Egypt was no exception to this general rule, and it is no coincidence that the goddesses Isis and Nephthys were strongly connected with both the rites of birth (acting as midwives) and death (divine mourners). As there was no Dynastic equivalent of our hospital system to remove the sick from their home environment, nursing became the duty of the women of the household. Under these intimate circumstances no member of the family could hope to avoid contact with the dying or recently dead and, indeed, most women would expect, throughout their lives, to assist at the deathbeds of close relations. Death was therefore neither an abstract nor a sanitized concept to the Egyptian woman. It was a simple fact of life, albeit one to be avoided as far as possible by the appropriate use of prayers, amulets and charms.
Rise up, O Teti. Seize your head and collect up your bones. Gather your limbs together and shake the dust from your flesh. Take your bread which will never rot and your beer that will never sour, and stand before the gateway that excludes the common people. The gatekeeper comes out to you. He takes you by the hand and leads you into heaven, into the presence of your father, Geb.
Speech from the Pyramid Texts of the Old Kingdom Pharaoh Teti
Although death was inevitable it was not necessarily final. Throughout the Dynastic period the Egyptians retained a firm belief in the possibility of life after death, a belief which had a deep influence upon the development of both art and architecture. This belief slowly evolved through time, so that the dying of the Archaic Period held a very different set of expectations from their Late Period descendants. During the Old Kingdom, it was widely accepted that only the king would be able to pass on to a new world outside the tomb, becoming himself a god and living with the other gods. He achieved his transformation by one of three main routes: by travelling with the sun god, Re, in his solar boat, by being reborn as an undying or circumpolar star, or by becoming identified with Osiris, the god of the dead. The spirits of less exalted Egyptians could also continue to exist after death, but they were forced to dwell in close proximity to the body interred in its tomb or grave – a belief which led the upper classes to build the largest and most comfortable tombs possible. After all, no one would wish to live for all eternity confined to an uncomfortably cramped and dirty pit-grave.
Gradually, following the collapse of central authority at the end of the Old Kingdom, many of the hitherto exclusively royal religious prerogatives were taken over by the ordinary people. As a result, survival in the next world for everyone during the Middle Kingdom depended on the identification of the deceased, male and female alike, with the dead Osiris. Now everyone was eligible to become a subject in the Netherworld, the kingdom of Osiris which was a direct counterpart to the living world ruled by the pharaoh, the living Horus. This rather restricted image of heaven slowly expanded to become the New Kingdom Afterlife, the ‘Field of Reeds’ or the ‘Field of Offerings’; a land of pleasure and plenty again ruled by Osiris. This Afterlife was an almost exact replica of earthly rural life but was much, much better. Here the crops grew taller, the cattle grew fatter and the fish in the river simply begged to be caught. The residents were all young, fit and attractive as, dressed in clean white linen and adorned with sparkling jewels, they enjoyed mouthwatering meals in a land where beer and wine flowed like Nile water. Life in the Field of Reeds was clearly very desirable. Unfortunately, admission to these delights was not automatic, nor could it be secured by living a virtuous or devout earthly life. Entrance to the Afterlife was by examination only, and there was a strict pass or fail system. Those who flunked got no second chance.
‘I will not let you enter through me,’ says the jamb of the door, ‘unless you tell me my name.’
‘Plumb-bob in the Place of Truth is your name.’
Extract from the New Kingdom Book of the Dead
After death the spirit of the deceased embarked upon a long and fantastic journey, voyaging through a surreal maze of halls, chambers and gates where he or she was repeatedly challenged by a series of intricate questions posed by either the gatekeepers or, more bizarrely, by the gates themselves. Those who safely negotiated this labyrinth entered before a tribunal of the gods where a strict viva voce examination allowed the traveller to make a series of formal speeches justifying his or her life: ‘I have given bread to the hungry and water to the thirsty, clothes to the naked and a boat to those who have no boat.’ As a final test the heart of the deceased was weighed in a balance against the feather which symbolized maat, in order that the gods might determine whether or not he or she was true of heart. Only those who triumphed over all these hazards could pass on to perpetual life in the Field of Reeds. Those who were found wanting were doomed to die a second, frightening and permanent, death.
Entry into the Afterlife was not, however, merely dependent upon good examination technique. As has already been noted, the Egyptians were an intensely practical people who preferred to leave nothing to chance. They therefore took care to equip their tombs with a complete set of those questions and answers which they knew would be posed on the journey after death, effectively providing themselves with a passport to the delights of the next world. As the gods did not disapprove of this rather blatant form of cheating, rebirth in the Field of Reeds became assured for the wealthy. During the Middle Kingdom, this guide to the Afterlife took the form of spells and incantations which had evolved from the Old Kingdom Royal Pyramid Texts, and which were either engraved or painted on the sides of the coffins. By the New Kingdom the deceased were provided with their own personalized copy of The Chapters of Coming Forth by Day, an illustrated papyrus scroll containing a lengthy collection of spells, rituals, questions and answers which is now known more familiarly as The Book of the Dead.5 Affluent members of society had their individual copy of The Book of the Dead custom-written, while the less wealthy purchased mass-produced male or female scrolls which had gaps left at appropriate intervals so that the correct name and titles could be inserted. Occasionally there were mix-ups, and several women were buried with scrolls which were originally written for men.
