Tausret, Siptah, Bay, and the case of Paneb. By 1210 BCE, the southern rebellion was dying down, but trouble was far from over. The courtier Bay appears on the scene, first as an agent of Sety II, then as a “kingmaker” in his own right. Tausret increases her power, becoming a regent figure (like Hatshepsut). The young ruler Siptah, physically enfeebled and of uncertain heritage, provides a veil of legitimacy for a new triumvirate.
Meanwhile, in Deir el-Medina, the foremen/chiefs Hay and Paneb deal with serious allegations… [WARNING: Starting at 23:01, episode contains content that may not be suitable for all listeners]
Extended version of this episode available at Patreon.com/egyptpodcast.
Logo image: Winged Ma’at in KV47, tomb of Siptah, by E. Harold Jones 1910 (MMA).
Hay’s Slander Trial
While Amenmesse’s rebellion was over, the city of Waset (Luxor) continued dealing with aftershocks. In the village of Deir el-Medina, for example, the return of Sety II brought new issues.
Amenmesse (and his representatives) had upended the local administration. They’d removed a Vizier, the top-ranking official, and even killed folks who opposed them. To replace those losses, new appointees made their way into positions of power.
What happened to them?
In regnal year 5, shortly after the reconquest, we get our first hint. In the Valley of the Kings, the tomb-builders gathered to resolve a dispute.[1] It was late summer, and a man named Hay had called a meeting.
Hay was a Chief, or Foreman, of the workers (one of two in the community). He had gained his position under Amenmesse, and now he had a big problem. According to a text, discovered in the Valley, Hay faced an accusation of slander (even blasphemy) against pharaoh Sety II. That might have flown under the usurper, but now Hay was in trouble. Acting quickly, the Foreman convened the workers in the middle of the Valley, to form an improvised court. The story goes:
“Year 5, III Shemu, Day 2. A court (qnb.t) of this day. The chief workman Hay approached the court together with (the four accusers), in the presence of the great-ones-of-the-court (sr.w).”
The document gives a list of 12 workers, gathered to pass judgement. Among the group was the other foreman (Hay’s counterpart on the team), a chap named Paneb. These men, plus “the complete gang” (or workforce) assembled to hear the case. Hay gave his testimony:
“The chief workman Hay said, ‘…I was lying in my hut when Pen-Amun came out (of the tomb?) together with his people. They mentioned an accusation concerning the greatness of Pharaoh involving Hay (that) he uttered a curse against Sety.’”
We don’t hear what this “curse” was. Unfortunately, even the accusers could not get the story straight: “The court said to them, ‘Tell us what you heard!’ But they went back on their testimony to argue (among themselves)…”
At this point, Hay’s colleague spoke up. The other Foreman, named Paneb, was presiding over the improvised court. Also a recent appointee, Paneb pressed the accusers: “The chief workman Paneb said to them, ‘Tell us what you heard!’ and (eventually) they said, ‘We did not hear anything.’”
Unable to formalize their story, they withdrew the allegation. But the court did not let them off lightly. First, the accusers should make an oath, saying “‘as Amun endures, (and) s the ruler endures, there is no accusation concerning (Hay) involving Pharaoh (LPH).’” Going further, the group also promised, “If we conceal it today (only) to come out with it in future, may our noses and ears be cut off…’” There would be no repeat accusations. Finally, the four suffered a physical punishment, “ they were given 100 severe blows of the stick.” Ouch.
Hay was innocent, the slanderers got their reward for false accusations. Everything wrapped up tidily. Maybe. Egyptologist Andrea McDowell (who specialised in Egypt’s legal institutions) noted two unusual features about the case.[2] Firstly, there were no outside officials involved, everyone in the court was a worker from the team. That is strange. Most recorded cases include at least one outsider: a royal scribe, a chief of Medjay-police, someone like that.[3] Secondly, Foremen like Hay don’t usually appear before such councils; their rank and influence meant that their problems went to higher authorities (like the Vizier). So, why did Hay deal with this locally, and not involve anyone powerful? Something seems off.
