Just days after the Opet Festival and my trial by lion hunt, the king summoned Nebwenenef, High Priest of Amun, to the old palace in his father’s mortuary temple.
“High Priest, sit with me as we have much to discuss. Some refreshment?”
“Thank you, Master. The journey from the temple was hot and my throat is parched. A little wine would be pleasant.”
Nebwenenef wore a pure white, chest high pleated robe with his muscular upper torso left bare as was the custom in the priesthood. An elaborate knotted wig framed his angular face and he was shod in simple leather sandals. Only his jewelled stave denoted his high rank. Ramesses had appointed him on his accession as his predecessor was an elderly man and the king wished to surround himself with younger, more energetic men. Nebwenenef, though below the accepted age for such an important position, was intensely pious and a learned keeper of the lore. He had served the temple almost from birth as he was the eldest son of a priestly family revered for its leadership in the restoration of Amum after the infidelity of Akhenaten and his misplaced worship of the Aten, the solar disc.
“I have asked Sennefer to join us shortly but before he arrives, I seek your advice on certain matters that touch on temple affairs.” A servant placed a calcite wine flask, a beaker of flawless white alabaster and several small bowls of figs, pomegranates and dates on the acacia table beside the priest. “It is my understanding the symbols of Aten have been effaced from the temples and other monuments. Akhenaten’s city at Akhet-Aten remains under curse of damnation and proscription. Is this correct?”
“Master, the temples are cleansed of all vestiges of the heretic and his emblems, fortunately without significant damage to the buildings. Although Akhenaten died fifty years ago, it took some time to restore Amun to his rightful place and re-educate the priesthood in an understanding of our traditional rituals and values. Akhet-Aten is now dead to us, both physically and spiritually. The king’s tomb was stripped of its guards and the few priests who wished to continue in their foolish worship of the disc” he replied, satisfaction evident in his voice.
“That is good and as it should be. We may thank the gods for their guidance in these matters. I wish to show my gratitude by completing the work Divine Seti began at Karnak. We pray his buildings stand for eternity. However, it is my desire to raise up more ornaments to the gods and my heavenly father, Amun, by building a grand edifice at the temple at Luxor. Lord Sennefer now studies the existing buildings and my father’s plans. Soon, he will develop proposals for a considerable extension to the temple. It is my desire you meet with the royal architect and assist him with this work.”
“Lord, your wish is my command. You do great honour to your father in completing his works. To embellish a temple will always find favour with the deities.”
Though Nebwenenef was an exemplar of piety, he was not without worldly understanding. The temple was financially very powerful, power achieved through the generosity of earlier kings giving grants of land, men and livestock. The Estate of Amun,with its temples, shrines, barque sanctuaries, living quarters and offices, covered some hundred hectares with agricultural holdings twenty times greater.
Proximity to high authority equipped him to understand the nuances implicit in words between powerful men. Nebwenenef thought he apprehended the mystic connection between gods and kings. When Pharaoh spoke of religious matters he was hearing not only the human voice of the king but also the ulterior desire of his heavenly father, Amun.
The religion of Egypt is deeply complex and Nebwenenef had spent his life studying ancient texts and temple wall inscriptions. The temples at Karnak, Luxor, Abydos and Memphis contained several thousand scrolls devoted to religious dogma, archived from the time of King Menes. Despite their being housed in darkened rooms, many were fragile and texts written by scribes centuries ago almost faded. However, the inscriptions cut into temple walls and pylons recorded, in imperishable words and icons, the allegories of the deities.
A holy triad approved the conception of a king and sanctioned his authority to rule. Amum, the ancient god of Thebes, had been exalted as the supreme deity from the era of the earliest kings. Re was a regenerative god whose cult shrine resided in the sacred city of Heliopolis. Ptah, endowed with the power of creation, was worshipped in Memphis. Together, these gods were universally venerated as the primary deities of Egypt. The complexity came not just from the relationship between the trinity and the king. A deity might form an association with one or more of the divine brethren to bestow a specific blessing. There were gods and goddesses for places, concepts and events. In fact, every aspect of life was under the protection of some divine being and all had to be worshipped and their relations with mankind nurtured.
