Lost Voices of the Nile: Everyday Life in Ancient Egypt

by Charlotte Booth

  Those who were not sentenced to death, hard labour or a beating may have been sent to prison. There are no extant buildings that were clearly prisons, but records indicate that prisoners were included in the grain rations at Deir el-Medina and the Turin Necropolis diary has a list of names with a grain allocation next to each one. Seven of the sixty-eight names have ‘prisoner’ written next to them. Six of the names are tomb robbers.49 Furthermore, there are texts which refer to confinement in the ‘Enclosure of the Necropolis’ or being ‘made to sit in the Enclosure’ as a punishment for theft, although whether this was private theft or state theft is uncertain. The short period of confinement – ‘spent 40 days sitting’ – would perhaps indicate it was a minor crime.

  The most compelling evidence is in the form of records referring to the Great Prison, which was an institution with many functions, including a store of legal documents, as well as the location of the court. Those found guilty of a crime could be held in the prison on a temporary basis while they awaited sentencing. It was also a holding area for those who had been conscripted and were awaiting information on the location they were expected to work.

  Conscription was not popular with the community; ‘The field worker cries out more than the guinea fowl. His voice is louder than that of a raven … When he returns home from marshes he is worn out, the corveé has wrecked him.’50 Due to the harshness of the corveé system people were not ready to volunteer freely, so it was made illegal to refuse to go when called and there were harsh penalties for deserting once on consignment. ‘An order was issued to the Great Prison … to release his [or her] people from the law-court and to execute him [or her] the law relating to one who deliberately absconds for six months.’51 This text makes it clear that once someone absconds from their site of conscription their family was taken and held hostage in order to exact pressure upon the deserter to return. Ideally the family would be released upon his return, although sometimes they were not and were included in his punishment. The punishment for deserting could be unduly harsh; ‘I found the royal servant Sobekemhab, who had run away, and handed him over to the prison for justice … he will be condemned to death.’52

  In ancient Egypt women had the same legal rights as men, although they did not necessarily exercise these rights as frequently. Prison lists show that fewer women were in prison than men, although the punishments received were the same.53 Women could bring an action of law against another person, bear witness to legal documents, be the executor of wills (see chapter nine) and be equal partners in legal contracts.54 Legal rights were attributed according to class rather than gender, and women owned property and could inherit and participate in business activities. All landed property was handed down from mother to daughter to ensure it remained in the family as paternity could be questioned but maternity could not. On some inscriptions men claimed ‘they were son of [mother’s name]’55 rather than their father’s name. Women who owned property were able to own and administer the land independently56 and during the Middle and the New Kingdoms women ran large estates alongside their husbands, although the Ramesside Wilbour Papyrus shows women only held 10.8 per cent of apportioned plots.

  Women sometimes owned and participated in business activities and were often depicted selling and buying goods at the market. In the eighteenth-dynasty tomb of Kenamun in Thebes a female merchant is depicted selling cloth and sandals at the market, and in the Tomb of Niankhkhnum and Khnumhotep at Saqqara (fifth dynasty) there is a port scene in which both men and women are trading57, indicating that women could buy and sell independently of the men of the household.58 In the twentieth-dynasty Tomb Robbery Papyri the wife of a tomb robber was asked where she got the money to buy slaves, to which she responded, ‘I bought them in exchange for produce from my garden.’59 While we have no way of knowing whether she was telling the truth, her answer was considered believable enough to be considered.

  An ostracon60 from Deir el-Medina lists a large number of things given to an individual woman and it has been suggested that she may have owned a shop or a storage place for things to be sold.61 Although it is clear that women were able to work and sell items at the market we do not know what percentage of the profits had to be given to her husband. Any property a woman owned when she got married remained hers rather than automatically passing into the hands of her husband, and she could own, lend, inherit and sell any of her property with the same freedom as if she were single. In 249 BCE a woman called Tay-Hetem took advantage of this situation and loaned her husband 3 deben of silver (273 grams) at a rate of interest of 30 per cent to be paid back within three years. This was the usual loan rate.62

