One of the great rewards of the project was the enthusiasm of the students and young graduates. They sought out every opportunity to assist us and their endeavours on the protective canopies were a real labour of love. Under the guidance of the Dean and the Council’s engineers, their design work was readily translated into tangible results. The installation side of the assignment gave them first hand practical experience which the Faculty was prepared to incorporate into their last year’s course work. They were extremely proud of their contribution to the protection of a part of their country’s heritage. I thought that, if they maintained their sense of commitment, it boded well for the future conservation of Egypt’s lavish heritage.
Over lunch in Cairo with Abdullah and Yousef, I heard an item of marginal interest which, at the time, didn’t strike me as being relevant to our activities. Omar Hussein had joined us, as his department was involved in a side issue to the main project. The first results of the DNA analysis had arrived from France and a significant part of the mosaic of correct attribution and lineage of the royal mummies had been conclusively established. However, one result had thrown the Council into a state of consternation. The tests on the mummy of Ramesses II indicated it was in no way related to his forebears, Seti and Ramesses I or his son and successor, Merenptah. The dismay was so dramatic that a second set of bone and teeth samples had been urgently despatched to Paris and the outcome awaited with a high degree of trepidation.
The three men were deeply worried about this unsettling report as the mummy of Ramesses II was one of the top draw cards at the Cairo Museum. Naturally, to find out it was not who it was claimed to be seemed a possible disaster as far as tourists were concerned. I didn’t think it was as serious as the Egyptians did. After all, even though the tests on the Turin Shroud had conclusively proven the shroud could not have been used to wrap the body of Christ after his removal from the Cross, the relic still drew the faithful who chose not to believe in the veracity of modern scientific analysis.
I filed this news away in a corner of my mind from where it would re-emerge with a vengeance later in the year. I thought Jean-Claude d’Argent would be more interested as it directly related to his restoration work in the Ramesses tomb. Little did I know that this startling fragment of information would be one of the triggers to the most exciting discovery in Egyptology. At the time I was in the first wonderful flush of a new marriage and, between the happiness I shared with Tamaam and my work load, I had enough on my mind not to be overly concerned about the identity of a desiccated corpse. All in all, I was satisfied with the progress so far. I had a small team working in KV42, Queen Merytre Hatshepsut’s tomb, effecting repairs to two cracked columns in the burial chamber. Work was well advanced in KV20 and KV47, our major projects, and I had started to investigate possible remediation in Seti’s tomb. My career was immensely gratifying, I had a wonderful new wife and living in Egypt had few troubles and many rewards. Life was good!
Chapter 23 – THE TOMB OF RAMESSES II
Egypt – Present Day
The tomb Ramesses II had prepared for himself was an anachronism, as it replicated the style of the earlier Eighteenth Dynasty tombs, all of which turned on their axis at some point along their length. The tombs of the rulers who preceded him, Ay, Horemheb, Ramesses I and his father, Seti, were typical of the layout of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Dynasty tombs, all of which were quarried along a single axis. The other exception was the tomb Ramesses built for his children but it radically departed from any known design concept to become a subterranean city of the dead and closer to being a catacomb.
There was no overriding geological reason for turning the bulk of KV7 ninety degrees at the end of the straight corridors, except for some evidence of Esna shale low on the northern wall of the antechamber which may have caused the builder to return to the safety of limestone. He was unfortunate. The imperative to excavate downwards inevitably drove him back into shale.
KV7 was quarried into one of the first buttressing hills on the western side of the East Valley. A ramp would have led up from the valley floor to an entrance framed with a crescent of limestone chips and, possibly, protective walls and channels built to deflect flood water. Nineteenth Dynasty tombs were sealed with heavy, hinge mounted, ornamental cedar doors as the earlier practice of plastered masonry walls had been abandoned. When KV7 was pillaged, everything of value would have been quickly stripped out, the tomb left open and neglected. Honour in death, even for a king as magnificent as Ramesses II, proved to be transient.
