVORY JEWEL BOX (No. iMd) Tlie kiic»b^ liLog^ii and feet cosiagi qte nf gnld. Curved od the front ore Honj^namep pr^ndmen and nomeu of Tuti-aiikh*Ain«H (e) View iUdwl^ on llte back of the haat a column with I^e capital pymholiidag Upp«r Egjpt. o *01 Plate Lviu the LASGE VAULTED-TOP box (No. 101) i_ Ti i* of wpod md bean hi frcmi the of Tut - antit* As^c^ and that of hii Ankh^ea^a'Ameti. It contraiod tho kings iLiwn, X>2 JIJA'I PtATB LIX PtATE LIX A CHILDS CHAIR (No. m Thit noAll etuu, proBablj the king't when a diild, b carved of ehony eud tnloid vrilh ivory. It hu antelope end floral dmrieea of entboased gold on the paneb of the amt*. *03 Plate LX A CARVED CEOjIR-WOOD CEAIR (No- 8T> Tbu mftgnificcta cedAT^wocH] cbEir liati tlir winged mlar i]iik« angle piecce aad fltud« in eralHisBei] geliL The cIswa arr of i™ry^ the ffK>t*pi€c«9 phaAthed with gold! and bitmie. The open^warlc gold-plated ornajneiitiilioti between the peat and mhr tom away hy ihe plunderers represented the “ Union of Upper and Lfiwer Egypt ** in the fonn of totiui and papynu flowerf iiyrobolisting the binding together of tLeae two eonntries PLATL [*X I’l vin l.\l Plate LXI THE OFEN.VORK PANEL OF THE BACK OF THE CARVED CEDAR-WOOD dlAlR. N*, S? Flii4 UD The ciirfbd op«i‘work device coiupn*c* a central figure of ** UEH ” kneeUci^ upon a Pfnb "-flign f yni- bolbiug "* Golden Eternity.*^ In each band am tho cjnbUEiiiJ of “Myrindi of Yeara,^ nnd on the right ftTm bangs the ^ Ankliv ^ the Bytnbol of ** On l^olli ridea of the central figure are the Uoim-nome# of the king, surmotmtod by the Boni«^hati^k ^-eaxmg the crown# of Upper and Lower EgypC 3iid before it the royiJ cobra- S^Trmonnting the figure of ^Golden Etcmiiy^ is the aolar dbk flanted by the prenomen and nomen of Tut * ankli * Ameiu On the upper tail iIjC winged tolar dbk b of cmho«5ed ftheet gold FukTE LXU THE GOL0EN THHONE Wo. ny (5«« Pbt« TL UJil uid UQV) A magnificent cbair of wood overlaid with alteel ^Id and licLljr adorned wiifa polychrome falimeef glou and stone intaj, of El Amoma art^ iti of fdine form* are Burruoanted liy iLdna^ heack in chased gold of bcaiitiftil aimptidty^ The ttrma are formed of crowned and winged terpenta mpporting with their winga the king^a cortotiiJica, luid hetween the vertical liar* which support the back there are six pmieciive UKAEI corred In wooih gUt zmd mloid, with craW]]i ujid solar disks. The heads of tliese serpents are of violet faience, ihe emwtis of silvcf and gold, oud the disks of wood gillp Behind, on the back panel* b a seme in relief of papyrus rnehea and water-fowl {tee Plate LXiV). On the front panel of the back of the Uirone is a beautiful and unique inlaid palace seene of the king and the queen {for deKription see Hale 11^ and pp* 46 and U7)p The nuHing gold open-work device between the mil and seat of the lliranc, wrenched away for the metal by die tomfa-rotihermt ponsijited of papyrus and Idttu ftdwers boimd to the central “ mna and sym- boliacd the ** Union of the Two Londs,^ the Kingdoms of Upper and Lower Egypt. »6 Pl ATH I_X|| LXUI Fuvte Lxnr THE KING’S GOtDEN THHONE (N«. 