The tomb of King Siptah is the classic example, as the burial chamber was completely excavated into shale. There are no side chambers leading off it, indicating the builders may have decided not to proceed with further extensions due to the unsuitability of the material. Just before the chamber, a short narrow passage was quarried in a possible attempt to regain limestone until the masons inadvertently cut into the side of KV32 and had to return to the original axis. I thought it likely tomb architects, after hitting shale, continued to quarry and brought in the plasterers to cover up the friable surfaces on which decorations were to be painted. Presumably, it took a brave man to inform the pharaoh he had encountered a problem after so much effort had been expended in excavating the upper levels.
Jean-Claude d’Argent’s endeavour was considerably more onerous than ours, as we had the distinct advantage of being able to work without the severe and necessary limitations imposed by conservation, whereas he and his colleagues were excavating and preserving, whilst attempting to stabilise KV7.
Naturally, as soon as we brought our teams into the Valley, it was only a matter of days before we met. The scientific community working there are all eager to share information, discuss techniques and lend a hand with problems that required fresh insights. Our project was the subject of considerable interest and during field research my staff was willingly assisted by our colleagues. Due to earlier commitments, I hadn’t encountered Jean-Claude before the survey began so I was looking forward to meeting the man who was tackling one of the most difficult tombs. We were setting up our base within Siptah’s tomb when a tall, lean man came bounding down the steps into our work area. In his mid-fifties, he sported a neatly clipped beard, longish black hair and wore the clothes of a professional excavator - heavy boots, faded, torn jeans and T-shirt.
“I am looking for Dennis Dunlop.” he enquired with a strong French accent.
“Dennis Dunlop at your service and I would guess you are the famous Monsieur Jean-Claude d’Argent?” I responded, stretching my hand out in greeting. “Famous, non! Jean-Claude d’Argent, mais oui!” We shook hands and I introduced him to my team members.
“I have looked forward to meeting you ever since your project was approved as you have certainly selected some problematic tombs. Did these clever Egyptian devils dig around in their filing cabinets for the most difficult tombs and foist them on an unsuspecting Englishman? Just why Queen Hatshepsut built the piece of madness you wish to play in I do not know. Possibly she liked rock skiing? This tomb, he indicated with a sweep of his hands, is at least easier to work with, even if the rock at the end has all the structural stability of a chocolate éclair!”
This from a man who was grappling with a restoration every sensible archaeologist had walked away from. He told us of his background, which was more oriented towards archaeology than mine. He graduated from the Sorbonne with a Master’s Degree in History, took up a tutorial position in the Department of Antiquities and had undertaken expeditions to Bahrain, Iran and Iraq before moving to Egypt. He worked in the Valley during the winter months and returned to the university in summer to lecture and write up his research notes.
Jean-Claude impressed me as a determined and intelligent researcher with a passionate commitment to his discipline. His English was fluent and as, I had a word or two of French, our conversation flowed without difficulty and we spent an hour discussing our projects. He had to get back to KV7 but asked if I could come over to the tomb in a few days as he sought my opinion on certain matters relating to the structure. I suspect he wanted me to see what he and his associates had accomplished and was extending professional courtesy to a new colleague. He left with a promise from us that we would call in as soon as practical.
Early one morning, Richard and I sauntered over to KV7, which is not far from Siptah’s tomb. The air was still cool, none of the tourist coaches had, as yet, arrived and the only noise came from guards and workmen engaged in desultory conversation over coffee. Since the terrorist attack, the government had stationed heavily armed policemen throughout Luxor, Karnak, Deir el-Bahari and both valleys. Whilst it was, to some degree, comforting to know we worked under armed protection, it was yet another example of the sorry state certain parts of the world have slipped into in recent times.
We introduced ourselves to the policeman on guard, who called out to Jean-Claude. He emerged from the tomb’s entrance, greeted us with affection, asked if we needed some real coffee and perhaps a croissant to start our day in a civilised fashion and led us to the field office just outside the entrance where an area had been fenced off and site buildings erected. Air conditioners hummed in the background and I noted heavy cables extending into the tomb from a generator in the engineering shed. The office walls were covered with plans of the tomb, all heavily over-written with measurements and brief notations. Computers, empty coffee cups, ashtrays and files cluttered tables and the office was crammed with cabinets. It was gratifying to see the French team paid the same lack of attention to an orderly workplace as did our people.
Jean-Claude explained. “We are following a conventional project plan. In the rooms and corridors with no need of conservation, our structural engineers stabilise the walls and ceilings using techniques you would be familiar with. Elsewhere, our conservators visually inspect all surfaces for any remaining evidence of decoration. If anything is found, it is photographed in detail and copies made by our draughtsmen. When required, some very patient people work to re-attach flaking plaster where the rock is sufficiently solid to create a bond.”
“Unhappily, there is a trade-off between trying to preserve anything of a decorative nature with the engineer’s need to fit rock bolts and mesh. Inevitably, we lose some part of the decorative surface, but at least we have a record of what we may have to destroy. It can be heartbreaking watching the engineer’s drills biting into a three millennia old inscription and there is nothing attractive about metal fittings but they are a necessary evil.”