A king focused his devotions on the principal gods from whom he derived his strength and mandate to rule. The priesthood ministered to the needs of the lesser divine, otherwise a king would spend his lifetime on his knees, prostrate before innumerable shrines. Akhenaten sought to upset this delicate balance between temple and palace by declaring the primacy of one god, Aten. Worse was yet to come. When the king left Thebes to establish his City of Aten, priests were given the choice of devoting themselves to Aten or forfeiting their tenure. Hundreds refused to commit this act of blasphemy and for two dramatic years, turmoil and uncertainty blighted the priesthood across the land. Akhenaten vacillated between closing temples that rebuffed his command or isolating himself at Akhet-Aten.
The gods intervened, inflicting madness upon Akhenaten, causing him to withdraw into himself. Nebwenenef had seen images of the king and his family. They were grotesque. Akhenaten’s reign became a parody of kingship and Egypt slid into disorder. A tussle for religious primacy developed between Akhet-Aten and Thebes, with the High Priests of Amun and Aten locked in clerical war, though none openly opposed the word of the pharaoh, as that was seditious. To conspire to overthrow a king was high treason, even if the ruler was mentally afflicted.
Egypt’s enemies were not so sanguine. Rumours spread that the Hittites smelt the stench of death arising from the kingdom. The country’s military leaders, fearful of combat without the decisive leadership of a strong king, began to contemplate the unthinkable. Commanders from the southern fortresses and generals from the Delta garrisons, men not seen in Thebes unless the king was in residence, began to appear, ostensibly for religious observance. In reality, they sought the high priest’s blessing of a coup.
The priest admonished the soldiers declaring, that though Amun was deeply offended by Akhenaten’s promotion of Aten, the god would not sanction revolution. Just as the pressure from the northern threat and the concerns of the military became almost overwhelming, Akhenaten mercifully died as did his ineffectual successor. Untainted from the opprobrium of a coup, General Ay took the throne after the death of Tutankhamen in a move that led to Horemheb, Ramesses I and Seti attaining the throne. Seti, a perceptive king, well understood the importance of venerating the holy triad.
From the Delta to the cataract below Elephantine, the country was richly endowed with temples built in their honour. In distant Nubia, Seti erected a massive stela showing him offering the creator gods a statuette of Maat, the goddess of cosmic order and justice. Seti was innately aware of the scarcity of royal blood in his veins and appreciated the need to strengthen the legitimacy of his family’s hold on the throne and the bond he claimed between Horus and himself.
The pharaohs of the Eighteenth era were descendants of families long revered, with roots deep in the Theban nobility. Seti, in common with Horemheb and his father, were new men sprung from common seed though, by building monuments to the deities, the taint of low birth wafted away in clouds of incense. It was his hope that from his loins would spring another dynasty. Once his divine right to the double crown was acknowledged by the priests, the accession to the throne by his son and his descendants would be unquestionably accepted. If the foundation was made substantial, the edifice that grew upon it would be stronger still.
Ramesses was fully aware of his father’s ambitions. He would play the high priest like a fish on the line.
“Another wine?” he offered. “We of the Paramessu family have only ruled for thirteen years. You served in Amun’s temple when Horemheb was king so you were witness to the advent of our dynasty.”
“I have had the honour of serving three kings although I was only an acolyte when Horemheb made his voyage to the Second Life. His appointment of your grandfather was a provident decision. There was, at the time, great uncertainty about the future of the throne as Horemheb remained childless. If I may be frank?”
“Honesty is a virtue I value highly in my advisors.”
“Although your grandfather had been a valiant warrior and an adept administrator, Horemheb recognised in his son, your father Seti, a man of outstanding vigour and determination, characteristics crucially important to the strengthening of the kingdom. Your father’s military campaigns extended our borders, enhanced our wealth and stabilised the kingdom’s relationships with our neighbours to the north. He was a divinely inspired ruler who knew how to use the authority of the throne with maturity.”