As McDowell interprets it, Hay may not be an “innocent accusee.”[4] That maybe what is actually happening is: Hay made his slander, the witnesses confronted him, and he (along with Paneb) quickly gathered an improvised court to silence the accusation. In these circumstances, the accuser’s indecision about what to say might be them panicking over their situation, unsure whether to cooperate or risk Hay’s vengeance.
Hay’s court case was not the last dispute to emerge from the disorder of Amenmesse’s rebellion. Nor was it the worst. Just a few years after this, Hay’s colleague, the Foreman Paneb, would be in hot water himself. Those allegations would be… troubling.
Bay: Cupbearer to Chancellor
Meanwhile, the Crown worked to re-establish their authority in the south. Shortly after the rebellion, we get traces of royal officials visiting Waset. One man in particular stands out.
Around 1210 BCE, Sety despatched an agent to the southern city. He came to inspect the royal tomb, the works at Karnak, and generally enjoy the sites of a famous community. This man was named Ramesses-khaemnetjer Bay (Ra-ms-ss, xa-m-nTr BAy),[5] but everyone just calls him Bay. He may have been a foreigner, perhaps Canaanite or Syrian heritage, but it’s uncertain. The elaborate name hints at it; in the Ramessid era, foreigners working in the court often had these royal-adjacent (basilophoric) names, invoking the splendour of the reigning pharaoh.[6] Based on his moniker, Bay probably came to Egypt in the later years of Ramesses II. Now, under Sety II, he had achieved some prominence.
Bay came to Waset as the “King’s Cupbearer” (wdpw-nsw), sometimes translated as Butler.[7] But don’t let the name fool you. Royal cupbearers were close to their sovereign and often went forth as agents or emissaries of the king.[8] They were often foreigners, raised in the palace or brought to Egypt as useful servants.[9] Bay is a particularly noteworthy example of the group.
Visiting the southern city, Bay went to Karnak, House of Amun-Ra. Apparently, he was impressed with the temple and its gods. He even scribbled a record of it on a small piece of limestone:[10] “The Royal Scribe, Royal Cupbearer, Bay of the KULE Sety-Merneptah, he says to Amun-Ra, King of the Gods: ‘Come to me, o Amun, and deliver me! I am a visitor from the Northland. Come, may you let me look over the beautiful city, (just) as I view its women!”
The text gives an impression of a tourist, usually living in the north, wonderstruck by the great southern city. Apparently Bay liked great temples and beautiful ladies.[11]
The Cupbearer may have stayed in Waset for some time, organising affairs. He must have done a good job, because the next time we encounter him, he’s received a promotion. Bay starts appearing with the title Seal-Bearer of the King (sDAwty-bity), often translated as “Chancellor.”[12]
As a result, scholars often refer to him as The Chancellor Bay.
The Chancellor stayed in Waset for a while. Pharaoh had issued decrees curbing corruption and abuses of power at Karnak (Episode 242). Bay may have helped enforce those and reestablish authority over the priesthood. The King also inaugurated new building projects. Sety’s great contribution to the House of Amun is a shrine, dedicated to the great god, his partner Mut, and their son Khonsu. The shrine of Sety II (today) stands behind the First Pylon, on your left when you enter the temple proper. At the time, though, it was outside the main temple, right next to the river. It faced the processional road leading from the docks in front of Karnak, so anyone visiting the temple would see Sety’s shrine (and piety) first. I mention this temple for an important reason. It’s pretty, and you should visit it. But inside, Bay did something strange. On the inner walls of the shrine, where Sety makes offerings to the gods, Bay added images of himself behind the pharaoh.[13] They got erased later, but the traces still survive that archaeologists can identify.[14]
It was a bold step, adding himself to a King’s temple. But Bay wasn’t done yet.
After Karnak, the Chancellor also went to the Valley of the Kings. He left a graffito there, carved on a cliff-face, marking his visit.[15] Presumably, he came to inspect work on Sety’s tomb, to get the ball rolling once more after Amenmesse’s defeat. Maybe he visited the tomb of Tausret as well, ensuring the Queen’s sepulchre would progress smoothly once more. Then, he did something incredibly strange. Bay organised the workers of Deir el-Medina to start building him a tomb. A tomb in the Valley of the Kings (KV13).[16] The monument of Bay is just down the road from Sety and Tausret. It’s closed today, but the monument has a similar design and scale to that of the King and Queen. Clearly, Bay was going for something monumental here, and given its location, the Chancellor was building way outside his league.
