Daily Life in Ramessid Egypt, Part 1. Starting around 1300 BCE, the (surviving) corpus of written documents from Egypt begins to increase dramatically. It’s not clear why, but papyrus and ostraca are far more abundant for this era than anything before. Thanks to these records, we get many glimpses of daily life and personal concerns, from the society of the time; and we can enjoy some Small Stories of life in Ramessid Egypt.
(1) A Slow Worker
Around 1290 BCE, give or take, a worker near Deir el-Medina (the village of the tomb builders) sat down to write a note. His name was Pa-Baki; he was a scribe; and he was part of a work-team building tombs or monuments on the west bank of Waset (modern Luxor). Alas, Pa-Baki had recently welcomed a new member to his team, at the request of his father. But that worker was proving an issue. So, Pa-Baki wrote the following. O. DM 328.[1]
“A message from the scribe, Pa-Baki, to his father, the Scribe-of-the-Outlines Maa-ny-nakht-ef, saying: I have heeded what you told me, when you said ‘Let Ibi work with you.’ But look, he spends all day bringing a jug of water, even though there is no other task assigned to him. Every day! He hasn’t heeded your admonition, when you said ‘”What have you accomplished today?’ Behold, the sun has set, and he is still far off with the jug of water.”
In the hills west of Waset, the desert looms large. Builders working at the Valley of the Kings, Queens, the nobles’ tombs, and Deir el-Medina itself, all relied on deliveries of water to slake their thirst. Alas, the newcomer was not pulling his weight, literally. Pa-Baki wanted it fixed.
I love this letter. This could easily be a modern text message from the site foreman, complaining to their supervisor. And chances are, you’ve had that co-worker. When there’s a task to be done, they’re nowhere to be found; and when you get them on a job, you won’t see them again for the rest of the day. The fact we have a record of something similar, from 3,300 years ago, is great fun. A reminder of people being people.
Introduction
Around 1290 BCE, we are in an era that scholars know as the “Early Ramessid Period.” The King is User-Ma’at-Ra, Ramesses II; and the epoch is defined by rulers of this household.
We’ve spent the past several episodes entangled in the affairs of the King. But in the aftermath of some major events, it’s a good time for a breather. To see what else was happening in the wider Egyptian society.
One of the great things about the early Ramessid era is how much writing survives. Letters, instructions, orders and receipts; commemorative stelae given to the gods; tombs and small artefacts. They are abundant.
The causes for such a huge volume of information are slightly unclear. There might be a social reason. Literacy may have gone up in recent decades, producing more scribes and people who could leave a written record. Or there might have been economic causes. Maybe papyrus and ink were being produced in greater quantities, making such writing more accessible to the wider populace. Or it may simply be an accident of preservation. Communities like Deir el-Medina, where we get so much writing, were much smaller in the 18th Dynasty; but under the early Ramessids the town consolidated, grew, and became much more prominent; so, it naturally produced a larger volume of material more likely to survive. All those reasons are possible, but speculative. The best we can say for sure is that, starting around 1300 BCE, written records for daily life are much better preserved.
This is great for historians. Compared to earlier generations, we start getting more glimpses of daily life, business, social interactions, and the concerns of ordinary folks. Today, I’d like to give you a sample of these “Small Stories;” and see what they tell us about life in early Ramessid Egypt.
The following tales take place in the early 19th Dynasty generally. Some of them have specific dates or references to the monarch; but many of them don’t. So, we can place these events around 1300 BCE and the next few decades.
(2) Give Me Back My Donkey!
Our first letter comes from the north, in town Men-Nefer (or Memphis). The administrative capital for nearly two thousand years, the great city sprawled along the west bank of the river; and its canals, waterways, and harbours bustled as they had for countless years.
Within that community, there was a man named Djehuty-Mes (or Thutmose). He was a minor bureaucrat, who worked on a farming estate that belonging to pharaoh’s grandfather Ramesses I. The agricultural land produced offerings for that deceased ruler, sending them to the temples that honoured his memory (and the staff that operated them). Thutmose seems to have worked on that estate, and he may have been doing alright for himself, because he owned at least one donkey, maybe more. Alas, he had loaned one of those donkeys to a colleague.[2] The borrower, named Pairy, had yet to return the animal; but Thutmose was still paying fees on that donkey, and he wanted the animal back. Alas, that was proving harder than expected.
