Prince Khaemwaset assumed the honour of organising his father’s jubilee, the Heb-Sed Festival, though he was having difficulties in identifying the ceremonial ritual.
Since the reunification of Upper and Lower Egypt almost 240 inundations ago ago only two kings had reigned long enough to celebrate a Heb-Sed Festival. Tuthmosis III ruled fifty-four years and Amenhotep III for thirty-eight but he died sixty-three years before Ramesses accession to the throne, so the liturgy attending their jubilee celebrations was somewhat vague. At the Ramesseum, Bakenkhons scanned ancient scrolls seeking an order of service, and for Khaemwaset’s private benefit, the original reason for a jubilee commemoration. There were moments when Bakenkhons wondered why the prince did not move from Memphis, assign himself a permanent room in the library and live in the temple at Luxor as endless copies of scrolls were despatched from the House of Life to the Temple of Ptah in response to yet another request for information from him.
For a king to rule for thirty years was a rare achievement, so rare it signified, to his subjects, an unusual bond between pharaoh and the deities. For most Egyptians, thirty inundations was literally a lifetime as the majority endured a short, hard life before an early death. A king who triumphed over the normal span of years embodied tangible evidence of the enduring benevolence of the gods.
The majority of a king’s subjects had little knowledge of the lives of previous rulers and, if they saw anything at all of the existence of the pharaoh or past rulers, it was in the heritage of the monuments they built. They had scant knowledge of earlier kings as they had no access to books or schools because the gift of education was restricted to priests, scribes and the few apprenticed to professional men. All else was word of mouth, fables, legends and monuments. I have in my own archive a short note from a scribe, in which he wrote ‘I have never seen a sculptor sent as an emissary or a bronze founder leading a mission.’ Whilst an arrogant statement, it correctly attests to the extent of learning in the kingdom.
A wise ruler was aware of his subject’s ignorance and could take advantage of their naivety. Ramesses was a master of this game. Aside from the temples he commissioned, he decreed every town and village throughout the land receive a tablet commemorating his rule. Quarries were permanently engaged in satisfying an endless stream of orders from my hand, cutting and inscribing stellae for despatch to provincial governors, who arranged their delivery to even the most remote habitations.
Early tablets, embellished with grandiose statements dictated by Ramesses, made much of the battle of Qadesh. He laid emphasis on the intimacy of his relationship with the gods and his many acts of respectful adoration after inflicting a crushing defeat upon the Hittite hordes. As construction of temples accelerated, the inscriptions on new stellae reflected upon Ramesses’ role as a magnificent builder and venerator of the gods and, it was not unusual, over time, to find two or more tablets in even quite insignificant settlements.
One morning in his jubilee year, he arrived at my office with an armful of papyrus scrolls in his arms. He laid them on a table and proceeded to unfurl a few. I stopped working on some papers, clapped my hands and called for refreshment.
“Your Master has been busy, Lord Sennefer. Come and give me your opinion. What do you think?”
He had drawn, in his own hand, a complete series of new images and inscriptions to be engraved upon yet another issue of tablets. Each papyrus, entitled with a provincial name and lists of towns and settlements therein, defined a particular subject and the deities relevant to the region nominated. There were even papyri covering Egypt’s client states.
I was vested with the sacred responsibility of ensuring the accuracy of images and religious inscriptions that adorn all royal commissions from the grandest temple down to the simplest plaque. To assist my office in this most complex task, I was guided by a beautiful and ancient set of papyri, The Scrolls of the Divine. It is not known which holder of the office compiled these revered texts but they are the most treasured documents in my office. Scribes were engaged in making copies because many of the papyri were of great antiquity and fragile. They bore the signs of much consultation as the fullness of the panoply of our deities is bewildering to the uninitiated.
