Читать книгу The Pharaohs and Their People - E. Berkley - Страница 7

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Civil War and Break-up of the Kingdom—Reunion and Recovery.

The last sovereign of the sixth dynasty was a queen named Nitocris. After her death occurs a perfect blank in Egyptian history. Not a line of hieroglyphic writing, not a fragment of a ruin has survived from this period of darkness and silence. Of the seventh dynasty the very names are lost; of the eighth, nothing but the names has been preserved. The names, however, are so similar to those of the sixth dynasty, that we may conclude that these rulers were of the same royal line and descendants of Mena.

It may be gathered from the bare fact of the accession of a female sovereign that the direct male line had failed. Nitocris appears to have left no children, and it is easy to imagine how rival claims and dissension would arise; each claimant asserting his right as next of kin, to wear the double crown.

But at the same time the double crown lost much of its splendour. Other pretenders started up, ambitious men, claiming no right of kinship certainly, but anxious to make their own profit during this period of discord and weakness in the ruling house. Egypt was divided into forty-two districts or ‘nomes,’ and each of these possessed its own governor (hak, or prince, he was called) and each was to some extent a government complete within itself. The office of these prince-governors was often hereditary, and there was always a danger lest some powerful and popular governor should aim at setting up a petty kingdom of his own, in the event of the ruling hand becoming enfeebled. During a female reign the controlling power would be lessened, whilst the prospect of a disputed succession was awakening ambitious hopes and schemes. So long as Nitocris lived, the reverence due to a direct representative of the Pharaohs might prove some restraint, but at her death the smouldering ambitions and rivalries of scions of the royal house and of powerful provincial governors could hardly fail to burst forth, and find vent in fierce flames of discord and of civil war.

Would we form to ourselves some idea of the state of Egypt during the ensuing centuries, we must picture a feeble scion of the ancient line ruling at Memphis over a territory barely extending beyond the capital; for in the north the foreign races would seize their opportunity for invading and encroaching upon the rich Delta land, thus blocking the great highway by the river; and farther south a rival dynasty is established at Heracleopolis, in Middle Egypt, not to reckon the other petty kingdoms or principalities into which the country is broken up—the whole a scene of ceaseless jealousies and mutual conflict.

At length in the extreme south certain king-like figures emerge of a more commanding appearance, and seen by a clearer light. The Antefs first, a family of ancient and illustrious, though not royal descent, who had set up their dominion at a town then insignificant and unknown to fame—Thebes. The burial-places of the kings of this family (who are sometimes reckoned in the eleventh dynasty) have been discovered in Western Thebes. Their tombs are plain, and but little ornamented; there are some brick pyramids of no great size, and some fragments of small broken obelisks. In one of the memorial chambers is depicted an Antef who assumed the title of the ‘Great;’ he appears to have been a sportsman, and is to be seen surrounded by his dogs, each of which is distinguished by its name. From the days of these kings a literary relic also has come down to us. The ‘festal dirge’ of the Egyptians bears the name of the Song of the House of King Antef. Many, many ages later, Herodotus, travelling in Egypt, told of the custom which prevailed of carrying round during an entertainment a figure representing a mummy, whilst the bearer repeated the words: ‘Cast your eyes upon this figure; after death you yourself will resemble it; eat, drink, then, and be happy;’ words plainly recalling the ‘solemn festal dirge’ which dated back to the ‘House of Antef,’ about 2000 years before his time, and which was to the following effect:—

‘All hail the good Prince, the worthy man who has passed away! Behold the end! the end of those who possess houses and of those who have them not. I have heard the sayings of the wise:—“What is prosperity? All passes as though it had not been—no man returneth thence to tell us what they say or do.”

‘Fulfil, then, thy desire, O man, whilst yet thou livest. Anoint thine head with oil, and clothe thee in fine linen adorned with gold—Make use of God’s good gifts.

‘For the day will come for thee also when voices are heard no more; he who is at rest heareth not the cry of those who mourn. No mourning may deliver him that is within the tomb.

‘Feast, then, in peace—for none can carry away his goods with him, nor can he who goeth hence return again.’

There are, then, a few scanty records left of the Antef family and their rule in the south. Still more distinct and commanding are the figures of another family, the brave and warlike Mentuhoteps; who eventually succeeded in restoring order over a considerable portion of the distracted and divided land. This family was of Theban origin, and the centre of their government was in that city, then so obscure, though destined to become in after days the crown of ancient cities and the wonder of the ancient world—‘hundred-gated Thebes.’

With wise forethought the Mentuhoteps devoted their attention to the development of trade and industry in the south. The passage of the great water-way of the Nile was impeded, but there was an outlet for commerce by a route leading eastward from the Nile to the Red Sea. Koptos, a town not far north of Thebes, stood at the entrance of the desert rocky valley of Hammamat, through which merchantmen and travellers made a weary and painful eight days’ journey to the Red Sea. The Mentuhotep kings themselves took up their residence sometimes at Koptos, and the gloomy valley of Hammamat gradually became a scene of busy industry. Mines of gold and silver ore were worked there, and stone was hewn from its quarries for building purposes at Thebes, which was continually growing in extent and in importance. For the benefit of the labourers in the hot valley, and for the refreshment of travellers and their beasts, a deep well, ten cubits broad, was sunk by royal order. The whole district was placed under the special guardianship of the god Khem, who was known as the ‘Protecting Lord of the mountain.’ The rocks near Koptos are to this day covered with inscriptions—the invocations and prayers of many generations, both of workmen and of wayfarers. The development of trade and industry brought an increase both of wealth and power to the Mentuhoteps and their people. During the reign of the last sovereign of the eleventh dynasty, a more distant expedition was undertaken.

The land of Punt[16] was well known by name and repute to the Egyptians; they regarded it as a sacred region (Ta-neter, the ‘holy land’), and it was known to be a hilly country, whose shores were washed by the Red Sea, and to be celebrated for many rare and precious products; for choice and costly woods; for gems and frankincense, and fragrant spices; for trees and plants unknown at home; for birds of strange plumage, giraffes, monkeys, and leopards. King Sankhkara despatched an expedition thither under the command of a nobleman named Hanno. Hanno tells us the story himself: ‘I was sent,’ he says, ‘to conduct ships to the land of Punt, to fetch for the king sweet-smelling spices.’ He started with 3000 men, well armed and carefully provided with water, which was carried in skins on poles. Through the valley of Hammamat he pressed on rapidly to the sea; there he embarked, after offering up rich sacrifices. ‘I brought back,’ he says, ‘all kinds of products, and I brought back precious stones for the statues of the temples.’

The route between Koptos and the Red Sea continued to be a highway for commerce down to the days of the Greeks and Romans.