  Upon her husband’s death a widow was entitled to inherit one-third of his property with the other two-thirds being divided between his children and siblings. Any property she owned before coming into the marriage and any she accumulated throughout the marriage was not taken into account when her husband’s goods were divided. However, a widow was often reliant on her family members to care for her should her husband have been less than wealthy. The Stato Civile Papyrus fragments in Turin show one elderly woman lived in her husband’s house but in a later record she had moved in with her son and daughter-in-law, presumably after the death of her husband. Any income a widow received was transferable, and a man records, ‘Now, as for the message you had sent about your mother stating she had died. You said “Let the wages that used to be issued to her be given to my sister, who has been a widow here for many years until today.” So you said, “Do so, give it to her until I return!”’63 This indicates that widows were often at the mercy of the charity of others. However, if a husband wanted his wife to inherit more than the standard third of his property he could leave her more in his will or divide it in life. To do this he needed to produce an imyt-pr, a land-transfer document. For example, in El-Lahun, Ankhren a minor government official left all his property and servants to one of his brothers, Wah. The document was stored in the records office and Wah made an inventory list of everything the imyt-pr included in order to make it clear what he was able to transfer to others as his property.64 Five years later Wah passed all the property to his wife Teti, which she could distribute as she wished, along with a house from which she could not be evicted.65 Another Middle Kingdom man did exactly the same thing by leaving his wife fifteen servants in his will when in life he had already given her sixty servants so they would not be distributed after his death to his children66, ensuring all sevety-five servants were passed onto her.

  When a woman died she could distribute her personal property in any way that she wanted and was able to disinherit her children if she deemed it necessary. It was not uncommon for women to write wills in order to ensure their children received their property after death. For example, the female choachyte (funerary priest) Tsenhor (see chapter six) had a contract drawn up in order to name her daughter Ruru as a beneficiary;

  To you (Ruru) belongs half of what I own in the field, the temple, and the city, namely houses, field, slaves, silver, copper, clothing, it grain, emmer, ox, tomb in the mountain, and anything else on earth, as well as half of my share that comes to me in the name of the choachyte of the Valley, Nesmin … My father.67

  The inheritance of servants is a contentious issue as it raises the issue of slavery, which is discussed briefly in chapter six. As discussed, people could sell themselves into slavery in order to pay a debt and once the debt was paid they would be free once more. However, as a punishment for a crime a defendant could be sentenced to a loss of liberty. If the crime was severe enough, wives and children could also lose their freedom and be forced into slavery because of the crimes of the husband, although a man could not lose his freedom due to the crimes of his wife. Families were held responsible for the acts of all individuals, and they were not allowed to profit from the illegal gains of a criminal.68

  One of the most notorious crimes in ancient Egypt was that of tomb robbery and, as there have only been a handful of Egyptian tombs which were no
t robbed in antiquity, it is the crime that most people today will associate with ancient Egypt. It is no secret that often the tomb robbers were the people who constructed the tomb and therefore knew their location. Paneb, one of the workmen at Deir el-Medina, was accused of tomb robbery and this perhaps consequently led to his dismissal, and possibly even execution. The accusations against him can all be found on Papyrus Salt 124, written by Amennakhte. However, some of the accusations on this papyrus should be taken with caution. Paneb, an orphan, had been adopted by Neferhotep, the chief workman of the village, and was raised as his son, inheriting his job and possessions upon his death. Neferhotep’s brother Amennakhte was jealous of this inheritance, which he believed was rightfully his, and was rather bitter towards Paneb. This bitterness manifested itself in Papyrus Salt 124. However, it is thought that there was an element of truth in the accusations, as many involved or were witnessed by other people in the village. The accusations ranged from abusing his position of foremen – ‘Charge concerning his ordering the workmen to work on the plaited bed of the Deputy of the Temple of Amun, while their wives wove clothes for him. He made Nebnefer, son of Wadjmose feed of his ox for two whole months.’69 It is assumed that this work was unpaid, which is why it was included as a charge – to the most serious charges of tomb robbery, which were supported by other sources. Paneb disappears from village records shortly afterwards, with the last known record stating, ‘Year six, the fifth month, the killing of the chief.’ He was accused (among other things) of removing the covering of the chariot of Sety II as well as a ‘charge concerning his ordering the workmen to cut down stones on the top of the tomb of Sety Merenptah. They took them away to his tomb and he erected four columns in his tomb of these stones.’70 He was also accused of robbing the tomb of Henutmira, a daughter of Sety I, in the Valley of the Queens, stealing a goose which was probably covered in a precious metal. If royal tombs were not enough, he was also accused of robbing four villagers’ tombs.71 Whether he was caught, tried and executed is not known for certain, but his disappearance from the Deir el-Medina records suggests this was the case.