The kingdom’s principal deities, Amun, Ptah and Re, are the national gods. However, each could combine with other deities, such as Amun-Re or Re-Hakarthy. They are depicted in images specific to an occasion, building or region. Attending the principal deities in the cosmology are a host of gods and goddesses, each fulfilling a vital role. Lesser gods may be worshipped more deeply in particular regions and certain deities are unknown outside their cult centre.
Strict conventions govern the relative size of icons and these rules permit or prohibit the image of a king being bigger or smaller than the figures he is associated with in any depiction. The Scrolls describe, in finely executed paintings, each god and goddess in every possible presentation or relationship and define suitable accompanying texts appropriate to all situations. Rarely did we have call upon the Temple of Amum for an interpretation to warrant no deity was offended by our ignorance. These matters were of such import, I employed an ensemble of scribes to draft depictions before chisel touched stone. Their drawings were despatched to the Temple for authentication by a sem priest well versed in this esoteric discipline and only his imprimatur would permit my office to instruct artisans to begin their work.
I could not fault the king’s knowledge of regional deities as he studied this subject with great care and his interest in such matters made the work of my scribes less taxing. In the past he had drawn, in exact detail, what he wished depicted in the decorations of every major work he commissioned. Woe betide any scribe who wrongly corrected the king’s work as his temper could burn very hot and scorch the cheek of he who was in error. I remember well the time a sem priest had rightfully reduced the scale of the image of the king in relation to an icon of Amun. Ramesses summoned the priest to my office and made it clear in crisp tones that he, the pharaoh, brother of Amun, knew how he should be represented in the company of the gods. The priest fled in terror after much grovelling and offers of apology.
I cast my eyes over each of the papyri, smiled and said “Your modesty becomes you, Ramesses. However, you seem to have missed the temple you commissioned at Sile in the eastern Delta and there is a small shrine I remember you ordered built at the diorite quarry west of Aswan. Surely, there is room on this papyrus for mention of that work?” I pointed to the roll covering the Aswan region.
He returned my smile. “Osiris must again note your irreverence, Sennefer. Why must you behave like a flea biting my crotch? I labour at my desk for many months to prepare these exquisite scrolls and you immediately find some insignificant error. My other officials would fawn all over me, praising the beauty of my work and commenting favourably on my undoubted knowledge. You are fortunate we enjoy times of peace, otherwise I would consider composing another decree about those desert fortifications we discussed many, many years ago.”
“Ah, Ruler Most Divine, you are only to point to which royal sandal I must kiss and, instantly, my head will be lower than the belly of an asp.”
“Lord Amun, give me some respite from this irreverent pest. You, of all people, understand the importance of my subjects knowing they have a king who labours for them. These new plaques are the only method whereby my people know what I do, what I build and how the gods, through me, bring peace, harmony and prosperity to the kingdom.”
“Ramesses, I am aware of the need and I mean not to question your wisdom or the import of this matter but perhaps a few less words and more images might be better?” I observed somewhat dryly. “Most of your subjects cannot read and many of the tablets destined for more remote areas may be meaningless unless some passing scribe can read the inscriptions to the inhabitants.”
He paused, consulted some of the papyri, took pen in hand and made some changes. He seemed momentarily offended, as he slashed at the rolls with some force but he soon calmed himself.
“You are correct again. Forgive my anger - I have forgotten that you frequent low river taverns and, with ease, consort with the peasantry as equals. I have made such a habit of displaying anger in the presence of so much of the foolishness that surrounds my administrative life, I forget to acknowledge the truth when it stares me in the face. Please make any changes you wish to this pile as I know you best apprehend my desires. Nevertheless, your impudence must not go unpunished. Possibly some act of divine intervention may cause you to learn a modicum of respect for your sovereign, although I believe even Osiris expresses despair at the slowness of your learning. See, even your smile mocks my authority. It is my command you immediately collect your hunting equipment and accompany me as we seek out another lion to kill this fine afternoon. The pallor on your cheeks indicates you sit too long at your table and the beams from Re’s solar barque need to touch your face.”