“Yes, my father brought great wealth and power to the kingdom. Our influence extends to the borders of Canaan and Syria and the pharaoh’s foot rests heavily on Nubian necks. I remember my father’s return with the spoils of war from the campaigns in the north in an endless flow of chariots, cedar logs, gold and silver, oxen, weapons of iron, slaves and wagons filled with sacks of grain.”
“Truly glorious times, Master. Your father was most generous in his donations to the gods and his monuments add lustre to the kingdom.”
“As will I. But Nebwenenef, more must be done and quickly.”
Another high official inherited from his father, The Royal Messenger to Foreign Lands, Lord Amenemipet, had requested an audience with the king soon after the Opet Festival. He delivered disturbing news of storm clouds gathering to the far north of the kingdom’s borders.
Ramesses’ demeanour became grave. “We must strengthen the throne. Soon I will call upon my people to bear the burden of more warfare. Though my father was relentless in his campaign against the Syrians and Hapiru, laying waste to their lands and slaying their chiefs, he did not extinguish their feeble aspirations to stand in the shade of another power. Now they foolishly seek a strengthening of their alliance with the Hittites and this I cannot tolerate. The news from Lord Amenemipet already casts a shadow over my throne. He advises the Hittites are flexing their muscles and their new king is openly bellicose in his speeches to his people and allies. He brazenly taunts us, makes disparaging remarks about what he perceives as my lack of fortitude and questions the integrity of my rule. He knows of my youth and may seek to take advantage of my supposed inexperience. His naivety will be his ultimate undoing but I fear I will be called upon to settle the matter sooner than I had wished.”
Ramesses turned to a table on which were spread the plans of the two temples, calling Nebwenenef to join him just as I entered the throne room. “May I attend you, Master?”
“It is my pleasure, Sennefer. Come, take wine with us. You arrive at an opportune moment. I had just told the high priest we must do more to emblazon my rule now war against the Hittites threatens. Your advice will be warmly welcomed.”
After seeing to my comfort he spoke “My Lords, I have inherited a stable country. Amum, Re and Ptah grace us with their benedictions. The river bestows her yearly bounty on the land, crops are plentiful, our granaries full, the treasury building needs extending to house the inflow of gold from the Nubian mines and my people rejoice in the harmony created by my father. I have decided upon a course of extensive building in honour of our gods. By this means I warrant my subject’s heavenly blessings.”
Ramesses stood, his face suffused with a strange intensity.
“My blood mingles that of my mother, Tuaa, who was from the royal house of Amenhotep, with that of my father whose family, the Paramessu, was the divinely ordained choice of Horemheb. The god Horus is within me. I hold in my left hand the flail and in my right the crook. On my head I wear the white crown of Upper Egypt and the red crown of Lower Egypt and on my chin, the beard of royalty.”
“Amum and Mut are my divine parents. Isis smiles upon me and instils within me her magic powers. At night Nut protects me. Throughout the day, Amum-Re brings warmth to my body. The gods of war, Montu and Sekhmet, will soon join me as I feel their presence closely by. I am given a great mission by our gods and my deeds will bring immense glory to them and the kingdom. I am one with the gods and they are one with me.”
Ramesses turned to face the Solar Barque, his arms outstretched and face uplifted. Sunlight, filtering through his red hair, surrounded his head with a golden corona and his skin shone like burnished bronze. I glanced at Nebwenenef, who was watching the king. The high priest had fallen to his knees, a look of intense adoration on his face.
By nature, I was somewhat of a cynical disposition. I inhabited a practical world where men controlled events and the role of the gods and goddesses was limited to natural occurrences which usually interrupted projects. My dealings were with mathematical calculations, the acquisition and conversion of materials, foremen and the management of teams of specialist craftsmen. I watched Ramesses and thought his speech mannered and a trifle histrionic. But I was not a fool. I, too, fell on my knees and attempted a look of reverence, an attempt made more difficult by having sunlight blind me. Pharaoh turned around and, with a movement of his arm, indicated we should rise.
“Architect, I command you to prepare plans for my mortuary temple on the west bank of the Nile. You will plan for my mausoleum in the Great Place. I desire you to work with Nebwenenef in designing new temples and monuments to Amun, Re, Seth and Ptah in a veritable chain of grand edifices stretching like a string of precious jewels from the mouth of the Nile to the most southerly limits of my realm. The people must have more and greater temples in which to worship me and our gods. They are to see their king as the divine consort of the gods as I am with them and of them. My people must know of our indivisible unity. This is my wish and command.”