The immediate years after the dynastic collapse marked the beginning of the Valley’s decline into centuries of near obscurity. The village of Deir el-Medina, home to the skilled craftsmen who worked on the tombs for over four hundred years, was abandoned as artisans and their families moved to where their talents were more eagerly sought. Temple priests and guards left and the valley remained unused as a cemetery although there were intermittent, intrusive, burials in the Twenty-First and Twenty-Second Dynasties when several tombs were usurped by the Theban nobles, some of whom recycled the empty sarcophagi and royal coffins for their own internment.
Over millennia, infrequent torrential downpours assailed the Theban Hills and water washed vast quantities of limestone detritus into Ramesses tomb, almost filling it with rock like accretions. For over five hundred years, after Alexander the Great conquered Egypt, a handful of Greeks and Romans visited the upper reaches of the tomb and left their graffiti on the walls. It is recorded in the chronicles of the Greek, Diodorus Siculus and the Roman, Strabo, that at least twelve Valley tombs were open as their entrances were so prominent they were never submerged under stone chippings, unlike tombs with more restricted portals.
In 642 AD, the last representatives of the Byzantine Empire fled when Egypt fell to a Muslim Arab army advancing under the banner of the Caliph. The Valley is then only briefly mentioned in Islamic documents and the place maintained its long quiescence. In 1707, the first known European visitor, Father Claude Sicard, a Jesuit priest, noted ten open tombs, one of which was probably KV7.
It is commented upon by the English explorer Richard Pococke in 1743, James Bruce in 1768 and featured prominently in the manuscripts and maps complied by Napoleon’s scientific expedition. Thereafter, it was visited by almost every famous name in early Egyptian archaeology - Belzoni, Hay, Wilkinson, who gave the tomb its modern numerical designation and Salt, who attempted some excavation in 1817. Champollion and Lepsius undertook minor exploration in 1884. Lepsius crawled down to the burial chamber and later diagrammed an almost perfect plan of the tomb. Harry Burton (1913-1914), Howard Carter (1917-1921) and a team from the Brooklyn Museum in 1978 all undertook limited excavations.
Burton wrote in 1913.‘It was necessary to pull down a great dealt of the ceiling. (in the first corridor). (Two days later) First passage finished, commenced second passage. The ceiling was unsafe, pulled down a great deal. The sarcophagus chamber is in a very bad state. All eight columns have fallen and brought down much of the roof with them’. Burton gave up, deciding the tomb too unstable to continue any further excavation, observing the tomb had limited stylistic value because the wall decorations were so badly water damaged, little of merit remained. Carter encountered problems with the stability of the tomb ceilings, judging it was dangerous to work amidst the devastation. There is every indication Ramesses chose a very unsound location for his tomb which had, with hindsight, everything working against it - poor quality limestone, an unstable shale foundation and an appalling position in relation to flood water intrusions.
KV7 was written off as a tomb too hard, despite the stature of its provenance. Though not the worst tomb in the Valley, it certainly ranked amongst the top prize contenders. Then, in the fine tradition of the French with their long and intense association with Ancient Egypt, Jean-Claude d’Argent and his team from the French Academy of Antiquities, launched a rescue mission and restoration began in 1994. The project was hampered by earlier structural failure, th
e ever present hazards of recurrent rock falls and debris removal. Just as onerous was the desire to conserve what little remained of the decorations.
I knew little about conservation work and sought guidance from al-Badawi, a highly qualified restorer and conservator. Whenever he and Liz, herself an experienced field worker, got together to instruct me in their discipline I detected a deep seated frustration in Yousef.
“I almost weep when I think about how much of our history has been lost through carelessness, greed and even stupidity. During the early days of discovery, literally thousands of fragments were discarded or indiscriminately trampled. Look at KV55. By the time Ayrton and Davis finished their romp through that ancient mess, they had destroyed evidence which, in the hands of a modern archaeologist, would have clarified the owner’s identify and revealed more about the provenance of the artefacts found scattered around the tomb. Too late now to cry over, as you say in England, split milk.”