This is one of the curious questions about Bay. How did he get the authority to do this? Did he even have authority, or did he act first and ask forgiveness later? How did Bay acquire such influence?
One possible explanation is Amenmesse’s rebellion. If Bay were responsible, in some fashion, for Sety’s victory in the south, that might give him the political cache to take these kinds of steps. Kara Cooney suggests “Sety II seems to have owed him something— and something big— because Bay was given free rein to …show his social place in unprecedented ways… This was strange. Sety II seems not to have had the power or will to stop him.”[17]
We can only speculate why, but the answer may lie in the next chapters.
Sety II’s Death & Legacy
By the end of 1210 BCE, Sety II was fully back in control of Egypt. Unfortunately, the pharaoh promptly died. Scarcely a year after putting down Amenmesse, pharaoh himself was gone.
He was in his late twenties, give or take, and had ruled the Two Lands for just over five years. Well, he had ruled half of Egypt for five years; the other half had been a bit of a problem.
At any rate, Sety was gone. Surprisingly, we have a secure record of it. In Deir el-Medina, a worker’s journal mentions the announcement: “Year 6, I Peret, Day 29: A visit (was) paid by the Chief of Medjay-police, Nakhtmin… (he said) ‘The Falcon has flown to the sky, namely Sety, another has arisen in his place.’”[18]
Subsequently, work apparently stopped on the royal tomb for four days because “They were mourning.” A temporary reprieve, perhaps, awaiting new instructions. But in the circumstances, maybe they should have continued. Sety’s royal tomb (KV15) is woefully unfinished.[19] Instead of a beautiful hall to contain his sarcophagus, the King’s casket lies at the end of an incomplete corridor. It just… stops, and the workers converted the passage into a burial space. The walls are not much better. Some scenes (near the entrance) are finely carved, but the rest are just painted quickly on plaster. Images lack details, as if they were sketched and coloured right before the funeral. The two-year hiatus, during Amenmesse’s rebellion, clearly slowed work to a crawl, and they never quite recovered their momentum. But for that, Sety’s tomb is kind of charming; and the “rush job” element gives you a nice glimpse at work in progress.
Siptah Ascends
With pharaoh’s death, the royal family was in a pickle. As far as the records go, Sety II left no surviving heir.[20] So, who was going to ascend? And how would they be legitimised?
The answer to the first was a teenager, named Siptah (Son of Ptah). Approximately fifteen years old, maybe even younger, he somehow took up the throne of Sety.[21]
This prince is a baffling mystery. His mother seems to be a lady called Sutria (Cwt-ra), which is a Canaanite or Syrian name.[22] Siptah may have some foreign ancestry. As for the father, that remains unknown.[23] Siptah may have been a secondary child of Sety;[24] or a leftover of Merneptah.[25] A more radical proposal (via Aidan Dodson) is that the father was none other than Amenmesse.[26] All of these ideas are possible, but there’s no firm evidence to pinpoint the new king’s ancestry.
As for the boy himself, he is a curious one. His body survives, mummified and preserved, and it shows a rather unhealthy physique.[27] His left leg is withered and shortened, his left foot distorted like a club.[28] This may be the result of polio or cerebral palsy.[29] Siptah would have been physically disabled, one foot permanently on tiptoes. To walk, he probably needed a crutch. This wasn’t the best look for a pharaoh, who was supposed to be a “strong bull,” a living Horus, a warrior hero.
Combined with his uncertain heritage, we must ask… how did Siptah become pharaoh?
The answer has two components.
First, we go to the Valley. When Sety died, work was proceeding on three tombs: one for the King, one for Bay, and one for the Queen. Tausret (or “The Powerful Lady”) had taken the unusual step of commissioning a royal-size tomb, for herself, in the Valley. Inside that monument, we get the first images of Siptah.
On the walls of Tausret’s sepulchre, specifically the entry corridors, we find the Queen standing alongside the young boy. They each make offerings to the gods, as if this were a shared tomb. It’s not (Siptah would have his own, before too long). But the Queen introduced the new ruler into her own monument, claiming him as her own.