A short letter, preserved on a papyrus, gives us a glimpse at Thutmose’s frustrations as he tried to get his donkey back.
“The guardian of the Estate of Ramesses I, Djehuty-Mes, greets the overseer of cattle of the herd, Pairy… in life, prosperity, and health!
Now… Please return the donkey for hire that you have in your possession… I remind you one donkey was given to you by the soldier Tenen, from the battalion “Glittering Like the Aten,” in the Year of the Bow of Djeper. He (Tenen) told you to give the donkey to me (Djehutymose), but you didn’t. I… apprehended you in Men-nefer (Memphis) saying ‘Give it back!’ and you said to me ‘Don’t take me to the qnbt (court). Behold, the donkey is in my command. Did you ever send someone to take it, and I refused to hand it over?’ That is what you said. And you took an oath by the lord (life, prosperity, health) and said, ‘I will return the donkey.’
“But still, you have not caused it to be returned. Now one (my master?) exacts the revenue from me, year after year, but it is still in your possession!”[3]
There’s a couple of curious details here. Thutmose describes the donkey as being “for hire.” The phrase literally translates as “copper on the hoof,” which seems to be a way of counting its value in metal, and connecting it with the work that the animal can potentially do. It’s a nice insight to the economic mindset of the time; they don’t use currency, but they’re starting to think in similar terms. A donkey was not just an animal, but a vehicle of potential wealth, that could be rendered in abstract language.
We also get a reference to an army battalion called ‘Glittering Like the Aten.’ This regiment had operated for decades, at least; we first hear about it in the days of Amunhotep III, a good seventy-five years before this period.[4] But the name stuck around (for this regiment and for other units, like a ship of the same name). That’s important in a general sense, because there’s a popular misconception that Aten (the god of Akhenaten) was kind of “thrown out” with the heretic king and subsequently forgotten. The truth is anything but. Aten remained a part of the pantheon; he lost some of his prominence, for sure, but he remained a respectable form of the sun god, worthy of invocation.
Finally, we get an interesting date. Thutmose references the “Year of the Bow of Djeper.”From the name, that is probably a town in Canaan or Syria. So, maybe he’s referencing some noteworthy battle or event that took place at that location, in whatever year that was. Unfortunately, such an event is unknown from the royal records. It could have happened under Sety I, or Ramesses I, or even Horemheb. Thutmose didn’t say how far back in the past this event was. Presumably, not too far back, given that was the year the donkey passed into Pairy’s care. But it’s an interesting example of how small records, like a letter, can hint at events which seem to have been a big deal (big enough that people knew “that was the year that happened”); and yet, no royal or administrative inscription survives to document the occurrence. One of those cases that makes you wonder, just how much have we lost?
The letter of Thutmose and his donkey is a remarkable little document. Alas, this text is the only one remaining. Did Thutmose get his donkey back? Unknown. I hope he did. Donkeys are under-appreciated, historically. They may be stubborn, noisy, and hardly “glamourous,” but they’re mellow, dependable once you earn their trust, and they’ll work harder than you may expect.
(3) Observe the Festivals
From a lazy team-member, we come to an… attentive priest. Not far from Deir el-Medina, still on the west bank of Waset, a man named Min-Mose (“Born of Min”) was tasked with overseeing work in a great temple. The Memorial Temple of Amunhotep III (or Neb-Ma’at-Ra) was now a hundred years old, give or take. Its magnificent pylons and towering statues (like the Colossi of Memnon) remained some of the high landmarks on the west side of the city.
