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GOVERNMENT OF INDIA
ASCHiCOLOGlOAL SURVEY OF INDU

CENTRAL

ARCHiEOLOGICAL

LIBRARY

•JElBUIIi

■ ita i • iii ■ s ■

ACCESSION
CALL No. r

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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

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.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

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Depaitment of Archaeology

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