The Golden Falcon

by David C. Clark

  One of the easiest assignments would be the replacement of the rough timber roof supports straddling the sarcophagus in the burial chamber of Ramesses I (KV16). In the space of just under two hundred years, the roof of the chamber had gone from structurally soundness to being in danger of failure with the probable destruction of a priceless artefact. When first explored by Belzoni in 1817, the ceiling was solid. By 1930, large cracks were apparent in the rock above the red granite sarcophagus, so the ceiling was supported by some very crude but still effective timber bracing. Richard put forward a proposal for slimline stainless steel supports that would remove the unsightly timber whilst ensuring the roof did not fail.

  Possibly the most recalcitrant problem, from an engineering perspective, is stabilising Esna shale in tombs. Put another way - if a contemporary mining engineer had to cut into or through shale, there was no particular drama as dealing with friable rock is part of every engineer’s kit bag. This was very different from attempting to retro-fix corridors or chambers anciently cut into this type of substrate whilst still trying to leave a tomb looking like a tomb and not an underground parking station.

  There was one interesting twist in our assessment, an idea that led us to adding, controversially, KV20. A growing percentage of tourists looked for the thrill of the adrenalin rush evident in the growth of extreme activities. We felt KV20, if restored, would go onto the global chart of radical challenges and this unique tomb could attract very high entrance fees from adventurers not afraid to travel down deep into the earth in what was a very claustrophobic atmosphere. Carter famously said of KV20, ‘It was one of the most irksome pieces of work I supervised.’ James Burton, in 1824, observed the air was so foul it extinguished his torches and Kent Weeks, after his recent survey of the Theban necropolis, made pithy comments about the bats infesting the tomb, the stink of their excretions and the unnerving experience of exploring the steep, narrow corridors.

  The next meeting with Abdullah and Yousef whittled the list down to projects we thought would garner the approval of both bodies. It was a good handful – RamessesXI (KV4), Ramesses I (KV16), Hatshepsut (KV20), Tuthmosis I (KV38), Hatshepsut-Meryetre (KV42) and Siptah (KV47).

  I queried whether we should we add the tomb of Merenptah, (KV8) the son who succeeded Ramesses II? Carter had cleared this tomb, another open since its priestly plunder, whilst working KV20. Merenptah’s mummy, which ended up in KV35, was very salty and popular belief has it he was the Biblical pharaoh who drowned in the Red Sea with his army whilst in pursuit of Moses and his people at the beginning of their exodus from Egypt. Archaeologists knew this to be a fairy tale but it brought the tourists to his tomb. Abdullah responded to my question. “No, Merenptah’s tomb needs more excavation in the store rooms off the burial chamber. Even though the pillars in the lower end of the tomb are structurally damaged, they are sound enough for the time being.”

  We spent most of the day assessing the proposed project files. Both Abdullah and Yousef were fastidious in their questioning as they appreciated the political difficulties looming ahead in the boardroom. Finally, as the sun set, Abdullah summed up. “Dennis, if these proposals are accepted, they will allow you to undertake some radical work whilst pacifying my friend, the Minister of Tourism. If we are given the go-ahead, you can quickly fix the less difficult projects so the Minister can re-open these refurbished tombs to the public, with the promise of seeing the restoration of two spectacular tombs approximating their original grandeur. That should keep him happy and out of our hair for a few years. I am confident that the President will support our personal recommendations. Congratulations, this is a job well done.”

  It had been a long and gruelling few months but the magnitude of the task ahead was at last defined. Flying back to Luxor from Cairo, a sense of excitement began to dawn on us. Once approval was granted, we could get down to what we all enjoyed – the delights of physical endeavour and the production of tangible results. To celebrate the completion of the research, Elizabeth, Richard and I took ourselves off to the best restaurant in Luxor. We were well into the after dinner liqueurs when Richard piped up.

