People sometimes think that elders’ minds ramble. Not always so! Age brings the ability to see the interconnections of a lifetime of experiences. One thought, memory or story leads to another, and you finally learn that life isn’t straight-line; it is circular. Memories are like fish on a stringer. When you pull one up others follow.
Conversations with archeologist Michele Greenan rekindled an interest archeology. My musings led me from my prehistoric axe head to learning more about the native Americans who built mounds to thinking about Egypt and, finally, to Chicago. While I was reading about the mounds, I was also reading a biography of Amina Carnarvon, the illegitimate daughter of the fabulously wealthy Alfred de Rothschild. Vicki recommended it because I watch Downton Abbey.
Because her parentage might make it difficult for Amina to find a husband from the upper echelon of society, Rothschild quietly made it known that he would provide a substantial dowry for her. The 29-year-old 5th Earl of Carnarvon had inherited Highclere Castle, the locale of the television series, and six other estates. A high liver, he travelled extensively all over the world on his yacht, bought valuable curios and was heavily in debt. He and the 19-year-old Amina met at some social event such as a ball at Buckingham Palace and fell in love. Rothschild paid off his debts and gave Amina a yearly income of 12,000 pounds — a fortune in those days.
I’ll bet you think I’m rambling on like an old woman, don’t you? What actually interested me was the Earl’s story. Egyptomania was the rage of the day. During his extensive travels, Carnarvon became obsessed with Egyptian archeology. At that time, Egypt was a British protectorate, and the government sold concessions to private individuals to excavate various sites. Also, some very rich people wintered in Egypt the way people here winter in Florida.
The authorities sold Carnarvon a dig that consisted of a trash heap that they knew was a dud. He and Amina spent their nights socializing in a ritzy hotel. He wore a tweed suit to the digs, and Amina dressed for a garden party and wore patent leather heels. All that was found was a case with a mummified cat. Carnarvon hired Howard Carter and moved to a site in the Nile delta. The Carnarvons and their entourage that included her maid, his valet, his physician and Carter braved the extreme heat and cobras, lived in tents and had provisions sent from the London gourmet store Fortnum and Mason.
Even though he was advised that it wasn’t any good, Carnarvon bought another concession in the Valley of the Kings. He had sold off estates, furniture and land to pay for hundreds of laborers, mules and equipment. Amina’s income took care of Highclere. After fourteen years and the expenditure of ten million pounds in today’s money, Carnarvon intended to quit, but decided to try one last time The result was the most famous story in the annals of archeology.
From 1332 BC – 1323 BC, the boy Pharaoh Tutankhamun ruled Egypt. After his death, as was the custom, his remains were mummified and put in a tomb chockablock with various objects. Carter found it. With Carnarvon standing behind him, Carter made and looked through a small opening. “What do you see?” asked Carnarvon. “Wonderful things!” Alas, Carnarvon died as the result of an infection caused by a mosquito bite before the second room containing Tut’s mummy was opened.
Wonderful things, indeed! Thinking about this story caused me to travel internally back around the circle to memories of when Bill, Vicki and I visited the exhibition of Tut’s treasures in Chicago. Gold, gold and more gold! Lapis lazuli and obsidian! Exquisite objects carved from ivory and rare woods and translucent alabaster vases!
How satisfying it is when seemingly disparate happenings come together and enhance my existence. I am so rich! wclarke@comcast.net