91) A tHagnUjeent cliair of wo(h1 overlaid wilh ^eei |K>ld and liclily odomed willi polfcliTtunie fueneoi /flose scud «tone inlay^ of El Amarna trt («ee Pbtea n. LXn and LXIV). *07 Plate LXIV THE KING'S GOLDEN THRONE (N«. «1) A magiufic«ii clitiir of wood overlnid with ahect gold Kod richJy adorned with polyohromo faience, gloM and atone bdoy, of El Axnama art (we Platea U, LXn and Lxill}- I’lATE I.XIV pLATt LXV (a) a LABGE PEiNDAKT SCAEAB OF COLD AND LAPIS LA2UU BLUE CLASS (H> BEZEL OF SCAILAB depicting ihe kiog betwe<3j god Alum (loft) and the Bua-god Honu ( fight )« the latter deilf gl^mg Tal 'ankli* Amen ihe afoibol of life. Above ilie is the ioliiT dttL radistiog Ufe^ and is a decent live i{«vico symbolical of the ‘‘Union of the Two Kingdoms*^ Uppet and Lower EgypL (c) A COLD pendant in the fonn of Kliepcru«neb*He, the first carloucbe of Tut ^ankli* Amen- It is Tnlaid wilL eornelian and coloured glass, (d) TilE CIL4SED BACK OF PENDANT (O 3tog Plate THE CENTRAL PECTORAL OP THE CORSLET The de\'ioe repTe»eni« Tul * wkh * A«eu (in the eeqtre) bein^ intindueed b; * gect anti godden t» the Theban deity Amen. (f) THE BACK PENDANT OF THE CORSLET OF COLD RICHLY INLAID - The device inclcicle* ike winged •*Klieper"* beetle ttipperting iolar diek, uid hui tke tAlwf and toil of the eolor hawk holdiug syniboli ot life. PettiTjttti to the beetle are Iwa roval cobra# weoriti|t llie Ctowti of Upper Egypt and ihe Red Crown of Lower EgypL and opem ibem hang the annboli of life Uee Plate X7CXYITL and pp. 116, 136 and ITS). JiO I’l vrt: IJiM pi ATF. i .xvn Pl*^ LXYIl (i) SEVEN FINCERRIWGS AND AS 08SAMEKTAL nK<;ElMUNG BEZEX These lings are of sotiil golil imd at* richly ^oraled with inlay (see Pla** XXX. and p. 138}, {■» Ct)i-D BUCKLES OF OPEN-WOBK SHEET COLD, WITH .UTLIEO PATlTJWf IN TINV CHASDLES One device is a huntius soenct in the other Tut- ankh'Amen {a seated upon his throne. (SciJ p. 114.) Plate LX V ill THE SHALL COLDi^ SHHINE It i» of DBOA shape upao ■ ilnL The cuved wooiIwotL ia ovcflntil will] aheet. gold upon which vatioui icen« oA idiDMd- (See Pbte XXIX And pp. 46, U9-m) LWtU Pl..tTT l.XIX W I _ Pi;,ATE LXTS. WO CEBEMONlAl TAUUNC^CKS COVEBEO ^TTH thin c^lo foil The lieadi) annA whI feel Aftican priAonen art of eJwpy and are notahle for Uieif exrriiig. «13 Plats LXX A CEBEMOOTAL WAUUN&STtCK nfn^tT lo tliow on die preceding Plaie (UuXk Oii Uiu stick we repreacnled ibe two foe* of die king. Bymboliiiiig liie Northem aiid Souibem enemies of Egypt Tile Aeialic type (a) is of irofy, ihe African type (b) is of ebony. Tb^ are unique in Egyptian srt. (Sh p. 1150 *•4 Pj-ATt. I, XX A riuTt; r*x.\i Plate T.X f A STAFF AHD STICK (a) *TUib ifteiff ift decorated willi ommiieiitJiI barki and it inlaid witfa eJytta of iridescent beetka. (n) A curfed-bimillcd Rtidu gill aoil eliLbqmtAtj decorated with coloured burksh {See p. 115,) Plate LXSn STICKS ASD WHIPS WITH OBNAiEENTAL RANDLES IN GOLD-WORK Tim first Blict on ibe Itfi )« of gold. The a««ond. a wMp, u of jvoiy md lit» a long-' hiero^Tphk inKripUmL TIw onasmEntation of ite third (.centre) stick i« b) gniRtilatcd gold. work. Tlte other two are of wood emlmllbheil wiili gold foil. LXXJI Pjuf L\M|| Plate LXXm TWO STOOLS (a) Eed-^wood ireUu-wcirk stool inlaiil vrith Ivmy uul cboaj. (b) a UelliB*work Aool poistod white. 