“The real challenge is excavating spaces filled with flood debris. Even though there are between seven and ten layers of debris, not many artefacts have been discovered, even at ground level. We employ Egyptians who understand careful pick-axe and shovel work as the clearing is painfully slow because the debris is set like concrete. When we strike a potentially valuable fragment, out come the finer tools of our profession. There are slabs of the original incised walls mixed in with debris and we try to recover as much as we can but it is très difficile. As we clear towards the margins, the issues become more problematic as certain large wall sections are breaking away from the rock matrix and we are forced to call in our structural men.”
“We all spent a lot of time worrying about the integrity of ceilings, especially as the limestone here is not as solid as it is in most of the other tombs. I do not know why the builder even started here or why he did not stop after seeing the nature of the rock, and make a fresh start somewhere else. I doubt the rock has changed its structure in the past three millennia and he must have worked with the same poor quality material we are trying to stabilise.”
I said “I should imagine a builder having to tell pharaoh he had made a mistake would have been a big call, especially if the king made the site selection himself. However, we believe the masons did not have the problems we both experience as Richard doubts the newly quarried limestone would not have been anywhere as fractured as it is now. By cutting into the virgin formation, masons unknowingly exposed the rock to novel forces, like compression stress and, definitely, water erosion.”
“I possibly agree with that. Add a few seismic events, several floods and the ceilings became a dangerous proposition.”
Richard advanced his pet theory. “Yes, but I think there is more to it. Egyptian limestone is pretty much the same throughout the country and I suspect that, when the builder opened this section, he did not find anything vastly different from what any of the other tomb builders found. Look at all the monuments scattered around Egypt. They are al
most exclusively fashioned in limestone and they are not breaking up. At various times, they have all been saturated with rainwater but this did not cause the de-lamination we see in the tombs. Make an assumption. This tomb fills with water saturated debris. How long before it dries out?”
“Perhaps weeks or even months depending on the season. I can ask a geologist for a more definitive answer.”
“Therein may lie the answer to why KV7 is so badly damaged. It has a wide entrance, a ninety degree bend at the antechamber with half the tomb quarried down below it. There are multiple internal pier walls behind which lay the four lowest storerooms. I believe that repeated cycles of water and slow moisture evaporation lead to rock failure. Vast amounts of water poured in at various times, soaked into the existing seams and saturated the limestone for months before slowly evaporating. Whilst it was drying out, the limestone may have even steamed. The long term combination led to significant rock failure and voila. A little nightmare developed, awaiting your talents.”
“Eh bien! I will speak to a geologist to evaluate your theory.”
We finished our coffee and croissants. Jean-Claude suggested we have a look at what was going on inside the tomb, so we donned hard hats and made for the entrance. A long corridor with a double set of steps divided by a ramp led to the first gate, which had beam holes cut into it to house heavy wooden baulks placed across the passageway. Ropes, wrapped around the beams, controlled the descent of the sarcophagus as it slid down the central ramp. Passing though the gate, we entered the second sloping corridor which started out flat then reverted to split stairs, with another central ramp and more beams holes. The stairway continued through another gate and the next corridor inclined downwards before reaching a third gate and another corridor.
Jean-Claude pointed out one unusual feature - the placement of the original doors. In the majority of similar tombs, doors all swung outwards. With the exception of one gate, which had supported very heavy outward swinging wooden doors, all the other, long gone, doors had swung inwards towards the burial chamber. We came to the well shaft. Jean-Claude said “It is about six metres deep and around four metres square. We bridged it with planks to allow access to the rest of the tomb.” As we walked down, Jean-Claude pointed out the remnants of painted reliefs on the walls, which were ill defined as water and plaster de-lamination had taken a terrible toll on the decorations.
About a third the way down the length of the tomb, there is the so-called Chariot Room with its partially excavated small annexes. A divided stairway and ramp bisects the chamber, the floor was flat and the stairway flanked by two sets of pillars abutting the corridor. Debris had not been removed from behind the pillars and the walls were still largely obscured. Taking a detour, we scrambled over the debris and entered the second pillared chamber which remained untouched as there were questions about the structural integrity of the four piers supporting the ceiling. Behind it, a narrow doorway gave access to an even smaller room still filled with compacted debris.
“We have years of work ahead of us in these side chambers and I still have not decided whether it’s worth the effort. I am sure there is little of value in any of the rooms and they are, as you see, badly damaged.”
We returned to the main axis. At the end of the stairs, cut through the first pillared chamber, there is a very long double passageway. Slabs of limestone had fallen off the walls and the ceiling was reinforced with rock bolts and plates. The corridor led to the antechamber, where the tomb’s axis swung ninety degrees to the right. The walls, originally decorated with scenes from the Book of the Dead, evidence considerable surface damage with only remnants of the reliefs left. Throughout the tomb, men and women were engaged in photographing, copying inscriptions and images, restoring decorated surfaces and, of course, the ubiquitous engineers.
