There are a great many people in the world who are interested in Egypt, in its antiquities, and in the unfolding of its pages of ancient history; a number collect specimens of old Egyptian art, such as scarabs, pottery, small statues, &c., and others, when in Egypt, buy them as presents for friends at home.

It is for this numerous class, which is year by year defrauded of large sums of money by the plausible sellers of forged antiquities, that this book has been written, for most of them, sooner or later, find out to their dismay that that which they had thought was a genuine relic of ancient days, and prized accordingly, is nothing more nor less than a clever fraud, and, from a collector’s point of view, worthless. The Egyptologist, museum authority, and expert collector may be safely left to take care of themselves; a perusal of the following pages might even prove interesting to them, although it is exceedingly unlikely that the book contains anything new so far as they are concerned.

The selling of spurious Egyptian antiquities is not confined to Egypt alone. London, New York, Paris, and even Algiers, are also the hunting-ground of the makers of imitations, who often make large sums of money by imposing upon those who do not possess the knowledge requisite to detect the fraud.

It is interesting to analyse the frame of mind of the people who have been cheated. As a rule, they are angry, but they are extremely careful to keep their feelings to themselves. If you inquire, they pooh-pooh the transaction as one of little moment, and pass it over, although, as I shall presently show, many pounds may have been lost. But if the conversation is not changed, and you wait patiently, you will presently find that under the carefully repressed annoyance runs a vein of genuine regret that the nice-spoken, honest-looking and plausible Hassan or Mohammed had cheated them.

The subsequent history of the fraudulent antiquity is often interesting. As a rule, it is packed up and taken home, to be presented in due course to some friend with the cautious remark that “perhaps it is genuine.” Then some day an unfortunate Egyptologist is brought face to face with it, and he has to make his escape as best he may, with a certain loss of reputation. I have heard a hostess remark sarcastically that she did not know what post was held by her victim in the Antiquities Department in Egypt, but it certainly did not require a clever man to see that hers was an important antiquity.

There is no more trying moment in an Egyptologist’s life than when, after a good dinner, while he is feeling at peace with all the world, a charming hostess brings out an antiquity for him to pass judgment upon. I have seen men literally squirm, and many are the subterfuges employed by them to avoid giving an opinion. Woe betide the unhappy expert if a mischievous friend happens to be there who will lead their hostess on to ask questions, and who will assure her, despite mute appeals, that her victim is an expert in the particular branch to which her statue or jar, as it may be, belongs. And when the Egyptologist is cornered, and huffily declares to be a forgery the object upon which he is asked to pass judgment, the lady is, as a rule, angry or hurt; and then it is that the mischievous friend saves the situation by murmuring, “How shocking that these Egyptologists should be so jealous!” The straw is caught, the hostess smiles again, and peace is restored, while the unfortunate man from Egypt, vowing vengeance, makes his escape.

If a buyer of some specimen wishes an expert opinion upon his purchase, he usually lays a deep plan. Perhaps he knows a man connected with the museum, whose opinion is worth having; or, if not, he gets some one to introduce him. Then, one day, in a casual off-hand kind of way, he produces his specimen, and explains that he did not buy it as a “real thing, you know,” but it seemed very clever, and he did not pay much for it. Inquiries as to how much has been paid are met by “regrets that he has forgotten—it was so unimportant.” Most probably it was pounds, but the buyer will seldom or never tell you.

The expert groans, but cannot escape. The clever ones temporise, and tell tales of the marvellous cleverness of the forgers, and explain that it is almost impossible to distinguish some forgeries from genuine antiquities. Then come other stories of how such and such a one was taken in, and names are mentioned which stand high in the list of savants. It is assumed by the expert that his friend will never mention the matter. Then he expresses the opinion that it would be very difficult to be certain in the case of the specimen under consideration, that he himself would not like to say definitely, “and you know, my dear fellow, it has become almost impossible to tell, for these things are made by the descendants of the men who made the originals.” So the friendship is preserved, and the subject drifts away into the safe region of “perhaps and if.”

It does not seem to occur to the general public that so great has been the demand for antiquities on the part of foreign museums, private collectors, and learned societies all over the world that the supply may threaten to give out; that the districts in which the relics lie are carefully watched; and that the Cairo museum is a jealous guardian. So important are the links between the past and the present times that stringent laws have been passed against unauthorised persons taking genuine and important relics out of the country. Moreover, the enormous numbers of antiquities sold yearly would require extensive expeditions to supply the demand, and few of the finds are obtained surreptitiously.

In fact, since the above was written, an even more stringent law has been passed by the Egyptian Government, which took effect on July 1, 1912. Under this law all finds of examples of the Arts, Sciences, Literature, Religions, Customs, Industries, &c., will belong to the State. The definition of the term Antiquities is most comprehensive, and covers every possible find.

All dealers will now require to have a licence, the export of antiquities is quite prohibited unless by special permit from the department responsible, and any attempt to evade this law will be followed by the confiscation of the objects.

Any one discovering antiquities must notify the Antiquities Department at once; should the articles found be of a movable nature the finder will receive half the objects discovered or their value in money.

A licence from the Ministry of Public Works, issued with the consent of the Director of the Antiquities Department, must be obtained before any excavation may be undertaken.

This new law is sure to give a great impetus to the manufacture of forged Egyptian antiquities.

There is indeed a great fascination in possessing jewels, beads, necklaces, vases, and statues belonging to a people who lived thousands of years ago, but it is obvious that there must be a limit to the quantity available. As the supply becomes less, so the prices rise; for the demand does not fall off, and to-day £30 or £40 will be paid for a specimen which, a few years ago, would hardly have brought in as many shillings. The intrinsic value of these antiquities is very little. They are prized for their association with the past and as evidences of the advanced state of culture existing in those far-off days.

The love of money has always been a marked characteristic of the Egyptian, and here the ingenuity of the descendant of the old craftsman asserts itself. There is no doubt that he has, from time to time, been assisted by various Europeans, but he is producing replicas of antiquities, scarabs, figures, models, so cleverly cut and made that it puzzles many of the best experts to say whether they are false or real. Some of these imitations are sold for very high prices. If the discovery of a fraud is made in time, part of the money will sometimes be refunded.

The Egyptian forger would not consider that he had done anything particularly dishonest in deceiving a man in that kind of way. His only regret would be that the fraud had been discovered, and he would muse upon the unfairness of Fate, for here he had been with a fortune within his grasp, only to lose it.

Such cases are seldom brought before the courts, for there seems to be a tacit understanding between the buyer and seller whereby each accepts his own risk.

Think for a moment what such a transaction means to the Egyptian. Supposing he got £3000 for certain objects and made £2500 clear profit: that would mean at least twenty feddans of land, probably more. These should bring him, if he lets them out for hire, over £200 a year; or, if he farmed them himself, £600 or £700 a year. It is a perfect craze with the Egyptians to get rich, and perhaps our forger has been earning a precarious living for years, receiving in pay the equivalent of a shilling or two a day. He has always kept in mind the possibility of making a coup such as I have described. He has worked hard and cultivated a plausible manner and learned English with this single object in view. If he is successful, and the fraud is not discovered until too late, he will occupy a high position in his village and will live happily, but always with the hope of making a further haul.

To such a pitch has the art of manufacturing imitations been carried that I propose to give a few of the more common examples, and here I may say that the morality of dealing in antiquities resembles, to a great extent, that involved in the buying and selling of horses. If you go to a respectable and responsible dealer, you pay more, but you are sure either to get a genuine article or to have your money returned if things go wrong. But if you go to a horse coper, you buy at your own risk.