The jubilee presented Ramesses with yet another opportunity to trumpet his achievements so he had entrusted Khaemwaset with the task of organising the events surrounding the Heb-Sed festival whilst he created imperial flourishes to garnish the festivities. The deaths of his three older brothers had raised the prince’s status to that of heir apparent and he was recently elevated from sem priest to high priest of Ptah in Memphis. A consummate administrator and man of deep religious learning made the prince the most appropriate person to arrange the year-long celebration. The sacred rituals would be conducted under the benevolence of Ptah-Tatenen, a twinned deity of Memphite origin, though the more secular festivities would be at Pi-Ramess, a far more convivial city than the other major centres, which were redolent of religiosity.
Khaemwaset sent forth emissaries six months before the beginning of the jubilee year to ensure none were unaware of the festival. He commissioned new stellae proclaiming the Heb-Sed Festival and again a small army of masons applied chisels to stone. Invitations were addressed to the kingdom’s nobility and, in due course, Ipi and I received ours. We were enjoined to present ourselves in Memphis to attend the temple services before journeying to Pi-Ramess for a week of more informal gatherings. Whilst I arranged the management of my office during my absence Ipi, having consulted her wardrobe, felt compelled to again lighten my purse declaring, in the nature of all women, she had nothing suitable to wear. I no longer queried such remarks as I was many years married and knew the futility of discussing this matter logically.
Some months later we embarked, with many servants and chests, for the voyage to Memphis. Under Khaemwaset’s hand, the city had been cleaned, buildings made resplendent in new paint, flag poles flew brightly coloured pennants specially commissioned for the Festival and the streets thronged with visitors. Unhappily, Ipi’s parents had both recently died but her sister, brother and his wife still lived there and we enjoyed a joyous family re-union before the start of formal ritual.
The anniversary of the day when Ramesses first placed the crown upon his head heralded the start of the festival. Large crowds massed outside the temple and, with some difficulty, the king made his progress from the palace to the interior courtyard where the nobility and foreign emissaries awaited his arrival. Ramesses rode in a chariot of gold foiled wood drawn by four white horses, their heads resplendent with red ostrich plumes. Behind him paraded the princes, also regally attired. At the steps leading to the inner sanctuaries, he was greeted by Prince Khaemwaset, attired in the full regalia of the high priest. Temple priestesses shook their sistrums whilst priests scattered petals around the king’s feet. Chantresses sang hymns to accompany his entrance to the sanctuaries and then silence descended on the assembled gathering. None but the king could enter the most holy chapels to commune with his divine family.
Ramesses emerged from the sanctum, face upturned and arms outstretched. He held the hequat or crook in his right hand and the nekhakha, the flail in the other. On his head the blue kepresh crown, round his neck, a Horus collar in gold, red jasper, turquoise and lapis-lazuli, a pectoral of gold cloisonné inlaid with glass and semi-precious stones in the form of a falcon with sun disc adorned his chest, on his arms golden bracelets, his fingers encrusted with golden rings and his feet shod in gilded sandals. At his waist, suspended from a belt of finely worked gold filigree, hung a dagger with jewelled handle and sheath and his lower body was robed in a dazzling white pleated kilt. He held the pose for some minutes, moving only to allow the sun’s rays to strike his ornaments. His audience, overwhelmed by the grandeur of his finery and bearing, fell to their knees in adulation, foreheads touching the ground.
Here, in the magnificence of the pharaoh, was the embodiment of our empire, our culture and Egypt’s power. He radiated all we valued as sacred and standing there, framed by the pillars of the temple, none could doubt his divinity. The rays from the solar barque blazed on his jewellery and were reflected towards the heavens. He broke the silence with a command.
“Arise, my people.”
