"These fields, Sesostris," said the prince, "are where the brick are
made which are to erect the walls of the treasure-city, one of the
towers of which you behold two miles distant. The city itself will
take the years of a generation of this people to complete, if the
grand design is carried out. On the left of the tower you see the old
palace, for this is not a new city we are building so much as an
extension of the old on a new site, and with greater magnificence. It
is my mother's pride to fill Egypt with monuments of architecture that
will mark her reign as an era."
The scene that I beheld from the height of the chariot I will attempt
to describe, my dear mother. As far as I could see, the earth was dark
with people, some stooping down and with wooden mattocks digging up
the clay; others were piling it into heaps; others were chopping straw
to mix with the clay; others were treading it with their feet to
soften it. Some with moulds were shaping the clay into bricks. Another
stood by with the queen's mark, and stamped each brick therewith, or
the one which was to be the head of a course when laid. There were
also the strongest men employed in raising upon the shoulders of
others a load of these bricks, which they bore to a flat open space to
be dried in the sun; and a procession of many hundreds was constantly
moving, performing this task. Some of the slaves carried yokes, which
had cords at each end, to which bricks were fastened; and many of the
young men conveyed masses of clay upon their heads to the moulders.
Those who carried the brick to the smoothly swept ground where they
were to be dried, delivered them to women, who, many hundreds in
number, placed them side by side on the earth in rows--a lighter task
than that of the men. The borders of this busy plain, where it touched
the fields of stubble wheat, were thronged with women and children
gathering straw for the men who mixed the clay. It was an active and
busy spectacle. Yet throughout the vast arena not a voice was heard
from the thousands of toilers; only the sharp authoritative tones of
their taskmasters broke the stillness, or the creaking of carts with
wooden wheels, as, laden with straw from distant fields, they moved
slowly over the plain.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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