Amunhotep’s temple was still operational, in the early Ramessid era. Min-Mose, a “wab-priest” (or “purified one”) had responsibilities there. And he took them seriously, despatching this letter to a colleague. O. British Museum 5627.[5]
“It is Min-Mose, the wab-priest of Ptah-Sokar in the Temple of Neb-Ma’at-Ra (Amunhotep III’s Memorial Temple) on the West (Bank) of Waset, who addresses Sobek-Hotep the son of Wamun, the wab-priest of Sakhmet…
“Please, be attentive in performing the festivals of the gods, and also in making their divine (offerings) in the chapel of each god who resides in the Temple of (Amunhotep III)… presenting (the offerings) to the one of his sunlight, namely Amun who is in his Aten / Sun Disc; to Nefertem-Horus, the Exultant; to Sakhmet the Great who is in this temple [the many statues of that goddess]; and to Wepwawet of the North; to the gods of Amun-Bull-of-His-Mother; and to every god and every goddess. Please make their offerings. Don’t ignore what I’ve said. Be mindful of the gods whom you are serving [so that they may give] you life.”
It seems strange that a priest (Min-Mose) feels the need to remind his colleague, also a priest, to “observe the festivals.” Had Sobek-Hotep been tardy, or missed some important occasion? Or had he been neglecting some deities, in favour of others?
There’s a couple of interesting details here. Min-Mose references two gods (or rather, three). He talks about Sakhmet (more on her in a moment), and he mentions Ptah-Sokar. That is a combination, or syncretism, of two great deities. Ptah the lord of artisans and Sokar, a lord of the necropolis and underworld.[6] This hybrid deity had their own chapel, on the northern axis of Amunhotep’s temple.[7] You can see part of it today, when you drive past the monument’s western side. It’s not much, but it gives a sense of where this business was taking place.
Additionally, the addressee of this letter (Sobek-Hotep or “Sobek is at Peace”) was a priest for the goddess Sakhmet. She of Power, the lioness of war and pestilence. Sakhmet was closely connected with Ptah and Sokar. She also had a strong a presence in Amunhotep’s temple. Chances are, you’ve encountered a statue of Sakhmet in museums around the world. They have a distinctive style. Usually dark, blackish stone; they show the goddess as a woman with the head of a lioness. She sits upon a throne, hands resting gently on her lap, maybe holding a symbol of ankh (life). Atop her head, Sakhmet wears a solar disk with a uraeus cobra at the front. Such images are extremely common (almost any museum with a half-decent collection has one). More importantly, these statues tend to come from the temples of Amunhotep III. In the second or third decade of his reign (around 1370 BCE), Amunhotep had commissioned hundreds (literally hundreds) of Sakhmet images. They adorned his temple at western Waset; and over subsequent generations many were removed and reused in other sanctuaries. I recounted the story of that King and his devotion to the goddess back in episode 99, titled “Sakhmet’s Demons.” But it’s fun to see that, a century after the temple’s construction, the cult of Sakhmet in Amunhotep’s sanctuary remained an important one; and thanks to those numerous statues, you can picture the images to which Min-Mose and his colleagues were devoted.
The letter carries on with a brief postscript. After reminding Sobek-Hotep to make offerings to all the relevant gods, he has some practical material to discuss.
“Additionally, please send a message to your cultivator, who is in the fields and has control over the grain; tell him about the harvest assessment in barley and emmer-wheat, which is expected for the granary. Do not let that granary be lacking in barley or emmer, for it is upon its granary that a house stands firm. Also, attend to the cattle stable. Be mindful! Please have the cattle properly cared for. Do not turn your back! It is good if you take note (of this).”
I like Min-Mose’s appeal to a sort of “proverb” here, that a house stands firm based on its granary / supply of food. His concern for the animals is also notable; not because he necessarily cares about their well-being, but because the cattle will eventually go to the temple for slaughter. After their meat was offered to the gods, the remains would be distributed to the priests and workers, including Min-Mose himself. So, he’s looking ahead; take care of the cows, and we’ll all have some good meat in the future.
Ah, I love this stuff. Little concerns like this may not seem like the “Stuff of History.” But they’re such lively, vital little details about ancient concerns and business. For all the grandeur of the architecture, the statues, and the immortal gods, the people working within those environments had the same basic concerns as you or me.