  A particularly interesting group of papyri recording further tomb robberies is from year 16 of Ramses IX (1082 BCE). The fullest record of the procedure of the robbery is found on the Abbott Papyrus and describes a four-day period between day 18 and 21 of the third month of inundation. On the 18th day, Pawer’o, the Prince of the West of No and Chief of Mazoi of the Necropolis, reported to the vizier, the notables and the butlers his suspicion of the robbery of two eleventh-dynasty, seven seventeenth-dynasty and one eighteenth-dynasty tomb. On his advice an inspection party went to the necropolis to check the tombs. This party comprised inspectors of the Necropolis, the scribe of the vizier and the scribe of the overseer of Pharaoh’s treasury. Their investigation discovered that the tombs Pawer’o suspected of being robbed had not been, but that the tomb of Sobekemsaf, two tombs of the Divine Votaress’s and a number of tombs of lesser personages had been violated.

  Pawer’o was able to produce a list of names of the thieves, who were later arrested and tried. The next day, on the 19th, the vizier, Khaemwese, and the royal butler, Nesamun, went to examine the tombs in the Valley of the Queens, accompanied by Peikharu, a coppersmith who had been accused of tomb robbery two years earlier. He had been examined by ‘beating’, which led to the confession of his robbing the tomb of Isis, a queen of Ramses III. However, once he was in the Valley he was unable to locate the tomb of Isis (an apparently newly robbed tomb), only the tombs he had entered two years previously. It is likely he only confessed to stop the torture he was being subjected to while being questioned. On examination of the tomb entrances, all were found to be intact, indicating they had not been violated.

  That evening two scribes approached Pesiur, another Prince of Thebes, to report a further five tomb violations.72 This conversation was overheard by Pawer’o, who wrote to the vizier denouncing the scribes for not following protocol. The scribe of the Necropolis was expected to report any concerns directly to the vizier,73 rather than informing Pesiur first. Reporting crime itself had a strict hierarchy, with ordinary people reporting to local officials (like these scribes) who then went directly to the vizier.74 The great court of Thebes was then called on the twenty-first day of the third month of inundation, not to investigate the robberies but to investigate Pesiur and the two scribes. The tombs had been found intact, and the list of thieves provided did not reveal any evidence of robbery, indicating his information was false. Pesiur likely included the name of Peikharu the coppersmith in the list based solely on his being arrested in year 14 for loitering in the Valley.75

  It appears from the evidence provided that Pawer’o and Pesiur were rivals and that Pawer’o overheard Pesiur’s plan to demand an investigation into the tomb robberies and pre-empted him. When it proved to be false information, Pawer’o denounced Pesiur and therefore he was questioned in court regarding this, leaving Pawer’o in the clear.

  We are able to put together the intricate details of the tomb robberies as well as the complex nature of the people involved from a number of other papyri. In the Amherst Papyrus on day 19, a prisoner recalls the thefts in the tombs of Sobekemsaf and Nubkhaas. He lists eight men who were in ‘the pyramid tomb of this god’, which include Hapiwer, Setekhnakht, Hapi’o, Irenamun, Amenemhab, Kamwase and Ahautinufer. The eighth man, Setnakht, escaped.76 In addition to these eight men responsible for the actual robbing of the tomb, Papyrus BM 10054 tells us of the fisherman Panekhtmope, who ferried six thieves across the river and received payment of three kite of gold (approximately 27 grams). Once the robberies took place, the robbers enlisted the help of Amenpnufer to transport the gold and silver.77 Pawer’o and the high priest of Amun Amenhotep were responsible for the recovery of the stolen items from the eight thieves.78