We stood, cheering with a mighty uplifting of voices. Setting aside the emblems of kingship, he strolled amongst those who attended him offering greetings and thanks. The princes followed as he made his progress towards the passage through the pylon fronting the temple as we made our way to an enclosure reserved for the nobility. Ramesses, a master of presentation, held back momentarily before making his appearance. A throne of gilded and jewelled wood, flanked by Royal Guards, was set upon a dais on the terrace. When we were settled, the procession of royal children emerged from the inner courtyard. Heralded by a fanfare of trumpets, the king strode through the pylon, mounted the terrace, stood again with out-swept arms and accepted the thunderous adulation of his subjects who cheered and wept as they beheld their pharaoh. He took his throne and indicated silence with his hand.
“People of Egypt. I am fresh from the shrines of Ptah, Amun, Re, Horus, Osiris, Isis, Seth, Thoth, Hathor, Maat and their brother and sisters. Together we spoke of my thirty years as your pharaoh. To each god and goddess, I offered my thanks and adoration and they in their turn offered me, as their son on earth, their thanks and blessings. We spoke not as master and servant but as equals as I am as one with the gods. You see about you a land at peace, a land of prosperity, a land where no part has failed to receive the benediction of my intercession with the gods on behalf of those I rule.” He rose from his throne, arms outspread, adornments ablaze, and thundered.
“I, Ramesses, am the ruler of the world and beholden to none. I have crushed under the wheels of my chariot those who sought to threaten my power. The deserts sands ran red with their blood and vultures feasted upon their stinking corpses. Nations tremble at a whisper of my name. To honour my brothers and sisters in the heavens, I have caused the mightiest of monuments to be raised up from the Great Sea to the end of the known world in the south. Through me, the gods have blessed my kingdom with justice, harmony and peace.”
Lowering his voice, he bestowed a smile upon his people. “Today is a day of great celebration. Today, we rejoice in the bounty of the gods. Go forth and enjoy the fruits of my rule.”
The crowd roared its approval and moved to feast upon tables laden with food and emmer beer from the royal kitchens. The king and princes left the terrace and returned to the inner courtyard, where tables had been set up for noblemen, foreign dignitaries and their wives. Ramesses and Khaemwaset moved amongst the diners, accepting their personal endearments. Late in the afternoon, Ipi and I took our leave and returned to our quarters. In company with many of the nobility, we would soon leave for the voyage to Pi-Ramess. The king would be involved in another week of liturgical and State affairs before he departed to the north.
Next morning, Ipi and I sat savouring a leisurely breakfast on our suite’s terrace when Prince Merenptah arrived bearing an invitation to remain in Memphis as his father wished to spend some time visiting the pyramids along the Nile so the king enjoined us to accompany him and his sons. We would then take passage to Pi-Ramess with the royal fleet.
“My father asks if you would be so gracious as to accept an invitation to join him and my mother, Queen Isetnofret, as their guests at the palace for an extended vacation?” I replied we would be delighted to honour his father’s most gracious offer.
“Merenptah, will you stay a while and breakfast with us?” Ipi enquired.
“I am sorry but I must take my leave. The king has religious duties to undertake and tomorrow his time will be taken in official matters. I must join him in these affairs.”
He said the royal progress would stop at Heliopolis before branching off to the eastern arm of the Nile that led to Pi-Ramess, after our inspection of the pyramids and great sphinx at Giza and the lesser pyramids at Dashur and Saqqara, just south of Memphis.
Merenptah enquired “Ipi, have you seen the sun rising and casting its light over the great pyramids?”
“No, but it is something I have longed to see. My father commented on the spectacle a number of times but I was never fortunate enough to travel north of Memphis.”
“It is a dramatic vision everyone should see at least once in their lifetime. Sennefer, can I offer you the hospitality of the palace in Heliopolis for an evening? You have some days before the king is free to tour the royal necropolis. If you are uncommitted this afternoon I will make arrangements to have a vessel take you up river. Ipi, I assure you it is an experience you will long treasure.”