117 PtATB LXXIV TWO STOOLS (aJ Ad ofnam^la] woaden «tool pAiuted The Qpen-wcirk device u Ajrtnbolica] of Ihe ^^Unicm of Uto Two KiogdomA," Upper end Lnwer Eg^pL (b) An ebony alool richly tnletd wilh'hroiry anil emhelliflhed with heavy gold pioimliitgK The eeet of the Btool ii devued to eepfosexit tm attimuTtf Ain, and the Jegi termumlc in ducke' headit 'Ui' Pmti; 1.x XIV I'ljiTK LXXV Plate UDtV TOBrJi AND TORCa HOLDERS OF BRONZE AND GOLD UPON WOODEN PEDESTALS These ore ebaDlutely new hn typ^ one of them bw Btill ils tuieh of twisted linen in position in the oiJ4up. Two of tlirm had bowls for lloaUng wiclu, now miwtTifr Ptobiihly Uiek weio of gold land were stolen by Uio tomb-thieves. On the left lamp a wmH pottery bowl eerves to ilioiw whni they were probably Hke, (See p. U3.) aig PtATE LSXVT THBEE’qf the B0TF3 Tfait iUaBlraUon iLowa onlf Ute detail of a of tie I10W& The ^upper two donlile bowa ace of componte type and are decorated with|f>miimecta} hat^ The lower bow ia of heavy gold and ia elaborately decorated witli fine gold*work inlaid with coloured atonci and gtasa. (5«f p. m.) I pLAfl- 4 Plate LXXVU on viATs Lxxvn THREE OF THE fUNCS B0T5 Details of ibe end§ of ihe preceding bows Kbown Plate LXXVL >21 Platc Lxxvni TEXTILES OF AFPLIEB NEEDLEVQBE (a) Hettd omAmenl in llie form of hawlca* '*^uiga And doconted witb gold ecqniiui (b) a poition of robe vdlb applied needlework decoration and embelluhed witb |;oId ieqaiiu. {Se« p. 171.) an i*i.Ark i.xxvnr St (ill Taii*!+ti|' (No. ccL pL\rr LXXI\ ESASirLt::? iw THE KiNtr^ii la.iwEs^. (Scp p. 17 1) {a^ a U^ir *bvtfl witU iBiiMft for ijUe itir urii^i lN«. l mJ JS- *a>60 —-tKJOdpSKBC;* SKETCHPLAN OF THE TOSIB 2*3 INDEX Ajid ^ Alii Bbv Yehia yIeUi thi? tomb, 100 Abd d Halim Puba SulomanH ITS Abd-cJ-Kaiuli. tunlLjr of, dhcovct rayiU lomliVt 70 Ahmcs^ Klngp rdnuLsI cfi SO Akb'cn-Ateii, 41 Dfp 74. 05 death ot. 43 pbfitography^ fat confafl at, t2v Alubaiief Joft In antecbomlie'T of lomb,. 110. 115, 12L law, a cadio ^ bbatlod 115, IL0. 130 Barcopbagiu of Sell I, SB, 69 Atdtu«tt«, an tmnojtied^ 77 l?a»p 9D» I04p IM wislilng-ci^p 0, no Alcxafid«f« Iwce. IwpscU tomb, 186 AUfloby, ijidy# vlilta CIlb tomb^ 106^ 186 Aikiiby. Lotd+ Lasted to Titli ibr Lomb. IDO wllntwi optiUbg of HoJcd doofi 135 Aiiieii-iaii''b^b» cemetery thlef^ Amei]^b«t«p Ip reburUI oU ^0 tomb oft Amen hetep II. KJng^ 511 aimt of dc»4dmtor« ol tomb p!» 7S fall tomb opened j a itlicover^i 71 rtburlAl of royil itjummlts In tomb ol, 50. ri Amen’betfp U|, deucralJoa ol tdi tomb. 55 tomb cEflomd fay author. 75 Amen'itiwi, tomb of, 54 AnebonteA^ a eoli^ny ot. to lb« Volley, 63 Anltb^'en W’Aten, PrlnceeA ber letter to tlw Kln0 of lb* liltiites, 47 intrlgUoA ob 47. 45 moiilfn dame ol, 46 maiTto Tiil-snKfa-Aineii. 43 npiTAedUiLLoiitof, Od V&tab fumitiiiti, 46 the DogbozkeuJ tofalctA and, 47 Ami&xe- of tomb, confa^d eondlUoii of. 104. 154, 135 Antechamber of lomfa* i partition wall In, 113 0 furyey ol the. IlD rf «o- on Inner seoled door In. tOl, 103 appwanoe of, on opening of sealed door. 175 dMicuily cl dealing, 12S Intpectioti of. 151 |>artiui repamtlGD of, alter tomb- Tahhtry, 13% HO plandcrtAg of. 154, 18S prellmlnoiy pfaotograpbi of. 137 4l» of, ItO Ayt King, and Uie biniaJ ot Tnt'uikb' Amen, 44 Court CAanUierfaLln. 