Having spoken pharaoh strode from the room. The high priest was transfixed with awe and wonder. Possibly, this was the reason for the king’s declamation. We appeared to have been dismissed by the king so we quietly left the audience chamber. I thought I would need to be very careful in my dealings with Ramesses. This was no ordinary king and dealing with an extraordinary man could be very dangerous. I made note the king had not asked for any advice of either of us. This was a man who was very sure of himself and his position and only time would tell if this assuredness would be applied with wisdom and not uncontrolled arrogance.
I enquired of the priest if he was free this day to discuss the extensions to Karnak and Luxor. No doubt feeling the king’s injunction weighing heavily on his shoulders, he said he could devote the entire day to these matters. We retired to his quarters where his archivist extracted plans of the two temples. Thus began the long years of work at these great edifices.
The transition from Seti to Ramesses suffered no hindrance as the ground had been well prepared by the father. Early in his reign, he had publicly acclaimed his son as his inheritor when he was but a princeling. Later he proclaimed Ramesses co-regent. The prince was shown at his father’s side in the Temple to Osiris which Seti commissioned at Abydos. Ramesses had, when king, caused an inscription be carved into a wall of the Osiride temple stating he had completed the monument in honour of his father using words I thought lacked a certain modesty.
For the first four years of his reign, Ramesses concentrated much effort in completing his father’s monuments before finding himself embroiled in a campaign that culminated in the imbroglio at Qadesh. During those years, work on the twin temples progressed from a slow beginning until thousands laboured in the name of the king. Ramesses took close interest in what was put before him and although he did not inspect nor approve every detail as he did with his mortuary temple, he offered encouragement, never forbade anything I proposed and opened wide the treasury doors.
At Karnak, Seti’s multi-pillared hall was still under construction when Ramesses attained the throne. He would later use the southern walls of the hall to celebrate his military victories and his cartouche was carved repetitively into the forest of great columns. To reinforce a none too subtle message, I was to adorn the pillars with many images of Ramesses making offerings to Amun-Re.
Since the dawn of time, Thebes had been the cult centre of Amum though, until the growth of pharaonic power in the Seventeenth era, the temple remained a small, simple affair. Dynamic expansion only began with the accession of the Taosid kings in the Eighteenth era. Today, the temple complex at Karnak or Ipet-Sut, was a city within a city, hosting three separate but interconnected areas; the Temples of Amun-Re, Mut and Khonsu.
The expansion of the temple had a long but vibrant history. Amenhotep I restored the central temple and added an exquisite barque sanctuary of alabaster, a pair of obelisks, two pylons and completed his works by erecting a masonry enclosure wall around the temple. His son, Tuthmosis II, raised up a pylon and two more obelisks outside the festival courtyard.
Queen Hatshepsut installed another pair of obelisks, a red sandstone shrine room flanked by two larger electrum tipped obelisks, a Temple to the Goddess Mut and an eighth pylon against which still stand colossi of the queen, Tuthmosis II and Amenhotep II. Ramesses, many years later, observed in a cynical comment, the only reason Hatshepsut has gone to the trouble and expense of creating these additions was to buy the approval of the gods for her usurpation the throne. I dared not smile at this slightly hypocritical observation.
Tuthmosis III stamped his authority on the temple by building the great festival hall at the southern end of the original courtyard. Adding further proof of his dislike of his step-mother, he demolished her shrine room and replaced it with one of his own design. Then he raised up another pylon and in front of it caused another pair of obelisks to be erected. His final addition was two finely carved pillars, one featuring a raised relief of a papyrus plant, the other the lotus, the heraldic plants of the Upper and Lower kingdoms.
Amenhotep III, the Pharaoh Ramesses most admired and desired to out build, tore down the pylon built by Tuthmosis, removed the obelisks and caused the construction of an enormous pylon behind what is now Seti’s pillared hall, along the north to south axis leading to the Temple of Mut. He also added hundreds of lion headed sphinxes dedicated to Sekhmet.
