friend: sensitive to beauty, responsive to my moods and to the frequent distressing sights of poverty and disease; interested in learning all she could of the history that unrolled before us; cheerful; uncomplaining. I found myself dreading the spring. It would have been so pleasant to look forward to years of Evelyn’s company; we could have lived like sisters, enjoying the domestic comforts of England, and travelling whenever we got bored with domesticity. But that was clearly not to be expected. Whether Evelyn yielded to her cousin’s suit or not, she would certainly marry one day; and I rather believed that Lucas would prevail. He had every argument on his side. So I decided to enjoy the moment and forget about the future.
After Beni Hassan, the next site of interest to historians is near a village called Haggi Qandil. The region has a more famous name; it is sometimes called Tell-el-Amarna, and it was the city of the heretic king Khuenaten – if indeed he was a king, and not a queen in disguise, as some archaeologists have claimed. I had seen copies of the strange portraits of this monarch, and had to admit that his form bore more resemblance to the feminine than to the masculine.
Even more intriguing was the speculation on the religious beliefs of this peculiar personage. He had abandoned the worship of the old gods of Egypt and given his devotion to the sun, Aten. Did he worship only this god? Was he the first monotheist of whom history gives us a record? And what connection could there be between this supposed monotheism and the monotheism of the Hebrews? Moses was raised at the court of Egypt. Perhaps the elevated faith of Yahweh derived, ultimately, from the iconoclastic religion of an ancient Egyptian pharaoh!
Evelyn was rather shocked when I proposed this idea, and we had a pleasant little argument. I gave her a lecture on Khuenaten; she was always anxious to learn.
‘He abandoned the royal city of Thebes,’ I explained, ‘and built a new capital dedicated to his god, on land that had never been contaminated by other worship. Herr Lepsius discovered some of the boundary inscriptions placed on the rocks around the city of Khuenaten. There are also tombs in the cliffs, rather interesting ones; the drawings are quite different in style from the usual tomb decorations. If the wind suits, I think a visit there might be profitable. What do you say?’
I was leafing through my copy of Brugsch’s
Geographical Dictionary
(Heinrich Brugsch, the archaeologist, not his disreputable brother) as I spoke; but I watched Evelyn out of the corner of my eye, and saw the betraying colour rise in her cheeks. She put down her pencil – she was quite a good little artist, and had made a number of nice sketches along the way – and gazed out across the river toward the cliffs.
‘What is the name of the place, Amelia?’
I rifled busily through the pages of Brugsch.
‘The ancient name of the place was – ’
‘The modern name is El Amarnah, is it not?’
‘There are three villages on the spot, el-Till and el-Haggi Qandil and El-Amariah. A corruption of these names – ’
‘Yes, yes, I recall – I recall Walter speaking of it. That is where he and Mr Emerson are working. You would have no reason to remember that, of course.’
I decided that Evelyn was being sarcastic. She seldom allowed herself this luxury, so I overlooked it on this occasion.
‘Is that so?’ I said casually. ‘Well, I suppose there is no reason why we should necessarily encounter the Emersons. The site is large and the tombs are scattered. We will take it as settled, then. I will speak to Reis Hassan.’
Owing to a difficulty with the wind, we did not reach the village of Haggi Qandil for two days. Indeed, we had some trouble reaching it at all; if I had not been determined, Reis Hassan would not have stopped. He mentioned unfavourable winds, disease in the village, the remoteness of the archaeological remains from the river, and a number
After Beni Hassan, the next site of interest to historians is near a village called Haggi Qandil. The region has a more famous name; it is sometimes called Tell-el-Amarna, and it was the city of the heretic king Khuenaten – if indeed he was a king, and not a queen in disguise, as some archaeologists have claimed. I had seen copies of the strange portraits of this monarch, and had to admit that his form bore more resemblance to the feminine than to the masculine.
Even more intriguing was the speculation on the religious beliefs of this peculiar personage. He had abandoned the worship of the old gods of Egypt and given his devotion to the sun, Aten. Did he worship only this god? Was he the first monotheist of whom history gives us a record? And what connection could there be between this supposed monotheism and the monotheism of the Hebrews? Moses was raised at the court of Egypt. Perhaps the elevated faith of Yahweh derived, ultimately, from the iconoclastic religion of an ancient Egyptian pharaoh!
Evelyn was rather shocked when I proposed this idea, and we had a pleasant little argument. I gave her a lecture on Khuenaten; she was always anxious to learn.
‘He abandoned the royal city of Thebes,’ I explained, ‘and built a new capital dedicated to his god, on land that had never been contaminated by other worship. Herr Lepsius discovered some of the boundary inscriptions placed on the rocks around the city of Khuenaten. There are also tombs in the cliffs, rather interesting ones; the drawings are quite different in style from the usual tomb decorations. If the wind suits, I think a visit there might be profitable. What do you say?’
I was leafing through my copy of Brugsch’s
Geographical Dictionary
(Heinrich Brugsch, the archaeologist, not his disreputable brother) as I spoke; but I watched Evelyn out of the corner of my eye, and saw the betraying colour rise in her cheeks. She put down her pencil – she was quite a good little artist, and had made a number of nice sketches along the way – and gazed out across the river toward the cliffs.
‘What is the name of the place, Amelia?’
I rifled busily through the pages of Brugsch.
‘The ancient name of the place was – ’
‘The modern name is El Amarnah, is it not?’
‘There are three villages on the spot, el-Till and el-Haggi Qandil and El-Amariah. A corruption of these names – ’
‘Yes, yes, I recall – I recall Walter speaking of it. That is where he and Mr Emerson are working. You would have no reason to remember that, of course.’
I decided that Evelyn was being sarcastic. She seldom allowed herself this luxury, so I overlooked it on this occasion.
‘Is that so?’ I said casually. ‘Well, I suppose there is no reason why we should necessarily encounter the Emersons. The site is large and the tombs are scattered. We will take it as settled, then. I will speak to Reis Hassan.’
Owing to a difficulty with the wind, we did not reach the village of Haggi Qandil for two days. Indeed, we had some trouble reaching it at all; if I had not been determined, Reis Hassan would not have stopped. He mentioned unfavourable winds, disease in the village, the remoteness of the archaeological remains from the river, and a number
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