Simultaneously, monuments start to show Tausret and Siptah side-by-side.[30] But the Queen takes the lead in proclamations. A stone stela, for example (Bilgai),[31] proclaims offerings for the great gods in the name of “The King’s Great Wife, Tausret, Ruling-Lady (nbt) of Every Land, the Eldest Daughter of Amun…;” in second-place appears Siptah, supporting the queen in making offerings.[32] In Egyptian terms, Tausret’s precedence hints at superiority in power and influence. Apparently, the Queen had taken up the role of regent (like Hatshepsut did, nearly three hundred years before).
The second component can be found a bit further south, at Aswan. On the side of an ancient road, an inscription shows the King enthroned before his officials. Behind him stands Bay, and hieroglyphs call him “the Chancellor, Sole Companion, Chief of the Treasury, (Bay) who casts out falsehood and promotes truth, the one who established the King on the seat of his father…”[33]
Bay appears as a “king-maker,” promoting a child (of uncertain heritage) to the supreme royal power.[34] On top of his role as Chancellor (in charge of state secrets) he also wields the authority of Chief Treasurer, apparently controlling the “purse strings” of the Crown.[35] The combination was potent. In this image (and other art), Bay appears the same size as Siptah. In the language of ancient art, that means he has the same status and prestige. Somehow, this foreign agent had become a power behind the throne.
It’s still unclear how this came about. Clearly, Siptah wasn’t the intended heir of Sety II (if there even was one). But what about the others, the “leftover” descendants of Merneptah or Ramesses II? Did Bay and Tausret “remove” potential rivals? At present, we simply don’t know (and it kills me). The ancient Egyptians were not in the habit of publishing their backroom dealings and political machinations. That being said, it is clear that Tausret and Bay formed some kind of alliance, at least publicly.[36] You can find them on monuments, standing side-by-side, honouring the names (and thus identity) of Siptah. At Abu Simbel, for example, a wall-carving shows the two figures equal size, in front of Siptah’s cartouches. At Amada, they appear on opposing doorjambs; Tausret is larger in this scene, standing tall while Bay kneels, but the figures have the same proportions and “scale” overall.
The result is something like an ancient Egyptian triumvirate. On the throne, Siptah embodied Horus, but with major caveats. His half-foreign heritage, through his mother, and physical weakness, undermined his “majesty” as an Egyptian pharaoh. Beside him, the Queen Tausret acted as Regent and the leading face of royal authority. Behind these two, the Chancellor Bay managed the affairs of state, and the wealth. It’s a curious arrangement, indeed.
If you’re getting a sense of déjà vu right now, I don’t blame you. A child-king, propped up on the throne, while real power lies with courtiers and (gasp) a woman… It’s like a combination of Hatshepsut and Tutankhamun, with a dash of foreign influence to boot. In a sense, we’ve come full circle. From the fall of the 18th Dynasty, the 19th had entered a similar crisis.
The Case of Paneb
While folks in the court dealt with the new “normal,” people at Deir el-Medina were experiencing their own issues. Early in the reign of Siptah, a man named Paneb (pA-nb) came under heavy scrutiny.
Paneb was a local, part of the workforce since the last years of Ramesses II.[37] He descended from a lineage of workmen; ordinary rank, nothing special. But Paneb had risen to the rank of Chief or Foreman; and some folks were not happy with him.
In the British Museum, a lengthy papyrus records the testimony of a man named Amunnakht.[38] Another local, part of the workforce, Amunnakht brought forth a whole suite of allegations. The charges included theft, abuse of power, violence, sexual assault, and even murder. In one of Egypt’s more famous legal texts, Amunnakht made his case.
To set the scene… Amunnakht was the brother of a chap named Neferhotep, who had been a Foreman / Chief of the Workers. But he ran afoul of Amenmesse, the rebel king, who had him killed. Subsequently, Paneb took the job of Foreman.