His son, Akhenaten, beginning his iconoclastic worship of Aten, built his temple to the solar disc but, as can be imagined, this monument was destroyed with great fervour by Horemheb. Ramesses told me Horemheb almost made a party of the demolition, cheered on by the newly restored priesthood of Amun. Horemheb went further by building a slightly grander pylon in front of the pillared hall.
On the south-eastern side of the main temple is the Ptah Temple of Tuthmosis III, a cult temple built by Amenhotep III, a tabernacle jointly built by Hatshepsut and Tuthmosis III featuring the tallest obelisk, the treasury of Tuthmosis I and a cult temple to Amenhotep II.
To this dazzling parade of pharaonic piety, I added an avenue of crouching ram sphinxes, each with the head of the king and a number of colossi including one massive figure standing outside the pillared hall with the image of his daughter, Princess Bintanta, nestled against his leg. His final monument, and perhaps one of the finest, is the temple dedicated to Re-Harakhty built to the east of the main temple. Lest any forget who commissioned this temple, I was commanded to erect at its entrance two colossi of the king in the image of Osiris. The sculptor has expertly captured Ramesses’ smile, the smile I was to become very familiar with in our long association.
Once the great pillared hall and the Re-Harakhty temple were completed there was little more to achieve at Karnak other than to reinforce the image of the king, a task Ramesses kept embellishing as his reign matured. I dwell on these matters to show how each king strove to out-do his predecessors by subtly using the temple complex as a site to evidence the modesty of their personal piety.
Luxor Temple presented Ramesses with a much larger opportunity to display his own humble devotions to the gods. This temple, the secondary seat of worship of the Theban trilogy, was very much the creation of Amenhotep III. I am convinced Ramesses saw his legacy as a challenge to be bested. Amenhotep built a substantial yet finely wrought extension with a pillared festival courtyard and colonnade of robust pillars topped with heavy lintels and roofing beams. He re-designed the barque sanctuary, shrine rooms and offertory chambers, in fact, almost the entire western devotional end of the temple was the result of his endeavours. In all, Amenhotep caused over 144 pillars of various sizes and styles to be erected throughout the courtyards and temple precincts. I often reflect that his architect would have been a man with whom I could spend many interesting hours discussing our discipline.
Despite the lengthy meeting with Nebwenenef, I was still at a loss as how best I should embellish the Luxor temple. It is one thing for the king to command, in a moment of religious ecstasy, the building of a temple but quite another thing to translate a few words into mortar and stone. I wandered around both temples and thought deeply about the message of the lion hunt. Ramesses admired courage, he saw himself as fearless and expected those around him to demonstrate their own fortitude. I could present myself to the pharaoh on bended knee and beg for guidance or go, upright, with a design of my choice in hand.
After a final inspection of Amenhotep’s work, I traversed the river and spent a day in his funerary temple, assessing its grandeur. Returning to my office, I took stylus and papyrus in hand and began to rough out my ideas, allowing my imagination free rein. Across the top of my drafting table I pinned a note with the words ‘massive, heavy, enduring’ inked upon it. I had also written ‘self-important’ but erased those words lest another observe my irreverence. A week later, tired and still with ink-stained fingers, I arranged to meet the king. I strode into the audience chamber, placed a roll of papyrus in his hands and said, managing to keep my voice steady. “Ramesses, this is what your commission at Luxor should look like.”
He unfurled the roll, glanced at the drawings then looked up at me, his face expressionless, his eyes locked on mine.
“Have I forgotten some meeting where we consulted on my wishes for the temple?”
“No, Master, we had no such meeting”
“Did I exchange correspondence with you on this matter?”
“No, Master, there was no correspondence.” I felt a bead of perspiration trickling down my neck.
“Do you understand it is customary for a servant to consult his Master on matters of importance?”
“Of course, Master”
“Do you know it is also customary for the royal architect to consult with his king when he contemplates building a temple in honour of the gods?”
The moment of truth was cast before me.