The following is the way in which they conduct their mourning and their funerals. On the death in any house of a man of consequence, forthwith the women of the family plaster their heads, and sometimes even their faces, with mud. Then, leaving the body indoors, they sally forth and wander through the city with their dress fastened by a band and their bosoms bare, beating themselves as they walk. All the female relations join in and do the same. The men too, similarly dressed, beat their breasts separately. When these ceremonies are over, the body is carried away to be embalmed.
Herodotus
The Egyptians were by no means the only people of the ancient world to envisage an Afterlife. Indeed, there is an almost universal reluctance to accept that death might be the absolute end of all things. However, they were the only people to believe that the survival of the physical remains of the deceased was a virtual prerequisite for the survival of the spirits or life-force. Two spirits, the Ka and the Ba, would be released from the body at death; the Ka stayed close to the corpse in the tomb while the Ba was free to leave the tomb in the form of a human-headed bird. At the same time a third and entirely different aspect of the soul embarked upon the lengthy journey to the Afterlife. Both the Ka and the Ba, however, needed to be able to return to the body. If the corpse was destroyed these spirits were also destroyed and there could be no further hope of continuing life, although in an emergency they could take up residence in a substitute body such as a statue or even an illustration on the tomb wall. It was this deeply held belief which led to the development of elaborate mortuary rituals, including mummification, which were all designed as a practical means of preserving the body for all eternity.
Ironically, it was those who tried hardest and paid the most to protect their bodies who faced the greatest threat of decomposition. The poorer people, who throughout the Dynastic periods continued to be buried without coffins in the simple graves of the desert cemeteries, became naturally desicca
ted in the hot sand and were relatively well-preserved in a lifelike, if somewhat shrivelled, form. It was the introduction of the wooden coffin and the wood- or brick-lined tomb – probably initially intended to protect the body from the grave filling – which stopped the direct contact between the corpse and the sand, trapping moisture in close proximity to the body and encouraging putrefaction. Unfortunately, both coffins and tombs soon became essential components of a fashionable burial; the tomb served as protection against robbers, as a storehouse for grave-goods and, most importantly, as the permanent home of the soul, while the coffin carried the vital spells necessary to bring the deceased back to life. The resulting decomposition of the deceased was obvious, and led to ingenious attempts to preserve the body in a recognizable form.
Mummification techniques improved throughout the Dynastic period so that, although at the start of the Old Kingdom the majority of the embalmed bodies continued to decay, by the middle of the New Kingdom most professional undertakers could produce a remarkably lifelike embalmed corpse. The earliest attempts at preserving the body failed because no attempt was made to remove the soft tissue; the semi-dried corpses were simply wrapped in linen bandages complete with their already decomposing internal organs. As the bodies treated in this way simply disintegrated, resin or plaster was used to harden the bandages – although the body within the wrappings quickly rotted the hard outer shell retained a fairly natural appearance. It was only during the 4th Dynasty that the undertakers started to experiment with the removal of the viscera and the drying and stuffing of the now empty body cavity. This experimentation continued until, by the 21st Dynasty, the art of mummification had reached its peak.
Herodotus tells us that the good New Kingdom undertakers offered a range of services to their clients. The most successful method, which was naturally the most expensive, required that the body have its brain and entrails physically removed before undergoing a lengthy period of desiccation in dry natron powder. The hollow body cavities were then filled with rags and resin packing and the entire corpse was carefully bandaged. The whole process took seventy days to complete. The less costly embalming methods were generally less effective. The ‘second’ class of treatment involved the injection of fluids to dissolve the soft parts of the body without cutting open the stomach, while:
… the third method of embalming, which is practised in the case of the poorer classes, is to clear out the intestines with a clyster and then let the body lie in natron for seventy days, after which it is at once given to those who come to take it away.
Herodotus
Once it had returned from its lengthy stay at the embalming house the neatly wrapped and sweet-smelling body was placed in a coffin to await a burial befitting the rank of the deceased. As in modern times, the funeral served as an immediately recognizable indication of social status; a ‘good’ funeral conferred great prestige on the family as well as serving as a respectful tribute to the departed. Therefore, although the majority of Egyptians had a relatively simple ceremony followed by interment in the local cemetery, wealthy families paid for the most elaborate and ostentatious funerary ritual that they could afford. Just as the Afterlife was originally open to the king alone, so the traditional Egyptian funeral developed for the exclusive use of the monarch before being gradually usurped by the nobility. This royal origin was never completely forgotten, and tomb illustrations which depict funerals often include pictures of offering bearers carrying royal regalia such as crowns and sceptres which were not literally appropriate to the status of the deceased.