43 tomb of. discavered and deoied. 00 B HAiEsii££Oii syntcm, adynnUges of, 151 BctmliSa In tbo mhoy. 54, 05 Beud-work. E^ptliin love olp 159 BcndA. re-3trlDgfaig and m-UimdlnBt 160 Bed, n wondetit 115 of ebony foid wovtn (sord, ItJ Bedi, Kg^tlatr, oonstmetion qU 113 Queen of ibe, tEupecti tomti IBB Bdaoni^ and fall hydiaulb wheel, 67 cmiddm be bee txlieiuied possi¬ bility of lorthef' dBooverien, 65 76 death of, 50 Bgyptiaa irseitrchn of. 67 exhlblu hit Egyptian ireaiureSp 69 hU aoconnt of experUnca tc Egypt, 6B i!il$ exeavnUons fat Egypt. 67, 55 Belhell. Hon. Blefaard. ^tnfsees open« lug of eealed door. i75 135 Index BLb]U3-eI'Mc]uk«^ the gaU fir Court of the 65, 64 Boghovk^ui, mins of^ 47 Boomerangs, creclnim^ 116 Bouquets of Oo^on or leaves, 99 Bows and arrows, 113, 114, 121 Box, a painted, 104 of ebony and painted wood, 114 of ivory and ebony veneer, 115 shrlne-sbaped, wiUi doulile doors^ 119 wiLh Inelsed orti&mentaUoTi, 114 Bootes, ovlfortn, 99 Breasted, JProfesscrp Ancient Records of Egypt " of, 58, SO deciphers seal fniprwsion^, 1D9 witnesses Opening of seaJed dooCp 173 British ^fuseump a Menmlon bust In, 67 Brute, and Theban bnodlts, 65, 60 researches of. La tomb of Rameses in, 66 BmgsclL Bey, Emile, Investlgatlom et Deir el Babari, 71. 72 Buckle of sheet gold, ll4 Burcbordtp Belroni nnd, 67 Burghclcjv, l^dy. blo^pbJcaJ sJcetch or Lord Carnarvon by, 1 rf Bnrfcoiip Harry, of MetropoUtim Ma- seunii New York, 103, 10il| 127 1 130 work In the Valley, 69 C Cab]>jeiw, note-card, 164 Cairo Museum, a stela In, 45 exhibits Trom tomb in^ 150 royal mummies Jn, 72 treasures awaiting final restoration in, 176 CaLoite wluc-stratrierp a* 116 CaUenderp A, R,, his work in the tomb, 92p 93, 101, 107, 130, 180 joins Howard Carter* 91 Candle tests for foul 95 Canopic chest and jars, 184 Canopy, a. tra veilings i20 Camar^^Qii^ Lady, excavatioo work lit the Valleyp 85 Carnarvon, Lord, biographical sketch of, 1 tt Sff. death of, 188 enters the tomb, 101, 102, 186 his concession in the Vadey* 75 replies ta Mr. Carter's cable, 91 witnesses fipeidng of sealed door, 178 Casket, a painted woDden, and lU contents, 110. Ill, 166 e( scj. how it was treated, 164 ef sff. removed from tomb, 130 with decorative panels, 113 Caskets, painted and inlaid, @9 CeoieLery guardians cuimive at tomh- plundering, 52, 55 Cemetery thieves, trial of, 58 Chair, n carved cedar wfiud, 118 a miniature, 1I4 a rush- work* H5 of Ivory, gcMj w^ood and leather work^ 194 with decorative panels of ebony, ivory and gold, 114 ChampolLion, werk in the Valleyp 89 Omrlots, 99, 120, 130, 131. 132 Chest* an undcrhnen, 116 of eheny, ivory and red wood, 114 Cloak, an imitalifin leopfird-skln* l7l Cdoth, trealincnt of, 187 Collarettes and necklaces, 114. 116 ColLors of Tell ei Amama leaf and Hower type* 173 Composite animal couch. 116 Corslet, a remarkable, 116, 120 recoustrucUon of^ 173, 174 Couches* animal-sided, 98, 99, 112 €t se?., 130, 131 Cow-headed couch, 112* 115 Cups, faience, 110 Gust, Sir Charles, witnesses opening of sealed door, 173 D Daoud Pasha, Mudlr of Keneh, and a thIcL 71 and the Abd^ebRasals. 