Liz queried “Dennis, you have been over to KV5 and 7 and observed the work of conservators? Contemporary excavation and restoration is a painstaking business undertaken by people working not to damage or overlook artefacts swept into the tombs or washed from room to room by swirling waters. Trenches are dug through the debris field and slowly widened towards walls or pillars. When found, they delicately salvage plaster that had flaked off surfaces and fallen into the detritus.”
“Surely the removal of debris from tombs like KV7 must take years, if the archaeologists are so intent in recovering every scrap of historic value?” I asked.
“Yes, it does but remember, an artefact you might regard as valueless can reveal a wealth of information to a professional. It was an assessment of fragments in flood debris that could yield clues leading to the discovery of tombs. Carter was adamant he would locate Tutankhamen’s tomb after finding artefacts bearing the king’s name amongst tomb litter.”
Yousef said “All the material excavated must be screened, as this yields a veritable treasure trove of data and, in the hands of people with our training, a range of damaged artefacts can be restored. You have seen the results in most museums.”
“So why are there so many tombs unidentified? Surely, from the sweepings left by robbers, it should be easy to determine who the original occupant was?”
“Unhappily, there are tombs devoid of images or hieroglyphs. In others, vandals or earlier explorers cleared a tomb so completely nothing was left to allow a determination. You have no idea how casual some of the early discoverers were. Intact items found their way overseas, no notes were kept, fragments were boxed then lost or shipped back home for assessments that never took place or, more usually, what was thought unimportant was shovelled out and dumped. Egyptian artefacts keep turning up all over Europe and America at boot sales, auction rooms and school fetes. Two years ago, I was in London and watched a programme called ‘Antiques in the Attic’. To my amazement, someone in Manchester wandered in with a Middle Kingdom statue he found in a garbage dump. I rang the BBC, spoke to the producer, who put me in touch the owner and I made a cash offer of £50 which he accepted. It now sits in our Museum and has been valued at over $50,000.”
“You know, we don’t regret the hours that go into conservation but knowing what is involved in the fastidious restoration of decorations creates a nightmare scenario within us - the prospect of renewed devastation by future flooding. The 1994 storm did immense damage with water depositing a new layer of silt in the lower levels of Queen Hatshepsut’s tomb. Others, including KV7,were partially flooded and the tomb of Vizier Bey was almost ruined. In Cairo, we pulled our hair out in frustration and rage. After an urgent meeting with Abdullah, the President allocated a sum for the protection of tombs, but most are still exposed to the elements. This is just one aspect of the internal battles we have over the diverse objectives associated with dollar income and the need to preserve our heritage.” he said in some anguish.
“I can appreciate the despair you must experience sitting desk-bound in Cairo.”
“Forgive me, Dennis. Sometimes I need to vent my frustration. You have no idea how irritating it is to work with the lackadaisical attitude so evident in most government departments. Palm greasing, endless inconsequential meetings and paperwork like snowflakes dogs our progress. Do know what ‘IBM’ means in an Arabic context?”
“No, I am not familiar with the idiom.”
‘Inshallah, bookra, mallish’ which literally translated, means ‘It is the Will of God, tomorrow, never mind’ or ‘IBM’. Put off until tomorrow what you can, time is unimportant.”
“I do see some of that in our local dealings.”
“Alas, some Arab attitudes are slow to change. There are times I think it is two steps forward and one step back.”
I returned to Luxor the next day. On the flight south, I reflected on the KV7 and KV5 projects. When Jean-Claude and his team chose to restore the tomb of Ramesses II, they took on a particularly difficult assignment amidst the severe damage reeked on it by at least ten major floods since its desecration. Across the wadi from KV7, Kent Weeks and his team continue the mammoth task of excavating and conserving KV5, the tomb almost beyond doubt the mausoleum of Ramesses’ sons. Exploration so far had uncovered 150 rooms with the intriguing probability of finding more. There is even a theory that a tunnel might connect both tombs.
