Tutankhamun’s golden mask comes to London!
It was 1972 at the British Museum and as a child, I was there
Greetings to all you Gold and Silver Level Templar Knights. Today, I’m remembering a magical childhood trip back in 1972 to the British Museum when the treasures of the boy-pharaoh Tutankhamun came to Britain. Like many people of my age - it awoke a lifelong love affair with ancient history!
1972 was the fiftieth anniversary of the discovery of Tutankhamun’s tomb by the British archaeologist Howard Carter. That year, the British Museum hosted the biggest exhibition ever of Tutankhamun’s treasures outside of Egypt. This included the iconic funerary mask.
BOAC – the forerunner of British Airways – and the Royal Air Force flew the priceless relics out of Egypt and into London. The M4 motorway was closed to all traffic as the exhibits made their way from the airport to the museum. They arrived under armed guard at 1am. The unpacking of the golden mask was done in front of invited media – almost as thrilling for them as the original discovery of the tomb.
There was no doubt at the time that this was the greatest exhibition the British Museum had ever hosted and arguably – still is. The public certainly thought so as they queued in huge numbers to buy tickets. An average of 32,000 people a week. I was in the queue aged nine and believe me – it stretched all the way down Great Russell Street. But as an enthusiastic young history fan – I didn’t care.
We had to get in to see that mask and the other incredible treasures of the boy pharaoh. Entering the crowded galleries, we were confronted by the wooden statue of the king guarding his own tomb. Covered in gold leaf and holding a ceremonial mace and a staff.
Next a chair of ebony inlaid with ivory that was in incredible condition for an item of furniture that was 3,000 years old. Not a gilded throne but simple and stylish. Something you could even imagine having in your own home.
Another very domestic but beautiful piece of furniture was a cabinet. A gold inscription along the top indicated that Tutankhamun had rejected the heretical religious views of his father the pharaoh Akhenaten and returned to the traditional religion of Egypt.
A gilded ceremonial fan had long lost its ostrich feathers. It proclaimed the hunting prowess of the pharaoh – a recurring theme in the treasures. Tutankhamun seen unleashing arrows at animals from his horse-drawn chariot.
As a young chess player, I was very taken by the inlaid board game. Thirty squares with three rows of ten. Some squares had symbols on them. The game was called Senet and was played by throwing polished knucklebones or little sticks. The aim was to pass into the afterlife by getting all your pieces off the board.
One of the most disquieting exhibits was a statue of Tutankhamun that very clearly had feminised breasts. There are many theories as to what was going on there and it attracted attention at the time. The statue was standing on top of an amazingly expressive leopard.
One of the most touching objects was a plain wooden sculpture representing the pharaoh in death after mummification. His face expressionless and the neck a little lined. At either side a human headed bird and a falcon.
What was so moving at the exhibition was to see in real-life those treasures we had only witnessed before in the black-and-white images taken by Carter back in 1922. Now Tutankhamun was in colour. And his possessions were very real. His bed, for example, could have supported the young ruler days before. Its condition was exceptional and the paintwork still very vivid.
The climax of the exhibition was a darkened room at the centre of which glowed the golden mask. The headdress flaring out. The vulture and cobra above his forehead. Those soulful eyes staring out as they had done for three thousand years.
It’s with a little sadness that I look back at the exhibition as I went with my parents who nurtured my interest in history. My mother loved the history of ancient Egypt and its whole visual aesthetic. Both have passed on in recent years. But I’ll always remember that magical day when as a family, we were immersed in the story of a tragic boy king whose life was cut short.