  “You are going to have to help me with a matter that’s been niggling me since we started this work. Whenever I had a free night, I read everything I could get my hands on about the history of Egypt and the Valley, seeing I am working with a couple of experts in ancient history. I find the whole subject bloody fascinating but I cannot understand why you archaeologists have done so little to fix up the mess that exists here.”

  “Steady on, Richard” I said. “It’s not our fault the tombs are in decay. Unlike a mine which is driven by extracting a mineral out of the ground to sell and make a profit, ancient tombs are a ‘not for profit’ business.”

  “That’s eyewash, Dennis. The bloody place is crawling with tourists and I notice they have to buy tickets to get into the tombs. Tour buses are up and down the road like Oxford Street on a shopping day and all the tour operators seem to be well dressed. Somebody is making money out of the Valley. Why aren’t the returns being re-invested in the asset that’s drawing day trippers here in the first place?”

  Elizabeth, a little offended by his comments, answered before I could.

  “Of course, some of the money comes back to the Valley. A number of government bodies are spasmodically working on tomb conservation and restoration. You should have read enough about the activities of the Supreme Council of Antiquities and the CEA to know they have put in a lot of time and money into remedial work but keep in mind Egypt is not a rich country. Her population is growing at a phenomenal rate and the government has to get its priorities right and fixing monuments is not the highest item on their agenda. You must travel more so you can appreciate that the Valley is a fraction of the total monumental history of the country and the dollars have to be spread very thinly to keep services up to as many sites as is possible.”

  A little admonished but still irritated Richard countered, “Okay, if it is not the government’s fault, then whose fault is it? In 1817, the big Italian, Belzoni, comes along, armed with picks, shovels and battering rams, finds tombs all over the place and leaves. A dozen Frenchmen follow, finding more tombs. Loret discovers them like a child on an Easter egg hunt. Carter and a merry band of Englishmen dig up a few more then, poof, nothing since about 1932 when Carter went home. I haven’t made a total survey but it seems to me not more than a handful of archaeologists have been doing any work in this place since then. In fact, I could make a list on the back of a match box and without any disrespect to their efforts, they all seem to be brush and trowel men.”

  Liz had her back up as she had done her fair share of field work. “I think a few of the brush and trowel men would take issue with that description, Richard, but essentially you are correct. An archaeologist is on a quest to find information and every piece of information helps piece together the story in just the same way a geologist probes the ground before you get into with dynamite and rock drills. Archaeologists have an extremely important role.” she responded defensively.

  “Then why are they walking around with hard hats on looking up apprehensively at the ceilings to see if they are going to come crashing down on their scones? As far as I can see, only Jean-Claude d’Argent is actually making an issue out of fixing up the tomb in which his trowel and brush people are working.”

  “Again, that’s not entirely correct.” I said, rushing gallantly to her aid. “Many archaeologists try to repair structural damage but they have a limitation. Money. The universities they come from are departments of history, not engineering and even if the universities sent out engineers, they need money and lots of it. You know what this little venture is going to cost , millions of pounds and the only reason the money is on the table is because my father beat the bushes and successfully shook the money tree but before you ask why this hasn’t happened before, I honestly can’t tell you.”

  “Think of it this way. The adventurers have gone, the great patrons like Davis an
d Carnarvon are relics of the past and the Valley’s tombs have, in one sense, fallen victim to the disciplines of science. The philosophy of data gathering rather than finds has been the rationale since the Tutankhamen discovery in 1922. I doubt you will find an archaeologist who wouldn’t give his eye teeth to have the money to do what we are about to undertake. Any self-respecting Egyptologist ranks saving the tombs from further destruction as highly as gathering information but, in terms of clout, the archaeologist is low man on the totem pole at his university. Few have the training or inclination to go out into the world of commerce and pass the begging bowl.”

  Elizabeth reinforced my argument. “The archaeological community is principally concerned with the need to preserve what they can within their limited budgets. I admit that one gets the impression a sense of futility pervades archaeologists, when reading papers and listening to lectures. As fast as they conserve artefacts and undertake what work they can do to preserve the integrity of a structure, the host government clamours for more monuments to be opened to meet the demand created by an increasing number of tourists. You know enough about political and economic pressure just on this project alone to understand that, surely?”