70 DavlB, Theodore, and burial place of T^t ankh-Amen, 77 excavations In the Valley by, 73^ 79 relinquishes bis com^cs^fint 76 Dicauvflle railway, transport by. 176 Deir el Baharl, mumiuy of Thothmes 1 removed to, 53 removal of other kin^ to, 60. 89 royal mummie-s found by the Abd* el^Ramlj, 89, 70 secret passage to, 64 Descending passage, discovery of b, 0 ** Description of the East,^' Fococke'Sj 63 DeviHicrs, M,, and tomb of Amcp hetep^ 79 326 Index Drah Abul N«gga foot-liillSj tomb of Amen'het^p I on, 52, 75 Dr&vetU quarreh ^th 6^ Duok-stools> toldingk 114 E Egypt and Asls, InUrmaniages be¬ tween royal bou^ei of, 47 Egyptian Hall, Piccadilly, Betzonr^ exblbLUon In, 59 Egyptian mouar^^i, their love of oslentaUon, 5K 52 Egyptian State RaUwav^ courtesy of, 199 Egyptlansp their concepUon of biulalp 5 1 Egyptologi!(ta inspect the tomb, ISS Ehenefer^ cemetery^ thielp 5$ Electric light installed in tomb, 9Sp 101, 127 Engelbath, Mr.^ Clilef Inspeetor of Departmeat of AnttqumeSp &3, 101, 17a Excavation* Importance of photo¬ graphing Burvcylng netit'k. in, 150 Excavator, life of the/ 124, 125, 153 ti F Fagap^ tombs of Middle Kingdoni, 63 (note) Faience cupp Tnt-ankii-Amen^ 77 lings, A pad of, 140 vsswk 104, 135p 136 Fleld'Work and tts Importancep 125, 152 " Five Yeanf* Explorations at Thebes/* by Lord Carnarvon and Howard Carterp 75 Fly-whbk, horse-liEiirp 121 FAGd offerings, discovery of* 115 Fnneral bouquets^ 116, t24 Funerary materlalp a cache ofp 78 Funerary temples, alteration In dls* posiUon ofp S2» 53 and their uscp 52, 53 G Gamino board, a^ 104 Gardiner, Dr. Alan, 109 witnesses opening of sealed door¬ way, 178 Garstin, Sir Wllilam^ and removaJ of body of AtpEP^heLcp, 72 enters the tomb* ISO Invites author to excavate for Lord Carnarvon, 75 wlLnesses opening of seated door 178 GaunGctp an ardier^s, 171 German expedition to the Valley, 09 Ges», method of Oxlng to wood* 159 Glass vases, 114 Gold lings bi a fold of cloth, 114, 138 H Hall* Mn., dranghtsman tn American expedition, lOSp 100, 130 Hapb cemetery ihlef, 58 Hameas of chariots, 12L 132 Hat-'shep'sht, Queen, sarcophagus In¬ tended for, 81 tomb of, 53k 73* 32 Hjan^r, Mr.^ draughtsman to Amer¬ ican expedJGon, 108, 109, 136 Kay, work In the Valley, 69 Head, work in the Valley* G9 Head real, a gUt. Ill, 167, 170 Head-shawls and their nse, 138 Herbert, Hon. Meryjn, witnesses opCll> Ing of sealed door, 178 Herbeirl, Lady Evelyoi 92, 186 enters the tomb, 101 witnesses opening of sealed door, 178 Hermits: in Valley of the Kings, 62 Hlttltcs, King of the, and Tut-ankh^ Amen's widow, 47, 48 Hor-em-heb, Klng^ orders xouewaL of burial of ThoUim^ IV, 54 supplants Ay* 44 tomb of, 74 HydrauLlc wheel introduced Into Egypt, t InsuiiAM Effenoi, an oJflciftl fnipec- tion of Antechamber by, 101 Inenl conslruots bidden tomb of Thfothnies I, 53 Inbapl, Queen, reburial of Setf I and Hamcscs II in tomb of, 86 Intermarriages between royal bcmscB of Egi'^pt and Asia, 47 IramenK cemetery thief, 58 227 Index j J&HSp aliisflater^ 83, llOj llSp I2l l>olteiy^ 77 K Kailv'ak templesp restoritiDiiS oti 45 KcmwesCk cemtltiy 58 Khfijnwuep vM«r ot Th«be$i S8> 58 King'd mannequin^ fl, 120 Kiunap tomb-robbci? of^ 70 Kttma hUJSp a mldDlglit dlmb ot, 80 bondild or, &1 L Labohatory work, why tiectKarVj 151 ef seq, LacaUp M^p Director-Gefitral ot Service or AnUqiiitiN, 17S, 182; ISO liiEpectd the tomb, 106 Leopard-skin priestly rahe^ 113 Lepsius surveys Vafiey or the Kings, 60 Libation vase or alabaslcTj 113 vases of blue laience, 116, 138 Llmestonei 162 Lion-headed coucKp 112^ 113 Llaht, pyramid Deld^ American ex¬ cavations on, 108 Lcret, M.p opens Up foyal tombs, 72,, 84 Lotiform cup of translucent alabasterp 6» Lucasp Mr.» Director of Chemical Department of Egyptian Govem- mmu i08j 109» 130 Luxorp tomb of Tut 'ftnkh ►Amen dls- eovered at, 00 Lythgoe, Mr,i Curator of Egyptian Department, Metropolitan Mu- rtump New Yorkp 107, 178 MaeT'AteNk Pjukce^p death uL 43 Mannequin, Up and Its usOi 120 MasperOp Sir Gaston (Director of An- tlqultjes Department), 75, 76 advises against further tnyestiga- tions in the Valleyj 76 Medinet Habu, Temple of, 76 Men^pehU'Re, King (see Ramesea I) Mentn-ber-Uiepesh-ef, tomb of, 68 Mer en-Ptab* tomb oL 64 p 63 Mert-Aten, Prlnccu, marriage of, 42 Merton, Mr., Tfmej correspondent, and the ofiQdal opening ot tomb, 106, 141 Meryt"Re^Hat*sliep’S6L Queen* 64 Metropolitan MuBeum of Art, New York* en^pemtlon ot, 108 Jars from the Valley In, 77 Mohammed All* BelzonJ and, 67 Mohatned Bey Fahtny vUlta the tomb, 106 MonumentSt ma^lhcence ofp 51 Mourning for the dead» Egyptian manner Oit, 72 Mummies, costly ouUit oL 51, 54 Mystery, EgypLEan love oL 154 N Napoi^ox, bis Commission d'figypte, 66. 79 Necklace, a double:. ol faience beads, 171 nn ekbomlOp 120 Necropolis seal, the royal, 78t SO, OO. 62 Needlework, applied, examples ot. discovered. 172 NofertitJ* wUe of Akh’eR'Aten, 43 New York expedition, generous help from, 103 Newspaper correspondents visit the VaUey, 142 Norden^sd^criptlon of Theban bandits. 65 Note-cards of objeclx found in toiiLb> 164 O OsxAS Bpv cssayt to curb activities of Theban bandits, 65 Osorlicn I. 61 QsLraca, discovery of^ 83 PACKINO. question of^ 176 Papyrusp treatment of, 111 Papyrus sandals of Ills Majesty, if 171 223 Index F^ruffla wa^^i melted^ advantages af| 366 Paynezenip Hl^ Priest of AmeOp 59 Pectoral of corslet^ 136 PendanUt a collar of^ 14D Perfume Jars Id carved alobasteri 315 Peser^ Siayor of ^ebes^ 56-58 Fewerop guardian of necropolis at TtiebeSfr 56j 57 PtiJletairas^ SOD of AmmonloSi inscribes hJs name in a toniti» €l Fbotograpliy, a dark room in a tomb» 3Z7 Jndoofp 167 v‘alxie of, in excavation work, 155 Pit-tomb, contents of &y 77 PocoCbCi Richard. " A Description of the East ” by, 63 rf sec, Pottery Jianii* a cache of* 77 Preser\'att\'es for objects taken from tomb, 109* 124, 126, 130, 148* 152, 163 Press representatives visit the iombi 109 Priestesses burled In Valley of the Kings, 61 Pyranilda, ihc entrance passage, and Jiow concealed* 51 R Raheses 1* tonLb of, dfscovered by BelionI, 68 Ramcscs 11. “ eolossaJ Mcmnion bnst of. 67 desecration of Jits tomb, 59 reburial of. 59i 80 tomb ofp dtared by Lepsliis, 68 Rameses in, tomb of. 59. 