Amunnakht was aggrieved. He felt that he should have inherited the job. Before Neferhotep, their mutual father had been a Foreman; and their grandfather before that. In the tradition of Egyptian inheritance, the family had a long-standing claim to that “top” job. In that context, Amunnakht began his allegations:
“I am the son of the Chief Workman… My father died, and my brother Neferhotep (became) Chief Workman in (our father’s) place. Then, the enemy killed Neferhotep. Now, although I was the brother, Neferhotep gave five of my father’s servants to Paraemheb, who was Vizier (at the time), and so he appointed Paneb to the office of my father, even though it was not his place at all!”
Allegedly, Paneb had bribed his way into the top job, even giving servants (slaves) that did not belong to him. It’s the opening salvo of Amunnakht’s allegations. From there, things would get much worse.
According to the letter, Paneb (now Foreman) had abused his authority endlessly.[39] Amunnakht accused Paneb of stealing tools that belonged to the workforce (that is, to the pharaoh). He said that Paneb had ordered artisans to make furniture for him, and his friends in high places. And, worst of all, Amunnakht accused Paneb of tomb robbery.
Allegedly, Paneb (and some colleagues) had broken into a tomb. Not just any tomb; the burial of Sety II himself. After the grave was closed, Paneb allegedly “hacked up the ground that was sealed in the Place which is hidden.” Subsequently, he and his accomplices “removed the covering of the chariot, and cut off the hand of [a statue?]… He removed five (something) of the (tomb) doors. Now four of them had been recovered, but he took the other one away; it is still in his possession. He (also) took the inb-oil of Pharaoh (LPH), and stole his wines… He removed a royal statue (LPH) bearing the name of Sety-Merneptah (LPH), and they took themselves off, and they were seen… in the House of Hathor.
The “chariot covering” was probably some kind of leather cover, or perhaps a canopy like the one from Tutankhamun’s tomb. The statue hand… unclear why he would steal that, unless it was gilded or bejewelled. The wine and oil, fair enough, those perishable items were high value now (and again, Tutankhamun’s burial had been robbed of its oils and ointments soon after closure). Taking a statue seems strange (quite hard to hide that); and the statue hand is a bit puzzling. Maybe it was gilded or bejewelled, or maybe Paneb just hacked it off as a mark of disrespect. Apparently, the Chief was not above doing that. In fact, Amunnakht alleged: “(Paneb even) took his seat (sat?) on the sarcophagus of Pharaoh (LPH), even though (Sety) lay in burial.” You can still see Sety’s stone casket in his tomb; the place where Paneb supposedly parked his butt. This one definitely must have been an act of disrespect; the box is way at the bottom of the tomb, and the allegations of robbery don’t extend to the coffins or the mummy itself. It sounds like Paneb and his associates plundered the upper chambers, but he still (allegedly) took time to go down and sit on the sarcophagus. If Amunnakht’s accusation is credible, that was a long way down to show his disrespect.
The bribery, usurpation, tomb robbery, and grave sitting were bad enough, but the allegations went even further. These ones were darker. Amunnakht accused Paneb of beating people up at an evening parties and of “going high on the walls and throwing mudbricks at the men.”[40] Allegedly, he even threatened to kill coworkers, and in one instance, he broke into the house of Neferhotep (before his death) and threatened to murder him. In the process, Paneb had supposedly beaten up nine men.[41] Which uh… wow… either Amunnakht’s exaggerating or Paneb was quite the fighter.
Amunnakht also accused Paneb of debauchery, specifically, sleeping with other men’s wives. According to the letter, “(it was said) that Paneb had nk’d the lady-of-the-city Tuy, while she was wife of Qenna; he nk’d the lady-of-the-city Hunero, while she was together with Pendua… (and) after he had nk’d Hunero, he (also) nk’d her daughter Webkhet; his son Aapehty also nk’d Webkhet.”
In some older translations, you’ll find this passage translated as an accusation of rape; that Paneb forced himself on these women. That’s inaccurate. The verb here is nk simply means “to have sex.” There’s a different phrase for assault (which we’ll get to in a second). In these allegations, the grammar implies the women were willing participants. Apparently Paneb was also a lover, not just a fighter. Which begs the question: why is Amunnakht accusing Paneb of wrongdoing here? They’re the ones in relationships, right? It sounds more like a character accusation than criminal activity, something to establish Paneb as a thoroughly disreputable man.