  Richard replied with some asperity “In my opinion there are too many tombs not fully evaluated, tombs discovered then forgotten and, whilst some may be of apparently negligible interest to the touring public and do not share the magic of the great royal tombs, they are all part of the fabric of the necropolis. We’ve looked at tombs that are totally neglected and even though one or two may have benefited by recent research, they are now abandoned again, left open to the elements and nobody gives a tinker’s curse. It’s bloody appalling. A blind man can see what will happen if there is another downpour. Water will cascade into half the tombs, bugger up more of the rock structure, wreck wall paintings and re-fill areas the trowel boys have patiently dug out. If I left my mine workings in a similar condition, my boss would be after me with a shot gun.”

  “Richard, you are absolutely spot on with your last observation. I would have lost my job if I left the company assets unprotected and that is exactly what the royal tombs are, assets belong to the company of Egypt. You may get your chance if I can get you away from your rocks long enough to poke your hairy arms into the other side of the project.”

  “What’s that, you wee Englishman?” he said with a smile.

  “We are putting before the Council proposals to protect the lesser tombs with water tight doors and flood control barriers, so later generations of archaeologists and scientists can re-open, restore, conserve and then give them up to future generations to enjoy. I promise you, my father and I will pound the table hard to get this objective accepted. We may not be able to fix up every tomb in the Valley but we will do our utmost to protect them for the future. On that you have my word, you Highland barbarian.”

  Our team believed we could easily deliver a battery of modern techniques to preserve these monuments for at least another millennia. To do anything less would be a dereliction of our responsibilities to the ancient architects and builders.

  “Now have a last drop of whatever you are drinking as we still have a lot of work to do before I fly up to Cairo again.”

  With this resolve in mind, the three of us bent to the task of ensuring we were well prepared for our meetings in London and Cairo. Obviously, we would need all the political muscle we could draw upon from Professor Dief and Sir Reginald if our conclusions were to prevail.

  Chapter 9 - WONDERS TO BEHOLD

  Egypt – 1275 BC

  I bent over a drafting table covered in unfurled rolls of papyri held down by small granite blocks. Uppermost lay a plan, part of the mortuary temple I was building under the watchful eye of the king. Large diagrams of the temple festooned the walls. More rolls, each detailing some aspect of the construction, lay stored in racks. In adjoining rooms, my assistants worked on purchasing lists, accounts for materials, reports on livestock and food, river craft, work schedules from foremen and quartermasters and the myriad other aspects of the growing monument.

  In a locked room that only the king and I could enter, sat the clay and timber model of the complex, mounted upon a cedar table. Also in the room was a device I knew to be unique, if only because I had designed it myself. On a series of wooden rollers, I had mounted provincial maps from the many mouths of the Nile in the Delta down to the Third Cataract. Every town, village, island, quarry, temple and monument, in fact anything and everything of tangible value was shown on the maps. If Ramesses needed to know the location of a physical aspect of his realm, he need only pull a map up or down on its rollers until he found what he was looking for.

  I had gathered records of population, grain production, quarry outputs, livestock numbers, mines and their mineral types, the number and locations of priests, soldiers, administrators, watermen and the thousands who laboured throughout the kingdom. After a request for assistance Ramesses had instructed his provincial governors to despatch to my office all the information they could document about the regions under their administration.

  When I relayed the king’s instructions to create my own archives to my superior, Vizier Paser, he ordered treasury officials to immediately comply with the king’s command. He unleashed an army of scribes who swarmed like ants over old burial grounds and buildings as they measured, probed and copied ancient documents and inscriptions. My archive became the most comprehensive ever assembled in the kingdom, far surpassing the religious records kept in the great temples. Only later did we discover certain documents had been withheld by Nebwenenef, though I noticed no receipt of drawings or plans of royal tombs in the royal valley from the Amun Temple archives.