  Stealing from the tombs of royalty and even the temples was not uncommon in the New Kingdom, and Papyrus BM 10054 includes the record of a priest Penwenhab who, accompanied by other priests, went to a place and stole gold foil from a statue of Nefertum belonging to Ramses II, before going to another place associated with Ramses II or Nefertum and stealing four silver objects which were replaced with items made of wood. A goldsmith is called to give evidence to the facts and gives a list of more people who were connected with the crime and received plunder from the thefts.79

  However, it was not only precious metals that were stolen from tombs and temples; wood was considered a valuable commodity and BM 10053 contains a number of criminal charges of wood theft, including,

  Charge concerning the door-frame of the House of the Divine Ennead which the carpenter Peson and the carpenter Nesamun cut up: and they made it into four boards and he gave them to the troop captain Peminu.

  Charge concerning the door of the Mut shrine of cedar which the scribe Sedi stole and gave to the troop captain Peminu.

  Charge concerning the four boards of cedar belonging to the ‘floor of silver’ of Usimaatra Setepen ra, the great god which the scribe Sedi gave to the citizeness Teherer, the wife of the divine father Hori.80

  Any worries the thieves had about the wrath of the gods were clearly superseded by the economic value of the wood they could acquire, cut up and then sell. At the time these robberies were occurring, during the reign of Ramses IX, the Egyptian economy was particularly weak at all levels of society, and the west bank was plagued by bands of Libyan tribes in the western desert, which led to the abandonment of Deir el-Medina to the nearby safety of Medinet Habu.

  Not all crimes were against the state in the form of temple theft, tomb robbery or conspiring to assassinate the king. Crimes were obviously carried out against other members of the community and even in the home, as the records of domestic violence suggest. However, this was only considered a crime in particular circumstances. Ostracon Nash 5 describes domestic violence between a woman and her husband;

  My husband … then he made a beating, he made a beating [again] and I caused the […] to fetch his mothe
r. He was found guilty and caused […] and I said to him ‘If you are […] in the presence of the court’ and he swore [an oath of the lord] saying ‘as Amun endures as [the Ruler] endures’.81

  Unfortunately the oath that the husband made is lost, meaning we do not know what he had to agree to in order to end the case.

  Should a woman be further abused, the Kahun Gynaecological Papyrus has a remedy for the victim of rape: ‘Instruction for a woman suffering in her vagina, and her limbs likewise, having been beaten. You shall say concerning her; this has loosened her uterus. You should then prepare for her; oil to be eaten until she is well.’82

  Paneb, the rather notorious inhabitant of Deir el-Medina, was also accused of rape by Amennakhte, his adopted father’s brother. Apparently he stripped the lady Yemyemwah of her clothes and ‘threw her on top of the wall and seduced her’. She was the sister of his adopted father and Amennakhte. As with most of Amennakhte’s accusations against Paneb, this one also did not result in a court case or punishment, which either indicates they were unfounded or Paneb was able to bribe the officials and remain un-reprimanded.

  There is even a possible case of male rape recorded in the Turin Indictment Papyrus. It is a ‘charge concerning the violation done by this sailor Panakhtta [… to …] a field labourer of the estate of Khnum, Lord of Elephantine.83 What the outcome of this charge was is not recorded. It is thought that in many instances seduction or rape may have led to forced marriages, although this is not supported by written evidence. A more likely consequence of rape was pregnancy, and in the Anatomical Museum in the Cairo School of Medicine there is a young girl less than twenty years old who met a rather violent and untimely death. She lived in the twenty-sixth dynasty and at the time of her murder she was six months pregnant. She was killed by a number of blows, breaking her left forearm, her left shoulder and the left side of her jaw and fracturing her skull.84 The blows all being on the left-hand side is indicative of a right-handed assailant. It is unknown if she was killed due to her pregnancy but it seems likely, although whether the pregnancy was the result of a rape or a dalliance is unknown.