The violence escalated. In another allegation, Paneb supposedly threatened Amunnakht himself, saying that if he went to the chapel/tomb of his mother and father, Amunnakht would hurt him. Allegedly, Paneb even had one of his henchmen go through the village calling out “Do not let anyone visit/see the family of (Amunnakht) when they go to make offerings…” It sounds like that scene in The Godfather Part II, where mafiosi go through a Sicilian village, calling out to villagers not to help their enemy.
In one case, Paneb apparently fell-out with his colleague Hay. After helping Hay escape the slander charges, Paneb allegedly “said to the Foreman Hay, ‘I will attack you on the mountain, and I’ll kill you!’”[42]
Paneb allegedly committed tomb robbery again, breaking into the burial of a worker to “remove the (funerary) bed that was under (his body); he carried off the goods which are given to a dead man, and he stole them.”[43]
Subsequently, Amunnakht did accuse Paneb of rape. Allegedly, the Foreman committed DAit, which seems to be sexual assault, against a woman named Iyemway. The papyrus said “[Charge concerning his robbing Iyemw]aw of her garment; then he threw her on top of the wall and he violated her (DAit).”[44]
Finally, Amunnakht accused Paneb of murder, saying that “He (Paneb) killed those men, to prevent them from bringing a message to Pharaoh (LPH). Behold, I have informed the Vizier of this behaviour!”[45]
With that, the letter ends. Taking the papyrus at face value, Paneb sounds like the absolute bane of the village. Exploiting political unrest to advance his career; robbing tombs including a pharaoh’s; threatening and abusing coworkers and community members; adultery; rape; murder… A rap sheet like that should put him in confinement for life.
But is it true?
The papyrus itself is not a court document. It’s a letter, drafted (and presumably sent) to a high official like the Vizier.[46] There are no witnesses, except people referenced in the (alleged) crimes. So, there’s no one to vouch for Amunnakht’s side of the story. Presumably, he wouldn’t write the letter if he didn’t feel extremely confident in the truth of his accusations. But three thousand years later, what we have is a litany of allegations, but no hard proof.
A couple of the minor accusations (like forcing workers to make products for him and his friends) may be accurate. Small texts from Deir el-Medina reference workers making items for the Chief (like decorating some oil jars).[47] But members of the village regularly traded their skills and services for different purposes; those could be perfectly innocent transactions. So, not a great start for the prosecution.
As for the accuser… well, Amun-nakht had a lot to gain by bringing Paneb down. The very foundation of his claim is that he, brother of Neferhotep, should be the new Foreman. It’s only after that we hear the litany of complaints and accusations about Paneb’s behaviour.
Okay, what about the outcome? Was Paneb convicted?
The last securely dated reference to Paneb (as Foreman) is early in the reign of Siptah.[48] It’s entirely possible that the Vizier (and court) did find him guilty, subsequently removing him from office.[49] If so, then Amun-nakht had his victory. But the accuser did not benefit in the way he might have hoped; there is no record for “The Foreman Amunnakht.” At best, he removed his rival from power, but he did not gain the job in turn. Maybe some of the allegations were true (enough to get rid of Paneb), but others weren’t.
He probably wasn’t executed. A few years later, there is a text (P. Greg, Years 5—7 of Siptah/Tausret) referencing a workman Paneb, which might be the same person (but maybe someone different).[50]
The trials of Paneb (and his colleague Hay) give us tangible insight to a turbulent period in Deir el-Medina.[51] Disorder in the village, caused by Amenmesse’s rebellion; lingering loyalty to the usurper (or at least, disdain for Sety II); corruption in the management (and the higher authorities); violence, sexual assault, even murder… these were not healthy days in the community.
Conclusion
In early 1209 BCE, workers at Deir el-Medina received a message. Two months after news of Sety’s death, they had information about the new king: “Year 1, IV Peret… Day of command concerning the work for Sekha-en-Ra Setep-en-Ra, the Son of Ra… Ramesses-Siptah (life prosperity health)…”[52]
These were not happy days. The new King was a child, and physically feeble; hardly the image of a “strong bull” expected of a pharaoh.