We entered the lower level and, despite my reading of the tomb’s condition,I was ill prepared for what lay before me. It was obvious the room had been cleared but the degree of rock failure was incredible. I looked at Jean-Claude, who could see I was perplexed.
“Mon ami, you should have seen this whole area before we started. In front of us is the sarcophagus room. It was almost two thirds full of debris with large jagged rocks, that had fallen from the ceiling, lying on the debris field. We couldn’t identify the screen walls or pillars and access to the rear chambers was just about impossible. My reaction, when I first came down here, was to walk away from the project as the destruction was so extensive. I thought ‘C’est impossible’ but what can one do? Let me walk you through the eleven rooms in the burial complex. We came in through a short narrow annexe behind us. To the right and left, there are two small storerooms and the wall behind us had five window-like apertures cut through it into the vault we are standing in.”
“Come over here to the middle of the chamber, as you will get a better perspective. The vaulted roof is six metres high at its peak, the room measures about fourteen metres square and, at the northern end, five apertures were cut, leaving four square pillars, most of which have collapsed. See at the end the remains of a stone bench? Behind it and to the left there is another small room.”
“In the vault, we found pieces of a calcite sarcophagus, very similar to Seti’s, which we suspect lay on a sculpted limestone bed. We recovered two painted lioness heads carved in limestone, which were part of a stone bed which bears a striking similarity to the complete example over in Merenptah’s tomb. There were some calcite fragments of a viscera chest originally set in a recess in the sunken floor. However, our greatest find was the blue marble figurine of Ramesses I sent up to the Cairo Museum. Apart from this little item, our collection is somewhat devoid of artefacts, all of which point to a comprehensive stripping of the tomb’s contents. As it has always been open, whatever the robbers missed was probably stolen by souvenir hunters until the first flooding buried the floor here.”
“The first robbery was during the reign of Ramesses III. Is that correct?” I asked.
“Oui, there is a papyrus documenting an attempted burglary fifty-nine years after the tomb was sealed. I find it unbelievable such an event occurred, although, Ramesses III was only two years away from his assassination and possibly the administration of the Valley was inadequate at the time. It is assumed the major pillage took place at the same time as the other tombs were robbed. The king’s mummy was moved to Seti’s tomb, then to WN-A and finally to DB320. Have you noticed the degree of savage destruction of some tomb artefacts?”
“Yes, I have thought about the reasons behind such wanton ruination. Robbers would have had to smash open a sarcophagus to get access to the coffins as the solid gold coffins would have been too heavy to lift out manually. I understand why they chopped gilt foils off coffins and funerary equipment and left the timber shell behind but that does not account for stone or ceramics being shattered. It’s not hard work to lift a viscera vessel out of its stone case. Why smash the case? I will discuss my theories with you over dinner one night.”
“I look forward to the dinner, Dennis, as I also have some thoughts on the rationale behind the vandalism. Let us continue. Behind the vaulted chamber, there are two almost identical rooms which may have been shrine rooms. Both have two pillars and stone benches. Through the eastern wall of one room, there is a narrow doorway leading to a square room devoid of pillars or benches. Off that, there is the last suite of rooms in the tomb, one slightly larger than its precursor. Two pillars supported the ceiling and it had wide stone benches on three of its walls. Eight subsidiary rooms, all of which were decorated, were apparently dedicated to the storage of royal possessions and shrines. One appears to have been for the storage of viscera jars as the figures of Isis and Nephthys flank the doorway even though there was a floor niche for a viscera chest in the main vault. We have a lot more excavation to do in these annexes.”
All the lower rooms suffered from extensive water damage and the walls and ceilings evidenced compression and stress cracking. Jagged stumps are all that remain
ed of most pillars and there was scant evidence of what would have been spectacular wall decorations. Everywhere, the plaster originally applied to the surfaces had either de-laminated or was close to flaking off. In all, a very tragic place but the majesty of the structure is still overwhelming. After KV5, KV7 was the largest tomb in the Valley. It must have looked stunning when it was finished if compared to those of his father and his wife, Queen Nefertari. It is difficult to visualise now but it would have blazed with colour and lavish imagery.
The ceiling in the vaulted burial chamber was probably decorated in the same style as his father’s tomb, with the heavens in blue and constellations of stars, astronomic texts and rows of deities. Originally, the crypt had images of the king in the company of the principal deities amidst texts from all the Books of the Dead. The Egyptians called the burial chamber ‘The House of Gold’ and Ramesses’ must have been a tour de force of the artist’s skills.
Tomb painters had a limited range of colours. Black paint made from carbonised bones, ground chalk produced white, red came from haematite and ochre, yellow was a natural oxide, blue from a mixture of copper, iron and sand burnt together and green from a similar but more oxidised base blended with some white and yellow paint. Whilst their palette may have been restricted, the artists created some of the most vibrant and powerful images of the Ancient World.
The Golden Falcon Page 31