Specific funerary practices varied at different times and in different parts of the country according to local traditions, although the underlying ideas remained constant. The deceased was escorted to his or her new home, magic was used to ensure that he or she could be re-born, and the tomb was then sealed against intruders. The full Theban funeral developed into a particularly lengthy ritual with four basic stages: the mourning on the east bank of the Nile, the journey across the river, the procession to the necropolis and the arrival at the tomb. Each stage had its own particular religious actions and spells and each was presided over by one of several male priests who played different roles in the identification of the departed with the dead Osiris. Nine male officials escorted the funeral cortège, and ceremonial male dancers greeted the procession at the door of the tomb. Here the vitally important ‘Opening of the Mouth’ ceremony was conducted, as the mouth of the mummy or its anthropoid coffin was touched by magical implements to restore the faculties of the deceased, allowing him or her to breathe and eat in the next life. The major female participants in this ritual were the djeryt, two women who travelled with the body representing Isis and Nephthys, the loyal sisters of Osiris who had assumed the form of kites to search for their brother’s dismembered remains. The role of the djeryt appears to have been entirely passive and their place was occasionally taken by large wooden models of women with wide protective bird’s wings in place of arms. The grieving family followed the funeral procession to the tomb, their numbers increased by groups of paid female mourners and the family servants who carried the furniture needed for use in the Afterlife.
The contemporary funeral rituals performed at the northern city of Memphis have left far less archaeological evidence for us to unravel. However, we do know that temporary booths or shelters were erected near to the tomb, and that these were used for the funeral feast which was attended by the mourners and priests. This was followed by a ritual known as the ‘smashing of the red pots’ when, as its name suggests, the vessels used at the feast were destroyed.
The first-born son of the departed had an important role to play at his parent’s funeral. Legend decreed that Horus, the loyal son and heir of Osiris, avenged his father’s murder and performed his funerary rites before acceding to the throne. Taking this precedent to its logical conclusion, the Egyptians came to believe that the person carrying out the burial rites would become the acknowledged heir of the deceased, to the extent that a man with a legally dubious claim to inherit could reinforce his position by performing the necessary ceremony; ‘let the possessions be given to him who buries’ was apparently valid Egyptian law. Egyptian kings were careful, therefore, to accord a fitting burial to their predecessor, not because of a sense of natural decency but out of a more practical desire to strengthen their claim to the throne. Although it was desirable that the funeral rites should be performed by a son, the duty could be delegated to a paid priest without the son losing his right to inherit, just as a deputy could subsequently be employed to care for the tomb and perform the necessary daily offerings to the deceased. It was also possible, though perhaps less desirable, for a daughter or wife to organize the funeral. This was clearly an expensive business; the funeral of Huy, a native of Deir el-Medina, was financed by his wife Iy who had to sell a house in order to raise the necessary capital. Fortunately Iy then recovered her investment by inheriting all her late husband’s property. By the Roman period the traditional funeral, including mummification, had become so costly that there could be considerable haggling within the family as to who exactly was expected to foot the bill. Some wills even included clauses explicitly stating that children had to pay for the funeral before they could receive any inheritance, while legal agreements between brothers and sisters, detailing exactly who would contribute what to the funeral expenses of a dead parent, were not uncommon.
His beloved wife who shares his estate, the Sole Royal Ornament, Priestess of Hathor, Demyosnai, good of speech. She who makes the offering of white bread, who pleases in every respect and who serves the heart in all that one could wish. The sister-of-the-estate, praised of Hathor, Lady of Dendera, Demyosnai.
From the Middle Kingdom funeral stela of the butler Merer
Only the more privileged members of society could afford to build elaborate stone-cut tombs, and it is not surprising that very few women occupied prestigious tombs in their own right. Tomb ownership accurately reflected the social climate, and
most women would have found it impossible to accumulate the wealth needed to pay for such a monument. Royal wives, mothers and daughters were often accorded a separate tomb close to that of the king but these burials, invariably far less imposing than the major tomb, should properly be seen as an extension of the king’s funeral-complex. Even where the two tombs are completely separate, and again separate from the royal mortuary temple, as in the New Kingdom Valleys of the Kings and Queens, it is difficult to decide whether the burial of the queen should be interpreted as an extension of the king’s burial-complex, as a separate monument reflecting the importance of the queen, or even as a separate monument reflecting the decreasing importance of the queen who was no longer worthy of burial with her husband.
Daughters of Isis - Joyce Tyldesley Page 26