In the court, real power lay in the hands of a woman, Tausret, and a foreigner, Bay. A less-than-ideal set of circumstances, in the tradition of masculine, Egyptian royalty.
Finally, corruption and disorder were manifesting outside the court. The villagers of Deir el-Medina were pulled from one trouble to another, and (if even half the allegations against Paneb were true), they had a real tyrant as one of their chiefs.
[1] KRI IV, 302—303; RITA IV, 219—220; RITANC IV, 261—262; Allam, S. (1973). Hieratische Ostraka und Papyri aus der Ramessidenzeit, I, 61—63.
[2] McDowell, Laundry Lists & Long Songs, 184—185.
[3] McDowell, A. G. (1987). Jurisdiction in the Workmen’s Community at Deir el-Medina [Unpublished PhD. Thesis], 425—428; McDowell, Laundry Lists & Long Songs, 168.
[4] McDowell, Laundry Lists & Long Songs, 184—185.
[5] Dodson, Poisoned Legacy (Revised edn), 86 fig. 82.
[6] Schulman, A. R. (1986). The Royal Butler Ramessessami’on. Chronique d’Égypte, 61(122), 192—197;
[7] Lesko, Late Egyptian Dictionary, I, 248.
[8] Bartos, F. (2023). The Official Titles wb3 nswt ‘royal wb3’ and wdpw nswt ‘royal wdpw’ and the Function of their Holders in the New Kingdom, 62—70.
[9] Grandet, P. (2013). The Ramesside State. In J. C. Moreno García (Ed.), Ancient Egyptian Administration, 874—875.
[10] KRI IV, 286:5—10; RITA IV, 205; Deir el-Medina online.
[11] RITANC IV, 249; Černý, J. (1966). A note on the chancellor Bay. Zeitschrift Für Ägyptische Sprache Und Altertumskunde, 93, 35—39.
[12] Servajean, Mérenptah et la fin de la XIXe dynastie, 59 nn. 150—154; Dodson, A. (2011). Fade to grey: The chancellor Bay, Éminence Grise of the late Nineteenth Dynasty. In M. Collier & S. Snape (Eds.), Ramesside Studies in Honour of K. A. Kitchen (pp. 145–158).
[13] Dodson, Poisoned Legacy (Revised edn), 45 fig. 40.
[14] Johnson, K. L., & Brand, P. (2013). Prince Seti-Merenptah, Chancellor Bay, and the Bark Shrine of Seti II at Karnak. Journal of Egyptian History, 6, 19–45. https://doi.org/10.1163/18741665-12340001.
[15] KRI IV, 286:1; RITA IV, 205.
[16] https://thebanmappingproject.com/tombs/kv-13-bay
[17] Cooney, K. M. (2022). The New Kingdom of Egypt Under the Ramesside Dynasty. In D. T. Potts, N. Moeller, & K. Radner (Eds.), The Oxford History of the Ancient Near East, Volume III: From the Hyksos to the Late Second Millennium BC, 308.
[18] KRI IV, 327:10b; RITA IV, 236; DEM online.
[19] Dodson, A. (1999). The Decorative Phases of the Tomb of Sethos II and Their Historical Implications. Journal of Egyptian Archaeology, 85, 131–142. http://www.jstor.org/stable/pdfplus/3822431.pdf;
[20] A prince named Sety-Merneptah appears on some monuments but seems to have died young. Davies, RITANC, IV, xxxviii n. 17; Wente, E. F. (1980). Genealogy of the royal family. In J. E. Harris & E. F. Wente (Eds.), An X-Ray Atlas of the Royal Mummies, 146-147;
[21] Krogman, W. M., & Baer, M. J. (1980). Age at Death of Pharaohs of the New Kingdom, Determined from X-Ray Films. In J. E. Harris & E. F. Wente (Eds.), An X-Ray Atlas of the Royal Mummies (pp. 188–212). https://archive.org/details/xrayatlasofroyal0000unse
[22] Based on Louvre E26901, which shows a prince “Ramesses-Siptah” alongside his Syrian mother; Schneider, T. (2003). Siptah und Beja: Neubeurteilung einer historischen Konstellation. Zeitschrift Für Ägyptische Sprache Und Altertumskunde, 130, 134—146.
