Read Online The Visitors by Sally Beauman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sally Beauman
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Protectorate are numbered. So one has to ask – are they blind? Do they think ?’
‘Are they even capable of thought? I often doubt it. My, but King and Empire can get mighty tedious… ’
‘Helen, it can. I get this irresistible urge to mention the Boston tea-party… ’
Helen laughed, and linked her arm in Miss Mack’s. ‘Save your breath, Myrtle,’ she replied. ‘They just might not have heard of it. History isn’t their strong point.’
Those episodes of confusion and smoky uncertainty continued, and would still afflict me at unpredictable moments. But they became more infrequent – the influence of Frances seemed to drive them away. How different it was to tour the Coptic churches or Saladin’s citadel in her unpredictable company. How much more rewarding to explore the hot vast Egyptian Museum with her and with her father, who’d sometimes take time off to give us expert guidance. With a genial Herbert Winlock at my side, I could patch up some of the gaps in my understanding. I learned that el-Amarna, where Mr Carter had first dug as a young man, had been a magnificent city, built by the heretic king Akhenaten, who had abandoned the royal city of Thebes and cast aside the old gods, imposing a single deity, the Aten, or sun god. Peering into the museum’s dusty display cases, I could examine the broken statues of this king, and admire the reliefs that showed him with his six daughters and his wife, Nefertiti: the queen whose name meant ‘ The beautiful one is come’ .
‘Did one of Akhenaten’s daughters inherit his throne?’ I asked Herbert Winlock. I was drawn to these long-dead daughters, who were depicted very small.
‘Not so far as we know,’ he replied; he was always tender with my ignorance. ‘It wasn’t impossible for a woman to rule, Lucy: Hatshepsut, for instance. She seized the throne after her husband the king died, and ruled her empire for thirty years with great success and great ruthlessness – and when you come to Luxor, I’ll take you and Miss Mack around her mortuary temple. But in that era, she was an exception.’
He leaned forward and we both examined the carved relief that held pride of place in this cabinet: Akhenaten with Nefertiti, en famille . The tiny daughters were at play: the stone was cracked and chipped, and sections were missing, but if you examined it closely, you could see that the rays of the sun touched each member of the family, and that the rays ended in hands, which appeared to caress, or to bless them.
‘So, to answer your question, Lucy, we’re not sure who ruled after Akhenaten,’ Herbert Winlock continued. ‘It’s an era that’s virtually undocumented. But it wasn’t one of his daughters. We believe there were two short reigns after his death: a king called Smenkhkare of whom we know nothing beyond a name, and then another, Tutankhaten, later known as Tutankhamun – but we know next to nothing of him either.’ He sighed. ‘That’s the fascination of Egyptology, Lucy: how much we know – and how little. It’s like flashes of intense light – and then a great impenetrable darkness.’
He broke off and glanced around. We could now hear the sound of footsteps and quiet voices. Two men had just entered the far end of that gallery: one, a familiar bulky figure in a Homburg hat, was Howard Carter; the other a distinguished-looking man who was unknown to me.
‘Isn’t that Howard?’ Helen said. ‘Who is he taking on the grand tour this time, Herbert? Someone important – someone useful?’
‘Lord Northcliffe – owner of The Times . He’s over here for the latest conference. Howard said he’d wangled a meeting with him,’ Winlock replied. They exchanged a wry glance.
‘I daren’t look. Is Howard being very charming?’ Helen smiled.
‘Sure is. And won’t thank us for interrupting him,’ Winlock answered, and led us quickly into a side gallery.
It was filled with mummies – I remember that, for they haunted my dreams
‘Are they even capable of thought? I often doubt it. My, but King and Empire can get mighty tedious… ’
‘Helen, it can. I get this irresistible urge to mention the Boston tea-party… ’
Helen laughed, and linked her arm in Miss Mack’s. ‘Save your breath, Myrtle,’ she replied. ‘They just might not have heard of it. History isn’t their strong point.’
Those episodes of confusion and smoky uncertainty continued, and would still afflict me at unpredictable moments. But they became more infrequent – the influence of Frances seemed to drive them away. How different it was to tour the Coptic churches or Saladin’s citadel in her unpredictable company. How much more rewarding to explore the hot vast Egyptian Museum with her and with her father, who’d sometimes take time off to give us expert guidance. With a genial Herbert Winlock at my side, I could patch up some of the gaps in my understanding. I learned that el-Amarna, where Mr Carter had first dug as a young man, had been a magnificent city, built by the heretic king Akhenaten, who had abandoned the royal city of Thebes and cast aside the old gods, imposing a single deity, the Aten, or sun god. Peering into the museum’s dusty display cases, I could examine the broken statues of this king, and admire the reliefs that showed him with his six daughters and his wife, Nefertiti: the queen whose name meant ‘ The beautiful one is come’ .
‘Did one of Akhenaten’s daughters inherit his throne?’ I asked Herbert Winlock. I was drawn to these long-dead daughters, who were depicted very small.
‘Not so far as we know,’ he replied; he was always tender with my ignorance. ‘It wasn’t impossible for a woman to rule, Lucy: Hatshepsut, for instance. She seized the throne after her husband the king died, and ruled her empire for thirty years with great success and great ruthlessness – and when you come to Luxor, I’ll take you and Miss Mack around her mortuary temple. But in that era, she was an exception.’
He leaned forward and we both examined the carved relief that held pride of place in this cabinet: Akhenaten with Nefertiti, en famille . The tiny daughters were at play: the stone was cracked and chipped, and sections were missing, but if you examined it closely, you could see that the rays of the sun touched each member of the family, and that the rays ended in hands, which appeared to caress, or to bless them.
‘So, to answer your question, Lucy, we’re not sure who ruled after Akhenaten,’ Herbert Winlock continued. ‘It’s an era that’s virtually undocumented. But it wasn’t one of his daughters. We believe there were two short reigns after his death: a king called Smenkhkare of whom we know nothing beyond a name, and then another, Tutankhaten, later known as Tutankhamun – but we know next to nothing of him either.’ He sighed. ‘That’s the fascination of Egyptology, Lucy: how much we know – and how little. It’s like flashes of intense light – and then a great impenetrable darkness.’
He broke off and glanced around. We could now hear the sound of footsteps and quiet voices. Two men had just entered the far end of that gallery: one, a familiar bulky figure in a Homburg hat, was Howard Carter; the other a distinguished-looking man who was unknown to me.
‘Isn’t that Howard?’ Helen said. ‘Who is he taking on the grand tour this time, Herbert? Someone important – someone useful?’
‘Lord Northcliffe – owner of The Times . He’s over here for the latest conference. Howard said he’d wangled a meeting with him,’ Winlock replied. They exchanged a wry glance.
‘I daren’t look. Is Howard being very charming?’ Helen smiled.
‘Sure is. And won’t thank us for interrupting him,’ Winlock answered, and led us quickly into a side gallery.
It was filled with mummies – I remember that, for they haunted my dreams
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