(4) A Scribe to His Mother
Speaking of relatable concerns, the next clutch of letters all deal with family. Like this one, from a scribe named Turo, writing to his mother. O. Cerny 3 and O. Cambridge 1.[8]
“The scribe Turo greets his mother, the Singer of Amun (name lost), in life, prosperity, and health, and in the favour of Amun-Ra, King of the Gods! How are you? Behold, I am calling upon Amun, Mut, and Khonsu, and all the gods of the Southern Iunu (Karnak), and upon Ra when he rises… to keep you healthy, to keep you in the favour of the Western Mountain, the ruling lady (Hathor?), to let me see you healthy every day.
Now, I am being sent to the east side… (by the Tjaty-Vizier) to collect dues from his agents who are in the fields… Because last year’s balance is now due. But there is no loincloth for my rear; my loincloth has been taken away… Please give your personal attention and have me provided (with a new one)… Don’t make me walk helpless…
As soon as I return from the errand, I will deliver to the goods in grain…”
The context is slightly vague. Turo says that his loincloth had been “taken away”? But it’s hard to know if that’s accurate (maybe he’d been punished for something). Or maybe he was just being dramatic, to encourage swift action. However you read it, Turo sounds like a man in desperation. Either he’d left the problem too late, and now needed urgent help, or the problem was genuinely unexpected.
This letter has all the vibes of a child calling home; “I’ve lost my clothes; can you bring me some?” More seriously, it gives an interesting insight to the “domestic economy.” Archaeological finds, and art from tombs, show that fabric production and weaving could happen in a variety of contexts, from small household looms to large semi-industrial workshops.[9] So, Turo could have gone to a local weaver. But apparently, his mother (whose name is lost) either had a loom at home, or could access one easily.
The Mother herself had an important job. She was a Smayt (a Singer or Songstress) for the god Amun-Ra. Presumably, she worked in Karnak, or maybe Luxor Temple, or travelled around the many sanctuaries across Waset (East and West). In daily rituals, and festival occasions, musicians like her would perform the praise (dwA) for the gods and goddesses. We don’t know how lucrative this position was; presumably the singers got some portion of the offerings (like the barley and emmer, or the cattle meat which Min-Mose was organising). But presumably, Turo’s mother was in a good position to send him new clothing. I wonder how long he had to run around “naked.”
(5) A Lady to Her Sister
Along a similar tangent, we have another letter from someone in need of clothing. This one comes from a woman, named Ise (or Isis), who wrote to her sister begging new vestments. O. DM 132.[12]
“A message from Iset to her sister Nub-em-nu (“Gold in the Water”) in life, prosperity, health! Please give your personal attention and weave for me that shawl, very promptly, before (the statue of) Amunhotep I, LPH, comes (in procession) because I am genuinely naked! Make one for my backside because I am naked!”
Like Turo, Ise presents her need as the highest urgency. She is asking for a rwD, which might translate as “shawl” but it’s also the word for a “bowstring.”[13] So, it may not be a shawl per se (a gauzy piece of cloth to wrap around you), but something more like a thong or G-string. Again, such a garment does appear in tomb art, particularly for dancers and musicians.[14] We have no idea what Ise’s job was, but she may be asking for this kind of piece.
(6) House-Sitting
Finally, we have two little letters dealing with housing. In the first, an (unnamed) writer is discussing their house at Deir el-Medina, which they call Pa-Demi (The Village). Apparently, this person was going to be away from home for an extended period of time. And they made arrangements for their belongings and the house itself. O. Cairo 25670.[15]
“A message to inform you of the items that I left behind in The Village (pa-dmj). They were three khar-measures of barley, one and a half khar-measures of emmer-wheat; twenty-six bundles of papyrus; two beds; a clothes box; two couches for a man; two folding stools; one chest; one inlaid box; a stool; two cooking-stones; two footstools; two folding stoods of wood; one basket of lubya-beans (measuring) three oipe; twelve bricks of natron-salt; two pieces of iker-furniture; one door… two offering tablets… one mortar; and two medjay-containers. They are all with Pashed and the lady Sherit-Ra, all recorded.”