64* 66 Rameses fV* papj-Tiis, 187 tomb of, 64. £3 Raineses VI. lonib of, 64, 85* 87 Bflmeses IJi* tomb-robbery in reign of, 55 Romeses XI, tomb of. 64 Bameses XII, tomb of, 64 Rawlitison, researches of, 69 Rbindp explores Valley of fUnp, 63 Rings, goJd* in a fold ol doth, 114, 333 Robes, roj-ai, in painted casket {No- 21Jt in, 167 ortianientatian of* 111* 163 Rock-hewn passages, dosslcal refer¬ ences to* 61 RoceltLni, researches of, 69 Royal monuments, nno vailing efforts for safeguarding* 51 Royal necropolis seal, tliP, 76, 89, 90, 92 Royal tombs, desecration of (m Tomb-robbery) S SiiLT, ^lit,, British ConsuJ-^enerial In Eg) pt* Bdzont and* 67, 69 explores tbe Valloy, 69 SandaJs. bead* 121, 323 Court* 111 leather. golil-dccoToted* 170 preservative treatment of. 123* 124 rush and papyrus* 167, 170 Sarcophagus, an alabaster, discovered by Bct^ni, 68 exhibited In London. 69 of ciy^stalllnc sandstone* 31 Scarab of gold and laplsdoxuJi. 1 M of ThoLbrnes 111, 93 Sceptre, a golden, 114 Seal. Tut'anitb-Amcii's, 90^ 92* 303 Sealed doorway, a second, 95 passage debris removed from, 92, 93, 95 seal Impressions on, 95 Sealed doorway discovered. 88 JDvestigatlons of, 92 ft seq, secured against interference* 90 Scaled doorway to sepolchral chamber, opening of the* I78 ef umtinei figures guarding. 99, lOl, 112. 134 SeaHnp, 78 noted and photographed. 93 Senmefer* appropriates n royoJ tombii 84 ^ntlnel itatnea* 99, 101* ii2^ 1S4 Sepulchral monumeDls, oii unusual entry on walls of Tnt-ankh-Amen'^s tomb* 44 Set-nekht. 04 SetJ I* Befxoni's discovery in tomb oft 38 bla tomb desecrated : and reburial of* 59, 60 Sctl lip laboratory work io tomb of, 129* 162 stomb of* 60, 64 Shnwabu statuette of Tut^ankh Amen, 120 Shrine within tbe BcpuJchre, the* 130 ef ieq. Shrines, black* 99 emblematic, 114 229 Index SUPtah, tflrtli of, 74 SUtra (niiisjeal lii5trutiient$}j 115 King, busbaud of l^ert'Ateiip 42 Soane Museum* the, sarcophagus fmm tomb of Soli I In, Staircase tn the rock discovered, £7, &2 Statues in Tut-ankh+Amen"* tomlip 09^ 101, 112, iU Staves, 99, 113 Steel gate for door of chamber^ 10^ 107, 100, 129 Stela of Tiitmnkli'Aiiien iwurped by Hor-era’hels, 45 (note) Slicks* 115, 121 Stones laboratory treatment of* 161 Stoolt a plain wood, painted white^ 119 A msJi-workp ll-S an eruamontai white, il3 of ebony and rtd wood, 115 of ebony. Ivory and goM, 119 Surveying In excavation work* Im- portance otp 150 T T/Lpn$Tii¥ weaving, examples of, 172 Tn^usert, 54 Tell cl Amorna, Art of, US, 120 death of Akh^cn^Aten at, 42 remdvetJ of Court from* 45 Temperaturci effect of, del objects from Ibe tombp 165 Temple tesloratloiii at Thebes* 45 Textiles, vaiiable condition of, 159 Theban hantliU, 64 tl je?. Tonlb- robber>0 Thebes, Court removed to, 45 prefatory' work at* 82 rf zeq. rainstorms of, 132 Thothmes I* tomb of, 50, 62, 63* 61* 72 ThoUimes IK reburfUl of, 59 Thothtnes UI, 41 a Gcorab of, 93 AH interesting archaeological fact coDceiTLing, 64 gold statuette of* 437 tomb ofp 72, 64 Tbothmes IV* designs tomb of Amen- hetep in, 79 examples of tapestry weaving in tomb oK t72 tomb of, 54* 73 Throne, a golden JnLoid* 99 a remarkable* and ita htslortoal Im¬ portance, 117 representations of Tut'ankh-Amen's wife on hack of* 46 ThuOi tomb of, 74 Times, the, reports official opening of tomb, 196 