  The compilation of this considerable flow of information, which began to arrive in the second year of the king’s reign, kept ten clerks fully employed. Still more material arrived with every royal vessel docking at Thebes and two scribes did nothing else other than extract information required by the king or me. The place Ramesses gave me to use was the old palace of Horemheb. When appointed royal architect by King Seti, I made do with a modest building for myself and my assistants. Even though I was much busier with Ramesses’ commissions, I was initially puzzled by the allocation, as I did not need a former palace in which to conduct my architectural activities. However, once records started to arrive from across the kingdom, I began to appreciate the king’s foresight and the logic of his decision.

  Ramesses also put under my control, offices in the major cities and further instructed me to establish subsidiary premises in areas I thought were of no interest or value to him. I apprehended the king would have a basic list of buildings - his tomb, mortuary temple and a new palace - in his mind as soon as he placed the crown upon his head. Other than these works, there was no intimation of how vast the span of my activities would become in the future.

  At the conclusion of his father’s funeral the king had said “We must speak of my death.” This was a natural prelude to discussions about a mortuary temple and the royal tomb. At the time, I said to Ipi that the most important consideration in the thoughts of every new king appeared to be the preparations for his death and journey to the Afterlife. Whilst not ignoring the profound religious implications of life after death, to which I also subscribed, I further cynically observed a monarch, fresh to the throne, seemed determined to out-build his predecessors.

  I travelled to Abydos to visit Seti’s mortuary cenotaph. The architect who designed the cenotaph was known to me and though I detected many problems with the progress of the work, his execution of the beautifully coloured reliefs showing the gods Osiris, Amun-Re, Ptah-Sokar and Isis, are amongst the best in the country. I also inspected the mortuary temples of Queen Hatshepsut, Thutmosis III and King Mentuhotep II, which stand side by side in a natural limestone amphitheatre against the steep escarpment of the Theban Hills. These three buildings seemed to embody everything a mortuary chapel should be – stately and elegant with a fine balance between the sacred a
nd the secular.

  The king had only recently warmed the throne when he outlined his requirements for his mortuary temple and tomb. He arrived by chariot and I watched his driver scraping sweat from the steaming horses as they cooled down from the trip. Ramesses relished driving his own chariot with a degree of recklessness dangerous to the safety of a pharaoh, let alone any subject foolish enough to be in the path of the speeding vehicle. His driver was a mere passenger, further reduced to the status of a lowly groom tending sweaty horses whenever the king dismounted. I knew his charioteer who confided in me the king was utterly fearless in his management of the two ebony chargers which drew the royal carriage.

  Ramesses burst into my office. “Sennefer, bring a large sheet of papyrus and ink as I wish to sketch some ideas for my mortuary temple.” I rose from my chair.

  “Do we have an appointment? I must have forgotten to make note of this meeting with my Lord and Master.”

  “Ah, Sennefer, you will soon grow to love the Syrian Desert. Give me paper before I stop forgiving you for being young in your ways and let you face the wrath of pharaoh.”

  Smiling broadly and sketching rapidly he said “The entire complex will be enclosed in brick walls. Along the processional way between the outer and inner walls, place a double avenue of sphinxes. The temple buildings shall be of stone construction, limestone, granite, basalt and greywacke as you consider appropriate. Use limestone, not mud brick, to build all the secondary buildings.”

  “After passing through the entrance pylon, one will come to the first courtyard which is to be flanked on the north side with solid pillars between which you will place imposing statues of me. On the south side, erect a palace for the private use of my family. At the western end of the courtyard, a flight of steps will deliver you into the second courtyard. On the east and west sides, a row of tall Osiride statues will be appropriate and on the north and south sides, I think, we will use a double row of papyrus bundle pillars to provide balance to the statues.” The drawings grew more expansive. He had studied other funerary temples in some detail and clearly knew what he wanted.