There was no possibility of refusing the invitation. If I had demurred, domestic bliss would have been dispelled for many months. We arrived at the palace just as the sun slipped below the horizon, silhouetting the three monoliths in the afterglow of the solar barque’s descent. The Heliopolis palace stood on a rise overlooking the city and our suite presented a vista over the river and desert to where the pyramids stood, now lost in the thickening darkness.
Next morning, my man servant woke us early, prepared a light breakfast and served us on our veranda as I wanted Ipi to see the pyramids bathed in the first rays of the sun. The river was still clothed in a swirling, chill mist that eddied up onto the fringes of its banks in soft white clouds. At first nothing could be seen to the west save the sharp points of star light surrounding Nun’s arched body yielding to the fire of the ascending orb behind us.
From the darkness three brooding shapes emerged, subtly becoming more distinct as the soft glow of dawn drove the ebony from the sky. On the plateau, the pyramids changed from a vague greyness, then pearly white and finally unburnished gold as Re banished the last vestiges of night from the heavens. The electrum coated pyramidions crowning the apex of each pyramid blazed like beacons when the full force of the sun’s rays struck them. Clearly etched against an azure sky, they stood in solitary magnificence. The massive great pyramid of Khufu, the slightly smaller pyramid of Khafre and, just to the south, the pyramid of Menkaure, were, with their mortuary temples, queens pyramids and nobles tombs attendant at their feet, mirrored in the floodwaters spread out almost to the foot of the high ridge that bore their grandeur.
“They are unbelievably beautiful.” breathed Ipi “I had no idea just how truly spectacular they are.”
“Wait until we cross the river and approach them, my love. Our king builds on a mighty scale but nothing, absolutely nothing in the kingdom comes near their overwhelming might. Khufu’s pyramid is over 146 metres high and its base measures 215 metres along each side. By comparison, the granite statues at the Ramesseum mortuary temple stand nineteen metres tall and weigh 1,000 tonnes each. I estimate the weight of stone in Khufu’s pyramid at five million tonnes - a figure verging on the unimaginable. The kings who envisaged these structures and built them were the greatest builders the world has seen, not that would I ever say that in front of the King.”
“I stood one morning with the king, as we now stand, watching this scene unfolding in the dawning sky. He wept openly and without shame. When he calmed himself, I asked why he wept. This was at the time work had begun on his mortuary temple and the temple at Luxor. His monument at Abu Simbel was well advanced and he was expanding his vast building plans. The king’s reply was enigmatic. He said the gods had not given him the determination to build such a temple of devotion to them. He has surpassed any previous pharaoh in the number of monuments dedicated to the gods but in his heart, when he looks upon this vista, Ramesses believes he will never equal what these three little known kings achieved in their lifetimes.”
“He was slightly mollified by the knowledge the pyramids are nothing more than tombs, very large tombs but they were not temples to the gods. Buried within those millions of tonnes of stone are the bodies of three kings which will remain untouched by human hands and this knowledge now irks him. It is only recently he discovered that the tombs of many rulers of the past have crumbled into dust and the bodies they held are lost or destroyed. With this knowledge in mind, he commanded me to build a fortress for his and Queen Nefertari’s remains. Now he strives for the immortality of his body to the same extent Khufu, Khafre and Menkaure achieved in their great stone mausoleums.”
“My husband, the king could not have entrusted this matter to a better man. You are more gifted than the architects who designed the pyramids. Yes, they are imposing statements in stone and impressive, almost overpowering but what you build has dignity and grace. My father told me, before you asked for my hand, that you would rise to be the greatest architect in the history of the kingdom. Your monuments will be spoken off and admired until the end of time.”
“Enough of this praise, my little beauty. My head will swell more than is seemly in a mere mortal. The day is before us and I will show you the sights of Heliopolis. When you see the temple here that bears my signature, perhaps I will allow you to offer up more fulsome praise of your husband - as a good wife should.”
The look I received caused me to think we should not waste the luxurious bed gracing our apartment. It seemed that there are some small rewards for knowing how to put one stone on another.