selected for publication of Inlorma- Uon, 143 Toilel table, a, 115 Tomb design, a new theory of* 51 Tomb-robhery, 52, 64, 55 70i 72 73, 79p so, 102, 104 evidence of* 54, 133 ef se^* precautions against* 51 robbers surprised at work, SO temptations of, 55 trial of robbers, 53 Tomb-work, importance of Immediate notes on, 162 Tombs, Valley* Pococke's deBcriptiou and plans of* 64 Torch^boMerSj bronze and gold, 113 TotteiiluLm, Mfr, offliclal Inspection of tomb hy* 106 Transport of tomb treasures, how accomplished, 176 et seq. " Traveb la Egypt and Nnbla*"’' Norden's* 65 Travels to Discover the Source of the KUe," Bnice's, 65, 66 Turbi papyrus* the, I6l Tut-aakh+Amen, burlflJ ceremonies of, 44 changes his religionj 45 interesting evidence m to age of, 171, 172 marriage of, 41, 43 oIHclal opening of his tomb* 106 parentnge of, 4t paucity of Infoimation regarding, 45* 46 probable site of tomb, 82 rebgtoa of* 45, 113* 119 restores temples at T7icb«, 45 tomb Of, 52, 54* 60* 37 ef k9 j Tyl* Queen, 43* 95 scptUcbral shrine of* 74, 79 Tyi, wife of Ay, 43 U UNunnLiME^* a diest of* 116 Uiermioc-Setepnere* King Racnesca II) Index V Vau*ev oI iht Tontbs of the KJom. thcp 50 American escovatora In, 73 ancharites it\ pos&uslon ol, 62 bandits In, C4 ei stq. Belzonf's esma^tions In^ 03 cotnmencenielit of catnp^gn In, 32 conee&slon eranted to Lord Carnar¬ von and air. Carter, 76 flndlng of Tut-aii]tIi*Annn's totob. Im 37 ei first tomb con^tmcted ia, 50, 61 German expedition to, 69 hovt yarded, after dl$ooverv of tombp 126 Pocooke'j de^eripUon of approach to, 63 €i seq, TOck-heTm pe^age§ of> 61 Btarting point of operatloiu In, 82 ef Aeq. Vabdallsm, q chai^ *1, disproved, 73 Vases, Ajqboster, 99, 104, IH faience, 104, iSS, 136 dtaas, 11-4 litatlon* 113, n6p I3G Visitors, mn Inllux of, and refiectEoas thereon, 143 e/ W WAUi of toml>$, a repiehensiblo prac- Ike. 61 ^ Water eklns, diwovery of, 94 Wax, pflialfin, as preservativep 166 Wlilp, on Ivory, 115 Wilkinson numbers the tombs in the Valley, 66 Wlne-stralner, a oaldtOp 116 Winlock^ Mr., director of New York Ob:avatIorLS. 77, toa, 178 WLsbing-cup. an aiabssterp 110 Wood, preservation of, 153 Wooden cases containing food offttingSp 1 15 Woodwork, prolilenu of, !S3 ef seg. Y Vita, tomb of, 74 231 1 FmVftD IT M. ComttMTi. ImiTTB. Bnti iMKom* £-Cv|. Illll■lllll■lllll■lll, nnii ■■!!■■ ■!!■■ Ill ■■■Mil m ■■■<!■ ■ ino I I, I r r 1 rT~i r i fi ■ • i ■ 1 I 1*1%^’ <4 M MHnHaaa ■■■■■■■■■•■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■•■••«•«■■ sa i T[i ■ ■ ■ rl ■ 1 ■ 1 1 ■ ■ MM ■ ■ ■ I j ■ ■ ■ [i ■ ■ ■ 1 1 ■■■HaaB'tTl I DHII ^ ^ a !!! ■ ' * \ ‘ ‘ J f M 'n M 1 '^r I U n t i-m ■ m I ■ ■ .^ 7^ m 1 i 1 1 Biiu 1 1 1 M i [ h 1 1 mJ j I i 1 1 [| i-’i 1 1 n I ITJ [ HI I rm~r DH **A book that is shut is but a block** ^^^EOLOO/p ^ '-'if; GOVT. OF INDIA Depaitment of Archaeology ^ NEW DELHI. a % \ Please help us to keep the book clean and moving. 1. I., DtiHI. N n h >■ , I ■ ■ , I m i I I B til n I I H U M n » H U I I H w B i > u , ■ ■ ■ . > I f fcT I BHI B BHI I II II llfl I I IP^' 7 ^ 1 1 I P 1 I h ■! 1 I Ilf I I n f I I I I I I I I I I - m in ■ ■ ■ - mm Ml m ^b«iiFiiwianaB,||i,nnBaHlim.ymmaa-rr^ U I F W U U 1 1 Ll LJ L