[23] For a recent review of the hypotheses, see Johnson, K. (2012). Transition and Legitimation in Egypt’s Nineteenth and Twentieth Dynasties: A Study of the Reigns of Siptah, Tausret, and Sethnakht [Unpublished PhD. Thesis, University of Memphis], 7—46.
[24] Gardiner, A. (1958). Only One King Siptaḥ and Twosre Not His Wife. The Journal of Egyptian Archaeology, 44, 12–22. https://doi.org/10.2307/3855059
[25] Jonhson, Transition and Legitimation in Egypt’s Nineteenth and Twentieth Dynasties, 34—35, though the author only tentatively endorses the idea.
[26] Dodson, Poisoned Legacy (Revised edn), 91—94.
[27] Smith, G. E. (1912). The Royal Mummies, 70—73.
[28] Smith, The Royal Mummies, 71.
[29] Dodson, Poisoned Legacy, 103.
[30] Dodson, Poisoned Legacy (Revised edn), 94—97.
[31] Gardiner, A. H. (1912). The Stele of Bilgai. Zeitschrift Für Ägyptische Sprache Und Altertumskunde, 50, 49–57.
[32] KRI IV, 341:10—341:15; RITA IV, 246.
[33] Servajean, Mérenptah et la fin de la XIXe dynastie, 96—97.
[34] Dodson, Poisoned Legacy (Revised edn), 86—88, fig. 82; Cooney, “The New Kingdom of Egypt Under the Ramesside Dynasty,” 309—310.
[35] Cooney, “The New Kingdom of Egypt Under the Ramesside Dynasty,” 307.
[36] Dodson, Poisoned Legacy (Revised edn), 98—99, figs. 91, 92, 93; Against this, see Servajean, Mérenptah et la fin de la XIXe dynastie, who imagines Tausret ‘sidelined’ after Sety II’s death. However, this is based on inaccurate reading of the sources (notably the construction dates of Tausret’s tomb KV14). Grimal (1992) presents a somewhat lurid vision of Bay “seducing” Tausret, who then “gave him total control of the Treasury.” Grimal, N. (1992). A History of Ancient Egypt (I. Shaw, Trans.), 270.
[37] Davies, B. G. (2018). Life Within the Five Walls: A Handbook to Deir el-Medina, 226-231, with references.
[38] Černý, J. (1929). Papyrus Salt 124 (Brit. Mus. 10055). The Journal of Egyptian Archaeology, 15(3/4), 243–258. https://doi.org/10.2307/3854120; Davies, Historical Inscriptions, 344-254; RITA IV, 291-294.
[39] Davies, Life Within the Five Walls, 227—228.
[40] KRI IV, 413:5.
[41] KRI IV, 412:5; RITA IV, 293.
[42] KRI IV, 412:10.
[43] KRI IV, 412:10—413:5.
[44] Davies, Historical Inscriptions, 349—350.
[45] KRI IV, 414:10.
[46] RITANC IV, 356.
[47] RITANC IV, 291.
[48] A “year 8” text (O CG25293) references Paneb (but not his title of Chief Foreman). It might date to Tausret’s sole rule, but could equally be Year 8 of Merneptah. See RITA IV, 291; RITANC IV, 355; Collier, M. (2011). More on late Nineteenth Dynasty ostraca dates, and remarks on Paneb. In M. Collier & S. Snape (Eds.), Ramesside studies in honour of K. A. Kitchen (pp. 111–122).
[49] Bierbrier, M. L. (2000). Paneb Rehabilitated? In R. J. Demarée & A. Egberts (Eds.), Deir el-Medina in the Third Millennium AD: A Tribute to Jac. J. Janssen (pp. 51–54).
[50] Janssen, Jac. J. (1997). An Early Journal of the Necropolis: Papyrus Greg. In Jac. J. Janssen, Village Varia: Ten Studies on the History and Administration of Deir el-Medina (pp. 111–129).
[51] Mieroop, M. van de. (2021). A History of Ancient Egypt (2nd ed.), 230—231.
[52] KRI IV, 382:5; RITA IV, 278; RITANC IV, 338—339.
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