One morning after my return, just as I was about to visit KV20, I heard my name called. Turning around, I saw an old friend walking towards our site offices. I greeted Iain with warmth and took him inside to meet Liz, who startled me by offering to make us coffee, a job she rarely undertook. I had befriended Iain McLeod at Cambridge when taking my second degree and, as we graduated together, we had kept in touch ever since. Iain returned to Edinburgh, where he secured a position with a Scottish civil engineering company who early detected his interest in working on their off-shore projects. He had project-managed for them in Australia and Kuwait.
I asked how he found me at Luxor. “I was back in London and looked up your father who told me about your work here. As I had some vacation time, I thought it a good idea to come down and see what you were mucking up in this part of the world.”
Iain’s personality lent itself to the demanding role of project management, where he combined strong technical skills with the diplomacy that is frequently required. No matter how well a project is planned, it usually gets knocked out of shape and emotions can run high in the resulting mess. He possesses the happy knack of being able to smooth the most ruffled feathers with tack, humour and aplomb. I gave him a thumbnail sketch of our activities and took him out to see the tombs, explaining the problems encountered with flood damage as we walked. He had experienced a similar environment in Kuwait and I was not surprised when he said,
“Any civil engineer would recognise the topography of the Theban Hills as nothing less than a huge natural water catchment area. Flying into Luxor, I noted a fairly flat plateau and deeply furrowed ravines with almost perpendicular escarpments, buttressed by limestone hills. Walking the ground confirms this place has all the hallmarks of a site subject to sudden cataclysmic cloudbursts, extensive flooding and considerable water management issues.”
“If you had been an Egyptian tomb builder, what would you have done?”
“Ask for a transfer to Cairo.” I laughed. “I don’t think a king held the same attitudes as a modern human resources manager. If you liked your head where it was, you obeyed instantly.”
“A bit like the Emir of Kuwait. What would I do? That’s a hard one and the answer would depend on whether or not the Egyptians recognised what we both know. Logically, the topography suggests a variety of flood control measures should have been built to divert water away from entrances. I can tell you one thing. Such measures are now imperative as what is here now is in no way adequate. There seems to be penny pinching employed in the creation of the skimpy protective barriers I see all around me.”
“I have wondered why the archaeologists themselves have not i
nstalled better protection. Our field research shows that dozens of tombs have no better protection than steel bar or wooden doors, neither of which will stop water penetration. Liz explains that archaeologists just don’t have the money in their budgets to spend on flood control though I am not sure I buy that argument. They work on sites for months at a time and a bricklayer is not a great expense in Egypt.”
Iain was only able to stay in Luxor for a few days. I showed him our work in KV20 and KV47 where he was intrigued by the isocyanate stabilisation technique, as this, he thought, was an unorthodox solution to the intractable problems of working with shale. Just before he left, I took him to lunch to discuss the possibility of his joining the next project, a prospect he said was of interest. He left with a promise to keep in touch. When I returned to the office, Liz, who had been conspicuous in her attendance to Iain and me during his visit, said “What an attractive man. He is the type of man I would like to get to know better.”
“I agree, as did his wife.”
“Dennis, sometimes you can be hateful. You didn’t tell me he was married.”
“I hadn’t realised you had more than a professional interest. I thought you were tagging along to learn more about civil works. You will just have to find solace with the Frenchmen at KV7.” For my sins, she threw a chair cushion at me. Women!
Turning my mind back to practical matters, I thought, surely ancient masons knew shale lacked the properties in which to create ideal chambers. Probably, they would have preferred to change the alignment of the tomb when it was encountered even though all royal tombs were quarried downwards towards the Underworld where, unfortunately, the Esna belt also lay. The angle of descent in Eighteenth and Nineteenth Dynasty tombs is quite pronounced and it was only towards the middle of the Twentieth dynasty that the incline became more shallow. Not a few builders must have found themselves caught on the horns of a dilemma when they encountered an up-sweep in the shale belt. They could hardly buck convention and had to keep quarrying downwards, irrespective of the consequences. Encountering shale whilst digging tombs must have been a hit and miss business and it appears religious dogma won out against any protests a tomb architect may have wished to voice.
The Golden Falcon Page 30