“I remember your telling me of your father’s remarks on this subject. It is the role of the pharaoh to conceive ideas and others to execute the work. I have listened to you closely, sought to determine your desire and then translate those desires into plans. If I have misunderstood your intentions, you may feed me to the crocodiles or cast my body into a pit of scorpions. However, I believe I have captured your aspirations and all I ask is for you to study the results of my interpretation.”
He burst into laughter. “Do I detect a tremble in your knee, O fearless builder, and a quaver in your voice? Sit down, Sennefer and forgive my laughter, it was in no way meant to be hurtful. You face me with the same courage you faced the lion and of this I am glad. Now, give me a moment whilst I view your feeble endeavours.”He studied the drawings, asked a few questions impassively and then rolled the papyrus up, handing it back to me.
“Sennefer, you have anticipated my thoughts exactly but by what process I do not know. I find no fault with your concepts. You may also remember our first meeting? I said I hoped we would make an excellent team as we worked together. What you have shown here in these plans vindicates my opinion of you and your talents. Go forth, young man and build. One small matter, however. Perhaps, periodically, during the construction, you might knock on my door and find it within your heart to spend a few of your precious minutes discussing your work with your king as he labours to pay for your extravagance?” More laughter escaped his lips in which I joined.
What I had designed was a statement of Ramesside power in stone and totally representative of the man himself. Later, when defining in detail and erring on the side of conservatism, the king intervened and instructed me to always make it larger and more grandiose.
To provide the keynote, I designed a mighty pylon with vast walls which Ramesses employed to memorialise the epic of the Qadesh battle. Four towering flag staves are embedded in niches cut into the pylons, each flying royal pennants. Two soaring granite obelisks flank the opening into the new courtyard. Beside each obelisk, I erected two gigantic seated statues of the king. Another four colossi of Ramesses stand guardian against the pylon walls.
The inner courtyard, surrounded by a high limestone wall, is lined with a double row of papyrus bud pillars, eighty in number, surmounted by inscribed lintels and roof beams. Between each set of pillars is placed a statue of the king and at the gateway to the processional way that leads into the Amenhotep court I positioned, on each side of the entrance, enthroned colossi of Ramesses. Carved against the leg of one of these seated images is the figure of Queen Nefertari. Every pillar is deeply inscribed with images of the king and texts depict him making offerings to the gods of the kingdom.
Each of the thirty two statues of the king in the courtyard have him standing, with his left leg thrust forward, kilted, his torso and arms muscular, wearing the different crowns used to identify him as pharaoh - the white crown of Upper Egypt with the uraeus, the red crown of Lower Egypt, the double crown of the united kingdom, the blue kepresh crown and the nemes headdress with the symbols of Wadjet and Nekhbet. On every image, he wears the beard, the further symbol of pharaonic status. The faces of Ramesses are finely carved, his eyes clear and steadfast, his nose firm and straight and his sensuous lips chiselled with a slight smile. In his hands he holds, variously, a mace, crook, staff or the royal flail.
The work at Karnak and Luxor took years to complete and the king relished inspecting progress when he was in Thebes. As each year passed and the pillars, pylons and statues rose up, his pleasure increased. None who saw the monuments could fail to be impressed with the grandeur of the buildings and the overwhelming regal power they project.
Just his presence filled me with the inspiration to build on an immense scale. His images are all larger than life and his name and deeds are inscribed on every square cubit. None can question his devotion to our gods as there was no deity in the cosmology he did not portray himself with in his quest to magnify their importance. His own importance, as the earthly embodiment of divine authority, was not neglected.
The monument Ramesses commissioned at Luxor effectively doubled the size of the temple and it is easy to distinguish the original structure commissioned by Amenhotep and the Ramesside edifice. The former, whilst it speaks boldly of the divinity of Amenhotep, is overwhelmingly a centre of veneration to Amun-Re. The works of Ramesses speak volumes about the adoration of the king and the god as a meeting of equals. At the time I was building the new additions, I secretly thought Ramesses was over-reaching and vainglorious though years later I must concede the veracity of the union between the mortal person of the king and the gods he immortalised in stone.
When I think back to the days when Ramesses declared his divinity and his mission, I can almost believe my own path in life as his builder was also touched by the gods.