The author had packed up their belongings and stored them at a friend’s house. Presumably, they intended to be away for some time, and made sure their own home was vacant of any important possessions. Which begs the question, what about the house itself?
The letter continues with a postscript.
“A further matter. Please allow Amun-em-wia to dwell in my house, so that he can keep an eye on it. And please write to me about your health.”
(7) A Man to His Daughter
Our final letter comes from a man named Hor-em-wia (or “Horus in the Sacred Boat”). He was a workman, apparently literate (or at least having access to a scribe), and he had a nice message for his daughter. O. Petrie 61.[16]
“The workman Horus-em-wia addresses the lady of the town, Ta-Nedjes-Ra, his daughter, saying ‘You are my good daughter. If the workman Baki throws you out of the house, I will take action! As for that house, it belongs to Pharaoh (LPH), but you may dwell in the front room of my storehouse, because it is I who built it. Nobody in the land will throw you out of there.”
Horemwia must have loved his daughter dearly. For one thing, he and his partner had named her Tanedjesra. And he reassured his Little Miss Sunshine that, whatever happened in her home-life, he would take care of her. Her circumstances are unclear; she seems to be living in government housing, of sorts (Horemwia calls it a “House of Pharaoh”). Maybe it was loaned, or rented, to the daughter’s husband, as part of his job. But that relationship had soured, and Ta-Nedjes-Ra was contemplating a way out. Horemwia did not have much space in his own home; but he offered her the front room of the storage house. It’s the equivalent of “the room above the garage” or “the sleep-out in the garden.” A discrete space, offering some privacy (and room for her belongings), where Ta-Nedjes-Ra could regroup. Dad wanted to look after his daughter.
Conclusion
Such stories may not seem grand or “historical.” But for my deben, they are the delightful record of the human experience. Within such letters, we find universal concerns: a lazy coworker, causing issues for their team; a loan, or rental, that hasn’t been returned; a reminder to some underling, to be attentive to their duties; a plea for items, like clothing, when someone has lost them. Or the simple concern for one’s house, when going away; or one’s child, when their life has taken a turn and they might need assistance. In my opinion, these are the Small Stories that bring antiquity to life.
Thank you for listening to The History of Egypt Podcast. What I’ve given you today is just seven letters. But we have dozens, hundreds of such records from the 19th Dynasty and later. If you’d like me to include more in the story to come, let me know in the comments for this episode. For now, this brings us to the end of Daily Life Tales in the Ramessid Era. Part 1, if we’re lucky.
[1] Wente, Letters, 137; https://dmd.wepwawet.nl/scripts/dmdobject.asp?id=O.%20DeM%2000328&m=i
[2] KRI, I, 238:1; KRITA, I, 204; KRITANC, I, 156—157; Wente, Letters, 112—113.
[3] Thorpe, S. (2021). Daily Life in Ancient Egyptian Personal Correspondence, 19. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctv1gt94fh
[4] KRITANC, I, 156—157; See R. O. Faulkner, ‘Egyptian Military Standards’, The Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 27 (1941), 12—18. https://www.jstor.org/stable/3854558.
[5] Wente, Letters, 126.
[6] See Wilkinson, Complete Gods and Goddesses, 209—211.
[7] See Wilkinson, Complete Temples, 188.
[8] Wente, Letters, 146—147.
[9] Vogelsang-Eastwood, in Oxford Encyclopedia of Ancient Egypt, 491—492.
[10] Manniche, Music and Musicians in Ancient Egypt, 57—73.
[11] Gardiner, Late Egyptian Miscellanies, 2; Caminos, LEM, 9—10.
[12] Wente, Letters, 157; https://dmd.wepwawet.nl/scripts/dmdobject.asp?id=O.%20DeM%2000132&m=i
[13] Lesko, Late Egyption, 268, referencing this very letter.
[14] See the Nebamun piece BM EA37984 https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/Y_EA37984
[15] Wente, Letters, 138.
[16] Wente, Letters, 147.
